#in this case he instead hopped right into head through a digital deal so he might have passed through via the internet or something IDK

[bill-ciphers-nightmare-blog]

So are you puppeting calypso from the Theraprism? Or did you escape through her?

BE THANKFUL SCALES IS STILL USEFUL.

[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #29 - The One Where Everyone Gets Super Shiny

Our issue opens up with Swerve laying down the Story So Far in the Exposition Dimension.

Fantastic, you funky little man.

If Swerve looks like he’s been tossed through the car wash a few dozen times, it’s because this is where our new colorist comes in! Everyone, please say hello to Joana Lafuente- known for her love of gradients and attention to light sources, this actually isn’t the first time we’ve run into her. Lafuente worked on colors for several issues of The Transformers (2009), Last Stand of the Wreckers #3, and a few issues of MTMTE Season 1. However, she was matching the styles of her co-colorists on a majority of these, so we haven’t seen her style properly until now.

Getting into the story proper, Cyclonus is busying himself with staring out the window at a PNG of space, as he is wont to do, when he hears the tell-tale sound of tires squealing down the hall towards his room. Oh, goodness, whoever could that be?

Nearly forgot about him, didn’t you? Yeah, it’s a little difficult to follow up on things like a character’s recovery from a horrific disease when you’ve got comic event contract obligations to deal with.

After getting tackled by Tailgate, who reminds us all about the time he stuck his dirty little fingers into a dude’s brain meat, Cyclonus takes the little nerd on a walk through the ship.

You’re not going to convince me to reread “Dark Cybertron”. I don’t care how much of a marshmallow you are, it’s not happening.

They’re passed by Megatron and a bunch of crew members carrying that coffin we saw at the end of last issue down the corridor, Tailgate has a moment, and we get a taste of Cyclonus’ distaste for the Autobots as a whole. Tailgate is mildly offended by this, as he gropes his chest in distain, showing off his shiny new Autobot badge- a gift for not dying a terrible, gruesome death.

Good job, Tailgate. Proud of you.

They’re also passed by an absolutely blitzed Jackpot and Mainframe, the former singing Tailgate’s Tyrest-stopping praises as the latter carts him over to the Medibay to deal with the almost alcohol poisoning he’s got going on. Cyclonus remarks that Tailgate was missed, though Tailgate can’t help but wonder if that’s really true.

Y’all like slowburn romance, right? Because these two dumbasses have been roommates for two years, and we’ve just gotten to the point where physical contact can happen without one of them needing to be dying.

Anyway, it’s been a good day for Tailgate so far. Let’s hope it stays that way for the little dude.

...And that’s a series wrap on Tailgate! Let’s give him a hand, folks!

Hopping back in time to Megatron’s trial, things get underway, as Optimus Prime takes a nap in the judge’s bench as Gripper- whose name you don’t need to remember, as he’s not actually important- tells everyone about how brutal the Decepticon Justice Division is, even to Autobots. Which isn’t really supposed to be their deal, given their, y’know, name, but I suppose nobody’s perfect.

Up in the stands, in an… opera box, I guess? Rodimus is watching the proceedings, when Atomizer walks in. Which I guess you can just do in a Cybertronian court case. Sure.

Atomizer, in case you forgot, is the dude who has a bow and arrow, and used to be an interior designer.

Say, didn’t Whirl has a bow and arrow in the last issue when he attacked Megatron? Mighty curious, that.

Rodimus and Atomizer briefly reflect on the DJD, recalling the horror that was Vos- not that Vos, the other one. Rodimus would really just rather this all be over with so the Lost Light can get back to finding the Knights of Cybertron, and it’s at this point that Atomizer breaks out a thing he really ought not have- the count for the vote on whether or not Rodimus should stay on as captain. Rodimus doesn’t want to look at it, because it was supposed to be anonymous for a reason, and tells Atomizer to destroy the list entirely.

Hm, that’s not a terribly determined face there, Rodimus.

Back in the present, specifically in Swerve’s, Groove is threatening to break Streetwise’s arm, as we get the downlow on just what exactly our Legislator buddy’s deal is. Turn’s out, Swerve got one of the things reprogrammed, so that he follows not the Autobot Code, but something else entirely.

Hey, Swerve?

I don’t expect you to know this, because I don’t think you were present when they revealed this information to the readers, but… your new bouncer is made of people. He’s a dude made of other dudes, namely the Circle of Light. There’s a chance that you reprogrammed a sentient being, my good bitch.

Anyway, Swerve’s in a fucking mood because his shoulder hurts, someone’s stealing his shit, and Megatron has joined the narrative. Over at a nearby table, Skids, Nautica, and Riptide take a gander at the tabloids. Trailcutter, who is positively smashed, to the point where he’s just leaking booze out of his face like it’s his job, isn’t terribly interested in that, however.

What an astute observation, Riptide. And people say you’re stupid!

Trailcutter wants to drink some more, because it’s very likely he’s got a problem, but the mention of “Megatron’s super fuel” makes him feel like it’s time to stop hounding Swerve and start performing crimes.

Back during the trial, we get to Starscream’s testimony. He’s wearing his crown. He’s acting like a self-righteous asshole, as he defends Megatron.

Well, “defend” in the technical, legal sense, I suppose.

But really it’s more about him insulting Megatron’s intelligence, strength, and courage, in front of a LOT of people, while also trying to make himself look better in the war crime department. Megatron doesn’t appreciate this very much, if his murder-face is anything to go by.

Megatron lets Ultra Magnus (his defender, if you’ll recall) know that he wants a private word, and court goes into a brief recess.

Back in the present, Nightbeat’s busy looking at a pin-up of Rung’s alt-mode, when someone knocks on his door. That someone is Chromedome, who’s trying to solve the mystery of The Missing Declaration of Love. Not that he says that specifically out loud.

You two were married, why- okay. No point in yelling at this digital copy of a comic book.

Anyway.

So, the whole screaming thing only happened the one time, and everything was back to normal on subsequent plays of Rewind’s message. Nightbeat seems to be leaning towards the depressive isolating getting to Chromedome, which Chromedome responds to by telling him to get the fuck out. Alas, someone’s blocking the door!

YO WHAT THE FUCK-

Back with Trailcutter’s subplot, our drunken friend is in the middle of breaking into the Medibay. Our trio of cool-colored pals watch him from back at the bar, by way of a laptop that looks like it was built the same year I was born.

As Trailcutter attempts to commit a crime, Megatron, Ultra Magnus, and Ratchet pass by, trying to figure out how to handle the whole coffin situation. Trailcutter’s about to punch the locks off a door, and Nautica decides that this is where she’s going to draw the line today, leaving the gaggle of fools to their shenanigans. Then Tailgate glomps Skids, throwing the computer to the ground and breaking it, as Trailcutter finds the door to the Medibay magically open.

If you don’t know what glomping is, there’s a 60% chance that you’re not old enough to vote in the US.

Trailcutter sneaks into the Medibay, we get a reminder that Ambulon is super dead, and Trailcutter commits theft from a food bank. What a guy.

This is the point where security shows up, armed with a great deal of guns, one of which is Megatron himself. Trailcutter, instead of feeling super powerful, actually feels positively awful after consuming Megatron’s rations of “super fuel”. Because he, as an Autobot, doesn’t want to be within 50 yards of Megatron, Trailcutter breaks out the forcefields the moment the guy approaches him. And oh, what a doozy this one is.

Trailcutter’s gotten himself a fancy new trick- this forcefield he’s broken out lasts for a solid half-hour, and he can’t turn it off. I’m sure that won’t bite him in the ass at any point in the near future, no-siree!

Back in the past, Rattrap is commending Starscream on playing the field and getting the public slightly more on his side, but Starscream’s too busy patting himself on the back to really pay attention. He knew damn well that Megatron wouldn’t like what he had to say on the stand, and now things are finally looking up for ol’ Screamer.

Over with Optimus Prime, Slamdance is showing off how the general public is really into this whole “folks being held accountable for their actions” thing.

In the present, Chromedome and Nightbeat seem to have remembered they have alt-modes and are driving down the hall back to Nightbeat’s room- wonder what the speed limit for the Lost Light is?- and discuss just what the hell happened. The current theory is that the Rewind they saw was a Data Ghost- a collection of information so dense, it had a not-quite-physical presence that wasn’t 100% removed when he died.

Which is a little fucked up, but let’s see where this goes.

Nightbeat undoes the 40,000 locks on his door while Chromedome bleeds guilt all over the shag carpet over the fact that he hasn’t been looking for Dominus Ambus like he said he would.

C’mon James, gimme that Chromedominus endgame.

Nightbeat finally opens the door to find a small problem.

Hm. That’s… not normal.

Over in the Medibay, Trailcutter’s bubble has burst, allowing Megatron to slap him in the back of the head. This head-slapping induces his FIM chip permanently, making it so that he can never get drunk again.

Weird party trick, Megatron. Kinda shitty, really.

Megatron then gives Trailcutter the job of director of security, because he needs direction in his life. Trailcutter just sort of takes what he’s given, because I suppose you can’t really argue with a guy who can literally slap you sober, and also threatens to destroy you if you fuck up even once. Nice, Megs. Nice.

MEGATRON THAT’S BEEN SITTING LIKE THAT FOR OVER HALF AN HOUR YOU FUCKING WET NOODLE

So, since there’s mystery juice all over the floor and no one’s died, Megatron assumes that the coffin ought to be fine to crack open.

Please note that Megatron is not a medical professional, and his views are now peer reviewed by medical professionals. Megatron is in no way endorsed by the WHO.

Anyway, Rodimus is in there.

Pretty fucked up.

Back in the past, recess is over, and Ultra Magnus comes bearing bad news- Megatron wants to change his plea to “innocent.” This gets about the reaction one would expect from just about anyone.

Well, except Rodimus, who’s too busy reading that list that he wanted destroyed. He’s very sad about it.

I know, what a bummer!

[hello-im-not-a-possum]

Hell's Studio fic idea: A pipe bursts and Sammy becomes a toon Imp like Snowflake and Bendy, and Joey doesn't know how to reverse it ASAP, so Sammy is stuck as a toon Imp and Sammy decides to hangout with Snowflake until Joey can reverse the ink's magic (Bonus points if: Sammy gets a uncontrollable stutter as a toon Imp, Susie cooing her small boyfriend, and Sammy drawing with snowflake)

I am So sorry that this took so freaking long, but here you go!

Wally slapped his forehead in exasperation as he heard the pipe bursting from the music department's break room. Then proceeded to go in there, with Snowflake following close behind just in case he needed someone small to check in any holes in the wall that the pipe made in the process.

The sight was familiar, but unwelcome to the pair; a pile of thick ink sliding down onto the floor through the broken pipe peeking through the ceiling. Snowflake was only thankful that it had spilled to the floor instead of the pool table.

“I’m startin' ta think dat eitheah we should completely tear down da music department to put in a betteah pipe system, or just stop fixin' the dang things so dat they at least stop surprisin' us."

The Janitor grumbled as he started mopping up the mess.

"A-at least nobody got caught in it this time."

As soon as Snowflake said that, something under the pile began to move.

“Mmmmh?"

"Yikes, spoke too soon, kiddo."

Wally stated calmly as he started to scrape the excess ink off of what looked exactly like Bendy, except the imp's tie lacked the fun patterns Bendy often wore, and more importantly, he was missing his mouth. So the obvious conclusion the pair made was: The ink ruined his tie by dying it black and also stole his mouth.

"M-mr. Bendy?! are you okay?!"

The formerly buried imp looked at the other one with a perplexed expression before mouthing something, realized that he wasn't saying anything, patting his face where his mouth should've been, and looking like he was about to panic.

"MMMMmmPPHH?! MMMH!! MMPHH!!!"

"Looks like the ink erased your pie hole, boss."

The imp rolled his eyes at stared at Wally in a very sarcastic manner before leaving the room, most likely to visit Joey about this issue.

"...Do you think he's not going to want to do that drawing lesson later?"

"What, Bendy? not want ta draw with ya overah somethin' like this? Nah. It's nothin' fun to wake up to, but I don't think it'll eat at him like it will if it happened ta Sammy."

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

"MmMMmMMM?!?! MMPHH!! MMMPPHHH!?"

Sammy hopped up and down while wildly gesturing to the blank white space on his face where his mouth was supposed to be while Joey flipped through heavily ink-stained spell books. Meanwhile, the real Bendy was still gawking at his doppelganger, still not quite sure whether he should feel flattered or offended that the ink pulled this on Sammy. But also not saying anything because he couldn't find any jokes to lighten the mood with.

It would be one thing if the ink also gave Sammy Bendy's trademark smile (that could make other expressions too). If it did that, Bendy would be making so many mirror and twin related jokes. But it didn't.

"It's going to be fine." Joey repeated almost more to himself than to the hopping mad imp. "Just because an ink flood took out some of my reversal spells, doesn't mean that you're going to be stuck like this forever. Best case scenario, it'll take a few hours for me to find the right one, worst case scenario I'm going to need to order a new book, and that might take a while."

"MMm MmhP?"

"I don't know how long! Some of these are the rarest on the market! Goodness knows how long it'll take to replace if it's ruined and has the correct cure in it..."

The music director let out a heavily muffled, frustrated sigh.

"Yes, I'm annoyed too." Joey sighed as well. "But at least it's not going to be forever."

'Easy for you to say.' Sammy thought to himself as trying and failing to talk was starting to hurt his jaw. 'You're not the one dealing with this! how am I supposed to do my job when I can't speak to anyone?!'

He must've been gesturing as he thought this as Joey snapped his fingers in realization and handed Sammy a notebook and a pencil.

"I know it won't help with the more vocal aspects of your job, but it's better than not having any way to communicate. And much easier than trying to learn sign language in less than a day and with only four digits on each hand."

He tried to write down 'Thanks Joey' but his hands refused to obey him. Confusingly, he instead drew a thumbs up.

"Why thank you! Glad to see that you're taking this better than expected Sammy. I'd better get to work on looking for that spell..."

As Joey left the room, Sammy frowned at the notebook, trying to figure out why he did that. Bendy also peeked at the drawing and felt something click.

"So..." the copied imp awkwardly tugged at his tie as he avoided making eye contact with Sammy. "Just outta curiosity sake, does Snowflake know about this? At least, the fact that it's well, you instead of me?"

Sammy gave Bendy a funny look but nodded anyway.

"Okay, follow up question: ...Is now a bad time to tell you that before you burst in here trying to tell us to fix this that Joey and I were arguing over whether I should go to this meeting with GENT or to give drawing lessons to Snowflake like I promised to, and literally right before you came in I said: 'Well dang it Joey if I could be in two places at once, I would!'?"

Sammy frowned as he saw the guilty yet pleading look in Bendy's eyes, calmly took the newspaper off of Joey's desk, rolled it up and smacked Bendy right upside the head.

"Hey! What gives?!" He sputtered as he rubbed the back of his head.

The Mute music director drew a series of pictures: Bendy putting something in the ink, the ink rising up and flashing him the 'ok' hand sign, Bendy giving it a thumbs up in return and leaving on his merry way, a shift in perspective revealing Sammy as a human having seen the interaction but shrugging it off, Sammy (still human) playing pool with Jack, Grant, and Johnny, the four of them having a good time, the ceiling above them creaking and rumbling ominously, making the four opt to leave, Sammy coming back into the pool room slightly later and keeping an eye on the ceiling, Sammy taking what he came back into the room for, the ceiling above him suddenly bursting and covering him with ink, and the last picture; a bunch of puzzle pieces being fit together, with the picture on the pieces being a lit light bulb.

After showing Bendy his work, he crossed his arms and tapped his foot on the ground.

"What?! You can't seriously blame me for- Okay, yes. I did kinda make a request... but I figured I'D be the one getting drenched! Not you!"

Sammy raised a single eyebrow as Bendy let out a frustrated sigh.

"Look, if I knew that this was what would happen, I wouldn't have done it! But now that it's happened ...would ya help me out with this?"

Sammy's next drawing was his current form with an intentionally bad scribble of Bendy's mouth on the space where he was supposed to have a mouth to indicate it was (poorly) drawn on, and he was trying and failing to do Bendy's job for him as he couldn't speak.

"Of course I'm not going to shirk my responsibilities to make you pretending to be me look like an idiot in front of those big wigs at GENT. I mean, goodness, if this thing flops, who knows what'll happen."

The Musician then showed Bendy a drawing that was so horrible and cold that he wouldn't even dare grace it with a description.

"WHAT KINDA DEMON DO YOU THINK I AM, LAWRENCE?!" Bendy quieted down and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I get it, Damned if I do the thing, damned if I don't do the other thing. I can't let down Snowflake, but if I'm not at that meeting, the studio's relationship with GENT could get bruised! This is why I tried this stunt in the first place!"

He sighed as Sammy just continued to tap his foot in annoyance. "Tell you what, help me and I'll give you anything you ask for! A raise, me not pranking you for a month, more paid vacation days, magic-repelling acetone, name it and it's yours!*"

*Within reason. I'm a demon not a miracle worker!

Sammy showed Bendy an intentionally shaky 'Ok' sign, the closest thing he could think of to a picture version of a hesitant and unwilling 'fine, I'll do it...'

"Oh Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" Bendy practically crushed his doppelganger in a spine-breaking hug. "I really owe you this one Sammy!"

'I hope you realize how goddamned lucky you are that I like that kid.' Sammy thought to himself as he patted his double on the back. 'Otherwise I'd hang you out to dry for doing this...'

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

The music director had no interest in deceiving Snowflake; even if he wanted to follow Bendy's plan to the spirit of his deal, he knew too well that the studio and it's ink would always drag any secret up to the surface. So it would just be easier to come clean at the start before lies had the chance to spiral into something that could completely break the poor kid.

"Hi Mr. Bendy! Are you ready for our lesson?"

Sammy nodded, but gestured for his pupil to wait a second before he flipped through the pages of his sketchbook and showed him a series of pictures: some showing the origin of his new condition, and the others showing his deal with Bendy.

"Oh." The child imp seemed sad, and slightly disappointed, but also not surprised. "So Bendy couldn't make it today either..."

The older imp sympathetically patted Snowflake on the back and tried his best to draw out an explanation, but it's kind of hard to put 'He really did want to make it, in fact, he wanted to so much that he was willing to split himself in half for it! But as you can see, it kinda backfired...' into picture format, luckily he got the message across fairly well.

"I-it's okay, I understand. Thanks for filling in for him Mr. Lawrence!"

Snowflake pulled out his own notebook and pencils.

"Do you think you can show me how to do hands that well?"

Sammy eagerly nodded and flipped his book to a blank page.

[daybreak-academy-fanfic]

[Kingdom Hearts] Pinkie Swear

Summary: Written for @khuxweek, in which a day before the War, Brain takes Sabrina (OC) someplace special.

Rating: K

Word Count: 1,931 words

If you liked this story, please reblog!

☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆

There are very few times when I can look at a fellow Keyblade wielder and think 'Yes, this one has a heart so strong, they could move mountains one day.' I felt that way with each of my fellow Union leaders when I met them. Even Ventus who, even then, felt like an anomaly but still had promise of something greater. It was one of these few people I was actually close with before the Keyblade War. Her name was Sabrina- which apparently meant princess. Go figure.

. . .

The air was filled with electricity in the days leading up to the Keyblade War. After Ava gave her speech (one that no one had really expected, let alone how serious she was during it), the youngest of the Dandelions in both age and recruitment started to get antsy. Except for her. Brain wasn't able to see her during training much because Ava frequently helped the newer recruits than those who had been there for awhile. He wasn't one of the first Dandelions- but he could remember when he could recognize a face or two if they crossed paths during regular missions. Now there were so many Dandelions that he couldn't pick them out on a normal day without some help.

When Ava disappeared, the Dandelions were beside themselves. Should they still train? Should they go to the promised place to depart now too? Some still came to Fountain Square to train with each other. Others continued with their missions as already set by their Union leader, becoming invisible in crowds. If the line between who was and wasn't a Dandelion hadn't been blurred before, it was nonexistent then. Brain was one of the Dandelions that skipped out on coming to train in Fountain Square. Instead, he'd pester Sabrina into going somewhere else where they trained together. To say it caused a small conflict in the constantly disagreeable girl was a bit of an understatement.

“What if Master Ava comes back?” she once asked him as she attempted to side swipe him with her Keyblade. He dodged it without a problem. His hat was a bit askew, but she gave him time to adjust it. “She meets with the Dandelions like normal and finds that all of them ditched her.”

“Not going to happen.” Brain assured her with a shake of his head. He took his Keyblade with both hands before rushing at her. Sabrina leaped out of the way, then parried his attempt to get her from behind. “Master Ava would tell us to resume Dandelion training if she comes back.”

Sabrina raised an eyebrow. “If?”

Brain gave a soft chuckle. Of course Sabrina would be able to read between the lines. She was good at that. Master Invi couldn't have asked for a smarter member of her Union. Brain took firm hold of his Keyblade again to attempt a front attack. Sabrina also saw that coming- their Keyblades letting out a loud clang when they connected. Brain didn't let up. Instead he pressed their Keyblades close enough to each other that he could have tilted his head to touch her forehead.

“You're smart.” he told her. “Do you really think we'll see Master Ava again before the war?”

There was a small, subtle twitch in the corner of the girl's mouth that illustrated she did not. Seeing it, Brain finally let up. He even put away his Keyblade- an act that surprised Sabrina a good degree.

“I think we've had enough training for today,” he then told her, “How about we take a break and go for a walk. It's a nice day today.”

Sabrina recoiled. Brain was trying to make it less obvious that his mind was on something else. That constant fidgeting of his fedora was a dead giveaway. The girl had known the other boy for, what? A good six months? She could tell when he was hiding something from her, as little as it happened so far. Sabrina parted her lips a little to say something, but shook her head.

“Fine.” she agreed with a flick of her wrist. “It better not be someplace dumb like Fountain Square or Agrabah. I've had enough sand in my shoes to last a lifetime, thank you.”

Brain couldn't help it, but he gave her a wide smile.

. . .

As far as I knew, I was an only child. I always saw the younger wielders as equal peers than subconsciously channeling some kind of lost 'big brother' instinct. That was the funny thing about Sabrina- she was the first wielder to actually make me want to protect them more than just an equal partner. I'd tease her about wielders that seemed flustered by her growing beauty. We'd eat lunches together and promise to meet up after missions to relax. More than once we'd sit on a bench, watching the sunset, and that girl would lay on me to safely drift off to sleep. We had keys to each other's houses too. It wasn't until far later (and far too late) that I realized we weren't friends; we were family.

. . .

“You're going to hurt yourself.”

“Haven't yet. So if you'd like, let me just break my neck in peace.” There was a pause, then the prudent addition of, “You're not in charge of me.”

Brain let out another laugh. He tried to hide how much he was keeping an eye on her by adjusting his fedora every so often. Walking along the high stone fence was an act of defiance and proof of how balanced Sabrina thought herself to be. Did that stop Brain from being ready in case she tripped? Of course not. Why would it?

“Where are we going anyway?” Sabrina questioned as she looked at her own steps than Brain himself.

“How do you know we're not going to fight some Heartless?” Brain asked right back.

“Because you're usually more protective if we were. Fussing around with elixirs and potions and stuff. Especially if you think that it's going to be a big one.”

Brain was quick to hold the rim of his fedora a bit lower over his face. “I'm not that bad.”

“Sure, sure.” the girl shrugged off. And so she remained on the fence as they continued to walk along. It was quite awhile before they reached the end of it- while also being quite close to where Brain wanted to take them.

“I dare you to flip off.” Brain smirked as Sabrina stood with her toes to the end of the fence. For a moment, you could see the child consider doing just that.

“Nah.” Sabrina said with a shake of her head. Instead, she hopped down- making sure that she bent her knees to lessen the impact. Even if it wasn’t the flair Brain had teased her on, it was still a bit presumptuous in its own way.

“Come on,” he laughed, “We’re almost there.”

Sabrina gave a nod as she followed him. It was a silent walk for the rest of the way, not that either of them really minded. They finally reached their destination with ease; a field that overlooked most of Daybreak Town. This particular area having a cherry blossom tree growing near the ledge with its roots exposed on the cliffside. Sabrina was quick to lean against the tree before sliding down to sit. Brain took a spot next to her, but remained standing. A warm breeze kissed their skin as they relaxed in the tree’s shade. It was beautiful. Memorable, even. But it was here that Brain had to tell Sabrina something important.

“The war is going to happen soon.”

Sabrina blinked, then looked up at Brain with a look of displeasure. “How do you know?” she questioned.

“Master Ava told me.” he replied without looking at her.

“Liar.”

Brain looked down and smiled at her “It’s true! Swear on my life, Wabi-Sabi.”

He had expected her little grunt of doubt.

“Even if I believed you, what does that have to do with anything?” the child then spat as she crossed her arms.

“I want us to make a promise.” he then said, taking a seat next to her. “A blood pact, if you will.”

Sabrina gave him something that crossed a stink eye and a glare. “What are you talking about?” she questioned, even scrunching her nose up.

“Since I know the Keyblade War is coming, and you know the Keyblade War is coming, then let's promise to meet up after.” he offered. He nudged her a bit to say, “We'll meet up where we usually do. Assuming Daybreak Town made it through the end. Deal?”

“And where are we meeting if Daybreak Town doesn't survive, smarty pants?”

“Our Chirithy will figure it out.” Brain playfully shrugged. “They'll still be with us, and they can go pretty far without us too, so it shouldn't be a problem.”

The girl gave him a small raise of her eyebrow before considering his offer. As she thought it over though, the more her face started to fall into one of conflict.

“Are you really sure that it’s going to happen?”

“I would never lie about this, Sabrina. You know I wouldn’t.”

Sabrina looked up at Brain. His sincere, almost scared, face caused a lump to form in her throat. He wasn’t teasing this time. He meant every word that he was saying. Making up her mind, Sabrina sat a bit straighter before holding up her pinkie finger.

“Pinkie swear.” she told him- her voice filled with authority.

For a moment, Brain just stared at her. Then a smile started to form on his lips. He brought up his own pinkie to link with hers, and after the two gave each other an affirming nod, Sabrina launched herself at Brain to give him a tight hug. The gesture had been completely unexpected, but he didn’t oppose it. Instead, he held her tight as neither wanted to let go.

. . .

I never really read the Book of Prophecies that Master Ava gave me before Darkness started to meddle with our new world. Or rather, show itself while we tried to figure out why we were in a digital Daybreak Town than the real one. It took me a greater part of a day to read through it. At least, it took me a day to go through the pages that detailed various enemies from the past, future, and now present. Everything else in the Book? Well, I wouldn't call it useless. At the same time, I wouldn't call it helpful either. The Master of Masters had written the Book in ways that spoke of ambiguity and a less than set in stone mentality. One part of the Book could have changed, and the rest could be rendered moot.

She wasn't in there. Strelitzia was never brought up too. What will become of my fellow Union leaders -my friends- is just as uncertain. There are small sections where I believe they are mentioned, but the wording of the Book… It's not obvious. It would take another generation to decipher just who or what it is referencing to begin with. If that.

I just want to know where she is. I need to know if she, like Streltizia, met a poor fate before the war. We're just kids. We all were. I just… I just want her to be safe. She's my little sister. She's the only family I've known. At the same time, I fear giving in to the same heartbroken rage that Lauriam is struggling against. Just… let her be safe. That's all I ask… Please.

[asgardianthot]

No words needed

Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes

A/N: The new images might have been too much to handle, but I’m glad to know we’re all hopping on the same headcanons after the trailer. Here’s one because I can’t stop making up sappy scenarios with those two idiots living in a cottage together.

Words: 1751

Life there wasn’t too bad. It was the idea of stepping out into the real world that terrified them to the core. And they didn’t explicitly mention it, but because they didn’t have to. Words weren’t necessary. Bucky could see it in Sam’s sweaty face, as he practiced and failed and beat himself up about not getting the proper hang of the shield. He could hear it in Sam’s grunts when he threw it, employing the last bit of his strength, and still missed.

Because Sam didn’t think he was good enough for the shield, and soon, they both would have to face the real world. They would get a call any minute now. A mission. An outing. And the lovely little cottage in which they spent their days, preparing to reintegrate the Forces, would become nothing but a memory of a quieter time.

It was visible in Bucky’s face as he held a big envelope with the CIA stamp on the inner seal.

In fact, Sam walked in on Bucky staring down at the papers he had distributed in both hands, standing in the middle of the living room, frozen. At first, Sam was highly tempted to joke about the CIA’s environmental practices for using printed paper instead of digital archives, but after noticing the silent panic growing in Barnes’ features, Sam approached him and took the documents away.

They were update reports. Pieces of information of what the –currently very dysfunctional and chaotic– institution had on specific targets. Some contained names, locations, dates and what at first sight resembled future deals, meaning the CIA had been tracking large scale criminals without actually engaging in any form of attack, and some documents were simply pictures of said targets, spotted out in the streets. That could only mean one thing: get ready. The pair had been assigned these cases, and they would have to engage very soon. Sam considered offering Bucky tranquilizing words, or perhaps giving him a full lecture on how he could do this.

But as soon as he read more carefully, he understood what paralyzed Bucky like that. Arms dealer, former KGB associate. Arms dealer, former STRIKE, former HYDRA agent. MO, former HYDRA scientist.

He looked up from the envelope, only to find a wide-eyed Bucky, staring off into nothingness and clenching his jaw like there was a cyanide tooth he could pop, so he moved to drop the papers on the coffee table. When he walked back to the frozen figure, he pressed his chest against Bucky’s back and wrapped him up with both arms. Within the embrace, he could feel Bucky’s heart rate going off and his breaths heaving a little, so he simply hugged him tighter. He ran one thumb up and down the man’s chest, in hopes to make him feel cherished and supported, but it didn’t seem to help just yet.

He began breathing more and more hectically, until he was effectively hyperventilating, and so Sam, never loosening the tight grip on the man’s torso, dragged both bodies to the sofa. He guided Bucky carefully as they both walked backwards, and as soon as he managed to sit both figures down, Barnes appeared to snap back into reality. He looked around the room like he had lost his whereabouts, and that, of course, freaked him out more than anything. Sam merely held him in his arms and rocked him for as long as Bucky needed.

They both had very different fears. Bucky could see it in Sam’s sweaty face, as he practiced and failed and beat himself up about not getting the proper hang of the shield. He could hear it in Sam’s grunts when he threw it, employing the last bit of his strength, and still missed. Only this time, as Bucky sat on the grass, enjoying the fresh country-side air and keeping Sam company, he saw more frustration than he’d seen in Samuel’s eyes before.

He lifted his gaze right on time to see Sam get furious with himself and throw the shield with pure rage and a loud growl. No technique, no precautions nor actual aim, but a desperate and annoyed and very sloppy shot that sent the artefact somewhere into the forest. Unfortunately, such anger release should still have been executed with the right skill, for the sloppiness of it harmed Wilson’s wrist. As soon as Bucky saw him complain and hold his own hand, he stood up and attempted to take a look.

“Fuck!” Sam let out, turning around to refuse Bucky’s attention.

“You okay?” the latter asked.

“No, I’m not! I’m so not okay, I’m terrible.” He turned back around and began venting right on Bucky’s face, “I should be getting this right by now, it shouldn’t be so hard! He never should’ve given me the shield, I can’t…”

Bucky felt his heart heavy on his chest, listening to Sam’s self-deprecation. But he listened quietly, giving him room to get it out of his system.

“I’m already not even half of who he was, Buck.” He lowered his tone during that specific lament, then returned to a more elevated and frustrated one, aimlessly waving his arms around, “Now I can’t even use this thing! How am I supposed to go out and fight with it? Why’d I ever think I could do this? I’m not ready. I never was! Why the hell did he-? I…”

As his rage turned into rambling and his words drowned out in loud breaths, Bucky took a few decided steps in his direction and forced Sam into a hug. No matter his doubts, the important thing right now was for Samuel to calm down. Giving into the gesture yet not completely, Sam didn’t need to reciprocate the embrace for his thoughts to become quieter. His nose still flared with discontent, but he managed to control his breath with Bucky’s arms around him and his head resting on Sam’s shoulder.

When nighttime came, Sam’s hand barely didn’t hurt anymore. After applying a bag of frozen peas for an hour, the articulation almost felt brand as new. However, that didn’t mean the subject was done for. The couple was sitting on the couch, silently watching television, when Wilson realized he couldn’t move past it so easily, and therefore he pressed the off button on the remote without any former announcement.

Bucky turned to face him with a mildly confused look.

"You shouldn't do that.” Sam said softly, “Walk into people's breakdowns when they're being violent."

The brunette simply shrugged, "Seemed like you needed it."

"I did. Thank you.” Sam gave him the smallest grin of gratitude before closing all distance between them and planting a kind and short kiss on his partner’s lips, “But I'm serious. I'm wired for... making sure you don't get hurt. But that's me. Do that adorable gesture with anyone else, they might accidentally-"

"Who else would I hug, Sam?" Barnes interrupted him in a mocking tone.

"I don't know." The man laughed, "Sharon? And she'd definitely break your arm. Perhaps even intentionally."

Bucky smiled big as he nodded. A tiny chuckle escaped his lips, and he looked into the distance, already forgetting what they were discussing. Sam contemplated that, how when your past is so traumatic and painful every little problem now seems too easy to deal with. Maybe he didn’t care if Sam had lost control and got him hurt for barging in the middle of his rage, because he didn’t care too much about his physical integrity. Perhaps he did, but he valued Sam’s emotions a whole of a lot more. Or maybe he was so nonchalant about any kind of conflict –that didn’t involve Hydra or the KGB, of course– that he hadn’t even thought about it. He just hugged Sam because his gut told him to.

All things considered, Bucky was a pretty sane guy, which gave Sam some well-deserved tranquility. He knew he didn’t have to take care of Bucky. He didn’t even have to talk some sense into him, but merely wrap him in his arms and support him, and he rejoiced in the idea that Bucky had done that exactly to him earlier that day.

"Come 'ere." Sam let out, extending his arm for Bucky to lay back against him, with love and borderline worshipping in his voice.

"Why?" Bucky reacted rather aggressively.

Sam rolled his eyes, "Just come, don't be stubborn."

"Oh, I'm stubborn?"

"James. I'm begging you. Let me be cute and mushy, please?"

Suddenly, Barnes felt all too dumb because it took him so long to understand a simple love gesture: Come ‘ere. I wanna hold you. He concealed the small smile threatening to take over his features and did as asked, falling back and resting his head on Sam’s lap. The latter stared down at his partner with smitten eyes, and soon began running his fingers down the brunette’s hair. After a whole minute or two of the most intense yet at the same time softest eye contact, Sam’s hands travelled to the man’s cheeks and started caressing him with extreme care.

"I love you." He spoke loud and clear, certain of his bold statement.

For being the first time any of them said it, he was surprisingly calm. There was no nervousness, no hesitation, but heavy and utter admiration for the man whose head rested on his lap.

Bucky raised his eyebrows without thinking it, "Shit."

Even though nothing would ever make Sam take it back, an embarrassed smirk took over as he looked away.

"I mean, I..." Bucky tried to retract such a harsh reply, and he made Sam face him again by his chin, "I wasn't expecting it. I thought we just... weren't that kind of people."

"The kind of people who love?" Sam narrowed his eyes jokingly.

"No, of course I love you. I thought that was obvious, 's why I just figured we weren't gonna make a big deal out of it."

The words made Sam smile idiotically. He truly, entirely and frantically loved that stupid, stupid, dumbass. And his way of saying ‘I love you’ was even more idiotic than Bucky himself, which only made Sam adore him even more.

"Good to know.” He said as if it physically bothered him to speak through such an intense smile, “But I like big deals. That bother you?"

Bucky dragged Sam’s chin down in order to make their faces meet.

"Nah. I'm cool with that." He said before kissing him, claiming him without words.

[cozycryptidcorner]

Chapter Four

Read Chapter Three Here

Okay, so you might have had to immediately climb back down to grab your tablet. No big deal, just a sensor that would have alerted whoever is at the helm of movement, and you need to make sure that it won’t be pinging out in distress that someone is banging around in the atmospheric control ducts. You’ve already pestered Elias about the wireless network service, and he gave you the information of one that is most certainly being monitored very, very carefully, and absolutely would not be shared with a machine that keeps everyone from suffocating. More than likely, the atmo ducts have an internal system, one that you might be able to tap into with a handy-dandy wire plugged into your trustee tablet.

It’s the oldest trick in the book to the point where most people don’t even think of it, to begin with, and instead have all these fancy smancy firewalls that keep all incoming signals from coming close enough to touch the cyberspace, but forget that someone could just plug themselves in and immediately have the same kind of access for far fewer tears. The driders, apparently, are no different than your usual hits and have almost no sort of internal security to defend from any internal attacks, almost like they never thought that would happen. You run a quick codebreaker app, and within moments, you’re in, a two-dimensional map of the floor blinking onto the screen as the information downloads.

A little red tracker signals which station your tablet plugs into, showing your apartment label as 123412.5, which isn’t anywhere near as helpful as you’d thought it would be. What you had hoped was that all the rooms would be designated nice and dandy with the names of people and what they are used for, but nope. Gods forbid for anything to be remotely easy for you! Biting your lip down, you try to make sense of the numbers, thinking that maybe it has to do with your… birthdate? No. Birthplace? No. Your name, somehow? No. But something a little strange is that no other rooms on the floor have digits in any way close to yours. 346578, 346690, and 346744 are the ones right next to your apartment, which you don’t have to be a genius to notice they those are widely different from than the one you were given. While you can note the positions of rooms, you’re sure there’s some method of figuring which room is for whom, and maybe even a code for the names.

Sometimes the only way to crack a code is to look at a cheat sheet. You find the control panel for the motion sensors and turn them off. Instead of going around and barging into random people’s apartments (most humans don’t take kindly to that, you expect the driders to be the same), you decide to start poking around some industrial closets to see what you can see. Before you can begin worming your way through the ducts, though, a loud knock sounds on the door, your soul almost jumping into a different plane of reality from shock. Careful not to bang your head on the edge of the opening as you close it the flap, before silently hopping down the bookshelf and get to an acceptable altitude for your voice to be.

“Yes?”

“Ma’am? You asked me to tell you if I saw your servant. She just returned.”

“Oh!” You’re already pushing the bookshelf back up against the wall. “Thank you so much for letting me know. I’ll be out in just a minute.”

“You’re welcome, ma’am.”

God, these stone floors are good for moving noiselessly. You don’t hear the drow maid as she retreats back to whatever chore she was doing, which means you probably couldn’t sense if she comes back. Good to know that you’re in a pretty vulnerable position, not that you didn’t know that already. Looking over the room one last time just to make sure everything seems reasonably normal, you unlock the door and leave, walking down the hallway and almost running into the Starward Matchmakers™ representative. After taking a generous step away to avoid getting mowed over, you let out a huffy breath.

“I was looking for you everywhere,” you bark, crossing your arms and glaring. “Where have you been? The prince showed up, I was floundering in the dark.”

“Oh, right,” she places a perfectly manicured hand on her forehead. “That’s what we’re here for, aren’t we. I almost forgot.”

It takes you a moment to process the fucking oddity of her words. She almost forgot? The Starward Matchmakers™ representative doesn’t forget, she remembers everything about everything. This isn’t good. “Where were you?”

“I- I don’t recall... oh, that’s right. I went out to speak with the prince’s assistant. Elias.”

This does not bode well. “Alright, let’s go back to your room. I’m going to take a look at your processing chip.” If you so much as breathed in ay which way to suggest that you wanted to peak at the Starward Matchmakers™ representative’s internal processors, she would typically take that as an invitation for a whack. But she doesn’t even raise her hand in a threat, only follows you to the wide-open door and inside without a word of protest.

Once the door is shut (the Starward Matchmakers™ representative is particular about her privacy), you gently tilt her head back, then fiddle around on the side of her neck until you find a control panel. Ugh, these newer models are so goddamn lifelike that most people can hardly tell the difference, but that means that someone unfamiliar with the mechanics is going to have a rougher time figuring out what goes where. After a moment of fiddling around, though, you find a corner of her artificial skin that presses down like a button, and out pops a chunk of metal and skin-like silicone. The exposed insides look like raw muscle, which was most certainly a conscious choice from the manufacturer. They want the androids convincingly humanesque down to the literal bloody details, almost as if they’re playing a game of gods.

It’s terribly stupid.

And incredibly inconvenient.

You reach between two of the twitching muscles with a finger, biting down on your tongue to keep from making any noises. After just a moment of digging through the twitching wetness, you find a button that you hope is a shutdown override, pressing it down until you feel it click. Instantly, the Starward Matchmakers™ representative’s eyes flicker as she falls back onto the bed, still as a board. Or a corpse. Calmly as a phantom, you stand over her, staring down at her blossom covered blouse as you try to build up the courage to rip open her chest. Only after taking in a generous breath do you bend over, fingers outstretched to work open the first button. Her eyes open just before you get the chance to even graze the fabric, and her voice, cool and devoid of emotion, speaks.

“Initiate full shutdown?”

You shout. Actually, it’s more of a quiet, rather undignified shriek, one that you would never openly admit to making. While you had expected to give some kind of voice command to open up her central circuitry unit, you didn’t realize she would do…. That. Look at you with those empty blue eyes, her light hair still in some kind of impossibly perfect style, her mouth moving but without her voice. And to think she kicked your ass a nigh forty-eight hours earlier.

“Initiate full shutdown?” Her prerecorded voice asks once more.

“No, no.” You find your footing, creeping back over to where you were. Maybe you don’t have to get all up in her business, after all. “Commence full system diagnostics.”

It takes a moment for the command to process.

“Commencing full system diagnostics. Estimated time of completion; 24.5 hours.”

Internally, you’re screaming. These fucking fancy pieces of machinery and their ‘high functioning’ abilities to perform like humans until one of them breaks a nail and it’s a week in the shop until everything’s better.

“Correction: estimated time of full systems diagnostics report will be completed in 26.77 hours.”

You’re going to grind your teeth to dust on this mission, you think, looking at the clock and trying to even your breathing. One day, just one day, and then everything is going to be fine. You’re fine. This is fine. Everything is fine, fine, fine, fine, fine.

When you leave her room, you’re careful to shut the door behind you, though you don’t lock it. You’d like to get back inside without revealing your advanced lockpicking skills, and you don’t really have it in you to request a second set of bedroom keys from the drow servant. Not yet, anyway. Without anything much else to do, you go back to your room, though not to try shimmying your way through the atmo ducts again. Instead, you throw yourself onto your bed with your tablet and do your absolute darndest to distract yourself from everything else until it’s time to eat. The prince doesn’t request your company for the rest of the day, so you try to keep your heart from bubbling over with anxiety and keep your eyes and brain focused on Funny Vine.26 Video Compilation 55, TRY NOT TO LAUGH OR SMILE.

Suddenly you’re awake, and it takes you a moment to realize that you must have fallen asleep at some point in the video. The tablet screen is off, you can’t see it in the blackness of the room, so you feel around for it until your fingers hit the hard glass-like material of a screen. Dim light fills the room as you press into the button on the side, the shadows long and looming. You sit up quick enough that a wave of dizziness washes over your skull, your heartbeat throbbing throughout your body and into your fingers. It’s already noon?

You slip out of your bed, biting your bottom lip, checking to make sure that your door is still locked out of a paranoid habit you developed while working freelance. The handle doesn’t budge. Even though the drow servant has a set of keys, you don’t think that she’s the type to break into someone’s room while they are sleeping. Letting out a slight huff of breath, you flip the lock, quietly opening the door to look before you leave just in case the prince is lurking out in the common area like yesterday. You don’t see him near the bookshelf, or over by the dining room, but that’s where your scope of vision unfortunately ends.

Taking a gamble, you step out, smoothing down the front of your shirt. The drow servant is working over by the cabinets, you think she’s cleaning something out, and she’s quick to approach once she catches sight of you. “Good morning, ma’am! Apologies for not waking you, but I suspected you wished to remain sleeping.”

You yawn, rubbing the edge of your eye. “You suspected correct, thank you. Has the prince… erm… dropped by, at all, looking for me?”

“His assistant called asking if you were available to accompany the keias on another walk in the gardens, but I informed him that you were asleep. You have been requested to contact the assistant at your leisure. I have food ready to warm up if you would like, ma’am.”

“Thanks,” you say, distractedly, “I would appreciate that. I’m... going to get dressed while you heat the food.”

“Excellent, I shall begin at once, ma’am.”

In a bit of a haze, you wander back to your room, debating on how to handle the day with the Starward Matchmakers™ representative down for the count in a vulnerable position. You aren’t absolutely certain, but the fact that the drow attendant, Elias, was the last person she remembers going to meet is highly suspect. No duh. This has got to be some kind of trap, or at the very least, a test. Until you get more information, it’s probably most beneficial to go on and act like nothing is happening. You get ready for the day, careful to select an outfit that would be considered more presentable to the public than the last.

You eat breakfast, something relatively familiar to your taste buds, and radio the drow attendant to let him know that you can meet the prince whenever he’s ready. The drow attendant politely informs you that he’ll get back to you on that. An hour passes. To say that you’re bored wouldn’t exactly be all the way correct, but you’re definitely going stir-crazy, half expecting that every time you turn your head, the prince would be crouched in any of the corners you currently aren’t looking at. So, instead of staying on the couch,staring blankly up at the ceiling, you grab your tablet and scoot on out of there.

While growing up as a miner might have aided in your abilities to handle tunnels and rocky structures, you never really had to deal with gravity in those situations. Really, the only thing you had to worry about were the buzzermites, little critters that didn’t need to breathe, but could a heavy number on any electrical equipment. Here, though. Let’s just say that the critters are more… predatory. Terrifying. So your little exploration expedition is weighed down by all the random excuses you have to come up with if someone gets a little accusatory.

What are you doing here, aw, nothing, totally not trying to figure out the algorithms of the room labels. Definitely not looking over the downloaded map right now and trying to figure out if that door is a closet or someone else’s apartment. Calmly, you count the number of rooms you’ve passed on the map, trying to correlate that to what you’ve seen, one, two, three, four, crash. Something spills out onto the floor, and you stumble backward in a few shaky steps. After just a moment, you manage to regain both your balance and focus your vision, finding that you nearly managed to mow over a drow servant and their cart.

“Oh fu- I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there!” You immediately help with the cleanup, bending over to gather what you can in your arms, noticing a surplus of decorative towels and sheets, all resembling each other in the same silver and violet pattern. A cart that had just made an untimely introduction the side of your thigh holds more of the same shattered-shaped, glittering embroidery, so you do your best to dump what you had gathered neatly onto the top of the pile.

“I should have known better than to try to haul twice the load in a single run,” they say, though their voice is somewhat strained. The drow servant doesn’t seem to notice you, or, at least, your species, just that your voice is apologetic and around the same height as most other of the serving class. It doesn’t help that they are desperately trying to balance the wave of pillows and towels that had tipped over on their head, their dusty gray arms wrapped around the fabric. You don’t think it would matter if their face were uncovered or not, since their attention seems to be solely on keeping the mountain from becoming unbalanced before they can gently set everything back on the already overflowing pile of the cart.

Already, though, some of the pillows fall over the edge once more. You hastily move to catch them before they fall, or at least to quickly pick them up off the floor if you happen to miss. “It apparently worked for a bit,” you gander, looking over their shoulder to see that one of the doors was open. A storage unit. You try to commit the odd symbol to memory, desperately trying to memorize the sharp angles and sliding curves of the script in the second it would take to not look too terribly suspicious. “Let me help you ease the cargo a bit, I think that if I carry a couple of things, it won’t be in any more danger of tipping over.”

“Oh, do you have the time?” The drow asks, clearly thrilled for the help, before they manage to get a glimpse of your face. Their jaw hangs open, only for a hot second, before their face pales in what you can only imagine is terrible panic.

“I mean,” you try to calm the situation down, “I don’t really have anything better to do, to be quite honest.” It didn’t seem like that had the effect you wanted it to, so you try, “you look like you’re in a terrible hurry, and I want to help, so I’m going to start walking, and you’re going to tell me which way I’m going.”

That seems to snap them out of their stupor. “Of- of course, if it pleases you, your grace. Straight up ahead, I will get the correct door to open.” All prim and proper, as though you hadn’t just caught them entirely out of sorts. Whatever training they must get must be ridiculously good for them to be able to snap back from that kind of panic, or maybe prior experience has taught them not to shed too many emotions.

Whatever the case, you walk, trailing to the side of the cart with the intention of catching anything else that decides to stray. And, to be fair to the drow servant, the room that the load is supposed to go to is reasonably far from the closet. The distance only helps to further cement the map into your brain, now that you’ve managed to physically see for yourself where two of the locations are. The servant holds out one of their wrists, their left one, you notice, and the keypad on the wall makes a satisfied beep in response. The door unlocks, and the drow servant turns the old-fashioned handle to let you in first, standing to the side.

You step into the room, mentally calculating how much you can snoop before it looks suspicious, and decide that you have to play it easy for now, especially with your only way out virtually down for the count, possibly infected with some sort of trojan virus. So you step away from the door, sticking to the wall, staring at the fairly similar, yet unique layout of the new and entirely different suite. The architecture is familiar enough that you can tell that it is, in fact, part of the same building and era, but changed just enough that you would know if you had accidentally wandered into it thinking it was yours. Interesting. You wonder if those designing the underground had a different spin on every suite, or if there are only two or three repeating designs. You suppose you’ll find out eventually.

“I’ll take those,” the drow servant says, gathering the bunch of cloth out of your arms and wandering off to what you assume is the restroom.

“Someone looks like they’re redecorating,” you say in a simple observation. Everything else about the room is completely stripped away, the humanoid-made couches missing their cushions, all the cabinets in the kitchen area open and empty.

“Not redecorating,” the drow servant says, then seems mildly hesitant to add, “the ambassador has been... replaced.”

“Oh.” You have no idea who they’re talking about, but now you know that you’re on a floor with a bunch of important people. Which you had probably known, you think you had a very brief, very rushed lesson about the importance of who will most likely be sharing similar accommodations. Still, hearing it from of a native is different than the hazy guesses offered up to you by an overpaid military official who barely knows what was going on twenty light-years beyond the border. You suppose that if someone… not you, of course, but someone wishing to wreak havoc could inflict a lot of intergalactic political damage just by briefly messing with the air filters on this exact floor.

Then you realize the choice of words being used. “Replaced?”

The drow servant shakes their head. “It isn’t my place, your grace.”

“Of course,” you blink, taking a step towards the door, “I’ll get out of your hair, then. Sorry about running into your cart in the hallway.”

“Oh- please don’t apologize, your grace, it was my own fault for being so careless with myself!”

“No, you were just trying to do your job efficiently, and I got in your way.” You’re already in the hallway, but you pause, and try to consider how they might feel if your job- no, if your life was on the line because you accidentally ran over the queen of England with a serving tray. “I won’t tell anyone, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

There’s an abundance of relief on their face, but also a carefully hidden smidgen of suspicion, one you wouldn’t have been able to sniff out if you weren’t so well-versed in winning people over to believing whatever you promise. “I know what you’re thinking,” you say, holding up your hands in surrender, “you think that I want something in return, and you’re right.”

They bite. “What… what is it, your grace?”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Y-your grace?”

“That, yeah.” You wave your hand. “It’s annoying. Just call me by my first name, ‘miss’ or ‘ma’am’ if you absolutely must. If the prince has some kind of weird fetish over being worshipped, you can do what you must in his presence, but when he’s not around, it’s fine to just be casual, m’kay?”

It takes a moment for them to fully process what you’re saying. “M-miss?”

“That’s it.” You grin, placing your hands on your hips. “You got it already. Maybe spread the word about this, too.”

They nod.

“Alright, it was nice getting to know you!” You offer a little wave, then get on out of there. Even though you managed to appear cool as a cucumber, your heart is hammering inside your ribcage. All it takes is this one servant to report your odd behavior, you’re sure, and it’s all over. You don’t know how exactly it would be over, but surely they’d figure out that you’re trying to do reconnaissance through the servants. It is one of the oldest tricks in the book. The human book, you guess, but still the book. Oh god, you might throw up. You need to eat something, maybe watch a flick to get your mind off the shakingly reckless shit that you’ve been up to.

No such luck though, because why would the universe see fit to ease your pain in the slightest? Why would you be so silly to think that? How could you hope for anything outside of the prince, standing in the middle of the common space like a goddamn apparition, waiting, apparently, for you.

“Oh, hey,” you say in what you imagine a perfectly normal nonchalant greeting should be like. “Your assistant didn’t tell me you were coming, so… um, I went for a walk.”

“You look unwell.”

Goddamnit, you probably look like you’ve wandered out of a nightmare. “I didn’t sleep great last night.”

“Was the bed not to your liking? Are the pillows too stiff or soft for your neck?” He immediately tenses, and you can feel a soft aura of bloodlust roll off him like a dewdrop from a flower.

You swallow thickly. “No, the bed is amazing. I just… couldn’t get to sleep. My mind wouldn’t settle.”

“Stress.” He says as though he had known from the moment you stepped through the door, and not as though he were, just moments before, ready to strangle whoever put together your room. “You’re stressed. This is stressing for you?”

The room tilts slightly, but you catch yourself before you so much as wobble. Yes, you’re stressed, you want to scream but don’t. There are too many variables, too many people for his anger to flow towards. You reach up and rub your temples, taking in a shaking breath, knowing that you’re on the precipice of a panic attack. Sitting would be deeply preferable, but you would have to shove your way past the prince, and you don’t think that the two of you are on that level of understanding quite yet. He might think- he might think-

You take another breath, deep, gaping, and balance yourself on the bookshelf. Don’t lie to me, the prince’s voice echoes in your head as you open your mouth to speak the single most used falsehood in the history of humankind. “I’m fine.”

“Perhaps you believe that,” the prince says, offering a steadying arm, which you hesitantly take, “but it appears that gravity sickness has begun to catch up with you.”

Lolth’s gravity is almost twice more than you are used to, Clementine had said once, drumming her short fingernails against a steel table, I give you one week at best before you really start feeling it all up inside those bones and muscles.

God, you hate it when she’s right. And you especially hate that barely three days have passed and you already want to lay down and go into a three-year coma.

“You need to expand your center of gravity,” the prince, at least, sounds like he knows what he speaks of, and he generously steps out of your way. You can take a few shaky steps forward and lay down on the couch, your brain swimming around in circles as your muscles twitch occasionally. Then, after a moment of silence, he reaches a hand down and gently pets your hair. “You mustn’t be so crass with your own health. I understand that ‘fine’ doesn’t at all mean its exact definition when humans use it in the same context,” he continues, the sharpness of his claws never once pressing hard enough to hurt, not even by accident, “however, I don’t wish for you to use it when it comes to your own safety.”

“Alright,” you agree quietly, your hands resting on your hammering chest. Then, in an even more subdued voice, you ask, “are…. you going to stay?”

His hands don’t stop their movements. “Do you wish me to leave?”

You have to think about it for a moment, because even though your immediate instinct is yes, please leave me alone, you bite your lip down and realize that you don’t want to deal with this all alone. You really don’t know what’s gotten into you, later you might convince yourself that you like the way his fingers move against your scalp and nothing else. Or, a deeper part of yourself that you rarely listen to whispers, you’re finally tired of dealing with this kind of shit solo. Whatever the case, you open your mouth, fully intending to send him away. But something else comes out instead.

“No, don’t go.”

[rigelmejo]

OK this is not gonna matter to anyone BUT ME but OKAY HERE’S THE DEAL:

SO, I own the print copy simplified version of the novel Zhen Hun 镇魂 by Priest. I’ve been lamenting though, because when I first bought it, I skimmed through it (with my extremely limited Chinese language skill at the time) and had concluded it was missing the extras. In the extras, Priest wrote a happier ending and also wrote a happy ending that tied in the cdrama to the book in a positive way. I had also assumed, from things I’d heard about the Taiwan special print edition in traditional characters, that the Shen San extra was... only in that edition.

Recently I was scouring the internet to try to purchase that version, so I could have the extras. Today I talked to someone who might have the book - I figured they might know which version of the book had the extras. THEY informed me, that the simplified copy I had with the foggy mountains on the covers, HAS ALL THE EXTRAS AND THE SHEN SAN EXTRA TOO!

I skimmed the book again (really, just skimmed and read the titles) - I realized my books do in fact have an ‘extras’ section in the back. But still, I didn’t see the Shen San extras.

But they said they had the SAME VERSION as me and the Shen San extra was in their copy.

So, I read big chunks of the Extras in my book. ONE, YES! YES, I FOUND THE SHEN SAN EXTRA IN MY BOOK. ToT You truly have no idea how overjoyed I am, that I own a version of the book with this extra! This extra is hard to find digitally, and lo and behold I own it and can read it whenever I want ToT!!!! I’m so happy!!!!

BUT ALSO, this matter of reading bigger chunks to figure out which extras I had? I JUST READ GUARDIAN. AS IN, I JUST READ THIS BABY WITHOUT A DICTIONARY. WITHOUT PLECO, WITHOUT MY PHONE, WITHOUT ANYTHING BUT MY BRAIN AND THE PAGES YOOOOO!!!

I cannot even contain how overwhelmingly happy I am right now. 

I was not reading sections of the book I’d read in chinese before. I was not reading parts I have even read an english translation of. I was literally just reading paragraphs and paragraphs of Guardian to figure out what was going on in each area. First I read a chunk about Guo Changcheng writing even though their was no case, Chu Shuzhi being fond, and Lin Jing staring at Guo Changcheng because he’s changed (I think his hair was different - it was clear while I did this that adjectives were my biggest ‘blind’ spot since I know those characters the least). Then another chunk about Long Cheng University having a case, and another chunk (in the middle of the book) of Shen Wei saying “wo...” speechlessly, then another of Zhao Yunlan talking to someone and catching them off guard because he looks so young and smile-y, before looking at his watch (I believe it’s that ghost catching watch thing). 

ANYWAYYYYY I NEVER THOUGHT I WAS GONNA BE ABLE TO DO THISSSSS!!!

Anyway all this shows MY BIG FOOL SELF is that clearly I can fucking read more than I give myself credit for, and I am a big baby for refusing to challenge myself as much as I should. Clearly the times I do challenge myself pay off over time. It was abundantly obvious that every character I’ve been studying recently paid off, that every past attempt reading fiction has been paying off (my much speedier recognition of doing hand/body/head/eye gestures do to reading about them constantly in fiction descriptions, my practice reading narrative descriptions, my practice reading Priest’s style of writing descriptions, my practice reading Priest in general giving me a big help in being familiar with some of the word choice, my recent fiction reading practice giving me a HUGE boost in getting better at recognizing proper names even when I don’t know the characters for the names and even when there’s no ‘introduction’ line explaining that it’s a name). Last time I tried to read Guardian without a dictionary, I was skimming and just following the dialogue and a few very clear actions. This time, a couple months have passed since then, and oh WOW I could actually READ for the gist of the PLOT AHHHHH!!!

I am clearly over-relying on the dictionary in Pleco a LITTLE bit, because I KNOW the web novels I’m reading right now are way easier than Priest’s writing. If I can read Guardian for the gist of the plot WITHOUT a dictionary, then I definitely don’t need the dictionary for every other sentence in a simpler novel. But that’s a different thing. The main point is AHHH I READ GUARDIAN TODAY!!!!

I STILL want to get good enough to read it for details when I read it all the way through, but ahhh I am SO ABSOLUTELY OVER THE MOON ABOUT WHAT I JUST DID TODAY.

READING SO MUCH RECENTLY IS PAYING OFF!!!! AAAAAAHHHHH ToT I am so HAPPY. 

---

Ok trying to be calmer for a moment. OH. OKAY. So, practical things to note: 

I ABSOLUTELY want to read through Hoenig’s Chinese Character’s book now and finish it, along with my other hanzi reference books. I feel like a TON of the unknown words I just read in Guardian... I could have vaguely comprehended if I’d just recognized the characters. And since adjectives can get creative and might not always be the Most common words, I think just having a broad base of character knowledge would help a ton. Even if I have to look words up in a dictionary ultimately, I REMEMBER words much better when I already know the characters that make it. 

I absolutely should keep learning from my most common word flashcard decks. Those bastards are helping me practically, more than any other ‘formal’ study method I’m doing. And yes, they’re helping more than the HSK list flashcard decks. My common word flashcard decks seem to be roughly including most words I run into repeatedly when reading novels, along with most words I repeatedly see in shows. Of all my vocabulary study resources, that’s the one giving me the fastest ‘payoff’ of “I will immediately use this and it immediately boosts my understanding.”

I absolutely should keep practice reading! I should keep reading my web novels in Pleco, and keep reading my books lying around - I read some of Grimm’s Fairy Tales in Chinese yesterday (I have a dual reader in english then Chinese, so I can reference the english version of stories if I get confused). I have NO idea what ‘reading level’ that Fairy Tale book is, but I know I CAN read the stories for the gist plot, and since I can then I SHOULD since its great practice. (Also, this feeds into why I should focus on learning more characters - so many adjective/descriptor words in this book would probably make immediate sense like hop/frog/wolf/croak/scream/fall/etc if I just could recognize the characters I read so I could more easily remember the words as I run into and learn them). 

So like, in summary: - LEARN SOME MORE CHARACTERS, FOCUS! - KEEP STUDYING THE MOST COMMON WORD LISTS, THEY HELP! - KEEP READING, ITS AMAZING!

AAAAAAHHHH I CAN NOT BELIEVE I READ SOME OF GUARDIAN TODAY. I CAN’T BELIEVE TODAY IS THE FIRST DAY I ACTUALLY MANAGED TO FOLLOW SOME OF THE ACTUAL PLOT COHERENTLY INSTEAD OF JUST SNIPPETS. IM SO HAPPY. IM SOOOOO HAPPYYYYYYYYYY!!!!

AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

for personal reference! I! Started learning! Chinese! August 2019! It is June 2020 right now! I’ve gotten here in just under a year! 

[minaa-munch]

Ashes and Dust (Part 1)

"Why do you say that? You live in Konohagakure no Sato so you're one of us."

Little did she know, Kushina had fallen in love with who she considered the greatest ninja this decrepit little village would ever produce. 

And that would be the first step in her descent to madness. 

----

"Summimasen, Sumure san, I hope I didn't keep you waiting for too long." He said upon reaching the older man, his head bowed a fraction. Yamanaka Sumure didn't reply at first, cold blue hues fixed upon the boy as if in deliberation.

"Did you find her?"

"Hai. She's recovering in the hospital wing right now."

Cue a grunt that Minato had come to identify as approval. Long, spidery digits came to grasp his clothed arm and he felt the familiar, impatient tug. Feet moved in automation as he had long learned to simply not bother. The Yamanaka wasn't terribly unkind - rather, Minato liked to think that the man had a hard time communicating. In fact, the only person he had ever seen him talk softly to was Ryusui Sobo.

That had been so long ago. Heaving the tiniest of sighs, the blond stared at his dirty shoes as they crunched against the autumn waste. Silver moonlight flickered in patches over the track that led to the Yamanaka compound, overshadowed by the thicket of trees that crept over the Nara woodlands. Such were the ties that bound the Yamanaka with the Nara and the Akimichi clans - the legendary trio that had remained faithful long since before they had joined Konoha. 

Ryusui Sobo had told him all the stories. Minato had been her favorite (and only) student, after all. In fact, she was the reason he was here. She had left him a few things in her will and now he was finally old enough to collect. The clan head had been after his hide since the last two months, and had just about threatened to burn his seeming-inheritance if he didn’t show up today. 

But then Kushina had gotten herself kidnapped and the village had declared a level 3 emergency. All active shinobi ranked Chunin and above were to track her down and eliminate any assailants found.

Minato being Minato, had been the only one to notice the trail she had left - and naturally, Minato being Minato, had been too concerned with getting her back safely to properly ‘deal’ with her captors. The three Kumo shinobi had disappeared as soon as he had unbound her.

Not that their little disappearing act helped. Konoha and Kumo would go to war and they only had themselves to blame. 

“We’re here.”

But at least she’s safe - a small voice, very much like his own was enough to coax a smile from his monotonous features. Blue hues flickered upwards to the hauntingly familiar floral patterned shoji door that belonged to his deceased grandmother’s quarters. Minato had been given the option of claiming her space as his own when she had died, but he had politely declined. 

He happened to like his little apartment near the trade district, thank you very much. It gave him plenty of excuses to frequent Jiraiya sensei’s house and he was more than content with the barrage of cold cereal and sweet dumplings that would usually greet his arrival. 

The Jonin gave him a semblance of family that only his grandmother had managed to provide when he was younger. Bending down on one knee, the Namikaze removed his dirty shinobi sandals, mindful of keeping them in the floral-patterned rack she had put there just for him. A hand on his shoulder cautioned him not to linger and Minato rose, fingers easily sliding the door open. 

It took him a moment to realize that he wasn’t alone, and that Sumure was standing too close for comfort - another to realize that he couldn’t move. The hand on his shoulder tightened for a brief moment before it fell away, and blue hues found themselves locked on the intruder’s emotionless brown ones. 

 “- so you're one of us."

The last thing he remembered was gloved digits weaving hand signs for a jutsu he did not recognize, before a palm was slapped tightly over the top half of his face. He couldn’t see anything, but that was hardly the troublesome part. Tendrils of icy chakra crawled over his skin, leaving burning imprints in its wake. It burrowed through his forcefully open eyes, flooding his being with a painful numbness that he couldn’t help but succumb to.

“- one of us.”

Namikaze Minato knew no more. 

----

“Sensei, please” The man begged, hands splayed in front of him, “He’s a clan-less, airhead of a boy” a Jonin as reputable as Jiraiya was not prone to such helplessness, and it made him feel a certain degree of powerlessness that he hadn’t felt in a...very long time, “Anyone. Anyone else and I wouldn’t be fighting with you on this.”

That boy was a prodigy. He was the child of destiny. Minato-- 

“Enough.” the Sandaime sounded tired, if not entirely exhausted. Dark hues surveyed the village before him, the glass of his window doing little to reflect the sheltered expression he wore, “I think you should get ready for your mission.”

“Sensei!”

“Not now, Jiraiya. We have bigger things afoot.” His tone was more stern this time, as he turned to face the floundering mammoth of a man that was his student - one that had been reduced to a spluttering, yet surprisingly resolute wreck. The sight was enough to make the sensei in him soften - if only a tad. Sarutobi stepped towards him, one hand resting softly on his shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

“I promise to keep an eye out for him” He began, his tone taking an instructive hue, “But we have a war to worry about and you need to focus. We can discuss this case after you return from Amegakure.”

“...”

“Go. Orochimaru and Tsunade are waiting for you.”

----

Pale digits mindlessly traced the Konoha symbol on her hita-ite as a medic filled out a form on her clipboard. She had been filling out said form since the last twenty minutes and Kushina was quickly getting bored. Sure, she had almost been kidnapped - sure, the chakra draining binds had left her feeling pretty weak (or she would have kicked their butts ‘ttebane!), and she had almost passed out by the time Minato had gotten her to the hospital.

But as always, she healed pretty damn fast. The demon in her would never let any real harm come to his beloved host. 

Or so he liked to claim when he wasn’t hurling insults at her. Regardless, her as-per-the-usual speedy recovery was probably an alien concept to the older woman as she peered at Kushina, her eyes narrowed and pen hovering annoyingly over the page.

“And you’re sure you don’t feel any pain wh--”

“Iie ‘ttebanne!” she hopped off the bed, violet hues narrowed in a glower only she could muster after such an ordeal, “I’m fine! Its what I’ve been trying to tell you since I got here” 

Honestly, she should have forced Minato to treat her to ramen instead. What a flake. Kushina felt a dopey grin stretch on her face at the momentary thought, along with the slightest bit of color. 

“Kushina san, I still think--” Cue a low growl that shut her up, as the Uzumaki crossed her arms in front of her chest. They stayed like for an entire minute before she rolled her eyes and stomped towards the door. 

“Kushina san--”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back if my nose itches” Was the flat reply before Kushina disappeared out the door, leaving her poor medic to wonder whether she would get reprimanded by her superiors for something that wasn’t even her fault.  

Kami, what a waste of time though! the red-head huffed, half-expecting the Namikaze to be waiting in the hospital lobby, and slightly disappointed that he wasn’t there. 

He must have been tired, she reasoned with the morose little twinge in her heart. No biggie, she would bother him tomorrow - maybe even let him accompany her to Ichiraku’s for lunch? She would pay, of course - but just this once! She wasn’t made of money ‘ttebanne. 

But for all her planning, she couldn’t find him in the morning, either. Seemingly, he had been sent to a mission in Kirigakure. 

No problem. He would probably be back in a week, right? 

Kushina wouldn’t know, for you see, after four days of her almost getting kidnapped, the Sandaime’s personal guard had showed up at the care center she shared with other orphans, a platoon of ANBU in tow. The entourage was a bit overkill, but seeing as how she had bitten one of them last time, and pushed another into a puddle of baby vomit...

Ahem. 

Regardless. It was wartime. They would have to keep her in custody, safe from any possibilities of getting kidnapped and losing the bijū as a result. Kushina remembered feeling feeling puzzled at the idea, but seeing as how she had almost been kidnapped a few days ago, she supposed it wasn’t too unreasonable. 

Had she known that the stupid village had in store for her, she would have probably sealed her entourage in a diaper bag and given the Hokage a black eye to go with his ugly goatee. 

“Unreplicable.”

“So we stick to what Yuu said?”

“Yes”

“Ugh. Fine. Summon him and Daike. 

“Iie. Can’t. Don’t have clearance from the council yet.”

“This is war. We have all the clearance we need.”

Violet hues snapped open as she sank to the floor, her knees unable to support her weight. The only thing stopping her from tumbling to the floor were her trembling arms - a rare sight considering the fact that this was Uzumaki Kushina they were talking about. 

“I can’t” she whispered, her voice faint behind her infamous curtain of red locks. Pale digits slowly curled into a fist, “He’s still too hostile.”

Damn fox.

The man wearing the bear mask simply lowered his outstretched palm in response. He was sitting cross legged on the floor, surrounded by wooden totems and had his face been revealed the Uzumaki would probably see a plethora of scars decorating a dark, emotionless visage. 

If he felt frustrated by the lack of her progress, he didn’t say anything. He was a patient man, in any case. “Why don’t you try again after a short break?” he monotoned, letting the wooden totems sink into the ground, though not bothering to get up in the least. 

Why don’t you try choking on some v-- “I don’t see why this is so important ‘ttebanne.” She ground through clenched teeth before shooting the man a glower that would intimidate any Inuzuka, “I have him restrained and he’s not going to go on a rampage anytime soon.” 

Bemused, the man simply cocked his head, seemingly unaffected by her glare. She was as tough as nails, really. Any normal gaki would have been terrified of her current predicament but here she was, probably imagining his head on fire or something. 

He clearly had no clue how creative - or resilient the young Uzumaki could be. With a small huff, she pushed herself to her feet, almost tripping in the process. Her hands were balled into fists by her sides and at the moment she looked more feral than a cornered animal. 

“You don’t get to question orders” He replied, wooden totems beginning to peak from the ground once more, “Again.”

Welcome to the ANBU, gaki.

[stusbunker]

Pretzel Crumbs

A Supernatural Fan-fic

Featuring: Sam Winchester x Reader

A/N: Porn Without Plot, seriously just SMUT below the cut. Fingering, masturbation, unprotected sex, a good ol’ pounding. This was written with wine, edited the next day, but not really justified. ;) xoxo Stu

The damp coldness of the Bunker floor stung your bare feet, sending you scampering in the early morning quiet. You didn’t bother to get dressed, instead you hid your body beneath an oversized hoodie on the way to the kitchen for a midnight snack. Time was confusing underground, midnight snack was close enough a description for a mouth full of whipped cream and a handful of pretzels.

After affectionately patting the stash you tucked inside your pouch, you turned to head back to your room. It was season release day of your favorite show, you had hours to go before you let your beloved characters go for another six to eighteen months. You froze, quickly retracing your steps to grab a bottle of water to wash down the salt when a heavy, yet warm arm reached over your head.

“Ahfn!” You ducked, swinging an ankle out in attempt to sweep the leg on whoever had you pinned against the fridge door. Hunting instincts were impossible to turn off. Sam hopped back, one hand on the door and the other on the fridge frame. He tilted his head down at you as he noticed your pants-lessness.

“Didn’t think you’d be up yet.” Sam teased, grabbing the bottle next to the spot left by yours, which was now clutched to your chest like a sacred stuffed animal. His Lanky-ness reached down with his left hand and dragged you back on to your feet.

“Yet? You underestimate the power of a good Netflix binge.”

“Really, Y/N? We just got back from four days on the road and you’re already not sleeping?” Sam gave you the ‘take better care of yourself’ leer.

“We got back after eleven last night and you’re already up and running. Don’t “at” me with those eyebrows, Samuel.” You retorted, pointing your finger into his broad chest. His chin dropped as he tried to soften his forehead, you held his ever-changing eyes and suddenly you were both in fits. A deep belly laugh from him, something so warm and rare that it actually hurt a bit to hear. A half snort, half chuckle from you as you both acknowledged your respective hunting head-space coping mechanisms.

At some point Sam had started playing with the drawstring on your sweatshirt, though you didn’t notice because you had been coming down from your hysterics in large gulping huffs.

“Well,” you exhaled, looking up to the man you had been not-so-secretly pining over for the better part of a decade. “I’ve got the undead to see to.” Finally noticing how Sam spun the eyelet between his wide thumb and forefinger. He hadn’t been looking at you, but at the ground, his face scrunched as if he was deciphering Enochian.

“Y/N?” Sam started, but then straightened up. Backing away, letting the string fall back against your chest, which you rubbed absently as if pinning it in place. The simple action caused Sam to throw his head back and slam his eyes shut.

“Sam? What’s the matter?” You started to panic, he didn’t usually bring something up if it wasn’t important.

He shook his head, notably refusing to make eye contact. “Uh, nothing, you know?” He curled is mouth, “I should, uh, I should probably hit the trails before Dean finds us another case.”

“Sam?” You slinked toward him, breath hitching as his eyes locked on to your legs. “I’m not buying whatever you are trying to sidestep here. What. Is. Wrong?”

Sam swallowed, stepping back from you until his heels hit the step at the doorway. He scratched the back of his head, expression mixed as if he didn’t know how to tell Dean to lay off the whiskey, but knew someone had to say it.

“Legs.” Sam sighed. “Your legs are right there and I can’t keep my eyes off of them. And then my mind wanders, Y/N. That’s what’s wrong. The wandering.”

You looked down at your legs, twisting one on the ball of your foot as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “Uh, where exactly are those thoughts taking you? Because, um, your legs are right there too, Mister Running Shorts.”

Sam flinched a bit as your eyes hovered over his pelvis, before he replied in a husky whisper, “My thoughts are taking me right to the top of them.”

You gaped at him now, looking at him and then back at your body in utter perplexity. Once more, just to be sure everyone was real and present. “Now my thoughts are wandering.”

There was barely a tremble in your voice before Sam stepped forward and wrapped his long arm around your waist. But he didn’t start with your mouth, his scuff-covered jaw nuzzled your neck over, allowing his lips to burn against the tender flesh below your ear. It felt like a dream, every sensation new yet familiar. Every motion rushed, jumbled, wanted. You dragged your fingers down his muscled back as he pulled you up for the real deal.

Sam slowly pecked at your lips, drawing you open with need before delving into caress your tongue with his. His lips were firm, yet gentle. And impossibly, you melted further into him. A muted crinkling sound caused you both to freeze.

“Oh man!” You whined, tilting your sweater up to dump the pretzel crumbs you had crushed into being, on the floor. “Ugh, I better sweep this up before the Kitchen Nazi wakes up.”

Sam just shook his head, bunching the hem of the hoodie in his strong hands before pulling you back against him. “Leave it. I need to see more first.”

You gulped, his voice was so low you felt it more than heard it. With courage and confidence you didn’t know you had, you nodded, tossing your hands up in surrender and affirmation, for Sam to undress you. You tried not to think about what underwear you had on or the fact that it was always so frigid in the kitchen. But as soon as Sam had your top off, he was bending you back and scooping you up.

You shrieked, biting back the sound as Sam’s hot mouth found a pearled nipple. Your hands dug into his hair, holding him tight against you as he blindly led you back to his room. Once the door was kicked closed, he started stepping out of his clothing. Lips and teeth clashing again in a frenzied dance, each layer removed, meant a higher fevered kiss. Whichever hand was free was stroking every inch of your thighs, back and ass, pinching and pulling you closer. The heat rolled off of his body and yours shivered in reply. Every moment was reciprocated, matched, and challenged.

Your mind was spinning, but your core called you both to task. Once Sam was down to his running briefs, his deft fingers slid between your thighs, to that slicked valley where his thoughts had sent him. Still standing, you spread for him, needing something to rub against. You braced yourself against him leaving lazy nibbles along his pec. Your body sparked with each touch, your nipples ached in the open air.  As he sunk two fingers into your dripping center, you bucked, the rough stretch of him more than you ever dreamed.

He groaned as your hand slid lower, fingertips teasing against his abs, until ghosting over the taunt fabric of his shorts. He was hot and thick, and barely holding himself back. Slowly he bent down, granting his wrist more motion and you could no longer support your own weight. Every thrust had you clamping down on his digits. Your legs gave out as Sam sunk to his knees. He nipped just below your navel, gathering your knees to his stomach, he lifted you up, nearly hitting the ceiling as he tossed you onto his king sized bed.

You rolled over, crawling to the edge of the bed. When he reached you, Sam tried to loom over you, but once your hands found the waistband, he relented. “Finally, I get to see all of you, too.” You mewled, stroking inch after velvety inch of him.

“God, Y/N, hmmmm,” Sam’s eyes closed in pleasure, when suddenly you were gone. He gave you a devilish grin as you leaned back, settling yourself in the middle of his modest pillows. You dramatically kicked one leg over the other as his eyes and then his body pressed you to the spot. He quickly uncrossed your legs, leaving one bent and one straight as he settled at your apex. His cock dripped with precum, glistening against your thigh. You writhed beneath him, desperate for entry, to be filled and fucked. Desperate for all of him. All of Sam.

“Easy, baby, we’ve got time.” Sam purred, his pet name heavy on the air as he took you in a slow and sensuous kiss. This was not the reckless kiss from when you undressed, this was barely a brook, which lead to a stream, and soon the river had swept you both away. With Sam’s hands braced on either side of your face, you arched against him. Your walls fluttering against the emptiness. You moaned which broke off into a whine, the need for friction, for anything turning you into something closer to an animal. “Hm, looks like someone needs it too bad to take it slow this time, hm?”

“Sam,” You sighed, growling against his ear, “I swear if you don’t fuck me soon, I will do it myself.”

He chuckled, desire threading through each deep syllable. “I’d kind of like to see that.” He stroked himself, the pink tip drawing your gaze as his veiny hand moved in a practiced gesture. “But I think you’ve been patient enough with me.”

“Uh, you have no idea,” You let out in a contented whimper as he slipped slowly inside of you. Your wet cunt shook with the tempered entry, his cock was massive, stretching you deeply and you yearned to take it all in. Once Sam stilled you reached back and clutched his wrists, securing yourself beneath him. With one swift pop of his hips you were broken in, fitting perfectly over his length. Sam found a building rhythm, your back half off the mattress with one leg tight against his lower back.

Your tits shook with his thrusts, everything was heightened with Sam. His fierce eyes taking in every contorted expression and breathy hum. And somehow he still lavished you with affection, his lips and teeth pulled at your skin, sending shock waves over you, down your back, ending where you two were joined.

“So good to me, Baby. I can’t believe I wasted so much time without this.” He had slowed to a leisurely pace, but that just made everything more focused. Each entry sung with his prowess, while each retreat was tinged with loss, fueling a growing need.

As his tongue tickled the puckered flesh around your nipple, your finish began to unfurl. Deep inside, the layers melted away, Sam groaned as you tightened against him. He pulled back, bracing both your legs around his waist now, his fingertips biting into the soft meat of your thighs, pulling you tighter and closer than ever. Sam blew gentle streams over your chest, and his newly freed hand allowed him to coax your swollen bud with the rough pad of his thumb. Your sex boiled as every nerve ending awoke, like a struck match, lighting the next in a never-ending trail of dominoes, snaking through your lower belly until the final flame fell. And the dam broke. You came hard, drawing Sam deeper inside you as your body called him along.

Words and noises exploded from your throat, things that you had no control or understanding. With a few stuttered heaves of his wide chest, Sam moaned,  eyes slamming shut just before bursting open once more. He shoved himself to your limit, and just as your orgasm relented, his shot through you both. Hot, thick chords filled your body, spasms around Sam’s dick, took everything he could spare. Everything quieted, your moans and Sam’s breathing. Slowly, you released each other, falling sweaty and tired against the comforter. You leaned over, placing a simple kiss on each of his dimples, he nuzzled your nose in return.

“Do you have any idea how long I have wanted that? Wanted you?” Sam’s voice was reverential, a man who had never seen the night sky.

“Uh, no, clearly, because this would have happened like that,” you snapped your fingers, “had I’d known. Trust me.” You grinned lazily back at him.

Once you were settled beneath the blankets, Sam pulled you on to his chest. His thumb traced mindless patterns on your upper arm as you listened to the melodic thrumming of his heart. You cleared your throat and perched your chin over your folded hands. Sam’s arms propped behind his head like a pair of wings. “Uh-oh.”

“No, uh-oh.” You grimaced. “But-”

“But, what, Y/N?”

“Who’s going to tell Dean?” You asked, face comically worried. Sam laughed, his face bright and almost gloating.

“That’s what you’re thinking about?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m worried-”

“I’ll talk to him. I mean, if this is going to continue, which I hope it does.”

“Same.” You sigh, leaning up to place a lingering kiss on his amused mouth.

“I should go.”

“No fair.” You pouted. Sam pulled you in for a final tight squeeze before getting dressed for his late run.

“Just get some rest, I like the sight of you in my bed.” Sam flicked off his bedroom light and left you to wander off to intangible dreams.

Twenty minutes later and a booming voice shot through the Bunker, “Whoever thought it was a good idea to treat the kitchen like a bar floor last night, you better get your ass in here with the broom!”

Fucking roommates.

@dontshootmespence @ericaprice2008 @curly-haired-disaster @oneshoeshort @salt-n-burn-em-all  @madlu45 @mrswhozeewhatsis

Please tell me if you don’t want to be tagged! I just tagged some Sam!girls I follow, besides my usuals.

[the-digimon-tamer]

Chapter 30 - The Village on the Coast is out now on FanFiction.Net and ArchiveOfOurOwn! Check them out with the links or find it after the break!

Title: The Tamer v2.0 - In HIs Name

Fandom: Digimon

Rating: T

Synopsis: In the next adventure of the Digimon Tamer, the lives of Juri, Rika, and Henry change forever when digimon begin crossing over into the human world. But it’s all just a story, right? Just a book series by an author no one has seen in a long time. Why are they here and can they save their world before something worse follows the digimon?

They rested another day at the house, part to recover from the day’s fight and part so that the information could sink in for Kazu and Kenta. The rest of them hadn’t really interacted with the real Takato before but he was Kazu and Kenta’s friend. And they’d become uncharacteristically quiet ever since learning he was dead. 

The mood was hardly any better the next day when they headed off towards the lights in the horizon, and the travel was awkward the whole way. Thankfully, their journey eventually took them to a beautiful coastline that seemed to go on forever. And the sight of it seemed to raise everyone’s spirit if only slightly. Rika, however, was focused intently on Ryo who’d been quiet ever since the battle over the lake. Although she was unsure if it was due to the battle, Tamer, the truth about how his anger made Cyberdramon crazy, or something. She was sure he was still steaming about everything though and was trying his hardest to not lead it into Monodramon becoming violent again. Admittedly, the interactions between the two partners was out of sync now that Ryo knew the truth. Meanwhile, his partner Monodramon was grumbling about not being able to fly and wanting to hit everyone around him. Likely because of whatever pent up anger Ryo wasn’t dealing with. 

The funny thing was, everyone except Terriermon and Calumon would just push him away whenever he tried to take a swing at them. Even that idiot Guilmon was able to keep him at arm’s length. Sometimes with his tail. Since Ryo had been hanging back, Rika slowed her pace to keep up with him, “You alright?”

“Yeah, just...taking everything in,” Ryo answered quietly, “And processing everything that’s happened. It’s...aggravating.”

“I know the feeling. Goggle head got on my nerves a lot. But the thing about Takato…I mean, wow,” Rika nodded in agreement, trying to think of some positive points to add. One look at Monodramon was all it took, “At least your partner’s a lot...easier to handle now that you’ve…mellowed out.”

As she said that, Monodramon made another attempt at fighting and charged at Leomon. And for his efforts, Leomon picked up the digimon by the scruff of his neck and held him up at arm’s length, “Please stop that. It’s getting annoying.”

“I’ll stop when I knock you down a peg!” Monodramon hissed until Leomon knocked him on the head. The little dinosaur calmed down, whimpering in pain and rubbing his sore head. Ryo sighed, burying his face in his hands, “I don’t think I did. It’s hard to not get mad every time I see Tamer. How do you guys not get annoyed by him?”

Rika shrugged, “You’re asking the wrong person. Kazu and Kenta are his friends. Were? I don’t know, you’ve gotta ask someone else. Although I’m not sure who the right person to ask is.”

“How about Juri? She seems friendly. Although the puppet is kind of weird. I’ve been meaning to ask: what’s up with that?” Ryo gestured towards her, fiddling with her sock puppet anxiously. Rika recalled their conversation in the park about how hard it was for Juri to talk to others. In a strange new world, her anxiety was probably getting the better of her. And having Ryo question her might not be the best idea. Maybe Henry was a better choice? She waved it off, “Never mind. Let’s ask Henry instead.”

...

The only other sane member of their group walked in the middle with his hands in his pockets, casually asking Terriermon about every little thing in the Digital World as they passed. Part of it was genuine curiosity, part of it was because his partner had suddenly become very talkative. Terriermon gestured ahead, “It’s kinda hard to believe your dad made all this. He must’ve had a lot of free time on his hands when he was in college.”

“It’s scary to think what he would make if he still had that free time,” Henry surmised, thinking on what would’ve happened if he hadn’t lost his project. Would he be working in his lab, trying to make improvements to the Digital World? Would he have gotten married to his mother? Terriermon laughed, “Maybe you and your sister should do more to keep him busy. That way he won’t make any more things that’ll kill us!”

“If only,” Henry laughed, “Maybe Shibumi made some more helped programs while we weren’t looking. Wouldn’t that be nice if we had some of those digignomes following us around. Speaking of which.”

He looked over at the glowing balls of light playfully flying around Calumon as he hopped along side them, amusing him with their aerial ballet. Every so often, he’d bounce on one and ride it for a little bit before falling onto the ground. Terriermon asked, “Do you think Xiaochun is ready to see him again?”

“She definitely liked having him as a playmate,” he nodded in agreement, watching Calumon get lifted into the air by the little lights who continued to carry him around. 

“Hey! Henry!” Rika called out to him. He looked over his shoulder to see Rika and Ryo making their way towards him in hurry. Terriermon took the chance to joke, “I wonder if they’re coming to kick your butt.”

“Don’t put that idea in my head,” Henry frowned, worried his partner was right. It didn’t help that all he had to say in response was, “Moumantai!”

“If they kick my butt, I’m kicking you,” he warned his partner. The little digimon laughed at the empty threat and hurried off to join Calumon, who was busy being flown around by the Digignomes. Henry mentally prepared himself for whatever tai chi training he would need to defend himself when Rika stopped, “Ryo’s got a question for ya.”

“For me? What’s up?” he asked the other boy curiously. What did he have to offer a guy as experienced in the Digital World and as skilled in the card game as Ryo? He got an answer when Ryo shot Takato a sideways glare, “Tamer. How do you guys put up with him?”

Henry laughed at the oddness of the question, “It’s not hard when you have a partner like Terriermon around.”

Ryo frowned, obviously disappointed with the answer and added, “I’m not talking about his personality. I mean, how have you not gone completely crazy because of him? He drives me insane! All I can think about is how he dropped me off in this world for twenty years!”

Henry thought about that, recalling everything Ryo had said the day before and chose his words carefully, “Honestly, I’d be pretty mad if he did that to me. But the truth is, I guess I had more of a choice in the matter than you did. I could’ve walked away with Terriermon. It sounds like you didn’t have a choice. I think that would’ve been easier than getting the choice. Because the choice becomes standing by while others get hurt, or putting yourself in danger to protect others. If that makes sense.”

Ryo grumbled, “It really doesn’t. It sounds like he just hasn’t thrown you guys under the bus yet. I mean, you’re right about one thing: I didn’t have much of a choice. To be honest, I’m not sure you guys did either. After all, it’s only a matter of time before he says something like ‘all according to plan’ or something stupid like that. For all you know, he’s been pulling your strings since the beginning.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that about him,” Henry glanced at Takato once, walking in the front with his digivice out to navigate. Maybe he should stop thinking of him as Takato - the real Takato was dead. Then again, he never even knew the real Takato. So what did it matter if he called the guy Tamer or Takato? He seemed like the plain old guy who was just trying to stop all the craziness before it got out of hand, “But he doesn’t seem like the kinda guy who would.”

“He would and will,” Ryo said bitterly, before taking a deep breath to calm himself, “Sorry, I guess I’m still fuming about what happened.”

“Moumantai,” Henry patted the guy’s shoulder. He raised an eyebrow at him, “I keep hearing your partner say that. What does it mean?”

Henry laughed, “It’s Chinese and it means relax. Don’t ask me where he learned it. He says its because some Terriermon learned it from a human a long time ago..”

“Huh,” Ryo frowned, “Probably because of Tamer or something Tamer did.”

Henry frowned, noticing that Ryo still seemed to be seething a little. The fact Monodramon was still trying to jump the other digimon was a dead give away. He’d need to talk to someone else to get all that aggression out. But who else could Ryo ask that question to? After all, Rika had her own issues with Tamer and wasn’t the right person to ask. Kazu and Kenta wouldn’t be safe bets since they each knew the real Takato and Henry wasn’t sure what was going through their heads right now. It was almost unnatural how quiet things could be when they were chatting excitedly between themselves.

Juri seemed like a safe bet since she was following closest behind Tamerkato...that seemed like an odd choice of name for him but it worked. The Tamer was too weird, even a little too formal - but he couldn’t keep using Takato’s name. In either case, Juri seemed like she wanted to join the conversation but didn’t know what to say. She might be the answer, “You know what, I think I know the person you should be talking to! Juri!”

The girl jumped at the sound of her name, looking up sheepishly but still managing to smile. She had been quiet ever since the morning before the Devas showed up. Ever since Takato revealed the truth about the real Takato. Still, she seemed to be the least agitated about it. She slowed down so they could catch up, “What is it, Henry?”

“Ryo here wants to know how we’re not all being driven crazy by Takato,” Henry explained sheepishly, “And I figured you would be able to answer since you know him better. Well, know him better than either of us. You are in his class after all.”

Juri paused for a moment, her gaze moving skyward slowly as she rattled off anything that came to mind, “Well, he does drive our teacher crazy sometimes. But I guess it’s because they know each other? Although I’m glad when he interrupts the class because then I can try to catch up with notes. It was also weird, getting strung along with everything that happened-”

“That certainly sounds like him,” Ryo rolled his eyes and leered at Takato, “That guy always strings you along. It’s how he works. And you’d better believe that if it means leading you into something awful, he won’t bat an eye. So what did he do to stick you guys in this mess?”

Rika, and Juri all looked at each other - unsure how to explain their situation to him. Or rather, unsure who should go first. Juri answered first, “He didn’t drag me into anything. I signed up for this. He actually tried to talk us out of it and get us to walk away. But I’m here. And it’s been fun so far.”

“I didn’t even know Tamerkato was involved until a few days after all this started for me,” Henry offered his explanation, “Terriermon just showed up out of my computer one day. Next thing I know, all this is happening.”

“Tamerkato?” Ryo repeated expectantly. Henry shrugged, “Well, his name is Tamer but he’s running around with Takato’s face. But it feels weird to still call him Takato and Tamer is just...I dunno. Every time The Tamer comes up, he’s made to sound like something legendary. And he...well, isn’t.”

Rika was the only one who didn’t give an answer, which was bad since Ryo seemed to trust her over them. Ryo didn’t seem to notice though since he was still hung up on Tamerkato, “You’re not wrong. But wait until you see the real Tamer come out. And when he does, you’ll find out just how far you’ve been strung along.”

Henry was struck by that question and had never really stopped to consider if that was actually the case. Was Tamerkato quietly stringing them along? It sounded like what Rika had talked about in the park - the forgotten novel that described The Digimon Tamer as manipulative. But knowing how’d been acting since the truth came out about the real Takato, he wasn’t sure that was the case. Unless that was how Tamerkato was manipulating them. Then again, there was no way his attitude wasn’t genuine - he was flustered, confused, and well out of his depth.

“Whoa! Check this out!” Kazu called out aloud. They returned their attention forward to a sprawling walled village with a castle in the distance. The castle was decrepit, practically falling apart - like something from a feudal Japanese fortress that had been sacked and left to rot. Juri gasped, “It’s horrible! What is it?”

“That is ShogunGekomon’s Village,” Renamon answered, “The domain of ShogunGekomon and his people: the Gekomon and Otamamon. At least, that was its history. It was a bustling city a long time ago and is home to all sorts of digimon. They would take in anyone who needed a home, so long as they abide peacefully with others.”

“No way! That’s the thing from the show!” Kenta jumped up excitedly, “Kazu! This is the place from the show! Where Rika’s mom sang that song!”

“Man, what a dump. What do you think happened here?” Kazu frowned. Tamerkato grunted as he carried on, “We’re in the Digital World. Take a guess.”

He marched ahead with Guilmon just behind him. Leomon crossed his arms, “I don’t understand. It was not like this when I left.”

Henry was sure that Tamerkato’s statement was truer than he was comfortable admitting. And if it was, it would be dangerous to let their ticket wander off on his own, “We’d better catch up to them before they do something and get themselves hurts.”

It took them a while to finally catch up to them outside the village entrance. The village was populated by a mish-mash of digimon - the toad like Gekomon, the tadpole like Otamamon, small little orange dinosaur Agumon, little bunny eared Koromon, and more. The digimon hurriedly moved oversized barrels towards the edge of the lake, shouting amongst themselves to hurry before someone arrived.

Whatever it was that had them all so worked up, it made Guilmon growl towards the ocean and drew the attention of the nearest digimon. One of the Gekomon took a good look at the group before continuing his business. As Guilmon continued to growl, the Gekomon stopped again to look - obviously annoyed with his growing. Before he could start to yell at them, his gazed fixated on Ryo and his eyes widened. He shouted, “Is that who I think it is? The Digimon Tamer! Everyone, The Digimon Tamer is here!”

The announcement brought all the working digimon in the village to a pause, digimon everywhere stopping in their tracks to look up at them. Then a mad excited rush followed as all the digimon came together to swarm the group. It was all Ryo could do to quietly step back behind the others as they were swarmed, although it was obvious to everyone that they were interested in Ryo.

“You have to help us!”

“We’ve been working for him for years! He never lets us rest!”

“Only you can stop him!”

Everyone stepped back to get clear of the wave of digimon, watching in stunned silence as Ryo was treated like some kind of celebrity. Which should’ve infuriated both Ryo and Tamerkato for the case of mistaken identity. Instead, Tamerkato smiled from ear to ear for the first time since his grim announcement and quietly remarked, “So this is what it looks like from the outside. It’s kinda funny to see it happen to someone else.”

Overwhelmed by the sheer number of digimon and annoyed at once again being mistaken for the person he hated the most, Ryo looked back to them as if he were pleading for help. All he got was Rika joking, “Hey! Ryo! I think they’re talking about you.”

It was weird to see her crack a friendly joke like that. For all of them. And even weirder that it actually managed a small chuckle from Renamon.

“I’ll get them!” Monodramon shouted, baring his claws and charging in for the attack. He got just short of the crowd before bouncing off the backs of one of the Gekomon and landing face first into the dirt. Realizing he was on his own, the boy raised his hand to call for quiet. His lips curled into a frown as he explained, “Guys! I’m not the Digimon Tamer! Don’t call me that ever again. He’s over there!”

The excitement died down as they looked over at Tamerkato, smiling that dopey smile of his as he waved. The digimon of the village were unimpressed by what they saw and returned their attention back to Ryo, “That was funny Tamer, but this is serious! We’re in a lot of trouble!”

Tamerkato frowned and stepped back towards the rest of the group, “That was new. I don’t know if I’m offended or flattered.”

“Why don’t you show them your old digivice?” Juri asked. Tamerkato shrugged, ��What good would it do? They already don’t believe me. Besides, I’m more interested in what has them all so spooked and relieved to ‘Tamer’! Let’s see what’s going on with those barrels.”

He led the way past the crowd with Guilmon towards eight large bowls of foul smelling liquid just ahead of them. Guilmon got sick and started retching as they got closer. But Juri knew what it was as soon as she smelled it - it was the smell of strong alcohol. The kind her dad liked to drink and serve at his bar. She also knew that it was incredibly strong. Tamerkato took one sniff of the booze, barely flinching at the smell and remarked, “It smells a little weak.”

It made sense. He was a lot older than he appeared - who was to say he hadn’t drunk alcohol before. She watched him approach the nearest bowl and take a strong whiff. Then he scooped out a handful and took a drink. He fetched and coughed it back up, “Oh god. It’s gone bad. Who would drink this?”

“Tamerk-!” she paused, catching herself before she finished saying the name, “Takato!”

Thankfully he didn’t notice as he mouth and try to get out of his tongue. She was about to say he was too young for that, but then remembered this wasn’t Takato. It was someone else. And she’d just called him Takato. But the real Takato was dead. It never bothered her before to call him Takato. So why now? Was it the fact that she knew the real Takato was dead? She was pulled from these thoughts by Tamerkato wiping his mouth, “Sorry! It’s just awful. Who would want this!?”

“Don’t drink that!” An Otamamon shouted, running over to shoo him away from the drink before he could have anymore. The Otamamon pushed him back with his head, “That’s not for you! That’s for Orochimon. He likes his drink like that and it takes us months just to brew enough for him. So no more for you!”

“Orochimon,” Tamerkato repeated quietly, rejoining Juri’s side. The little Otamamon hurriedly poured more of the contents of the barrel into the bowl. She didn’t know much about digimon and had no idea who Orochimon was. She did think it was odd that the digimon in a place called ShogunGekomon Village were so concerned with the whims of a digimon named Orochimon. Maybe it was connected? Unfortunately, she was distracted by the powerful smell of alcohol coming from Tamerkato now. It seemed the smell rubbed off on him because he reached into the alcohol, “You stink.”

“I do?” Tamerkato sniffed himself and frowned, “Crap, I got it on me. I’m going to jump in the ocean real quick and then we can start asking around. I want to know why ShogunGekomon’s allowing any of this.”

She was about to stop him but was unable to open her mouth without getting a face full of fumes. Instead, she watched silently as he jumped into the ocean with his clothes on - soaking himself in the smell. 

...

A great roar blared in the distance and the gathered digimon returned to their panicked frenzy and started pushing the barrels out to the beach again. Of the digimon that assembled to meet them, only one Otamamon stayed to stare up at Ryo with wide eyed excitement, “Is it true? Can you really help us?”

Ryo glowered, burying his face in his hands in annoyance. Thankfully, Kazu stepped in to answer ecstatically by pointing a thumb to his chest and proudly proclaiming, “You bet we can! We’re the new team of digidestined and we’re here to help!”

“Please don't call us that,” Ryo groaned. The Otamamon turned its head in surprise, examining Kazu’s carefully before declaring his ego, “You’re a lot smaller than the stories make you sound. I expected the Digidestined to be taller.”

“I did say new,” Kazu pointed out to the unimpressed Otamamon. Kenta did his best to stifle his laughter while Guardromon had to hold Kazu back from jumping the little digimon. Rika rolled her eyes and introduced herself, “Don’t mind him. His mouth works faster than his brain. I’m Rika, this is Kazu, that’s Ryo, Henry, Kenta, Renamon, Leomon, and Guardromon. What’s going on here?”

The Otamamon gestured out towards the digimon and sheepishly explained, “Our village is preparing its weekly tribute to Orochimon, an eight headed serpent who terrorizes us if we don’t. We need to prepare a special brew of sake for each of his heads but it takes so long to make that we’re running ragged. We have to take turns working in shifts all day just to make sure there’s enough for him. And he starts eating us if we don’t have enough.”

Rika looked out upon the barrels and counted them. There were indeed eight barrels being lined up at the beach like cups. And for some reason, goggle head was swimming in the ocean while Guilmon and Juri watched. A few digimon shooed them away so that they could empty the contents of the barrels into the bowls.

Leomon asked, “I don’t understand. Where’s ShogunGekomon? He’s supposed to be the protector of this place? And what about the village guard?”

Otamamon’s silent expression was all the answer they needed. They weren’t around anymore either - that seemed to be a theme of present. Ryo folded his arms, “Orochimon’s going to be tough. If I remember, he’s an Ultimate and with Monodramon back to rookie, we’re in serious trouble.”

“But we have Calumon now!” Kazu pointed at the little digimon still playing with the digignomes. Otamamon stared at the little digimon and said only, “Are you sure that’s a good thing? Orochimon would probably think he’s a toy.”

That announcement caught Calumon’s attention and the little digimon stopped his excited staring to see what was going on. Terriermon patted the little guy’s head, “I wouldn’t underestimate Calumon. He’s a lot stronger than he looks.”

The Otamamon eyed him skeptically, “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Another loud roar got their attention and the digimon gasped, scurrying over to the beach to help put the alcohol into the giant tub. Once they completed their tasks, the digimon retreated back into their houses. One of the Gekomon shouted as they ran past, “What are you doing? Hide! If Orochimon sees you, he’ll eat you for bothering his drinking time! You have to hide! Now!”

Everyone followed the little Gekomon into one of the nearby houses. Rika wasn’t normally one to run and hide but the Digital World had made her more cautious. She didn’t know anything about this Orochimon and didn’t want to walk head first into a blood bath without knowing what they were up against. 

“Rika!” her partner shouted out. Rika looked back at Renamon and saw her pointing to Leomon running for Juri, Tamerkato, and Guilmon. All three of them were still standing on the water’s edge as if they hadn’t heard the noise echoing out from the distance. To make matters worse, there was movement in the water. A lot of movement. The ocean looked ready to come alive as the surface shook. And they were acting like nothing was wrong. Rika groaned, “You have got to be kidding me!”

…

“JURI!” Leomon roared. Juri turned away from Tamerkato and saw her lion partner running towards her with his arms in the air. He was shouting something but it was difficult to make out over the very loud rumbling she could hear from behind her. She tried cupping her ears and shouting, “What!?”

“RUN!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. He said something else but it was drowned out by another loud roar, followed by a large shadow appearing behind her. She turned around and saw a large serpent emerging out of the water. A panicked Takato ran back to shore beside her and Guilmon, standing in front of her just as another serpent head emerged from the water. Then another. Until finally an eight headed serpent was staring them down with all sixteen of its eyes. The closest head hissed, “Who are you? Why are you interrupting my drink time?”

Guilmon growled at the digimon angrily, presenting all of its claws. Juri froze in panic, mind racing for words that seemed just out of reach. She was glad Tamerkato was here to quickly put together, “Hello! I’m Takato! This is Guilmon! That’s Juri! That guy running late is Leomon! We’re here to serve you your drinks and make sure you’re taken care of!”

Another head came in closer to get a good look at them, “We don’t need to be taken care of. Go away. I want to enjoy my drink.”

“Our drink,” another head said. The two heads turned at each other, hissing until the largest head roared at them both, “No fighting! We drink now! Leave before we take some hors d'oeuvres with our food!”

Juri wanted to run now but Tamerkato kept talking, “Oh come on, Orochimon! You don’t want to do that! Who’ll stop you from choking on your tongue while you’re passed out drunk? Or worse! What if you choke on your vomit! Admit it, you need someone to take care of you!”

The serpent stared at them with one of their eyes. The pupil moved from one person to another curiously, judging them carefully before one head finally hissed, “That might not be a bad idea. You can stay. But try anything and we will eat you!”

“Don’t worry! We’ll be here to give you pillows and all the care you need while you sleep it off!” Tamerkato gave a thumbs up. Each head took a tub in its mouth and guzzled them all down. While the serpent chugged, Juri leaned over to Tamerkato and whispered, “What are you doing?”

He whispered back, “No idea. I wasn’t expecting Orochimon to just show up. I panicked! Sorry to drag you into this. Just roll with it.”

The first tub fell back to the beach, followed by another and another. Each head let out a loud burp that filled the air with the noxious smell of alcohol and Juri covered her nose to drown out the smell. The Digimon Tamer waved the air, while Guilmon nearly passed out from the smell - staying upright only because Leomon caught him. Leomon covered his mouth to stop himself from throwing up - finally relaxing once Orochimon finished burping. The serpents turned their heads towards them, lowing four of their heads while the lead declared, “Come with us. We sleep off the drink on our island.”

Juri felt her heart sink and looked to Tamerkato to get them out of this. The boy thought quickly and responded with, “Is that a good idea? You just had a hearty drink! It’d probably be better if you stayed here. It’s a bad idea to swim after a drink! You should probably have something to ea...I mean...sleep it off here.”

“Get on or I’ll eat you now,” the serpent hissed. Tamerkato offered her an apologetic look and mouthed a sorry before climbing aboard the snake’s head first. Juri felt a lump in her throat choking her but managed to climb onto its head without passing out. She felt her head spin as Orochimon raised his head into the air and she latched on to keep herself from falling. Guilmon and Leomon followed their lead, climbing onto the head and holding on for dear life as the serpent turned back to the ocean. The lead head said, “Hold tight. I don’t swim straight after a drink.”

Juri held tighter, seeing Takato mouth another apology before they sailed off.  She closed her eyes shut just as the first bob happened and she was sure she’d fall off. 

...

Rika stopped just short of the water’s edge, kicking the sand in frustration as Orochimon shrank into the horizon. He was leaving and they had to catch up soon if they didn’t want to lose the others again. She groaned, “You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

Ryo folded his arms and smugly said, “See what I mean? He does that and there’s nothing we can about it. We better hope he doesn’t leave us behind. Wouldn’t be the first time, though.”

“Do you think they’ll be alright?” Renamon asked her, staring off as the serpent turned into a speck before disappearing over the horizon. It didn’t take Rika any time to think of the answer, “Nope. Leomon’s good but Juri doesn’t have much experience in fights. As for Taka...Tamer...Tamerkato! He and Guilmon are crazy. Who knows what they’re going to do next.”

“We should definitely go after him,” Henry folded his arms and looked down at his partner, “You mind carrying a handful of people?”

“Sure! I was wondering when we would try out those cards Shibumi gave us!” Terriermon said excitedly. Kazu and Kenta finally caught up, both out of breath and being carried in the arms of Guardromon. Henry produced a set of cards from his pocket and started handing them out, nudging the out of breath Kazu to get his attention. The boy asked, “The crap is this?”

Henry explained as he prepared to swipe, “One of the cards Shibumi gave me. They give our digimon a temporary energy boost that allows them to digivolve. Swipe the blue one to digivolve one level, the red ones to digivolve two levels. DigiModify! Digivolution Activate!”

There was a bright flash of light as Terriermon cried out, “Terriermon! Warp Digivolve to! Rapidmon!”

Rika looked down at the red card in her hand and realizing that she had all this power at the tip of her fingers. She readied to swipe it when she saw Ryo about to do the same, and quickly knocked it out of his hands, “Don’t!”

“What gives, Rika?” he asked like he’d been slapped in the face. She was surprised Ryo hadn’t considered what was wrong and pointed at Monodramon just a few steps behind him, “He’s still attacking everything he sees which means you’ve still got pent up anger issues! Do you really want him to digivolve to something other than rookie?”

“I’ve been on my best behavior!” the little digimon huffed, showing off big watery eyes in a bid for sympathy. All of that went away and he hissed when Rapidmon commented, “That was only because Orochimon actually scared you! That was the quietest you’ve been in a while!”

“So what do we do now?” Ryo asked, “We can’t just sit here and do nothing, and I’ll be damned before I let Tamer abandon us in another part of the Digital World!”

Rika scooped up the card before he could take it back up, “Don’t worry. I won’t let him. Besides, someone’s gotta protect Calumon over there in case more of those Devas come looking for him. Henry, Rapidmon, Renamon and I will go after them. You guys wait here. Deal?”

“What!? I don’t want to be stuck on babysitting duty!” Kazu complained loudly, prompting Kenta to smack the back of his head. 

Ryo looked at her quietly for the longest time, almost like he was examining her. It creeper her out until he nodded and agreed, “Alright. I trust you.”

Hearing those words made her blood rush with excitement and she excitedly turned to her partner, red card in hand, “Ready partner? Digimodify! Digivolution Activate!”

“Renamon! Warp-Digivolve to! Taomon!” her partner shouted, appearing in her long flowing robes and holding her massive brush in her hands. She scooped Rika up and took to the air, Rapidmon following just behind with Henry. They didn’t have a moment to lose if they were going to save Juri or the others. But her focus was distracted by what Ryo said, his words echoing in her mind. But it was soon forgotten when Rapidmon added, “Hey, Rika! You’re redder than the red card!”

...

Juri leapt off the serpent’s head and watched the creature slither off into a large mound on the ground. It curled in on itself, coiling its body around its many heads to keep warm, “You are only to care for us. Try anything and we will eat you.”

“Right, rest well Orochimon! We’ll keep you from choking on your own vomit,” Takato waved, hurrying to join her, “Sorry again, Juri. I panicked but we’ll get out of this! Somehow.”

“Well you’d better think of something,” Leomon looked around nervously, “I don’t know how to swim and we’re miles from land. I don’t suppose Guilmon can fly when he digivolves?”

“His breath stinks,” the dinosaur mumbled just as Orochimon burped so loudly that she was sure he was going to break the island apart with the sheer force of it. Then the smell came and Juri covered her nose in disgust. Leomon followed suit, pushing Juri behind him to try and block some of it, “By the Guardians, that smell is horrendous. It’s like a million Numemon climbed in his gullet and died!”

“Three-hundred and twenty-eight,” one of Orochimon’s many heads answered, one of its eyes open so that it could look at them, “They thought they could poison me from the inside and make me sick. They didn’t think their plan through. Then again, they’re about as smart as they are beautiful. Can’t blame them after what I did to ShogunGekomon. Fat bastard had it coming anyway. More important, keep your mouths shut if you don’t want me to eat you.”

“Sorry,” Tamerkato put his hands together apologetically, “We’re new so we didn’t know. But what happened to ShogunGekomon?”

“I’m a snake. He’s a toad. Nature took its course,” the head answered, “Now shut up.”

It hissed that last part, preventing Tamerkato from prodding it with anymore questions. Satisfied, the eye closed and the serpent quietly returned back to dozing. They all waited in silence for the longest time, waiting for a sign to make sure the serpent actually was asleep. Ten minutes later, one of the heads was snoring and they all breathed a sigh of relief. Leomon asked at a hushed whisper, leaning in so they could hear him, “So what now?”

“Outlived another one,” Tamerkato whispered back, shaking his head and scratching his hair, “Okay. Options. We could attack. But we have two digimon and he has eight heads so you’d only manage to startle him before he eats us all. We could actually do the care taker part but he’ll probably eat us over the course of however long we’re here. There are plenty of trees which gives us plenty of hiding spots. Eight heads means he can search more so...so...”

“Tamer, do you have an idea or don’t you?” Leomon asked quietly. Juri knew he didn’t. He could tell by that look in his eye - the same look he had when he was told WarGreymon was dead. Something was eating at him - possibly ShogunGekomon. But what did outlived another one mean? She wanted to ask, but the idea of knowing another of his secrets filled her dread. Why did he keep so many? And what else was there? He’d promised that he wouldn’t keep so many. So how many more things did they not know? Before she could ask, Takato stepped away and started pacing. He examined each of the heads carefully as he walked, “Why does it have eight heads?”

She gave the rest of the serpentine digimon another closer look. All eight heads were nestled in on themselves so that it could sleep off the alcohol. But what did that have to do with the eight heads? It was funny. It made her think of the hydra myth they’d learned in classical literature. It was such an odd story to think about. Tamerkato looked at Leomon, “How quickly do you think can slice through each head?”

“What?” Juri and Leomon answered in unison. Tamerkato pointed at the serpent, “We’ll need to dispatch each head fast because as soon as the first one comes off, he’ll wake up. They’ll wake up. Whatever. Juri, use your digivice to give Leomon a speed and strength boost. As soon as she does, start going for the heads Leomon. Oh, and Juri.”

He went through his deck quickly and handed her a card, “Use this. It’ll help.”

She looked down and saw it said WarGreymon’s Brave Shield in big letters on top. She knew this card from the few times Tamerkato used it. She understood why he wanted her to use the card but not the sudden reversal on attacking Orochimon. He seemed keen to avoid a fight earlier. So why now? 

“What are we doing?” she asked nervously, fearful of his answer. 

“Letting nature take its course. On your mark,” he replied coldly. She nodded nervously, readying the cards she’d been given along with some cards she knew would help. Tamerkato did the same and they swiped their cards together, “DigiModify!”

“Strength Boost Activate! Speed Boost Activate! WarGreymon’s Brave Shield Activate!”

“Digivolution Activate!” 

Their digimon partners glowed with light as they took strength from their digivices. Juri worried the burst of light would awake the giant serpent. It didn’t. What did was Guilmon’s cry, “Guilmon! Digivolve to! Growlmon!”

The first head looked up to examine the noise just as Leomon leapt upon it and sliced it off with a swing of his sword. The remaining seven heads jolted awake, screeching in pain and turning their attention on Leomon. The lion spun his blade in his hand so that he held it in reverse and leapt forward at the next head, cleaving it off before the others had any time to react. Now they were mad and began flying at Leomon. But he easily stayed just one step ahead, dodging through the strikes with his augmented speed. Not that he needed it. The serpent heads were still slowed from their drinking and couldn’t quite keep up with Leomon. 

“Bastards! I’ll kill you!” one of the heads hissed in anger. As the fight dragged on, Juri noticed Tamerkato keeping Growlmon from jumping into the fight despite the growling noises he made. He obviously wanted to help and didn’t like being kept back. Until she considered Tamerkato’s emotional state. Growlmon didn’t want to help. He just wanted to attack. And he was only restrained because of Tamerkato.

She asked, “What are you doing?”

“Waiting,” he answered quietly. Waiting for what? As she thought about it, she noticed one of neck stumps writhing as something began convulsing out. It slid out with a sickening splat as a new head appeared. The head leered at Leomon, “You messed up, Leomon.”

“Now,” Tamerkato pointed at the head. Now Growlmon leapt in and cut the head off with his claws, causing the serpent to hiss in pain. Tamerkato called out, “Now burn the neck stump, Growlmon!”

“Pyro Blaster!” he roared, spewing out a ball of red fire at the neck stump. The serpent roared even louder and writhed in agony as its flesh burned and the open neck stump was cauterized shut. The attack was so vicious that Juri covered her mouth in shock. Sure, this was just like the myth she’d read about, she’d never once thought about how gruesome it was. Even for him, this was something else. It was...cruel. Then he called out, “Okay! Leomon! Cut off the heads! Growlmon! Burn them!”

“Juri?” Leomon looked over his shoulder at her. She looked from Tamerkato to the writhing serpent, hesitating for a moment before nodding in agreement, “Do it.” 

The lion nodded hesitantly before leaping back into the fight, leaping between the heads and slicing them off when an opening presented itself. One, then another. Every time he cut a head off, Growlmon would burn the neck stump shut so that it couldn’t escape. Any time Leomon couldn’t dodge an attack, he used the brave shield to block the teeth and protect himself from being eaten. This continued back and forth with the two digimon working together until there was only one head left. The main head. 

It leered at them angrily, “HOW DARE YOU! YOU ATTACK ME WHILE I SLEEP!?”

“You killed ShogunGekomon,” Tamerkato answered quietly, a glare on his face that she had never seen before. The serpent hissed, “And now I’LL KILL YOU!”

The last head leapt at him in a suicidal maneuver, completely ignoring Leomon who leapt up and sliced his head clean off. Then Growlmon jumped on it and cauterized the wound with his fire before the head could regrow. Once all the heads were off, the serpent fell still on the ground - before dispersing into data that both Growlmon and Leomon absorbed. All the while, Tamerkato stared at the remains with the coldest expression she’d ever seen - a kind of malicious look. Then it vanished, replaced with hurt. A sad and longing look that he had when they first came to the Digital World. The same one when they were at the house under the lake. She reached out to him quietly, “Tamer? Takato?”

“I’m fine,” he answered, pocketing his hands and turning away, “We should figure out how to get off this island. Maybe we could make a raft?”

“JURI!”

“GROWLMON!”

Everyone looked up to see Rapidmon and Taomon flying their way. The two digimon descended on the island, dropping off Rika and Henry who scanned the island for the serpent. Rika asked first, “Where’s Orochimon?”

“We took care of it,” Tamerkato answered matter of factly, continuing towards Taomon, “Get us out of here. I want to go back to the village.”

Miffed at being a commanded like that, Rika snapped, “Don’t boss me aro-”

“I’m not in the mood for your mood, Rika,” Tamerkato cut her off angrily, the malicious look in his eye returning in full force. For once, Rika cowed fearfully and nodded. Once Tamerkato was out of ear shot, Rika whispered, “What’s with him?”

“I don’t know,” she answered sheepishly.

[dehvastation]

Stealing Time (With @MismatchedFreak)

Dehv: ~ I jumped off the floor and threw my weapon back on the table with the others. I laughed when Davidson started babbling about how amped up his was after the fight. We worked well together, Nhick was equally as cunning as Davidson, but between us we were able to push the other. We knew each other well, and could anticipate a move before it was taken. I knew it wouldn’t be the same with everyone, but the practice I had on them, on watching what happened when they did something I was expecting was good to then try on others. Though in some cases it meant I got a faceful of fist. I nudged against Davidson and then felt Nhick’s arm go around my shoulder as he did the same to Davidson and squashed in between us, “You both stink, OF VICTORY.” I laughed, and felt Davidson do the same beside me, “Shut up, we stick like sweat and need a shower.” The nodding from all the trainees was enough to get us moving, and I made my way quickly to the locker room. I was nervous and excited about meeting Qhuinn in his office, and I wanted to rush through everything, but I knew that I also needed to put on appearances while we were still in lesson time so that I wasn’t going to piss anyone off. I stripped my gym clothes off and stuffed them in my bag so they were ready to wash when I got home, then I grabbed my wash bag and quickly made my way towards the shower. I smiled widely when I saw Davidson shove at Nhick when he tried to pull him into the same cubicle with him, wondering how long it’d take the two of them to admit to us all that they were together. I pretended I hadn’t seen and then closed the door to the small space, humming softly as the hot water washed over the aches of the session. My lip stung from the blow Jhasper had put in, and my knee was already starting to colour. I knew it’d be gone by morning, especially if I fed, but it was still annoying to have it there for seeing Qhuinn. I made quick work of washing and then stepped out, grabbing one of the lovely fluffy bath towels that was always there for us after a session. I knotted it quickly and started to put away my shower pack before grabbing dry clothing. I looked around and spotted Davidson and Nhick snickering in the corner, “What’s up with you two?” I started to dry myself off and throw on my clothes, my gaze staying focused on my friends. They both grinned like children and then crowded me to whisper, “Why are you still here? You should have had the worlds fastest shower and just gone out in the towel. After, how long as it been??? You won’t be dressed for long once that office door shuts. Right, Nhick?” I felt my skin get hot and I tugged my shirt down before running my fingers through my hair to pull it away from my face, “Both of you, stop it. I’ll see you later.” I heard them laughing as I closed the door and practically left a fire trail as I made my way to the office, both whistling as their heads popped out of the door. I knew I was blushing harder than I should be, but I knocked on the door anyway and then stuck my head in the gap as I opened it, “Is it ok to come in?” ~

Qhuinn: [I dropped the tests into the scanner thing that would feed them into the system and punched the few codes in that brought up the digital voice recorder, leaving a few notes about the class as I stripped myself down. The rest could wait but I wanted to make sure to cover the basics at least. I’d come this far and didn’t want to fuck it all up at the finish line by being sloppy.  Once I had finished. I turned off the system and hopped in the shower, scrubbing away the stink of gym and the trainees. I didn’t waste much time though. Hell, the water barely heated up before I was rinsing off and hopping right back out to dry off. I had plans and I while I wouldn’t have minded if he caught me in the shower, I would prefer for that to happen when there wasn’t a room full of trainees still muddling about. Though I knew it was going to get out soon enough, and I honestly couldn’t wait. We proved we could handle ourselves. He didn’t get any preferential treatment, not from me or any of the other trainers. Any one that did have a problem with it could deal with me. I was tired of hiding and tired of having to. I think that’s why Rhage had helped with tonight and why the females had done all they could to make tonight happen as well. I picked up the phone to see if Fritz was ready with the food and found out he was already sending it down. Fucking loved that doggen, I swear. I hung up the phone and dug my clothes out of the locker. I tugged on a fresh pair of button fly jeans and just worked the top button when I heard the knock to the door. I expected a doggen but when Dehv popped his head in, my smile widened. I kept my feet planted where they were so I didn’t make a scene and nodded slowly.] Yeah, come on in, I’m just about ready. Close the door behind you.

Dehv: ~ I grinned the minute I heard Qhuinn’s voice, I took one step into the room and reached my hand for the male who was within grabbing distance when I heard my name being yelled. I growled low, but didn’t stop my forward step, sliding my fingers down Qhuinn’s forearm to grip his wrist before I turned to pop my head out of the door to face Nhick and Davidson. Their grinning faces showed me they knew exactly what they were doing, and I wondered if it was partly payback for Qhuinn scaring the shit out of D in the gym, “What?” I didn’t bother hiding my amusement while also the slight edge that told them I’d find it funny for about 3 minutes and then I’d get pissed as hell. They both smirked at me, and I lay my head against the edge of the door, still holding onto Qhuinn’s wrist. I knew they could see Qhuinn, and I didn’t care, I squeezed the warmth under my fingers and then used my thumb to brush a slow rhythm against the pulse point there. I didn’t speak again, instead waiting on one of the damn chuckle brothers to decide they were going to speak, which Nhick did a heartbeat later, “We’ve got three free hours, we’ve been invited into the main gym to have food with some of the Brothers. I wanted to let you know in case you, um, you two wanted to join at some point. They’ve hinted that Wrath and Beth might be there, and the warriors will be less ‘mentor’ and more relaxed. Should be fun, maybe see another side of them? I know you’re……” he paused and looked past me towards Qhuinn before lowering his voice, Davidson look the time to glance around the hall to ensure we were alone, “of that bloodline, so probably have seen them like that, but were were more excited than we wanted to let on, and thought we’d at least invite you.” I felt my grin widen and I looked back at Qhuinn, assuming he knew my bloodline, not remembering if we’d spoken about it over the months we’d been stuck texting and facetiming each other. I slid my fingers down his wrist to link my fingers with his, squeezing and then using my hold to tug him a little closer. I let my gaze slide over him and then back to his face, knowing I was an open book at most things when I wanted to be. I waited a heartbeat before turning to my friends, “It sounds fun, but I’ll skip it this time. If we get hungry I’ll come and grab some food. But I’m not passing up this opportunity to see Qhuinn after months of being jerked around by those who share a bloodline. Thanks again for the invite though, I love that you’re excited, and I want to hear all about it once you’re done and we’re back in the training room.” I watched them both grin and then nod before turning to make their way back down the corridor that they’d come. I didn’t bother watching them make it to the end before I closed the door and then leaned back against it, fingers still entwined with Qhuinn’s, “Door is closed. What now?” ~

Qhuinn: [My growl echoed Dehv’s but I felt the world click into place when his fingers slid down my arm and wrap around my wrist. Silently, I was planning all kinds of extra torture for tweedle dee and tweedle dum since the amusement in their voices told me they knew exactly what they were interrupting. I barely hid back the snicker at what had their panties in a bunch. After all this time, you’d think they’d be running the other way the moment they had some free time, not going right back into the lions den. Maybe I was just too jaded. I stepped closer when Dehv gave my fingers a tug, my face giving nothing away as I looked at Davidson and Nhick over his shoulder, though my heart did another stupid tumble at that smile on his face.  Even with his bloodline, I had a feeling he spent enough time with them, or at least I was hoping he felt he had. I really was not in the mood to share him right now. Though it still made me glad he didn’t have to bear that alone. That was another thing I worried about that might get him shit from other trainees. My eyes locked on his for that brief moment and I saw his answer there and finally felt my lips twitch in a small smile before he turned back to the duo in the doorway. I gave his fingers another squeeze and nodded to the two as they stepped back, my shirt dropping from my other hand the moment the door closed and I stepped closer to Dehv, lifting our joined hands to press against the door above his shoulder. I tipped my head to ghost my lips over his as a smile teased my lips while I pressed my body against his] hmmm, and hello to you too. I suppose I could take you to the gym so you could play with your friends if you really wanted, or we could wait for the dinner that’s on it’s way for us and get the fuck out of here to someplace nice and quiet where we won’t be disturbed for a few hours?

Dehv: ~ I grinned when the shirt was dropped. Glad that Davidson and Nhick were excited, but barely giving them a second thought now that the door was closed. I felt my heart jump the minute he stepped closer, my grin growing with each second. I didn’t fight the hold, the pressure of his hand against mine made me groan softly. I had missed being close to him, and we’d barely managed much before we’d been pulled apart for 6 months. The odd moments here and there meant that we really savoured each and every second, despite the niggle at the back of my mind that told me that any minute one of the brothers was likely to bust in and steal one of us away. It was hard to shake, and I felt myself tense up slightly, even as I felt the kisses and reassuring pressure from his body so close to mine. I grinned, my eyes lifting to meet his when he started giving me options, that allowing my muscles to ease once more. I left him to run through my options, and then I schooled my features. Eyes lifting to the ceiling so I could keep a straight face and think on it, “Well, that dinner with my friends sounds so very inviting. Surrounded by other trainees, you being mobbed for advice and thoughts and date invites.” I ran my tongue over my bottom lip, using the movement to hide the twitch of my lips before I lowered my eyes again. The throat clearing wasn’t faked, I loved looking at the male in front of me, his mismatched eyes always far more expressive than I think he would be comfortable knowing. He wanted everyone to think he was a badass, and he was, but not in a mean or horrible way. He’d throw himself in front of pretty much anything to save someone else, even if it meant he’d die. I knew that hard shell he carried around himself though, I’d seen it on most the Brothers. It reminded me often how lucky I was that life hadn’t started to get complicated until recently. I still had a wall around me, but that was mostly due to having to break ties in the human world when things started getting complicated around my lack of aging. I spoke slowly as I used my free arm to curl it around Qhuinn’s waist, returning each of those teasing kisses with some of my own, “How hungry are you? I don’t want to mess up your plans if you’ve got dinner coming soon, we’ve time to eat and still get out of here for a bit. But if you think we’re likely going to get jumped by one of the Brothers and sent to run errands, lets skive off and go to somewhere they won’t think to look for us.” I nodded and shifted slightly against the wall of muscle that was pinning me to the door frame. Knowing it should short circuit his brain the same as it did mine, and not really caring one little bit. ~

Qhuinn: [A little growl slipped out before I could stop it at his teasing. I think if I had to wait one more night for a block of alone time with him, I would hurt someone. I wouldn’t even care that it would earn me more punishment down the damn line. I pressed closer to him, letting him feel the full weight of my body as he teased. I nipped his bottom lip and gave another low growl as he shifted his body, sending that spark of desire coursing through me and frying out my thoughts for a moment. After a tug of his lower lip I lifted my head, cocking it slightly as I listened] That should be Fritz or one of the doggen with our food. I had them pack it up for us to take on the run. I figured we’d have a better chance at privacy if we managed to actually leave the building at least. And if they are distracted with the trainees, that’s even better for us.

[It was still damn tempting though, with him pinned to the wall, to say fuck the food and everything else and just lock ourselves away right here. I knew that wouldn’t work. They would find us. They always fucking found us. I gave his fingers a squeeze as I stole one more kiss just as a knock came to the other door. I stepped back and picked up my shirt, pulling the black tee over my head as I crossed the office. Once the door opened, I could smell the food that had been prepared and my stomach grumbled appreciatively. I thanked Fritz and told him I owed him then closed the door and turned back to my male, holding up the basket filled with our dinner] Now, we can eat out by the stream at the back of the grounds, or you can come back to my place, we’ll deadbolt the doors and hide from the world for a bit. Your choice.

Dehv: ~ I managed to chuckle to cover up my own growl when I felt Qhuinn’s weight press me back against the door. I was happy to lock the thing right then and there and put a fucking sock on the handle if needs be. I wasn’t able to suppress the groan when his teeth scraped over my bottom lip, causing me to grin so wide I was sure I looked like some kind of creepy perv. Not that I cared, he was committed now, no getting away no matter how weird I got. I glanced at the door when I heard the footsteps approaching. “That sounds like a good idea. Saves us both from spending time cooking, or having to go out to eat. Good thinking.” I hummed with a nod as I thought on where we might go to eat and hide away from everyone. I had a couple of check ins with clients to do first thing in the morning, which gave me time normally to get home and change from training, take the calls, and then spend the day in bed. I returned the kiss, as quick as it was, and pushed away from the wall so that Qhuinn could get to the door. I was not impressed the shirt went back on, but I knew Fritz wouldn’t appreciate it as much as I did. I huffed even though I knew it was childish, then grinned and turned to pop my head over the top of Qhuinn’s shoulder. I nodded in thanks to Fritz right along with Qhuinn, and then groaned when the smell of the food hit me. “What the hell did you order?” I groaned again and felt my stomach pipe up right along with me, “I want to say yours, but I might end up eating in your car. Since you’re driving, did I say that already? No. Hurry up.” I grinned and reached around Qhuinn to open the door again. I placed a less than gentle kiss on his face and then fisted a hand in his shirt to pull him right along the corridor with me. “I hope you’ve got your keys with you, because as much as I want to get you out of those clothes, whatever is in that bag is taking my full attention. Which you knew would happen when you ordered it.” I nodded and then stopped, holding my breath while the last of the stragglers left to go to their first meal with the Brothers. If they saw me, I’d get a million questions about why I wasn’t joining, and I wasn’t having that. “You did drive right? I just realised you may have dematted here. And we can’t do that with dinner. Eat then to yours, NO no, mine. We have to go to mine. In case we don’t make it back for class. I have clients after the sun has come up.” I turned without moving away from the wall to face Qhuinn, a sheepish grin on my face. “Sorry, brain died when the food arrived. ~

Qhuinn: [I knew my plan was a hit when I got the less than gentle kiss and then found myself being dragged down the hallway. I felt like a spy with the way we were ducking back into cubbies to avoid being seen by the other trainees, though I knew why. Neither of us wanted to be caught. Not now. Not after so fucking long of not having any damn time for ourselves and finally making it happen. My grin was wide on my face regardless. He was going about a mile a minute, which amused me to no end. It was a side of him I rarely got to see lately. When he turned to face me, I chuckled softly and then braced an arm over his shoulder as I pinned him to the wall] Good thing I got us loads of food then. I figured you’d need it after class.  To answer your question. I didn’t drive, but I’ve got permission to take one of the cars in the garage. We’ve got steak sandwiches, chips, some kebab things, and a few desserts if Fritz hooked us up like he said he would, and we’ll go back to my place as I’ve got it set up for us. I promise to have you home in time for your meetings. I don’t want you thinking about work or anything else for the next few hours. Got it?

[I didn’t wait for him to answer before I hooked my arm around his waist and led him down the halls, ducking through one of the secret passage ways the Brothers used to avoid detection as we headed towards the garage where they kept all their toys. I walked to the keybox and punched in the code, then popped it open. I eyed the various keys before finding the set I wanted. Once the keys for the midnight blue challenger where in my hands, I led us to the pristine classic muscle car and unlocked the doors. I set the basket in the middle of the front seat and gave Dehv a heated look before I slid behind the wheel] And don’t worry about eating everything, I’m sure I can find /something/ else to nibble on once we get where we’re going

Dehv: ~ I blinked and then moved with Qhuinn as he took me a way through the training centre I’d never been. I loved that he knew all these weird little alley ways. I followed on as we got to the garage, the place I assumed was where our cars would go if we ever had to stay during the day. I assumed anyway. I figured the Doggen cleaned and kept these sparkly clean. It made me laugh to think on the brothers out here on a weekend cleaning their prides and joy though. That image was one I’d enjoy carrying and passing onto the other trainees. Just to ensure the training never got too much or on top of anyone. Sometimes the fun images of things was better than nothing. I arched a brow at the car Qhuinn chose, not that I was complaining. It looked amazing. I was about to get into the car when I realised the variety of cars in the place, and some weird coffins in the back. I frowned at them and then turned back to Qhuinn as he slid in behind the drivers side. I was going to ask about it when I heard him say about getting me home before the sun came up. I pulled open the door and plopped myself in the passenger side, “I’m happy to go to yours and I can demat home before the sun comes up. Or, and it’s up to you, we can go to mine and not worry about one of us leaving the other. I can sort out my clients first thing in the morning, and then I can come back to bed. Though I know you might have duties here in the day, so you’re on a schedule. Once I finished the session we’re currently missing, I’m done for the night. I know you might not be.” I smiled and reached over to squeeze Qhuinn’s hand as I watched him get the engine going and the car warmed. I reached out to click on the radio and almost jumped a mile high when music blasted out on the highest setting possible. “Holy shit, whose car is this?” I spun the button to turn it back down to a normal level and watched as the training centre moved past us. We cleared the gates and I laughed suddenly, “This has to be the first time in 6 months we’ve managed to get away without someone stopping us. I’m touching wood that this carries on in our favour.” I grinned and tapped the top of my thigh, figuring after Qhuinn’s nibbling comment he’d get my meaning. “I’m easy either way. Right now I just want to eat what’s in this basket between us. It’s literally making me drool.” ~

Qhuinn: We’ll figure it out when the time comes. I kinda have the place set up for this though….[I grinned sheepishly at him and then cringed hard when he blasted the radio. I shouldn’t be surprised, most of the Brothers liked their music loud as fuck, it helped drown out the bullshit of the nights. I laughed and shook my head as I tore out of the garage and down the drive, through the mise to the main highway] It’s a spare, they keep a few around for times when they’re needed. Occasionally the Brothers have had to leave their cars places and demat here and there, so it helps to have extra cars around.

[I narrowed my eyes over at Dehv, then doubly so when I watched his fingers along his thigh before I forced my eyes back on the road, a low growl building on my throat. I settled my hand over his] You better not have jinxed us with that…and hopefully you’re only easy for me.

[I grinned and flashed him another wink as I hit the gas and headed towards my little house on the edge of town. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for now.  And I really really hoped he hadn’t jinxed us. The way our luck had run over the past six months I wouldn’t count us out of the woods yet, but I was hopefully. So fucking hopeful. All I wanted was a few damn hours of quiet with him. Ten minutes down the road and I was turning up the short gravel drive. I pulled alongside the Hummer and then killed the engine before hopping out and grabbing the basket.] Give me one minute, then you can come in.

[I ran, fucking ran my ass off, unlocking the door and then getting things set up. I hadn’t lied when I said I had things prepared in hopes of this evening. I just hoped he wouldn’t find it corny. I kicked off my boots at the doorway and then moved quick around the room, thankful most was set up already. Gem and Talia had told me this was romantic, even Wraith agreed and said it sounded like a cool idea. I hit the little switches to light the fake candles lining the floor, lighting up the pillows set up on the floor under the big blanket tied up in the middle of the room. All the furniture….ok, so the couch and the two dollar coffee table had been pushed to the side to make the room, and we would be having an indoor picnic. The blanket was dark enough to block the lights from the windows should anyone peep by, which was another plus for this idea. I set the food out in the center of the pillow clearing, then, just because I was hot and no other reason at all, peeled off the tee shirt before I sat down and waited….oh so not patiently for Dehv]

Dehv: ~ I laughed at the slightly jealous sounding words about me only being easy for him. I knew he wasn’t serious, but it made me laugh anyway. “I’m fairly easy for a lot of people, but none of them in the same way as you if that helps.” I threw a wink at Qhuinn and then settled back into the car. The drive was relaxing as we wound our way through the city. I always wondered how much effort it took whoever kept up the mhis at the mansion. I was still learning one hell of a lot about my own species, and the more I learned, the more I was proud to be fighting in their corner. So far I’d not embarrassed myself in front of Qhuinn, but I was sure it was coming. Not that I minded, I knew he’d support me to learn about things, and would just be happy I was teasing him.

I nodded my agreement to his explanation and nodded at the bag I had from my locker, “I’ve got my computer, I guess push comes to shove I can do the consult at your place if you’ve got wifi and I can then stay there. I won’t have the notes, but I can have them emailed over before the meeting if I need to.” I felt the uncertainty in my chest ease up a little at the thought that I didn’t have to rush off anyway. If we were still in one of our places come the time the sun rose, we were basically guaranteed a full day together. It was exciting to think on and I found myself breathing a little easier as we pulled up into Qhuinn’s drive. I put my hand on the leaver to open the door when I was issued my instructions. I chuckled but settled back into my seat and nodded.

I watched Qhuinn run into his house and then licked a boot up on the dash. I pulled my phone from my pocket and grinned when I saw that I’d got photos and messages from Davidson and Nhick. I knew they were at dinner, so I was impressed they’d taken time out of that exciting little experience. The first message was a sneak picture of Rhage eating. The next was a little surprised face, right along with a picture of Wrath sitting at the head of the table. I snorted and shook my head. The ones after that were obviously of him having been caught, and then a whole bunch of selfies from the various brothers. Most of them anyway, Zsadist looked more like someone had stuck a camera in his face and he was about to murder them. That one made me laugh out loud. I sent back a picture of myself in the car and then a second of me pulling a stupid face along with a quick message to say that I was at Qhuinn’s and I’d see them at training the following night.

I checked the time and I’d managed to blast through about five minutes, surely that was enough time? I pushed out the car and grabbed my bag from the back, looping the strap over my head so I had my hands free. I had my phone up so I could take a photograph of what Qhuinn had done for our evening and show the two of them. But as I pushed through the door I let my hand drop as my mouth opened. I arched a teasing brow and slid my phone into my back pocket so I could look around. The candles flickering on the floor and the way Qhuinn sat quietly on the blanket and pillows, it looked cozy and wanted to join him, “I think the shirt missing is cheating. Especially if you want me to eat something first. Now you’re making me choose between what smells great and what looks even better. Where do you want me?” I grinned widely and pulled off my bag to place it down by the counter on my way into the living room, my eyes never leaving my male. ~

Qhuinn: [I kicked my feet out in front of me and leaned back on my hands as I waited. Every passing second had my nerves bubbling up even though I knew he wouldn’t laugh. That wasn’t who he was. I also knew he wouldn’t run. That was all me. It still didn’t mean I couldn’t be nervous. This was practically our first real date. Unless you wanted to count a burger at a dive restaurant when I told him about the shit I went through or a trip through hell that landed both our asses in the hospital. And I really didn’t want to count those. I swore I could sense him the nearer he got to the door. I sat a little straighter, my senses on full alert. I watched the knob turn and held my breath as it swung open. My grin grew at his reaction and the moment I saw that phone slide into his pocket I knew I did okay with everything. I raised a brow right back] Are you saying you’d rather I put my shirt back on? I thought you’d enjoy a little show with your meal

[I wiggled my brows and then lifted a hand to crook a finger at him as I willed the door to lock behind him. I then patted the pillow next to me. A million responses to his question went through my mind but I knew if I gave the most honest, we’d never get to the food. And for what I had planned, food was definitely going to be needed.] I want you everywhere I can have you, you should know that by now. But first, we’ll eat and then, we’ll explore those other options.

Dehv: ~ I laughed at the question and shook my head. Instead of answering, I tugged off my coat to let it drop by my bag, and then started to move closer. I allowed my gaze to travel around the lights and pillows and Qhuinn’s home. We hadn’t managed to get away, and normally we went back to mine when we could get away, or just crashed at the training centre. It was rare we travelled this far away from the mansion in order to get time to ourselves, so I always found myself looking around, taking in all the things that made up Qhuinn. I tugged at my jumper and shirt, pulling them both over my head at the same time as I dropped to my knees on the blanket, my grin never leaving my face. “I do like a show with my food. As long as it doesn’t distract me. Some slave driver worked us hard in our session today, and I’m pretty hungry.” I winked and threw my clothes over to join my bag, tuggin my phone from my pocket so I didn’t sit on it and then settled my butt on one of the pillows. Once I was down, I started working on my shoes so I could get comfortable. “I am sure I will have thought of some extra options by the time we’ve eaten. But whatever you have in there, it smells delicious. Honestly. I’m used to getting the good food from Fritz, but I wasn’t expecting this from you.” I laughed and leaned closer to steal a kiss, knowing Qhuinn would probably laugh at his legendary inability to cook rather than clock me one.

Once I was satisfied with how comfortable we both were, relaxed in the warmth, I turned my attention to the food placed in front of me. I looked over the various meats, bread, cheese and hot food that spanned one of the blankets, and groaned in happiness. “Holy shit. I needed this right now. Thank you.” I grinned and grabbed a plate, filling it with a little of everything so I could move back and let Qhuinn get in to the food as well. I needed to keep my mind on the food, and off my male though, so I stuffed a bit of ham in my mouth before speaking, “So, did you see that I kicked ass with unconventional weaponry? Tell me honestly, has anyone ever gone for the fun weapons before? Because I think we kicked ass today. Minus the idiot who tried to main me, or the ones that tried to take you down. Excitement all around tonight. It’s a miracle we got out when we did.” ~

Qhuinn: [I didn’t think he’d tell me to put my shirt on but his answer was even better. I would never tire of watching my male strip down though now I actually got to appreciate it without having to do it in  discreetly. Nope, I got to ogle my male like I hadn’t in fuck knows how long. And ogle I did. I may have even let out a low growl too, but damn. When he finally joined me on the blanket and spoke, I threw my head back and laughed] Yeah, I hear your trainer is a real pain in the ass. Though with that class…

[I raised a brow and grinned wide] I’ll only mildly distract you while we eat. I had Fritz cook for us for a reason. I wanted you to actually survive this meal and we both know had I cooked, we’d end up at UGH more likely than not and I don’t know about you, but I’m damn tired of that place right about now.

[I gave a nod before leaning in to that kiss, grinning wide against Dehv’s lips. Twice…twice I’d tried to cook a quick something for us between classes in the small kitchen off the training center and twice I’d set off the sprinklers and set off the alarms. Cooking was not my forte. It was much safer to ask the doggen or to order take out. I could readily admit that one. I grabbed a plate after Dehv tucked in and filled it up, grateful the doggen knew to make plenty for two hungry ass males. I had just stuffed a large bite of a steak sandwich into my mouth when Dehv asked about his fight and nearly choked on the laughter that threatened. I chewed slowly as if truly contemplating how to answer, then took another bite as I watched him. It was one of the things that made him, Davidson and Nhick stand out from the others. They thought outside the box, nearly every time we had drills. I wasn’t sure whose influence that was either. It’s what we needed more of in the Brotherhood though. Which is partly why I was allowed to run my class as I did, slightly off the cuff of the others. If it proved successful, hopefully I’d get even more leeway next term. I finished off my sandwich and wiped my mouth all while watching my male, knowing my silence was likely testing his oh so non-existent patience and shrugged a shoulder as I hid my grin] Meh, you did alright.

[I couldn’t help it and I barely managed to get the words out before a snicker slipped out] Honestly, no, no one has ever gone for the fun weapons before. Most stick to what they know. What’s expected. As for those assclowns…it pisses me off status gets you certain leeway still. They shoulda been bounced ages ago, but nope, gotta have prove or the glymera gets all shitty about it.

Dehv: ~ I grinned and stuck another piece of cheese in my mouth, savouring the taste. I’d probably polish off the entire platter if I wasn’t so hooked on manners. They’d been drilled into me when I was trying to make an impression with the humans for all these years, while also trying to blend in. It wasn’t easy to do, since I had to move around often enough not to have my face recognised, or enough that I could pretend I was a cousin or doppelganger. That was always a fun story to run with over and over again. I’d often wondered how others of my kind managed it, I found out all about doggen and by then I’d found it far too weird to have someone else in my home. Though having someone own my home and allow that to just run seemed like a really good idea. I’d have to look into that, though it would be a hoop and a half to jump through to transfer all my assets to someone else. It wasn’t like it was just a house, I had an entire empire I had been running from behind the scenes for years. I grabbed another slice of ham, wrapping it around a cube of cheese then dipped it into some of the various dips on offer. The whole meal was relaxed and comfortable, and I was enjoying not having to shove the food in my face in minutes. I had been on edge for the last 6 months and it had caused me to put habits into my day to day life that I wasn’t impressed with. I now barely tasted my food, instead eating what was quick and easy to make, polish off and tidy so I was able to be on call with minutes notice. I realised I was really having to make an effort to slow down and actually enjoy the taste of the food, not to mention the eye candy of the company. I couldn’t ignore that. I kept my eyes on Qhuinn as he took his time answering me. The slight twitch in my foot the only indication I’d give him that my patience was running thin. He’d know that already, and the fact I couldn’t hide that from him would amuse him. When the answer eventually fell from his mouth, I was already throwing a square of cheese at him before the snicker slipped out. I laughed right along with him, watching the cheese bounce off his head while he continued to talk. I didn’t even try to hide my amusement, instead leaning over to grab the stray piece of cheese and eat it while I tramped down the growl at the thought of the idiots who had made class awkward the last few runs. “They should have been taken out a long ass time ago. But I am glad they fucked up this time. If it had been any other brother they might not have got off quite as lightly. I can imagine Z might have knocked them down with a bit more blood being spilled. They’ve got powerful families behind them though, so they might be back if they can be on their best behaviour. As for Jhasper, he needs to reign it in before I get properly pissed. I thought he’d blown out my knee today, not to mention the lovely split to my lip I now have to nurse for a few days while it opens up every time I smile. You did well though, keeping your temper in check. Proud of you.” I winked at Qhuinn and waggled my brows. Teasing my male about his famous lack of control always amused me, just as much as he liked teasing me about my lack of patience.~

Qhuinn: [I should have seen the cheese lob coming, but I was too amused at the lack of patience Dehv displayed. I nodded in agreement and picked up one of the tiny cake things, shoving in my mouth before I answered] Yeah, that’s probably why they had me handle it. A, they knew the idiots wouldn’t start shit with the other Brothers around not like they do with me because of who I am and B, Z definitely would have done some damage to them before they were taken down and then Wrath would have had to clean it up. This way, they saw it all happen and my ass is covered.

[I let out a low growl and rolled on the floor closer to my male as he brought up the other incident. Jhasper would be a good fighter for the brotherhood if he managed to pull his head out of his ass. Right now he was striking out because of hurt feelings for some reason, or at least that’s how it felt. He seemed to go after Dehv with a passion I’d not seen in him before. And yeah, I wanted to rip his head from his shoulders when I heard the crunch to Dehv’s knee, but I knew I couldn’t interfere. I probably still had the marks on my palms from my nails digging in but I managed. I stole a quick kiss, skimming the busted lip of his and grumbled] He’s lucky that I respect you and the Brotherhood or he’d have been a blood splatter on the floor. But I promised you and Wrath I’d let you hold your own in the class and not interfere unless I had to. I think I deserve some kind of freaking reward after this one though.

[I nodded and flashed a cheeky grin at him as I nudged his shoulder] Then again…you are injured now, not sure you’re up for celebrating a free evening with me now and who knows if they’ll really let us spring free of the hell that’s been our schedule lately…

Dehv: ~ I kept eating as I listened, nodding in agreement with basically everything he said. “They did go after you and got off lightly. Z wouldn’t have held back, but then again, that might have been enough for them to learn their lesson. I’m glad that they were stupid enough to take you on with witnesses while in the training centre. Much easier to prove than if they’d have jumped you on rotation. I know that none of us were feeling confident about being out on the street with either of them. I’m not entirely sure they’d have protected our backs or seen just how well we fought on our own while they watched.” I shook my head and reached for one of the little olives that was stuffed with some super hot chili. It burned on my tongue, then heated a trail down to my stomach. It wasn’t long before I just picked up the little pot to polish off the rest.

I couldn’t keep the smile off my face when Qhuinn rolled closer through, that growl telling me that he wasn’t any more impressed with Jhasper than I was. I nodded yet again and then laughed. “He does seem to have a chip on his shoulder. I’m not sure if it’s just me it’s directed at, but I thought I’d test that next session. Whatever we’re doing, I’ll try and pair with him again.” I nodded and then focused on Qhuinn as he moved closer, my foot stilling instantly when his lips met mine. I growled softly and pressed closer for a minute before speaking. “I think you did just as well as I did when you were jumped. At least you’re used to having to hold back, none of us have a hope in hell of getting the drop on you. But the other trainees have just as much chance at hurting me as I have of hurting them. Think you’ll manage to keep yourself in check if Jhasper has it out for me and it gets worse before it gets better in training?” I chuckled and bumped Qhuinn’s shoulder in return, my teeth grazing over my lower lip, carefully avoiding the area that would he healed before the next training session. “Oh you don’t have to worry about that one. It’s been months since we actually got more than a quick half hour in a cupboard. They’ll give us tonight, they canceled a class for us. If there’s an emergency, they’ll call us in, but only if the others can’t cover it. Lets move this somewhere that will mean I don’t get food in places it’s not welcome, and you can check me over to ensure I’m not more hurt than you originally thought.” ~

Qhuinn: Or Z would have put them in the hospital and we’d have had a whole shit ton of trouble fall down on the Brotherhood. I don’t envy Wrath having to deal with their parents. [shaking my head and then letting loose another low growl at the thought of him purposely setting Jhasper off] If you take him on, you better be prepared otherwise I won’t be responsible for what I do if he hurts you again...Though if you think I’m going to easy on you all, I can certainly change things up with the training.

[I tried not to groan as he tempted fate by bringing up emergencies. Chances were slim. We had enough for patrols but I never wanted to push my luck since it rarely ran my way. Though I sure was planning on taking advantage of very minute we did get away with right now while I could. Only because I didn’t know how long it would last or how long it would be until we caught another night off together, despite technically being right at the end of our probations…Raising a brow and turning a full on predatory look at my male] Now, if you had food in places, I’d be more than happy to lick you clean, but as it happens, I do have a much better place for you in mind. One where I can spread you out and give you that proper inspection that you need. And you won’t even have to worry about the hard wood on your back, old man.

[I stole another kiss with a grin and flashed a wink before popping to my feet and offering a hand]

Dehv: ~ “He’s likely do just that to be fair. He’s not known for his patience, or his control.” I chuckled at the thought, not that I wanted any of the trainees to get hurt. And likely if any of them got hurt, other trainers would get involved to help. But sometimes I felt it would do some good to see just how brutal the brotherhood could be if cornered or forced to fight.

I snorted out loud when Qhuinn mentioned going easy on us all. He kicked our ass week in and week out. No matter who went up against him, often more than one trainee at a time, were knocked to their backs within minutes. It came from growing up fighting no doubt, and then additional training in areas that many of the class had no clue even existed. I wasn’t easy to take down either, but I wasn’t the best in the class by a long shot, though I loved battling with Davidson, Nhick and Qhuinn if I had a choice. But Jhasper needed put in his place, and the more we spared, and the more he injured me, the more I saw that he just had piss poor impulse control when he was losing. “He’ll hurt me again no doubt, because I’ll pull back when I am meant to in training rather than risk a real injury. He won’t because he’s determined to win the fight, no matter the cost. I’d think that’s something that will hopefully get beat out of him as training goes on, but if not it’s something I might have to raise as a concern to Wrath. After I raise it to you of course.” I grinned at Qhuinn and nodded, quickly forgetting that Jhasper even existed. I took the offered hand and stood, brushing off the crumbs from the less easily consumed food between stolen kisses. “Oh you can inspect me any way you want, as often as you want. We’ve got the whole night off, and if you’re lucky I might manage to cancel some of my appointments in the morning so that we can have the whole day off too.” I waggled my brows and linked my fingers with Qhuinn’s, pulling him with me towards the bedroom I knew was located at the back of the flat. I left my bag, and more importantly my phone, out with the food. Hopefully if it rang I’d not hear it and could pretend I had lost it temporarily should the Brotherhood try to contact me. ~

Qhuinn: [I grumbled more as he went on about Jhasper, the anger rolling through me like a tidal wave.] Maybe I’ll make sure to have a little one on one session with him soon. Show him what it means when someone stops holding back and remind him of his position. Not because he’s targeting you, but I can’t have him pulling this shit on anyone, period. It makes me look incompetent and I’m capable of that on my own.

[I flashed a cheeky grin as Dehv laced his fingers with mine and then groaned loudly at the tempting of fates. I pulled my phone from my pocket and flicked the switch to silent before tossing it back on the couch. I didn’t know if that would be enough. I hoped though. I gave Dehv’s fingers a tug before he reached the bedroom and pressed him against the wall, not leaving much room between us as I leaned in to steal a kiss, murmuring against his lips. I was mindful of his injuries but I still need to get close. I had that little niggle in the back of my head that we still only had but a few stolen moments and I intended to savor every one of them.] IF you didn’t just jinx us…now, what can I do to persuade you to cancel a few of those appointments?

Dehv: ~ I listened and processed as Qhuinn spoke. He was right about Jhasper needing to be shown what his temper would do and how it impacted others. I was sure he was learning, I just wasn’t sure exactly what could be done to teach him. Being beaten down by Qhuinn might not be the best way to go, as it would likely spark more anger. “Maybe just take him aside as a one to one conversation about it? I know that if you beat my ass deliberately and as you can do, I’d end up embarrassed. And if I had Jhasper’s lack of control in the classroom, I’d get even worse with others. I don’t know, you’re the teacher, so do whatever you feel works. Wrath probably has some pointers, but you don’t look incompetent, no one is saying or thinking that. You sorted out those idiots without breaking a sweat, and without making anyone in the class feel like they weren’t safe.” I nodded, my smile huge as I moved closer to the bedroom and grinned at Qhuinn. I really wanted to feel confident that we’d have the whole night and through the next day, but I knew the Brotherhood, and if they didn’t call his friends down at UGH might.

Instead of wallowing I growled softly when Qhuinn tugged me closer and the wall stopped my backwards motion. I had no issues with the pain that still shot from my lip now and again, it would be healed soon enough, and the pain was fun when added to every other feeling that radiated through every nerve. I chuckled between kisses and used my free arm to curl around Qhuinn’s back, sliding my fingers firmly over all that hard muscle. “I’d never jinx us, nope.” I grinned widely, my brows wiggling playfully before I pushed away from the wall slightly to close the tiny distance between us, pushing gently to guide us both through the bedroom door. “I think you can start by showing me how much you’ve missed me over the last 6 months.” ~ #StealingTime

[jlynnhiddles-blog]

Chapter One: The Custom Client

Set in the present, this is a fairytale about a girl making her own way in the world whose work leads her to the man she’d cast as her Prince Charming. Will she try on those glass slippers or will she find out she’s met The Beast? Can two people from different realms risk everything and make it across The Bifrost? Can endings ever be happy? Join me on this adventure, send me a message or a poisoned apple and enjoy!

Jamie glanced up at her workscreen when she heard the incoming message alert from her lab manager, Charlie, requesting her in his office before the end of the day. It was a busy Thursday afternoon in the dental lab where she added color to synthetic crowns to match natural teeth. Most were from pictures, but she was also in charge of seeing patients who came to her for personalized work. Much of the company’s business was from local dentists and they specialized in high end fabrication. Jamie liked the people she worked with and felt lucky to be able to help people get their smiles back. She took a break from the case she was working on and strolled to Charlie’s office, tapping on the edge of the open door.

“Hey Jamie, have a seat,” Charlie smiled. “I need to send you out to do a custom job tomorrow afternoon.”

“Send me out?” she asked, with some surprise. She sat on the leather office chair across from him. “The patient can’t come here?”

“It’s one of Dr. Kline’s patients and apparently it’s a VIP situation. You’ll be meeting the client at their hotel instead of the doctor’s office. But someone from Dr. Kline’s staff will be there, too. They need help selecting the shade and material. It’s just one tooth but they really want to keep the patient happy.” Charlie leaned forward. “This case is really important. The office was happy to pay for your specialized services.”

"Any idea who the patient is?” she asked, intrigued.

“Important enough that they sent over a non-disclosure agreement. They only want you to deal with him. The file name is under Bobby. We have a few pictures but just of the patient’s mouth. I don’t think it’ll be a challenging case. Which makes me even more interested.“

Charlie handed her a copy of the prescription. "Here’s the file information I have so far. They’re sending a driver for you at three tomorrow.”

“A driver? Like an Uber?”

“Pretty sure it’s a private car service. You’re going to a hotel in downtown Tampa. They didn’t want to tell me which one.”

“Sounds like the setup to a slasher flick,” she laughed. “So, count me in.”

Jamie signed and dated the non disclosure. She’d done some work in the entertainment and hospitality industries and the form was standard. Who would she tell, anyway? She walked back to her desk resumed her work. After setting several cases to finish in the specialized ovens, she glanced at the clock and started cleaning up her desk. She took her tablet home to review the pictures of the mysterious Bobby.

Jamie lived alone, save for her two cats, in a second story walk-up apartment. It was a typical evening. She fed her eager cats a can of wet food, played word games with Alexa and made a quick dinner. After the dishes were done and put away, she sat heavily on her loveseat. Her little apartment displayed what she loved. It was quiet, with lots of books and movies, especially her favorite Marvel films from the past ten years. She enjoyed the bright colors, the sweeping overtones, the battle for good, evil, and redemption. She’d always been partial to bad guys. Her childhood heros were Shere-Kahn, Ursula, and Captain Hook. As an adult, Marvel villains kept her interest. Her wall art favored them, as well as other inspirational prints and pictures.

“Alexa, play some Hank Williams.”

She put her feet up on the battered coffee table and found the file on the tablet. The patient had really great teeth, but one incisor was recently and slightly broken. She typed up a quick treatment plan and preliminary shade selections. It would probably be a straightforward fix and a happy patient. She was honestly excited to get out of the lab and find out what the fuss was about.

The next day, Jamie got to work early to make up for the time she’d be gone. A few cases needed to go out that evening, so she settled in but her mind was never far from the impending afternoon excursion. Around 2:30, she had a granola bar and made sure her custom shading kit was packed. A few minutes to three, she poked her head in Charley’s office to tell him she was leaving.

“If I wake up in a bathtub full of ice, missing vital organs, you know I’m blaming you.”

Charlie chuckled and wished her luck.

Pulling out her sunglasses, Jamie walked out the front door of her office and saw the black Lincoln Navigator waiting for her. An imposing gentleman in a black suit was standing in front of it.

“Miss Birch,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

Jamie extended her hand in greeting. She didn’t intimidate easily and she wasn’t sure there was anything to be intimidated by. Yet.

"I’m Bruce,” he said, returning her handshake. “I’ll be driving you today. Are you ready to go?” He towered over her but returned her smile once he shook her hand.

“Absolutely!”

He opened the rear passenger side door and offered her a hand to hold to get in. She had her purse and kit, which was really a dark green diaper bag. Most of the lab employees wear scrubs as part of their uniform, but Fridays are casual. Jamie had decided to wear her scrubs anyway since she was going to be out on official business. The royal blue complimented her light skin. She usually didn’t wear makeup to work, but she’d taken the time today, carefully enhancing her golden brown eyes with metallic shadow and blushing the roundness of her cheeks. A coworker had softly braided her ombre-dipped blonde and brown hair down her back. Working in the smile business, appearances matter.

Bruce closed her door and walked around to the driver’s seat.

“We’re going to downtown Tampa. You can adjust the air conditioning from the center console. Is there anything you need right now?”  

“I’m good, thank you,” she replied.

She pulled out her phone, beaming as always at the green and gold displayed on her lock screen. She still had no idea who the mysterious Bobby was! As they drove, she made polite conversation with Bruce. He looked to be nearing fifty, with fair skin, broad shoulders and close cropped salt and pepper hair. At first, he was all business until he mentioned his daughters and then she saw the crinkles soften his eyes behind his sunglasses. The drive across Tampa Bay was beautiful. She stared out the window and saw a few dolphin fins crest in the waves. She’d worked and lived in other parts of the country, but she always came back home. Before she knew it, they were pulling up to the portico of the hotel. Bruce hopped out to open her door before she had a chance.

"You’ll be met in the lobby by a staff member. Don’t forget your bags.”

“Thanks for the ride, Bruce. Will you be taking me back to my office later?”

He smiled at her. “Probably.”

“Well, wish me luck!”

Jamie took a slow, deep breath and nodded to the doorman as he opened the hotel door. As her eyes adjusted to the light in the lobby, a man about her age strode towards her. She stopped dead.

“Luke.” Her mouth formed the word but she honestly wasn’t sure if it had come out.

The dark haired man smiled inquisitively through his tortoiseshell glasses at her.

“Miss Birch? I’m sorry, do we know each other?”

“I. Uh. No. Of course not. I’m Jamie Birch. I’m here to assist with some dental work on–”

The man cut her off.

“Yes, of course. If you’ll come with me.”

He firmly led her by the elbow to the banks of elevators. Discreetly, he passed a keycard over the digital display and the door opened immediately. As they closed, he turned to her.

“I’m sorry for interrupting you out there. No one can know that we’re here. You recognized me. Which, honestly is kind of weird because I’m not famous. It’s my job not to be famous. But, I think you know who you’re here to see. I’m going to need you to stop looking like you might die though, okay? This will be fine.” His classically British accent conveyed authority and kindness.

Jamie hadn’t said a word. Her brain was desperately trying to catch up. She stared at Luke. Gently, he pushed upward on her chin, closing her mouth she didn’t know was open.

“Don’t want flies to get in!”

Her mind replayed the known facts. She pictured the smile. The bright perfection of it. The urgency and secrecy of the visit. Bobby. And now, Luke Windsor, press agent to some of the biggest British stars in the world. Of course, she didn’t actually know him. But, here he was. Which could only mean one thing.

“Is it okay if I call you Jamie?” Luke asked. The elevator had stopped and he pushed a button on the display. He stood directly in front of her and smiled again. An easy, reassuring, and practiced smile.

“Jamie. I need you to take a deep breath.” He took her hand. “You’re here to do a job. You look great. We’re going to get off the elevator and get to work. I promise, this will be fine. Just relax. He’s as brilliant as you think he is.”

Jamie continued to stare at Luke. With a slightly resigned sigh, he pressed a button and the elevator doors opened directly into the suite.

“Hey! We’re back,” he called, stepping out. “I’ve got the miss from the dental lab.”

From around the corner came the very familiar voiced reply.

“Excellent. Bring her in here, will you?”

Jamie didn’t move. She was still in the elevator. Luke stepped back in and put his hand on the small of her back, gently pushing her forward. She took one, stilting step and slowly walked towards the direction from which the voice came as Luke guided her.

Together, they turned the corner and she stopped again. Luke kept his hand in firmly in place on her back as if he was propping up a puppet.

Tom Hiddleston glanced up from the book he was reading. He was casually seated on a plush chair, his impossibly long legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankle. His eyes flicked up to her and then back down to the book as he analyzed the lovely woman in front of him. He was used to the look on her face, but usually it was in a cafe or an airport, not his hotel room. He slid a bookmark in place and stood, covering the distance to her in two long steps.

“Tom, this is Jamie Birch, from the dental lab. She recognized me in the lobby. Apparently, she’s quite the fan of my work.” Luke pushed gently on her lower back again and reflexively, she took Tom’s proffered hand. As she did, she felt a nudge on her knee. She looked down at the chocolate cocker spaniel, whose ears flopped back as he looked up at her.

“Bobby,” she said. She was pretty sure she said it out loud.

Tom laughed. It was like music.

“Ehehehe yes, that’s Bobby I’m afraid. Luckily for you, he’s not the one in need of a dentist. So sorry about the cloak and dagger stuff. We have established that you know my publicist and my dog. I’m Tom.” He still had her hand lightly in his.

Jamie didn’t say anything. She couldn’t even be sure she was breathing. Here she was, clearly exposing herself as some sort of crazed super fanatic, giving away that she’d poured over publicity photos of him. How else would she know Luke and Bobby? That’s what crazy stalkers do. They probably thought she wasn’t even from the dental lab. Any second, Bruce and another security guard would come in here and pick her up and carry her down in a service elevator. Tom had probably already pressed some hidden panic button when she walked in the room.

“I–” she stammered.

“Where are my manners?” Tom said, releasing her hand. “Let me get you some water. Or, tea?”

“I–” was all that came out.

“Both, then. We’ll sit down and have a chat and you can get to work.”

Work?, she thought. Work! Her case was still in her hand and her bag on her shoulder. Luke felt the tension ease in her body a bit as Tom walked to the open kitchen. He gently took her bags and placed them on an ottoman and offered her a seat, then walked out of the room, Bobby trailing after him.

“I’ll just put the kettle on. Why do American kitchens never have electric kettles?” Tom asked her.

“I–” she stammered. Taking a deep breath, she said, “Well, we won the Revolutionary War.”

Tom’s smile and laugh were instantaneous. “That, you did. Yet, here we are, all friends again. I’m glad to hear your voice and your wit, Jamie. Do you mind if I call you that?”

He sat down opposite her. His face was clean shaven and his reddish hair was slightly unruly. He wore black jeans, a dark t shirt with a thin navy sweater over it, and dark sneakers. The sunlight lit up his bright blue eyes as he looked at her. Jamie opened her mouth to speak, but didn’t seem to know any words so she closed it, her lips forming what she hoped was a smile. He continued to gaze at her, seemingly enjoying her unease. They sat in heavy silence and Jamie tried desperately to think of something, anything to say. He was her favorite person in the world and she was speechless. Absentmindedly, he rubbed his long fingertips across his lips as he watched her.

Soft, he thought. The way strands of her hair peeked out from behind her ears. The faint wrinkles on her forehead where her eyebrows had raised in surprise. The curve of her hips as she sat, properly, one ankle tucked behind the other. The hint of a Southern accent in her voice. Everything about her was comfortable, comforting, warm and soft.

The kettle whistled, breaking the spell.

“Cream and sugar?” he asked, popping up and walking back to the kitchenette across the room.

“Yes, please, if you have them,” she replied. Politeness forced her speech to return.

He brought over a small tea set on a tray and set it on a table between them. It was pink and curved, with scalloped edges. Not the kind of set a five star hotel would furnish its kitchen with. Jamie eyed it with suspicious familiarity as Tom poured her tea.

“Don’t tell me you recognize this, as well?” he asked with some surprise.

“It is the official tea set of the Untitled Avengers Film Character Revival Waiting Area,” she replied, with what she hoped was a casual shrug. The picture of Tom and castmate Sebastian Stan was one of the best from the previous weekend’s comic book convention. A fan had set up the picture with Tom and Seb sipping tea while she held up a sign noting it was a waiting area. Both of their characters had died in the most recent film and fans were eager for their resurrection. The picture had become popular and apparently, Tom had kept the tea set.

“Were you in Seattle?” Tom asked with some excitement at the edge of his voice.

“No, I couldn’t take the time off work. I just saw some pictures and video. You–I mean, it, looked great.”

“They’re fun. Getting to meet people who are passionate about my work is fantastic and humbling and usually overwhelming.”

"Then security isn’t going to shoot me with a blow dart and roll me out of here in an industrial laundry cart?” Jamie asked, the tea returning some of her nerve.

“Eheh. No. Luke has a pretty good sense about people. He keeps the trains running. He wouldn’t have let you up if he thought you were going to boil my bunny or something.” His voice was so soft and smooth. One of her favorite things was listening to him narrate books. She closed her eyes as she sipped her tea, listening to him. “I really appreciate your coming down here. It’s probably a good thing that you know who I am and already what I look like so you can help. So, you are a fan, right?”

Jamie smiled at him, her first honestly relaxed smile since she’d met him. He loved how it lit up her face.

“Uh yeah, of the whole Marvel Universe. It’s fun. I’m excited for Ant Man and The Wasp next month. And Captain Marvel next year. I’m thrilled to get more female superheroes.” She purposefully kept her voice level and didn’t mention the films he starred in.

“Did you like Infinity War?” he asked.

“No.” she replied, more softly than intended. “I saw it twice, but no, I didn’t like it.”

He’d started to ask her why, when her phone began to ring in her scrubs pocket.

“I’m so sorry, I thought it was off,” she said, pulling it out. As she fumbled with it, the locked screen faced him briefly. He reached out and took her wrist firmly, turning the screen to him. He didn’t mean to, but he couldn’t help himself. He’d seen his own green and gold armor. Loki. He released her as soon as he realized what he’d done. She didn’t meet his gaze as she put the phone to her ear.

“Just making sure you got there okay and that you still have all of your body parts!” Charlie said, cheerily.

“Yes, we’re fine here. I was just discussing long term treatment goals with the patient. I’ll shoot you a text if we have any questions.” She hung up. Fuck, she thought. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I am so fucking screwed.

Slowly, she raised her eyes back to his face. He was grinning.

“May I see that, please?” He held out his hand.

Really having no choice, she locked the screen again and gave it to him. It was a close up shot of Loki’s chest, wearing his unmistakable armor. The text read I am Loki and I am alone. She smiled sadly at Tom.

“I can just relate to some of his pain, I guess. Neither of us really fit in. And I like bad guys.” Maybe this wasn’t so terrible. It’s just Loki. He’s a wildly popular character! He has an army! Being a fan of Loki was hardly unusual and sort of explained why she knew Luke and Bobby. Maybe she’d get out of this with some dignity.

Tom nodded understandingly, reaching out to give her phone back.

“He’s a guy with a lot of pain. It’s always good to hear some sympathy for him.” His thumb slid across the screen as he passed it to her. Loki disappeared and the home screen appeared. Dressed in a white button up, dark sunglasses and a very tight blue suit, appeared Tom Hiddleston. The real Tom turned the screen back towards him. With a slow smile, he placed it back in her hands.

“Not just bad guys, then.” He made the statement as fact, his voice unmistakably pleased.

[mimiplaysgames]

Strength to Protect the Things That Matter (Ch. 21)

Pairing: Terra/Aqua Rating: T Other characters: Garnet, Aqua, Hope, Rydia, Noctis, Riku, Kefka Word Count: 7,113

Summary: Terra has prayed for years. He wanted relief from having no one to talk to in the dark, except with the monster of a man who stole his life. One day, when two boys get a lead, he gets his chance - less than a week - to set things right before he loses everything again.

AO3       FF.net

A/N: I’m so damn excited to finally get to this! The flashback scene was inspired by @holyteapotofrussell ‘s absolutely adorable art that features Terra and Aqua as children.  They also wrote an equally adorable fic that fits their headcanons for this art piece. Please check out their work and send love! Thank you so much for allowing me to use this piece as inspiration. It’s been MONTHS since I have asked you for this, and I have been so blessed to get to you know you since. <3

I have been asked by a Tumblr reader to include pictures/video of Final Fantasy characters that have never appeared on Kingdom Hearts before. I included those links at the end of this chapter.

Clowning

The windows on the second floor of the hotel have large enough window sills that Terra can sit on one and stare away at the clock tower. Hope has given him an herbal drink brewed with acacia for strength and alertness. Everyone who volunteers to fight Kefka will drink this ahead of the battle. For now, all he can do is wait for orders. 

But it isn’t the fight with Kefka that occupies his mind. He holds his Wayfinder in his hand, stroking it as he daydreams about meeting her again.

Being that Aqua has been surviving in the Realm of Darkness for a little more than twelve years, Terra builds an image of her in his mind. She is about thirty years old now. The baby fat will subside, leaving hollower cheeks and stronger cheekbones. She will probably be curvier than before, in all the right places. If she smiles at all, the lines of her eyes will grace them. Her hair may have grown out, and it’s a wonder how long it is now. Maybe it already is showing sneaky strands of gray. Her eyes will be the same. Either way, she would still be pretty.

The sound of shaky wheels creep up behind him. Garnet is pushing a cart filled with bandages, multi-colored potions, and a large pitcher of water, approaching a door. He gets up and holds it open for her so she can slip through. The lights in the room are dimly lit in a warm glow, almost as if to be relaxing... but it’s a different story altogether. Inside are two rows of small beds, each with a person either sleeping, coughing, or dealing with pain. There are more people, as well - some with arm slings, others who do not have any visible injuries but are perhaps suffering nonetheless. Some of them approach her when she enters.

“Terra,” she calls as she is surrounded, “would you be a dear and fetch me those cups?”

She points to a number of cups that are placed high on a shelf - clearly too high for her unless she used a ladder. Terra states that he will help her, and follows her around as he pours each person in the room a cup of water. She speaks quietly to every single person in the room. He overhears her asking much of the same questions: if they have any pain, if they are thirsty, when was their last meal, if they are calm and comfortable.

For those in pain or who have open wounds, she uses her magic to heal them, holding her hands up close to the physical source, a bright light mesmerizing out of them as she works. It is not the same as the green healing aura that emits out of a Cure spell that all Keyblade wielders know (or from any other magic casters he’s seen). The color is nearly white instead.

And she does it effortlessly, almost like a thought, without having to pray for it or summon it vocally. Each time she does it, the dimness of the room brightens up just a little. It’s truly a special gift.

When she’s done, they head for the room directly next door: a small storage room with no windows, a row of cupboards, and a sink. Garnet drags a tall stool across to climb it, in order to store some things away.

Terra leans against the wall. “You are amazing with magic. It’s unique, where did you learn it from?”

Garnet stands straight as an arrow as she balances on the stool, almost as if she is aware that she may fall. She beckons Terra to hand her empty bottles. 

“My professor.” She smiles as her eyes travel into memory. “I’ve spent all of my youth in his library, with not much to do except to indulge myself in his works. He gifted me the use of magic... Of course, he was also good on his promise that I was to be presentable as a lady.”

He holds his hand out to help her balance. She hops off the stool.

“I was also in a library practically my whole life,” he says. “My Master ran an academy for Keyblade wielders.”

“And what did your mother think of this?” She reaches for a clipboard and writes in it, checking off an inventory list.

“My Master adopted me.” Terra chuckles, his cheeks warm. It’s one of the best memories of his life. “What about you? Did you have a mother?”

“No, I sprouted off some hole in the ground,” she says dryly, continuing her list as though she isn’t fazed by the question.

A nervous crackle - he didn’t realize it was such a poorly worded question. “I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

Garnet stops writing and dramatically turns to him with a grin on her face, touching the crystal that hangs off her neck. “This is my inheritance, from my mother.” She places the clipboard on the sink counter. “I do wonder about your own knowledge of magic. I know all Keyblade wielders can cast spells.”

“Yeah, and we’re each unique in how we mold it. But I’m not that good at traditional spells.”

“Yet you do know how to recognize skill with it. I beg to ask for the story behind that.”

He finds a chair and sits, rubbing his chin as a tight smile forms on his face.

“My best friend, Aqua.” It doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue like it used to. He wonders if she’s really a best friend anymore, in the case that he ruined everything about the two of them. He forces this thought out of his mind. For now, it’s better to pretend that nothing’s changed. “She’s really spectacular with it.”

The day was cloudy and breezy - but not the kind that left the sky dark. When the sun wasn’t beating down on the mountains so harshly, he could see the coloring of the trees and the rivers far away even better in weather like this. They were taking a walk on some short ledges, where the terrain was particularly rocky. As long as they promised not to go too far (and as long as Terra promised to hold her hand so they wouldn’t separate), they could venture much farther than the gardens within the castle perimeters.

Aqua had been with them for a year now, and had just turned nine. For her last birthday, Eraqus gave her a pointy hat adorned with stars and moons (much like an old friend of his, he said at the time). A wizard’s hat, because she had expressed so much interest in learning magic. She wasn’t wearing it now. It instead rested on top of a giant book of basic spells that she wanted to drag around with her.

Right now, she was practicing cartwheels and backflips. She was slow to start them as she braced herself before the execution, but she gracefully landed each one with perfection. Or at least she made it look that way. Her long pigtails flicked before landing on her shoulders again with each presentation of athletic ability.

But that was the thing with her. Perfection. Always trying to get Eraqus to notice it. Always trying to make sure she got it right each and every time. It made him look bad. It was annoying.

Terra was ten years old. Two digits, that was. He was supposed to be proud, and he was supposed to be better naturally because he was older. “I can do that, too,” he scoffed.

“I never saw you do it well,” she retorted with a smirk.

Eraqus had tried to get him to understand that he really was much better than her at most things - fighting, memorizing what was in the books, doing chores, being adept in the outdoors. He had tried to tell Terra to allow her to be proud of her flexibility and mastery of her own body.

But that still made him lesser. Worse still, she admired Eraqus for being a Master. And he wanted her to admire him as well, because he worked hard for it. “You’ll eat your words.”

His cartwheel, according to her, looked like a frog trying to hop with its stubby forelegs. What followed was an attempt at throwing himself even harder so his legs would straighten out. He could already do handstands - cartwheels were different.

What came next was a flop onto the ground, a tumble off a rock, down one of those tiny ledges, and a roll against rough terrain. His reward was several scrapes all over his arms, and a horrible throbbing sting on his knee.

“You ok?” she called to him, and he held his knee as he grimaced and squirmed a bit, shaking his head. She ran down to him, one hand holding the hat on her head and the other arm draped over the book, which was as large as her torso.

“Can you stand?” she asked as she sat beside him.

“No.” His voice was meek and he sniffed. The scrape on his knee was large and bloody, and tiny rocks wedged into it that made it hurt more. He told himself to keep it together. He had fallen way too many times to count that normally it wasn’t a big deal.

But when he got really hurt, the worst that came was the lecture the Master would give him.

“Let me help.” She said that too excitedly, and she brushed her pigtails and straightened the hat. She laid the book on the ground and flipped through it until she got to a page displaying calligraphy. The chapter was titled ‘Basic Healing Spells.’ She whispered what she was reading to herself, before facing him. “How does it feel?”

“It burns and it stings.” He slowly rubbed the dirt off the scrape.

She continued to read off the book, but waiting for her did not help the pain go away.

“Can you hurry it up?” He held his hands tightly on each side of the knee, hoping that the pressure would ease it.

She put her hands on her hips. “Shush!”

He leaned on his hands while she continued reading, sighing. From the corner of his eye, he could see that she held a finger to her chin. It looked as though, just for a second, she was ready to cast the spell because she started to face him... only to go back to sticking her nose into the book.

The stinging was coming in waves, and he leaned forward a little. “Before I die, Aqua?”

She gave him a quick, severe glare. She hated that word. ‘Die.’

“Sorry,” he said. He tried to breathe deeply while she continued to read.

Then she was ready. He held his knee while she waved her hand over it. She called out “Cure!” but what came was a horrendous burn instead. The kind of burn that would bite when touching something icy.

She had cast Blizzard by accident. He screamed as the ice dug itself into his knee. She yelled her apologies multiple times as he whimpered in pain, until she held her hands to her eyes and cried.

This sight made him uncomfortable, but he couldn’t understand why. “Don’t cry,” he said shakily. “I’m fine, really.” He grunted and breathed sharply. It hurt really badly, but the crying was what he will remember. It just made him sad.

“Can I try again? Please?” She wiped the tears flowing from her face, sniffling.

He hesitated first before agreeing, this time dealing with the sharpness of what felt like a knife rubbing itself while giving her all the time she needed.

She hesitated to cast again. She closed her eyes, telling herself audibly to just relax, and then called for a Cure spell again. It felt soothing, and it was like the pain was just lifted off the knee by some angelic force.

Relief. His arms went loose as he dropped onto his back, relaxing into the grass, gazing up at the clouds.

“I did it!” She laid on the ground next to him. She flashed a huge toothy smile, her face marked by dry tear streaks.

Garnet holds her hand to her mouth, almost in a way that gives him the impression that laughing as hard as she is would be considered unladylike. “She sounds brilliant,” she says.

“She is,” he says softly, his heart pumping as these words leave his mouth.

“Describe her to me.”

He gives her a wide-eyed stare, not knowing how to interpret such a request. “Um, well she has blue hair and blue eyes.”

Garnet, once sporting a smile, straightened her mouth into a line as she rolls her lips inward. “I was hoping for a more dramatized, romantic kind of description.” When he looks at her confused, she continues. “Much like what you would hear at a theater.”

He chuckles sharply. It isn’t exactly pleasant to have everyone around him read his feelings so easily, especially when he isn’t trying to be so blatant about them.

He considers a daydream of Aqua standing next to him. He would hold her close and kiss her in all the ways he was terrified to do before, because it kills him to wait longer. Because he should muster up the courage that he struggled with all these years, since she is still the one person who frightens him the most.

And yet, either way, he isn’t a romantic. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“You can start by comparing her to a symbol of your choice.” Garnet’s smile widens, her voice warm and encouraging. Hoping for entertainment.

At first he thinks about the unique way Aqua fights. It’s always mesmerizing to watch. “She dances when she fights. She... sometimes she’ll jump in the air and hit her enemies with a lot of...” What kind of person dances in the air? “It’s like looking at a ma-rio-nette.” The last word comes out rigid, as though he has tried to stop himself in the middle of it but he was too far into the word to be successful. Stupid.

Garnet’s brows furrow and her eyes narrow. “That was dreadful.”

“Can I try again?”

She holds up one finger, and he takes his time to think about it, going through several comparisons in his mind. His heart flutters, and finds himself wanting to get it right this time. He begins slowly, “Her eyes are like shallow ocean water, on a bright sunny day.”

Garnet claps her hands together. “That was so lovely.”

He laughs nervously as he runs his fingers through his hair. Not knowing what to say, he sits silently as she continues to gush about his words.

The clock strikes ten. Garnet’s laughter turns off, and she holds one hand to her heart, as if she’s monitoring how hard it’s beating.

When the clock is finished, a loud siren goes off. It blares loudly until it fades, only for it sway into a high-pitched scream again. Repeat. Garnet closes her eyes as it continues to weave back and forth into their consciousness, whispering to Terra that it’s a signal for a strict curfew - though most know to be in their homes by now.

When it’s over, she slowly opens her eyes, forcing a smile. “Come along, Terra. We mustn’t fear the reaper.”

The streets are completely empty except for the volunteers making their way into the third district, which is located several blocks from the hotel. It’s an incredibly modern area, where electric lights and fountains are fully utilized in its architecture. Riku tells Terra that this area has been recently quarantined. Normally, they choose territories farther away, but the more people go missing, the more Heartless will stick around in those previous battlegrounds. The numbers prove too much during an intense ten-minute fight. All the residents previously living in the third district have been evacuated.

In the corners of the block that will be the battle site, there are stacked cartridges, filled with ammunition for energy guns, offensive potions, first aid supplies, healing potions and smoke bombs. There are also small electric bombs placed high on a few of the buildings, and Terra is told to keep his distance from them.

Some people are even tasked with battering rams. Overall, it seems like the scientific team in Radiant Garden has spent a number of hours supplying the faction here with weapons. But what is most surprising of all is that there seems to be about forty people there, just to fight one Heartless.

They approach one of the hubs where some cartridges are stacked, where Hope is doing a final check-up.

“What are you doing here?” Terra asks him, surprised that they allow someone so young in such a dangerous arena.

“I’m a mage,” Hope says in a matter-of-fact way. He sounds nervous, but not enough to be intimated by the question. Almost as if he knows he has to be there. “I’m nowhere near as good as the others.” He gestures towards Noctis, Garnet, and Rydia, who are standing together in the middle of block, deep into a conversation that is impossible to eavesdrop from where they stand. Hope then turns quickly to Terra in an attempt to justify his words. “B-but I heal really well.”

Doesn’t this mean that he would be a target for Kefka? “Aren’t you scared?”

“Of course, we all are.” Hope scatters his sight on the clipboard in his hands. “This isn’t my first fight. I have survived the others, so I can survive this one.” He nods. These words are more for his own sake than for comforting Terra’s worry.

Hope then invites Terra to walk with him, and they approach Rydia, who is gazing into the electric lights as if she is studying them. She is holding her biceps like she is giving herself a hug, her long sleeves barely touching the ground. She gives them a tense smile, and reaches her arm out to embrace Hope.

“You ready for this?” she asks the boy.

“You ask me that every time.” He accepts the hug, and seems to relax when she places her hand on his head.

“And like every time, it won’t be an easy night.” She smiles widely at Terra. “But we have Terra for now. Maybe we’ll have it luckier.”

It’s such a warming thought that Terra feels his stomach swell. “That’s what I’m here for. We’ll both look out for you.” He ruffles through Hope’s hair, and it makes the boy smile.

Hope then hands Noctis his clipboard, which the latter places on top of several others. There are so many burning questions about what’s going on that Terra can’t help but speak out about them - against Garnet’s warning not to.

“I notice that the streets are empty. It seems like everyone else is hiding in their homes. Why face Kefka if you can just hide out?” Terra asks, trying his best to sound respectful, certain that they’ve all tried different scenarios in dealing with this situation.

Noctis’ jaw tenses before he speaks. “If no one’s outside to greet it, it will just destroy random buildings and crush everyone inside.” His tone is incredibly serious and raw. When he sees how shocked Terra is, he continues. “It’s a clown. It wants an audience.”

There is such contempt and anger in his tone that it’s undeniable. Regardless, Cid, who is passing by as this is said, loudly clears his throat and barked a “That’s highly inappropriate.” Noctis returns the statement with a glare so severe that if it had powers, it would have killed him.

Terra doesn’t know what to say in return, and a part of him wishes he never asked. How often did they experiment to learn something like that? Something on his face must have given his guilt away, because Noctis continues after a moment of silence.

“Those were some painful experiences. I remember being so scared every other night.” He flips a page on the clipboard. “The surprises always hit us the hardest, and when we lost the most.” He’s been at the same page for so long that it’s possible he stopped reading. “We’ve been fighting it for so long now that it seems like we know everything there is to know. And yet, sometimes, I still ask myself the same question: what if tonight is one where we will learn something new about it, and we aren’t prepared?”

Terra has been holding his fist, not realizing that he’s doing so. It’s not an easy subject to reply to. “I’m sure if you know everything about it, then tonight should go smoothly.” Is that an insensitive statement?

Noctis scoffs. “As smoothly as it could ever be.”

“Oy, we need to take the picture!” Garnet calls out to the two of them, and Noctis promptly agrees. He does it so quickly it’s as if the photograph is the most important event of the night.

Hope is setting up a camera that stands on a tripod, and Rydia makes a motion where she holds one open palm up and brushes it with her fingers. “This thing is amazing. It can create little paintings that have no brush strokes,” she says to Terra. The joy she is emanating is sincere, a rare source of light in such a tense night.

Rydia then calls out to other members that Terra has met, ordering him to stand in the middle since he’s the tallest. She tells Garnet and Hope specifically to stand in front of him (Hope replies that he’s still preparing the camera). Rydia stands to Terra’s right and rests her hand on his shoulder. Riku is beside her. Noctis stands to Terra’s left, with Cid by his side.

Noctis briefly pats Terra’s shoulder and says, “Welcome to the fam.”

Garnet turns, holding her fingers to her chin and pronouncing out a ‘Fam?’

Hope says that the camera is ready and rushes to his position while Garnet briskly faces the camera again and prepares her posture. Terra makes it a point to hold both of their shoulders, and gives a smile as the camera flashes.

As soon as it’s over, Hope scurries to pick up the tripod and runs to put it away. The group huddles around in a circle, waiting for him to come back. Garnet holds out her hand toward the center of the circle. Rydia places her hand on top, followed by Cid and Riku, and lastly by Hope. Noctis nods to Terra as if to invite him in, and he only rests his own when Terra complies.

“We’re here for another night,” Noctis says, his voice cracking. “And the only reason why I’m still whole, and why you’re all here, is because of all the friends we’ve lost. We’ll give them the remembrance they deserve. We’ll fight this thing, and tonight will be the one where we can finally breathe because it will be all over. I’m immensely proud to fight alongside all of you.” Even through a glove, Terra can feel the young leader’s hand tremble. 

Hope hesitates to speak, but does so anyway. “Here’s to many more nights where we can be together.”

Noctis chuckles. “That’s something Sora would say.”

Riku nods in agreement. “We should call him our mascot next time he’s here.”

Hope laughs at the suggestion, his eyes beaming. In some ways, imitating Sora seems to bring out the best in him.

Noctis takes a breath. “Be safe, everyone.” And he lets go. Everyone else situates into some pre-determined position, and Riku leads Terra to stand out in the open, behind the leader of the group. Garnet stands staggered behind them.

“You, me, and Noct will be the heavy hitters,” Riku says. “The others will support us from behind. You should know that Kefka carries six swords on its back. They are all deadly poisonous.”

“Lovely.”

“It will also freeze at some point and blow out a toxic gas - also fatal.”

Terra breathes out quickly. “Anything else I should know?”

“When it eventually materializes, cover your ears. Once the clock’s done chiming, it’s showtime.”

Riku leaves his side to find a position with some distance between them, and summons his Keyblade. Garnet holds a shortstaff in both her hands, and brings up the orb that sits on the tip of it to her forehead while whispering a spell. It glows, and a spinning crystal covers every individual on that block before completely disappearing. If Terra focuses on the space in front of him, he can see tiny sparkling particles.

The protection spell.

Hope brings out a large boomerang and holds his stance directly behind Terra, standing the farthest behind. Rydia pulls out a whip and waits by a manhole that is releasing a misty cloud. Cid readies a spear, and holds his place by the volunteers, his job to order them during the fight. The rest of the volunteers are ready with their energy guns, and explosive potions. The battering rams are set. Noctis stands the farthest forward as the leader, not holding any weapon but looking up, as if he is expecting someone tall.

The clock strikes eleven. No words are uttered. Terra summons his Keyblade and holds it close. Everyone around him keeps a lookout.

Eleven.

The bubbling sound that signals the appearance of a Heartless is deep this time, and a large black mass immediately forms right after the last chime. A tall, colorful, humanoid stomps onto the ground, and the entire area shakes.

It laughs. A mechanical laugh that sounds like it’s coming from a speaker, but it is so high-pitched that it feels as though Terra’s head is being crushed inside a metal crusher. He holds his head and yells out loud, hearing everyone else yell out as well.

Then it starts. Kefka is nine feet tall at least. Its joints are bolted, its limbs thin. It wears a ridiculous clown costume, with the black and red insignia that signifies its existence as a Heartless large on its chest. The colors on the costume are a sickly combustion of yellows, purples, greens, and reds, with a bright white ruffle collar that is pointed at the ends. Its shoes are mismatched.

It’s especially ugly in the face - it dons a white mask with red painted lines that mark its mouth and eyes, screwed onto the face. The teeth that are drilled into a permanent smile are sharp. The skin right around its bright yellow eyes are charcoal black. It is topped off with a garish feather sticking out of its hair. There are six swords, three behind each shoulder, which are as thin as needles.

Noctis summons a broadsword the first moment he gets and throws it at Kefka. He disappears. The sword flies into the air, and right before Kefka can block it, Noctis re-appears in the air and reclaims his weapon. He warps from various spots in the air as he strikes Kefka’s arms, which are up in defense. He strikes, then warps. Repeat. This process keeps him the air and makes him a difficult target for Kefka to grab.

The other volunteers start to open fire, aiming at its face. At first glance, the battle doesn’t seem too bad. Kefka seems slow to react, casting its gaze around as if dazed by all the violence directed at it. Then it sweeps an arm - a movement so quick that it can’t be predicted considering how long it takes for the clown to think. A group of men are thrown back. An explosion. It then tries to blast Noctis, who throws his sword onto the roof of a faraway building and warps there.

Garnet juggles between following Noctis in order to stay close to him and casting her white healing spells toward the people just injured. Rydia holds her hands ahead of her, chanting as the mist from the manhole solidifies.

Out from the mist flies a silver dragon. Riku jumps onto it, taking a ride across the sky. Cid yells some orders and runs around the clown while Terra follows.

At this point, Kefka is skipping around the block, its hands behind its back. Any time a person throws an explosive or shoots at it, its retaliation is tremendous and widespread. It stops. It dances, waving its arms. Explosions appear at random. There are plenty of sporadic cries, and men barking more orders. Hope makes laps as he he tries to heal anyone caught in the foray.

The dragon spreads a thick fog to hide some of the straggling volunteers as they carry out the injured from the immediate battlefield. Riku takes the right moment to jump off of it, striking Kefka from the top. Terra runs in an attempt to strike its legs - this is the perfect opportunity to trip it, considering that it is striding so casually in one direction.

Kefka shudders a moment. It makes an about-face and runs the opposite way, and Terra misses it.

The Heartless drags Riku its in hand before slamming him into the ground. The six swords float outward and Kefka makes a sweeping motion to strike Riku in a rush. He uses his Keyblade to block each one. The Heartless then waves in the opposite direction, the swords following suit. Noctis warps behind the clown’s head and makes several strikes. Rydia casts bombardments of fireballs and icebergs to push it back and away from the teenage Keyblade wielder. Her dragon comes and picks Riku from the ground, taking him to Garnet for healing.

The Heartless freezes for a moment, slowly turning to face Noctis. There is a widening of its eyes, as if Noctis’ strike is the most offensive out of everything else that is happening.

It doesn’t like its face or its head being touched.

“Let’s get him at the ankles!” Terra calls out to Cid, with the latter aiming to throw his spear. Terra strikes the ground, shattering the concrete and tripping Kefka some before it could attack Noctis. It doesn’t come down to its knees, but it eyes Terra. It stares as him as he sends shockwaves of light to attack it, its smile plastered.

It grabs Terra, too quick for him to dodge. It squeezes, and purple strikes of electricity engulf him, making the protection crystal around him visible as he screams from the pain.

Then it throws him before sending a dark blast of its own against him, shooting out from its palm. He hears what sounds like glass shattering as he lands onto the ground.

Terra can’t hear anything. Any voices are muffled and indecipherable. His vision is blurred, and he feels dizzy enough that he can’t feel anything. No pain. No fear. He just needs to stand up. But what for? He forgets where he is, and just wants to move. Just to figure out where he is so he can decide what to do. Just move, dammit.

His vision clears a bit. His face feels wind on it, his hair blowing. Right in front of him, rocks are floating. Gently spinning in the air. He’s like a feather, levitating above the ground as well.

He should have been face down on the ground.

When he realizes this, he falls flat onto himself, the rocks falling alongside him. There is pain in every muscle, and he’s twitching.

There are glows of green, literally pulling some of the pain out of him, and leaving behind a comforting warmth.

“You ok?” Hope calls out. The healer runs up to Terra, and helps him up. He continues to heal the Keyblade Wielder by gesticulating wide circles, so that Terra can start to be fixed all over. He mumbles to Hope that he’s fine, although he’s still dizzy. He isn’t sure what he just saw.

Some of the buildings have been destroyed and are up in flames. More bodies, uncertain if dead or alive, are being carried out of the area. Kefka is jumping around and twirling, making it difficult for Noctis to land a hit. Some of the volunteers wait until their opportunity, and run the battering ram right into the clown. They push it against a building, and a bomb goes off, knocking it forward onto the ground.

Terra hears a voice: “Darkness!”

Riku, covered in a purple aura, charges ahead to pick a sword fight with the fallen clown. The power gives him an edge in speed. He attempts to strike it in the face - the one place Kefka is most protective of. Riku hits furiously, following each with another. Kefka bellows a tremendous screech, which sounds like gears rubbing against each other in super speed.

It’s loud and worse than a nail scratch. Everyone close to the clown, including Riku, run as fast as they can away from it. Hope grabs Terra by the wrist and tries to get him as far back as possible.

From its neck and its joints a purple gas blows out, which flies far out and floats into the sky. No one is near it when this happens, and all wait until it dissipates before approaching again, giving the clown plenty of time to pick itself up and skip around. Another dance, another set of random explosions.

Terra, breathing heavily, readies his stance for when Kefka passes by him - although it’s difficult to do so. The pain may have been healed, but he is still unable to lift his heavy Ends of the Earth with confidence. He curses at himself for being weak. Hope stands by him, bracing for whatever Terra is silently planning in his mind. Maybe to heal him again. I can do this. I’ll trip him when he comes...

Should I use darkness this time? What if I turn against the others?

A sword is thrown up against Kefka’s cheek. It doesn’t even scar or leave a mark, but Noctis appears anyway, aiming just for the face. Kefka laughs, and it hurts every ounce of Terra’s head. It’s the worst headache he’s ever had.

When he comes to, Noctis is struggling to stand up, collapsed against a wall. Kefka prepares an energy blast in its palm. Garnet rushes and slides onto her knees, putting herself between Noctis and Kefka. She holds her shortstaff, the orb glowing. An intense pillar of light shoots upward from the ground, making everything shake. It sends a loud swoop before it swallows itself, and the light is gone.

It is enough to send the clown backward.

With his arm around Garnet, Noctis throws his sword towards the entrance of the third district, where all the injured are gathered. He dissipates, and she is carried through the air before being dropped behind the cartridges. She holds her sides, as if tired and in pain, unable to stand straight without leaning on someone else.

Rydia throws more fireballs, each one larger than the previous one. She engulfs Riku’s Keyblade in flames, and he rides her dragon again in another attempt to hit Kefka where it hurts. It blocks his attempts, and it ravages the dragon with a dark forcewave, throwing it aside along with its rider. Kefka rules its swords as they twirl around it, aiming it to make sweeping motions against the female mage. A boomerang hits the clown on the back of the head.

The clown hits Hope directly with a dark blast from its palm. The crystal around the boy becomes visible and shatters. He slumps on the ground.

Kefka laughs and everyone screams. It skips away.

Terra scuffles to Hope, who is still breathing. He cradles him in his arms. “You’re going to be okay,” he says. “I know a little bit of healing magic.” (It is true, but he’s not in the position to heal such a terrible injury.)

Hope writhes in pain, his eyes darting in every direction. He grabs Terra by the arm, and nearly scratches him because the grip is so desperate. “Don’t let me go to sleep,” he begs, a tear falling.

His breathing is sporadic, but it slows to a restful state. His eyes close. A warm pink-orange glow shines from out of his chest. 

Eraqus has always told them that touching a heart is forbidden, for it can cause irreversible harm. There is Hope’s heart, floating in the air. It looks bright, and Terra aims to grab it with both his hands but stops himself. It turns dark before disappearing, Hope’s body evaporating along with it. In his mind, it happens so slowly, cursing himself because he lost the chance to grab the heart and put it back. Even though it occurred over seconds.

“He’s too young,” he says softly. No one is close enough to hear him. He stares at his lap, where Hope was just laying. 

Ahead of him is Rydia, who witnessed it. Her face contorts into fury. She casts lightning, with a power so forceful that it spreads all over the area. It chaotically flies in every direction, hitting the clown. Thunder strikes when her magic marks her target, clapping several times.

She continues to send lightning against the Heartless, making it shake. Kefka walks in resistance against her casting, taking its time with every step. It keeps getting close to her, its swords floating behind it, and she can’t hold it back anymore.

Terra, silent tears coming down his own face, grunts and summons his armor. Just let the dark heat take over. Let it bring life back into his muscles. Let it give him the strength to wield his giant Keyblade. Curse this Heartless. Curse Xehanort for making it possible for it to exist.

He sprints forward, striking an ankle so hard that the monster actually trips to its knees. Shatter the ground. Strike its swords directly, strong enough to hold back the pressure that the clown is pushing against him. Send shockwaves of black and purple to damage the Heartless.

Kefka blasts him directly. If it weren’t for the armor, he would have been suffering the same fate as Hope. He is thrown against a wall behind him. Even with the armor for protection, being thrown this hard against such metal makes him ache. He is on his knees, breathing deeply into his helmet. He needs to get up. He needs to defend himself from the next energy blast that the Heartless is preparing for him.

He hears the crack of a whip. Rydia strikes the clown in the face, although she doesn’t scar it. She whips it a second time. A third, a fourth. She mouths spells as she summons a large fireball. Kefka grabs one of its swords and prepares to brush it across her. She hits the Heartless first.

Kefka steps through her fire, and swipes the sword across her, breaking her protection.

Then stabs her with it.

She stumbles backward, holding her oblique. Unable to get up, she looks up to the clown, and relaxes. Not because she is passing out. Not because she is too weak. It is much like the exact moment where a lamb knows that it’s too late to strive for life. She closes her eyes and waits for whatever it will do next.

Terra hates the clown more. He sprints in front of her and calls for another shockwave, throwing Kefka backwards and onto its back. He stays by Rydia, but instead of waiting for the clown to retaliate, he prepares a mass of darkness. It swirls and flickers around him, and he feels his Keyblade throbbing with the power. This is the end. I will destroy you.

Kefka stands up and stares at Terra. A swirl of darkness surrounds it and it disappears.

Terra looks toward the clock tower. Ten minutes past eleven. Terra shakes hard enough that the armor makes noises. He yells, because the darkness makes his head hurt so damn much. He pulls his helmet off. It’s so hot, and he’s sweating, but the exposure to the outside air doesn’t cool his face. I have to stay in control. I need to let this darkness go.

The pain is so bad that he cries out in half-breaths. He can still see the traces of smoke emanating through the cracks of his armor. He loses all feeling in his limbs.

“Are you alright?”

He looks up to see Garnet rushing as fast she can while she stumbles. She kneels in front of him. “Where does it hurt?” she asks.

“H-headache.” It’s too difficult to talk. Am I losing control of my mouth?

She holds her hand out by his temple. A warm white light, a pure light, and the pain slowly fades away. He can lift his limbs, and he stops trembling. His breathing steadies.

Garnet gently squeezes his wrist. “I saw what happened,” she says solemnly. “I must tend to the wounded, but I’ll be sure to add him to the list.” She gets up and meets with other people, including Riku, who are down on the ground as well.

The list. A same type of list that Aerith and Tifa collect to count how many people turn into Heartless after the end of a swarm. A pile of former identities. As time passes by, it’s only faces that are lost in the throws of it. Hope’s face.

“This looks bad,” he hears Cid say behind him. Noctis cradles Rydia in his arms, who has her hands up. She’s quivering with such a force that Cid has to be the one to carry her.

“Can you get up?” Riku limps over to Terra. “We are going to have a long night. There are always Heartless that pop up everywhere when Kefka’s been around. Including the hotel.”

Terra leans on his Keyblade to stand up. Garnet will come back after taking care of more immediate injuries to heal the both of them more, so they can be in better shape for the upcoming hours.

Some people are being carried in stretchers. Others have their arms draped on those strong enough to help them walk. Some are left behind for now - the unlucky ones who haven’t escaped this specific slaughterhouse. It’s just one that exists among the thousands of stars out there, each of them marked by Xehanort as his personal experiment.

Lambs for his needs, and Keyblade wielders as his tools.

For those of you who would like some references as to who these FF characters are. I added photos first and then some videos that suits their personalities:

Noctis (x) (x) (yep I’m cheap) Garnet (x) (x) (skip ahead to 4:19 for the vid) Rydia (x) (x) (that was difficult - this game was re-made for the DS) Hope (x) (x) (hard to find one without context or melodrama) Kefka (x) (x) (had to include his classic laugh)

[patrickcharlton-oshea-author]

Death Becomes Him: An Age of Steam and Sorcery novel

Chapter Three:

“Peter, time to get up! You'll miss your bus!”

Peter sat up and rubbed his eyes. Through the starburst that always came from pressing on your eyeballs too hard he could just see an error message: You have been logged out – idle for two hours.

“So that's what happens when you fall asleep in a game,” he muttered. Still, for as little sleep as he'd gotten it had been the most restful he'd had in a while. He resolved to log back in as soon as he got back home. Provided he survived the next eight hours.

Blearily he clambered out of bed and began pulling on his clothes. The school uniform wasn't particularly onerous. No tie and blazer here, just shorts and a collared t-shirt. Socks and runners completed the ensemble. He stopped to check himself in the mirrored door of the cupboard.  Hat, shirt, pants, socks, shoes. Check.

Down the hall echoed the sounds of breakfast preparation. Following them more from instinct than intent, Peter slumped into a chair at the table. His mother placed a bowl of cereal in front of him with a spoon in it.

“The most important meal of the day,” she said in a tone that sounded too happy to be real. “Now eat up, you've got ten minutes to be down at the stop. Your lunch is in your bag, which is by the door.”

Peter winced at the forced joviality in his mother's voice. He winced even harder when he bit into a spoonful of cereal. Granted that it was full of protein, carbohydrates and vitamins, but over the years legislators had contrived to force breakfast cereal companies to convert their product from something sugar filled and delicious into something with less taste and more texture than the cardboard box it came in. He chewed and swallowed as fast as he dared without losing a tooth.

As soon as he'd eaten as little as he could get away with he hopped up and poured the rest down the in-sink-blender-thing. He'd never caught the name of it, his parents just called it a “muncher”. Popping the bowl on the small pile of like crockery he hugged his mum and dashed out the door. A second later he dashed back in the door, grabbed his backpack and dashed out again. Seeing that it was on its way down already, rather than wait for the lift he pounded down a couple of flights of stairs to catch up, and took a moment to catch his breath as it descended the rest of the way. At the bottom he didn’t wait until the doors were fully open before dashing out through the lobby and over to the bus stop.

Just as he arrived, so too did the bus, arriving with a soft purr of electric motors. The doors swung inwards to allow him and the two other people who'd already been waiting to get on. Peter made his unsteady way to about the middle of the vehicle as it pulled away from the curb. The algorithm in control of the bus wasn't going to wait until he'd sat down and even accelerated harder as he swung into the seat, nearly pitching him headfirst into the lap of the boy in the window seat.

Peter gave him an apologetic grimace as he muttered “stupid machines”. The boy returned the grimace then proceeded to stare fixedly out the window. The rest of the blessedly short trip was spent in awkward silence.

The bus glided up to the stop outside the school and the doors opened with a slight hiss. The students shouldered and jostled to be the first off, as they had since time immemorial. As soon as their feet hit the pavement they fanned out into their cliques. The sporty ones ran inside, a football appearing as if by magic. The cool kids slouched along the fence, carefully cultivated indifference on their faces. The smarter crew babbled as they made their way into the grounds as they discussed topics from chess to chemistry to music. Peter ducked across the aisle to an empty seat to let his unwilling seatmate join them. He was happy to be last off.

Standing at the gate to the schoolyard Peter took a deep breath. “Best get it over with,” he mused. He began making his way through the school, the wide spaced buildings joined by covered walkways that thronged with students preparing for the day in their own way. Peter stepped around the groups, sometimes taking to the grass beside the walkways when there were too many people blocking the path. He arrived at the sheltered area where his class's lockers were. Every student was issued a locker and a combination lock that you were allowed to customise. Peter had gone with a classic: 36 left, 24 right, 36 left. He'd taken it from an old animated TV show he'd watched with his grandad when he was still alive. He still didn't know why Grandad had found it so funny, but that little yellow kid's locker combo had stuck in his mind.

Peter opened his locker door and dropped his bag into the bottom. Unzipping it, he began extracting his sports clothes, lunchbox and the tablet PC he was supposed to have used for homework last night instead of surfing the web and playing games. Games. His mind drifted back to the serenity of the garden he'd fallen asleep in. How photorealistic the textures had been. The gentle breeze and, now that he thought about it, the faint strains of background music. It all lived up to its name, it truly was a Garden of Tranquillity. Peter's arms dropped to his sides and his eyes closed as he recalled the scene.

CLANG! A big, meaty hand slammed Peter's locker closed, making him jump. Peter glared into the small piggish eyes of Billy Tomlinson. Or, as nobody ever called him to his face, Bully Tomlinson. Kid's insults aren't particularly inspired, but at least they're on point. Billy was the menace of Peter's grade. He'd managed to fail so comprehensively he'd been held back three times. He was head and shoulders taller than the next closest kid, and built like a brick outhouse. He was small minded and petty, but to balance that he had a very large opinion of himself. And right now his attention was on Peter.

“Scar-boy. Wha' choo doin'?” Billy had no volume control. His voice rebounded off the walls in the semi-enclosed space and drew all eyes. Billy rapped his knuckles on the now closed locker door. “Ah axed you a question, Scar-boy. Wha' choo doin' standin' dere lookin' at'cha locker for? You'se in me way.”

If the ground could have opened up and swallowed Peter right now he would have welcomed it. He kept his eyes averted and made no sudden moves. “Mjustgettingmystuff,” he mumbled. “SorryI'llgetoutofyourway.”

Billy placed one oversized paw in the centre of Peter's chest and thrust. Peter fell on his ass and slid across the concrete floor to fetch up against the lockers on the opposite wall. “Stay outta me way or you'se gonna get 'nother scar.” And with that Billy stomped off to fail another class.

Peter clambered up off the floor and quickly gathered his wits and belongings. Homeroom started soon and he couldn't miss the roll call. He waited until Billy was well out of sight though – best not to tempt fate.  Peter thanked his lucky stars that monster wasn't in any of his classes.

A few minutes later Peter was dropping himself into a plastic chair just as the bell began to ring. He slid his bag under the desk and waited for the homeroom teacher to arrive. He wished that he could access the internet while he waited, but schools were geo-locked to educational sites only. All he could see in his icon area was the school's crest that indicated that any net searches had to go through their portal. He doubted the Age's wiki was on their whitelist. He made do with taking some notes on things to check once he was unrestricted again.

He took his stylus out of his bag and tapped it on the desk. A note pad appeared in his vision and an overlay changed the grey cylinder of the stylus to a vibrant green fountain pen. It was an expensive skin for the device that his grandad had bought him for his last birthday before his grandad passed away. Peter made sure to use it every chance he got and even practiced his penmanship in Grandad's memory.

In virtually perfect copperplate he jotted down a short list of things to research, like skills and how they're acquired, item durability – since he'd already managed to tear his shirt and didn't want to wander about naked, and how to learn magic. After a moment he added crafting and materials. If his stuff was going to break, it might be a good idea to know how to make new gear.

He was just sitting back admiring his handiwork when the teacher logged in. Whilst it had been deemed that children benefited greatly from the group learning environment, a number of high profile court cases and the universal availability of the implant meant that it was better for all that the teachers were only present digitally. They were still able to present their classes normally, and were actually able to give any struggling students the attention they needed and teach the rest of the class simultaneously. Not to mention it meant that teachers could work from home and didn't have to deal with irate parents when their precious snowflake received a poor mark on a test.

The class greeted their homeroom teacher with a chorus of “good morning teacher” with varying levels of enthusiasm. Mr Wadsworth was a fairly decent teacher who taught woodworking and metal shop during the day. Peter was scheduled for that class just after lunch. After homeroom he had a double Maths and single English.

“Good morning class. I hope everyone had a fun weekend?”

The class responded with a round of “yeses”, “nos” and one whoop from John at the back of the room. Clearly he'd had an excellent weekend. Peter was instantly jealous.

As Mr Wadsworth began taking attendance Peter tapped the disk icon at the top of the notepad, saving the page for later. He dropped the stylus back into his bag and raised his hand as his name was called.

“Here,” he called out. The average response. The more studious, or brown-nosed, called out “present”. The cool kids, or at least those who thought they were cool, responded with “yup” or “yes”. It wasn't a large class, only about eighteen in all, and was soon done.

“Righto, off you go,” Mr Wadsworth said as he stood up. “I'll see some of you this afternoon, the rest of you have a nice day.” He stepped towards the door and disappeared in a puff of virtual wood shavings. It wasn't the usual disconnect animation, but he'd been teaching for a long time and earned a few concessions.

Peter grabbed his bag from under the desk and joined the flow out the door. The stream of students merged into the faster moving current of bodies on the path outside as he navigated his way to the Maths classrooms.

His journey took him past the school library, which made him smile. It's very existence was something of an anachronism, there being very little need for books anymore. Still, there were some kept here, as well as the traditional quiet research cubicles and group study tables. The space that once held shelf after shelf of hardcopy had been given over to lounges, beanbags and thick rugs with cushions. During lunch times this was his haven where he could read or study without being bothered. Billy and his ilk never entered these hallowed grounds.

The ever moving tide dragged him onwards to wash up on the shores of the Maths building. It was a two story antique, said to be the oldest on the grounds. Peeling white paint flecked the outer walls and a row of port racks sat opposite the classrooms themselves, waiting to accept the bags of the students. Inside, it had been modernised, eDesks and a holoprojector retrofitted into the aging infrastructure.

Slipping the tablet out of its sleeve in the bag, Peter slung the bag into the rack, then cursed himself and opened the bag and pulled out his stylus. Re-zipping the bag he turned and went inside to find a desk. He stopped at the first unoccupied seat and slid the tablet into the slot at the top end of the desk. The screen lit up and he slumped into the chair as the tablet synced with the classroom. It sometimes took a while for them to connect as the cases were bulky and hardened and didn't always sit neatly in their slot. They were also heavily encrypted. Obviously the school knew that students would love nothing more than to hack the devices and give themselves perfect marks, which was the primary reason they used them to record the students responses and progress instead of relying on the student's implant.

His tablet had only just finished its routine when Mr Luck pixelated into view. He didn't even offer any pleasantries and instead launched into a recap of everything they'd learned last week. Perfect. Peter let the educator's droning voice fade out as he called up a book he'd saved to the notepad and started reading. It wasn't uncommon for Mr Luck to spend the entire double saying the same thing multiple different ways. In part, it was his idiom. In part, it was because you needed to rotate some concepts through multiple axes to fit them inside the head of the more obtuse of his classmates. Either way, he had plenty of time to kill and his head was already starting to ache from lack of sleep.

He wasn't sure if he'd dozed or just been focussed on his book, but before he knew it the bell was ringing for the end of the class. Peter thumbed through the list of stuff on the tablet for the educating that had occurred around him. He was confident that he'd missed nothing and could knock over the questions at home. Tugging the tablet out of the slot he once more joined the flow of students out the door.

Once out the door, and having snagged his bag and dropped the tablet into it, he had to force his way opposed to the flow to get to his English class. It was held in a newer building up a slight rise which gave it a commanding view of the grounds. It boasted an outdoor area for dramatic curricula, and an indoor classroom that resembled a miniature amphitheatre. Mrs Easton, his teacher, knew how to extract the most from the facilities with such a voice and presence that it had been halfway through the first term before one of the other students had paused in the middle of an oral exam to exclaim “Mrs Easton, you're short!”

Indeed, now that Peter looked at her avatar as it pixelated in, she was just barely taller than the desk. Such was her command of the language it had taken weeks to realise this. Her passion was infectious; many who had never read a book in their life before starting her class were now devouring novels in their spare time. Ok, maybe not novels. See Spot Run might be a classic, but it's no Treasure Island or Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. Still, it's a start.

This week they were reading and acting out parts from an Australian play called And the Big Men Fly. It didn't particularly interest Peter; he'd never liked football of any kind let alone an obscure style like the one this play was about. It’s one saving grace was that it wasn't primarily about the game itself but about the lies people tell to convince others to do their bidding and how those lies come back to us, not unlike the Australian boomerang to an untrained thrower.

It was impossible to sleep in Mrs Easton's class, and Peter spent most of his time reading the play instead of his book. He was actually sad when the bell rang for lunch.

Peter pulled his bag from the rack outside the class and jogged across the grass to where his locker resided. He scanned the crowd for danger and found it clear. Good. He quickly unlocked his locker and pulled out the lunchbox. After the disappointing breakfast he was feeling quite peckish, and so pulled the lid off the lunchbox in a hurry. Out fell two sandwiches, tomato and cheese and cucumber and lettuce, judging by the look of them. Suddenly not so hungry Peter dropped the offending “food” into a nearby trash can. He knew his mother was just trying to give him a healthy meal, but why did healthy have to taste like ass? Sod it. He could raid the cupboard when he got home.

Still wrapped up in his irritation, Peter slammed the door of his locker, jammed the lock together, turned and marched straight into a wall of meat. For the second time today Peter ended up on his butt staring up at Billy Tomlinson. Billy's face was rapidly turning red as what had just occurred filtered into his consciousness.

“So Scar-boy, you'se wanna go?” Billy slammed his palms into his chest in the age old gesture of manliness. “You'se tink you da king now?”

Peter scrambled off the floor, seeing red. “Shut it Bully. Just because your mum changed her name to some boy-band reject doesn't make you a rock star.” A niggling thought at the back of Peter's head raised the possibility that this was not the best course of action. It was swiftly drowned out by the rising ire. “The only reason you're still allowed to go to this school is because she's sleeping with the treasurer. Not even the principle. The. Treasurer.” Peter paused and blinked, suddenly unsure as to where to go from here.

Billy provided the answer. Peter's vision exploded into stars. The last thing he heard before darkness enveloped him was “You shoulda left me mam outta this. Scar-boy.”

[sayofchains88]

Chapter one: Searching for Alex by OrangeLetters88~

"The hardest part to believe Alex as a leader is the fact he is most emotional of us all. He feels more deeply for someone than even humans I know..." Christian states following behind Dr. Carol to the car, they get in leaving the rest at the house for now.

Dr. Carol stuck his free hand out of the window holding the wheel with his other. "There was a reason I did not let the others come. You now are the new temporary leader and sometimes you may have to take over for Alex...we are here for observation."

Dr. Carol pulls in after the long drive far from the building. The area is shady. Located in a bad part of town, there is a long metal spiral staircase going up instead of a door.

He knocks on the door. Christian looks to his side or would periodically look down before someone opens up.

Dr.Carol bumps fists with a man in olive green and black pants. His face is hidden under a cowboy hat. "Hey man, what are doing here? New case after so many years or..."

"I need to see your registers for new incomings Graham. I had a kidnapping case happen at my new masters."

He laughs before promptly before slapping down large unlabeled book in colored folders. "Good luck, we get dailies on new entries and if he is recent it might not be in this yet, but this this morning."

Dr.Carol sits down in the corner in the already small crowded room. He signals for Christian to come over to sit beside him. He teaches him how to read the notes on the pages. They sit for what is hours looking through bold type face on a white page. Sometimes the pages are penciled instead of printed.

Various finger prints, photos of people with their faces covered. Purchases of the vampires in the thousands sometimes even humans used for experiment archives are found inside messily.

Christian slams the book in frustration knocking his head against the table. "Is this what happens to people who go missing?" Christian says gloomily turning his head to the side staring at the wall.

Dr. Carol lays his hand on Christians head as he slowly flips through pages while lighting a cigarette. He says nothing for a moment. "You will be more shocked the longer you live."

Graham strolls over to Dr. Carol who has smoked all of his first pack. Christian has fallen asleep on the books. "So who is it that you are looking for exactly? You been here almost the whole day Carol..."

"He is this lanky little optimistic asshole named Alex. He is old fashioned as hell and likes to dress like a beatnik you know all black? For now I am with him."

"So what happened to Steel? I thought you liked her spunk."

"I am still with Steel, but for now I agreed a temporary alliance with Alex. It's not we expected him to just be taken..." Dr. Carol said with heavy bags under his eyes. His glasses glaring against the soft light of the room, he is fully concentrated on the words with each page.

Graham pats him on the back going back behind the counter. Dr. Carol stands up slamming the table with his hands waking a groggy Christian. "I found it well something, but we need to act fast."

He runs over to Graham slapping the file on the desk. He examines the photo and file. No purchase yet in the attachment. "So this is him?"

Alex is photographed blindfolded unconscious in a woman's arms. His head is tipped to the side trying to get him to sit up right. Various numbers are written on the page. "I need to copy these for me. Where can I sit the bidding?"

"I will give you the addresses, but remember you didn't get it from me." He says roughly jotting down notes on school ruled notebook paper.  

Dr. Carol stuffs it in his pockets, but takes the scanned pages to put in a dusty folder he snags from Graham. "I owe you one soon. Thanks."

Christian trails behind Dr. Carol who is some reason much faster than previous. He makes his way down the stairs jumping in the car. Christian hops the back. "You found him?"

He flings the files on Christian's lap who opens it appalled. "What will they do to him?"

"I mean anything could be happening to him right now. Right now we just got to check the addresses Graham gave me. He is a seller yes, but he isn't horrible as you might think."

"Why do you know him Dr. Carol?"

"Hmm..." Dr.Carol takes a long drag on his cigarette before flicking the bud out of the window. "My half-sister was taken by these guys when I had become a doctor...but she was killed. It is part of why I decided to become a vampire..."

The rest of car ride was mainly silent. Christian felt sorry he asked, but cleared up how he knew that shady guy, they make it to a large hotel with signs posted outside. They were about to walk inside when they were stopped.

"Excuse me you need a ticket to be allowed inside to this event." The doorman pressed.

"So this is a private event? At four am?" Dr. Carol asks.

"Yes sir, private auctions are happening at this hour as to not cause disturbance."

"Understood, thank you." Dr. Carol replies turning around pulling out his phone. He speaks low enough so Christian could not understand him. He shifts his attention back to the door man. "May I ask you to look at the digital VIP list please?"

The doorman activates his ipad for updated list instead of paper identifier that lays on a board to his side. He doesn't say anything allowing them inside the hotel.

Everything is draped in black going inside. The attention is to the main hall where women and men are lining up in well-dressed clothing. Christian marvels as they pass through the halls.

"I assume if you were human you have never seen anything like this at all." Dr. Carol snickers to himself. Christian looks away embarrassed.

They view a line on the other side of incoming line of people blindfolded being lead in by rope being fed in to coax them to move forward. Their hands tied behind their back. Christian moves forward in shock seeing Alex from a far.

Dr. Carol stops Christian from going any further shaking his head. He looks at him in disbelief. He quickly see's the woman who was there in the photo with Alex. His feelings of rage wanted to consume him, but he cools down by closing his eyes breathing in and out.

"I understand your pain Christian, but you cannot let this get to your head...Alex's life in endangered. We are vampires and shouldn't even be here...please be patient."

Christian stops himself. They get seated. The lady from the photo is now dressed up in a long glittery gown. "Welcome to today's auction, today we will be showcasing about thirty new arrivals. Most of them are tagged. If you buy any untagged you can call our help desk."

Another man dressed in a navy blue suit comes forward. He takes the microphone. "Hello, we will be going over the lists you should have gotten earlier at the help desk. This list is alphabetical before we go to the subjects." He announces clearing his throat before continuing. "Now please if you will look at your guides."

"Dr.Carol...what is tagged mean?" Christian asks grabbing his arm squeezing it tightly. He gently releases his hand.

"It's a spell...if he has it then he is going to be hard to deal with..." Dr. Carol replies nervously.

Christian starts to get to get tears in his eyes. He lets himself out to get fresh air while Dr. Carol does his best by staying in the bidding. Christian stretches his arms and legs when he catches the woman outside with a forlorn look on her face.  

He peeks over to see her crying. She stops him from with her hand extending out. "I can feel you...please stay away."

"What are you talking about?" Christian unsure how to respond stays his distance as she requests leaving him to kick his feet around a little bit while she brings out a handkerchief to quietly stop herself from crying in front of a stranger. "So why are you crying?"

"Because..."

"Because?" Christian questions inching in a little bit towards her, but she scooches away.

"I don't even know you! Why would you even care?"

"I am not good at reading people, but based on what you said. It must be similar to why I am here..." He replies shyly.

"I already know you are vampire...I sense you got someone in there. If you get caught you are going to be on that list."

He decides to get closer holding his hands out. "But...you won't tell anyone will you?"

"Are you new or something? I am a witch..."

"A witch, you are much too pretty to be a witch."

She folds her arms and turns away. "You really are new to this. You are an idiot."

"But maybe a cute idiot to you?" Christian responds with a grin. She glances over to him with a half-smile. "But really, you were crying. Please tell me why?"

"Well..." behind them the ground shakes causing the woman's heels to snap against the hard dirt. People start to shovel out. Christian tries to reach her as she is swept away by people crowding. Christian starts to take height by jumping up on the top of the roof.

He staggers to keep straight, but falls on the ground running inside the building despite the huge amount of smoke leeching out. He covers his mouth. Something touches his shoulder. "We need to get out of here now..." Dr. Carol whispers.

"What happened to Alex?" Christian asks, but Dr. Carol refuses to say anything grabbing his hand. They wait in the car a moment. It is almost six am and he usually rests like a normal vampire. He lays his head against the wheel closing his eyes.

"Wait...you are effected by sun?"

"Unfortunately...when I turned I was using very old DNA from an older version of vampire compared to if I had just modified the weaknesses..."

Christian gets out of the car to have Dr.Carols arms rest over his shoulder to set him in the passenger seat so he could sleep. They find a cheap motel with curtains dark enough. He has to kick the door open to get Dr. Carol inside.

He slings him on the bed. He is so lethargic he is unable to keep his eyes open. Christian sits at the edge of the bed with his hands supporting his chin. He takes a pillow and sleeps on the floor instead of trying to think.

He wakes up to Dr. Carol still sleeping. He walks over to see a different woman in the lobby than earlier. They look into each other's eyes when slowly she stops what she is doing. Christian waves his hand in front on her face; she seems completely out of it. "Wait did I do this...?"

"I never knew I had this ability?" Christian whispers to himself. All the sudden he could feel his heart beat and thump erratically before he knew it he was digging his fangs deep into her neck. Everything seems to swirl in his head next when he is on the ground pushing away with legs to someone screaming.

"Christian..." Dr.Carol whispers pulling him up on his feet, Christian is covered in blood from killing the woman. Her body resting at an odd angle against the desk, her eyes slightly opened.

"We need to leave now!" Dr. Carol shouts jerking Christian from the spot. They vault to the car in a rush. They hear police cars in the distance. He waits till they are a long ways away before he stops. Christian is absolutely dumbfounded.

His expression is mainly shock. Dr. Carol slaps Christian in the face before he looks up. "You need to get a hold of yourself. This isn't just a joyride..."

"I...don't know what came over me...." Christian replies looking at his shirt covered in blood.

"You know what I am not going to lecture you. You should know what I mean by now...but I am sure as hell going to go after Alex. He babies you all much too much and you know what?"

Christian guiltily looks down at his lap without saying a word. "...What?"

"He is going to let you get killed this way...look...I am not mad...I am scared for you."

He looks at a paper to double check he is in the right place before getting out and slamming the door. "Where are we?"

He tosses a bag of clothes from the trunk at Christian. "Another auction house, get fucking changed before they suspect us, we have no time to waste on this."

Dr.Carol casually strolls in this time with no bells or whistles. The building is almost collapsed tilting to the right uneven. Christian stares in awe getting out.

"Why is this place so different than the other one?"

Dr. Carol puts his finger to his mouth. He quiets. "I am looking for a lanky boy in all black? Was he brought here?"

Several people review papers on the desks and under. "I think so...come this way please."

They open a room far in the back. Many young men dressed in rags with their eyes covered chained to an overhead beam. Christian dunks his head going under the doorway.

Their fangs have been capped. A young lady dressed in violet is playing a harp. They all seem tranced. Her pointed hat painted in a darker purple with black lace ribbon is peacefully playing with her eyes closed.

The people in charge hold their fingers to their mouth. Christian briefly views the captives swaying slightly left to right almost in harmony. Christian can feel himself shaking. Dr. Carol lays his hand on Christian's arm.

He can sense his discomfort with the situation. Dr.Carol spins around to walk back through the doorway dragging Christian. They meet at the desk. "Looks like I don't see him here. Thank you for your time."

They wave as they go leaving the place. "Alex wasn't there was he?" Christian chimes.

"No...there is one other place I would like to check. After that...we need to take a break to think."

The place is not much further from where they started. It's a rundown Victorian home with a little modern re-touch. The place is nearly empty. Dr. Carol rings a large brass bell in the corner of the door. A man comes out.

"Are you a buyer?" The man in a suit asks.

"Yes, may I check your books?"

"Oh we do not do books anymore..." He said looking side to side sneakily before waving them back. "We have some temporaries getting tagged if you care to join me."

"So is this why I don't see witches much anymore?" Dr. Carol laughs watching another young witch dressed in long gown tied with a ribbon at the hip, but her gown is a slightly deep ruby red color. Her hat is completely black. Her hands are creating the slave tattoo on an older vampire's neck.

"We mainly hire them for slave work. Usually they are still training which is why they are very pretty younger women. Usually they are looking to improve their medium even if they disagree with our work."

Dr. Carol is looking around the room with Christian. A man that fits Alex's description is found already tagged. Christian lifts his blinds as he is titling inwards. He is deeply sedated. "Alex! Alex wake up!"

The man comes over in a hurry panicking. "His tag isn't activated yet. Please stop shaking him plus he is already been bought."

Dr. Carol glides over. "Who bought him, if I am allowed to ask?"

The man checks his mini book in hand. "I am sorry it seems we are not allowed to say..."

Dr.Carol swipes it from the man who is outraged. A large man comes in. Christian points forward. "Samuel! You bastard." Christian growls.

"I am ready for the activation..." Samuel says with a smirk on his face.

"Come this way please. Just push your blood print against his throat. It will take a few seconds."

"No Alex..." Christian mumbles heartbroken seeing him glow being claimed. Dr. Carol gets in front of Christian to stop him from going further. Samuel walks over to them after showing in a nurse to carry out Alex.

"Stop Christian...I know what you are about to say. Don't you dare think of giving up your freedom to Samuel..." Dr. Carol glares.

They watch Samuel leave with guards. They make it outside watching him be loaded in. Christian not being as acrobatic pushes Dr. Carol aside to slam himself against Samuel butting his head against his back scooting him a little forward.

Samuel turns around seeing Christian angry. The owner of the shop loads his tranquilizer gun. "You are disgusting Samuel."

"You are a vampire aren't you? We basically took a queen bee of a vampire hive it sounds." The shop keeper states shocked. "If you harass a good paying customer I will shoot."

Samuel takes Christians hand twisting it. While Alex is being heisted away, the shop owner shoots Christian in the back multiple times before he swings a weak loose punch landing on his face. Dr. Carol stoops down to pick him up knocking the needles off his back.

He waits till Samuel is fully out of the room without a word. "Look you sold our clan leader to an asshole, he is upset and should be understandable. You are literally black marketing living breathing beings. Just because you are human must make you feel something special." Dr. Carol huffs.

"Wait...you are that famous doctor that disappeared. You gave up your humanity?"

"Certainly has made my life interesting, but please continue to sell my brother. Ignore we have sort of humanity."

"Look...I was hired here for good money. It's not that I don't believe you all don't have a right to live. I am just trying to feed my family here."

"Keep telling yourself that..." Dr. Carol states closing the door behind softly.

https://www.wattpad.com/1073653102-chronicles-of-alex-fighting-against-eternity Please support my wattpad if you like my works please~

[deadcactuswalking]

REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 17/04/2021 (Polo G, Dave, Doja Cat & SZA, Taylor Swift)

Okay, so, UK Singles Chart time – all hell broke loose. I knew Taylor Swift and Dave would make an impact but I was also not expecting all of the chaos to come with it. With that said, Lil Nas X is still at #1 for a third week with “MONTERO (Call Me by Your Name)” and let’s just get through with this. This is REVIEWING THE CHARTS.

Rundown

In this starting rundown segment, I’ve got a lot to cover so I’ll make it quick, no nonsense. First of all, I cover the UK Top 75. Why the top 75? I’m difficult – even though it’s actually more convenient. Secondly, the notable drop-outs – songs that peaked in the top 40 or spent more than five weeks on the chart that are gone from the top 75 this week thanks to this avalanche of 14 or so new arrivals. This week, we say goodbye to a bunch of our debuts from last week as well as “telepatía” by Kali Uchis, “Bringing it Back” by Digga D and AJ Tracey, “You’re Mines Still” by Yung Bleu and remixed by Drake, “Midnight Sky” by Miley Cyrus, “Watermelon Sugar” by Harry Styles, “Mr. Brightside” by the Killers and several #1 hits, including “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac, “Sweet Melody” by Little Mix, “Mood” by 24kGoldn featuring iann dior, “Dance Monkey” by Tones and I and finally, “Someone You Loved” by Lewis Capaldi, after spending a whopping 113 weeks in this region... despite being terrible. I mean, it’ll be back next week but celebrate the little victories, like our returns, for example. “X Gon’ Give it to Ya” by the late DMX is back at #72 after the passing of the hip-hop icon last week. This legendary song was actually one of his later hits – not even a hit in the States – and originally peaked at #6 in the UK back in 2003. We sadly don’t see anything else from DMX returning but we do also see Taylor Swift’s re-recorded version of “Love Story” revisiting the charts at #45 off the album boost.

Now for the songs that fell or rose this week, starting with the notable losses, being songs that dropped five spots or more. First, we have “Your Love (9PM)” by ATB, Topic and A7S at #13, followed by “Don’t Play” by Anne-Marie, KSI and Digital Farm Animals at #17, “Hold On” by Justin Bieber at #20, “Save Your Tears” by the Weeknd at #22, “Up” by Cardi B at #23, “Commitment Issues” by Central Cee at #25, “Latest Trends” by AI x JI plummeting at #28, “Patience” by KSI featuring YUNGBLUD and Polo G at #29, “drivers license” by Olivia Rodrigo at #34, “We’re Good” by Dua Lipa at #35, “Anyone” by Justin Bieber at #40, “Black Hole” by Griff at #41, “All You Ever Wanted” by Rag’n’Bone Man at #43, “WITHOUT YOU” by the Kid LAROI at #44, “Binding Lights” by the Weeknd at #46, “Goosebumps” by HVME and Travis Scott at #47, “6 for 6” by Central Cee at #48, “Medicine” by James Arthur at #49, “Head & Heart” by Joel Corry and MNEK at #50, “Met Him Last Night” by Demi Lovato featuring Ariana Grande at #54 off of the debut, “Paradise” by MEDUZA and Dermot Kennedy at #58, Doja Cat’s “Streets” at #60 and “Best Friend” with Saweetie at #61, “Tonight” by Ghost Killer Track featuring D-Block Europe at #62, “Get Out My Head” by Shane Codd at #63, “Beautiful Mistakes” by Maroon 5 featuring Megan Thee Stallion at #66, “Track Star” by Mooski at #67, “Headshot” by Lil Tjay, Fivio Foreign and Polo G at #73, “What Other People Say” by Sam Fischer and Demi Lovato at #74 and finally, whatever’s left of Drake as “What’s Next” is at #68 and “Lemon Pepper Freestyle” with Rick Ross is at #70.

Our gains are arguably more interesting, as it’s impressive to climb five spots or higher or reach the top 40 for the first time in the midst of all this nonsense. Therefore, we do have just a few gains, those being “Runaway” by AURORA at #51 off of the debut, “Nice to Meet Ya” by Wes Nelson featuring Yxng Bane making a surprise attack at the top 40 going to #39 off of the debut, “Good Without” by Mimi Webb at #18 and “Ferrari Horses” by D-Block Europe and RAYE continuing its gains up to #16. That’s pretty much it – still took a while – so let’s get through those 14 new arrivals, huh? God help me.

NEW ARRIVALS

#75 – “Marea (We’ve Lost Dancing)” – Fred again.. and The Blessed Madonna

Produced by Boston Bun and Fred again..

This is one of the songs that really padded out our new arrivals list – to explain, a lot of the time, these songs were released weeks ago and only now gain enough traction to debut within the top 75 and hence be discussed by me. This one just happens to have popped up in a week where everything is going on already so it kind of gets lost in incoherency but regardless, this is a song from Ed Sheeran’s producer Fred Gibson, who I refuse to call by his stage name, from his most recent project featuring vocals from The Blessed Madonna, most commonly known right now as the producer and DJ behind the club mix edition of Dua Lipa’s Future Nostalgia and hence the “Levitating” remix with Missy Elliott and, well, actual Madonna. The song itself is one I’m surprised is about anything but has these mostly spoken word vocals about how we as a world have “lost dancing” to the COVID-19 pandemic, as well as hugs, and, well, that’s all she decides to elaborate about. She also guarantees that once everything is over, “what comes next will be marvellous”. Whilst I appreciate the sentiment, I think it’s almost a dangerous promise, given that we’ll be in this pandemic for longer than anyone expected and it’s pretty evident that we’ll still be keeping to social distancing as the vaccine roll-out continues all throughout this year. At this point, we’re still in lockdown and international travel will still be stunted for years after the fact. This song feels like The Blessed Madonna getting on her pedestal about the arts and their impact on people without going into any detail that warrants the soapbox, bizarrely over some synth-heavy deep house beat that decides to do little more than flutter through the entirety of the five-minute runtime. Yeah, this is pretty insufferable. Next.

#71 – “Slumber Party” – Ashnikko featuring Princess Nokia

Produced by CallMeTheKidd

Okay, so TikTok picks this one up and the label then decides to push this over “Deal with It”, a brilliant pop song that was right there and already had the high-budget video to boot? Regardless, this is taken from Ashnikko’s debut mixtape of sorts, Demidevil, and whilst as a whole the project does little more than act as harmless fun guising as anything more, a couple of the singles are genuinely pretty great, including this one, which seems to be a break-out hit for rapper Princess Nokia. This song relies on the jerkiness of its almost DJ Mustard-esque club beat and that warped might-be-a-flute loop to support Ashnikko’s similarly sloppy delivery, which decides to be as in character in possible – of which I mean that it is obnoxious and frankly ridiculously stupid. This isn’t a “slumber party” at all, and whilst the childish implications are if anything kind of unnerving, there is a lot of fun to be had here if you get past the “kawaii hentai boobies” in the chorus. Nokia’s verse continues the album’s general early 2000s aesthetic with her referencing many hits and singers from that time period in a pretty slick albeit one-and-done verse that should really be extended further than it is. I mean, I would have preferred that to Ashnikko’s second verse comparing her girlfriend to the little girl from The Addams Family, before mentioning how her eyes go black when she orgasms and that her spit tastes like Juicy Fruit gum. Okay, so when it comes to filthy lesbian rap I think I prefer acts like BASSIDE but for what it’s worth, this is surreal and fun enough for me to like. I hope it does well, but know she has better songs even on that same tape.

#69 – “Versus” – SL and M1llionz

Produced by Lucas Dante and Yng Cld

Oh, hey, another drill track by two guys produced by two guys for two guys to rap about how cool it is to be the two guys they are. I guess the gimmick here is that the single actually has an instrumental version as well for whatever reason; I guess they want people to remix the track. That would make sense, as this beat is immediately recognisable from that chipmunk squeak of a glitched vocal sample they use. In fact, I think I prefer the instrumental version because when those booming 808s come in, it hits really hard especially with the scattering drill percussion. SL and M1llionz are trading bars here in what is basically one verse and it’s not like they’re saying nothing of interest here as there is a viable enough amount of detail here in these bars about exactly what you’d expect. But that’s exactly what it is: exactly what you’d expect. By the first verse, you’ve already heard SL talk about watching The Boondocks and that’s about as interesting as it gets. Sure, the interplay between the two guys in this case is pretty smooth, but it goes on for about a minute too long and M1llionz has a lot more charisma than SL so it does feel like half the song is wasted away. The producers know that too, as they decide to fade the song out very quickly after M1llionz stops rapping his final bars. This is fine – on some days, I’d probably call it really good – but it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.

#64 – “Starstruck” – Years & Years

Produced by Mark Ralph and Nathaniel Ledwidge

We’re not even out of that bottom third of the chart and we’ve still got a lot ahead of us before we get above that point. Here, we have “Starstruck”, sadly not the Lady Gaga or 3OH!3 song but instead the first officially solo song by Years & Years, which is now just frontman Olly Alexander after his bandmates’ departure, similar to Panic! at the Disco except the members seem to be on good terms, or Ritt Momney, except no one here is a Mormon missionary... yet. Whilst you could see this from a mile away if you had listened to that last album, it would be deceiving to say it’s only Olly this time around as he’s enlisted several outside producers and writers to craft a pretty straightforward love song. Well, is it any good? I’m not entirely sold on it, mostly because it seems to reject all of the lyrical intrigue there was in those past two albums – at least intermittently – for a pretty generic if not pure and lovely content, with the most interesting of lyrics being about sipping his partner up like cosmic juice, which I’ll admit got a laugh out of me. It is fitting for how this janky dance-pop song sounds as sonically it’s kind of a quirky mess with a lot of bassy grooves in the verses only to be replaced by a shiny synth blend that completely shrouds the chorus in video game sound effects and French house-esque filter effects. This sound is very much a late-2000s early-2010s throwback in some ways and throwing it back even further in others, which creates an interesting sound but not enough to not let this become easily stale after just the second chorus, especially if it’s going to purposefully fumble its climax for an awkward build-up that involves basically revealing the drop measures before it should have. Yeah, I want to like this but it just seems kind of confused as it is. I’m still going to listen to that third album whenever it comes, but I’m somewhat disappointed with this lead single thus far.

#57 – “Lingo” – Deno featuring J.I. the Prince of NY and Chunkz

Produced by Da Beatfreakz

Alright, so British rapper Deno has enlisted New York rapper J.I. – who I refuse to call by his full stage name – and Chunkz, who I’m pretty sure is some YouTuber, to hop on a beat from DaBeatfreakz, specifically this watery R&B beat with vocal loops drowned out by bass and some awkward mixing. Deno isn’t much of a presence in the verse or chorus, J.I. talks about some girl not chewing him right and Chunkz, who sounds awful on any beat with the whiny Auto-Tuned mumble, somehow doesn’t say anything of interest despite being the semi-professional comedian of these three guys, or at least not before Deno takes over his verse and they all give up for the last couple measures. Yes, that was one sentence – this song doesn’t deserve much more.

#56 – “Shy Away” – twenty one pilots

Produced by Tyler Joseph

I’ve never been that big a fan of twenty one pilots, but I was actually pretty fond of her most recent album, Trench. What fascinates me about them is how they seemed to have done really well for themselves that one time in the Blurryface era and have coasted off the success of that to fund some of their more out-there and experimental musical aspirations. I don’t think they’re looking for big hits anymore – which is good because this won’t be one – but people will always be looking out for what they do next, and they’ve just announced a new album coming soon with this as the lead single. Thankfully, it’s not that COVID-19 pandemic pandering from last year which got on my nerves a lot more than it should. “Shy Away”, instead, goes for... 1980s dance-punk, because, of course. I do love that jerky synth lead and how well it’s backed by that chugging bass and percussion, which we’ll always know is organic coming from Josh Dun. The song itself is a somewhat vague motivational track but not for no reason, as these lyrics actually originated from when Tyler Joseph was giving advice to his brother, a budding musician, trying to get him to see himself in a new light and find his unique purpose in music and not to “shy away” from continuing with his dreams. I can get behind that, especially if it’s going to have squealing guitar segues, an infectious power-pop chorus that will probably not leave my head for a long time and the excellent swell of guitars in that third verse before the brief breakdown in the post-chorus with all those squibbling synth effects. It’s just a wonderfully constructed song on all accounts, even if it sacrifices some of that unique personality we usually get from Tyler for the sake of making a tighter pop-rock song.

#52 – “You Belong with Me” (Taylor’s Version) – Taylor Swift

Produced by Taylor Swift and Christopher Rowe

I guess the best place to start with these re-recordings is the original song, which I’ve never liked. I’ve never seen a reason to enjoy Taylor’s entitled adolescent whining over some pretty garbage production making what may as well be organic country instrumentation sound like MIDI tracks. She doesn’t deliver a particularly good vocal performance, or at least one good enough to excuse “She wear short skirts, I wear T-shirts, she’s cheer captain and I’m on the bleachers”. There isn’t enough detail to make this seem like a toxic relationship so she ends up just sounding bratty. This new version, from a matured Taylor Swift a decade later, has decided not to change any of these lyrics and it just sounds worse coming from a Taylor who clearly knows a lot better and is in a happy relationship. Okay, the instrumentation sounds a lot more organic and has more of a groove than it used to, with some more intricate production moments that are cool, but that’s really the only change that improves on an already mediocre song. Taylor’s voice has improved a lot since that original recording but so has she, and her selling these lyrics with as much conviction while in her 30s just ends up sounding sad. It only makes sense to “reclaim” these songs if you’re going to try and make them your own again, and not representative of someone I don’t think Taylor is anymore. Alas, it’s listenable, but this could have been one of the more interesting re-recordings and nothing was done with it past the better mixing and a pretty epic guitar solo, even if it does feel unwarranted by the content.

#42 – “Way Too Long” – Nathan Dawe, Anne-Marie and MoStack

Produced by Scribz Riley, Tré Jean-Marie, Nathan Dawe and GRADES

For someone who is solely a producer and DJ, I say that’s two or three too many credited producers, but regardless, before we get to more Taylor Swift, which we will eventually, we’ve got some leftover house track with B-list stars that starts with the words, “Hey, yo, yo, it’s Stack Rack”. With that said, I actually kind of like this song with its strings swelling more than the usual track and its bass-heavy club groove in the verses being more complex in its percussion, especially when the sound design is that interesting in the second half of the verse as all of these effects and different synth patterns occur in the back of the mix, which kind of lets me forgive how anti-climactic the drop is. It’s not really an EDM song as much as it’s a light-hearted pop track and Anne-Marie isn’t taking it as seriously as she could, especially on that vocoder-drop chorus, which makes the song a lot more fun that it should be. MoStack is who really shines on this track though, as his verse is – probably unintentionally – very funny, as he twists the meaning of the song to a phallic joke, happily engages in monogamy, particularly with every British pop-star he can think of and says “forget quality, I want quantity”. He just lists famous singers by the end of this verse that he finds attractive and is completely gone off the deep-end by the time he’s ignored by Anne-Marie’s swell of a chorus. It’s not a great song and definitely falls into the traps that most EDM does but as it is, it’s a fun track with a surprisingly hilarious and sloppy guest verse from MoStack that I was not expecting, as well as just being inoffensive across the board.

#33 – “Mercury” – Dave featuring Kamal.

Produced by Manny Manhattan and Kyle Evans

Dave released a double A-side single – or at least whatever the equivalent for that is in the streaming age – and this was the less popular track, “Mercury”, with singer Kamal. If you don’t know Dave is, he’s one of the biggest and most celebrated rappers in the UK and this is his first solo release since 2019. I’ve usually been pretty happy with Dave’s releases – hell, Psychodrama was one of my favourite albums of 2019 – but I’m not entirely sure I can endorse this lazy trap beat relying on some gentle but overbearing pianos and groovier bass knocks. Really, the beat is pretty minimal so we can focus on what Dave’s saying, right? Well, we could, but why would we want to? Sure, there’s some good wordplay weaved into here and I don’t dislike his stories about gang violence and paranoia, even if they’re delivered in the most checked-out almost condescending way possible, but I can’t get behind the misogyny that seems to run a lot deeper than it does in typical rap. Sure, he makes the same googly-eyed observations about attractive women, describes some parts of the sex but interestingly not any part he plays, and also describes her as a “work of art”, but this is all after he dismisses women in general for not “forgiving him for his sins”, in some thinly-veiled Ariana Grande reference that leaves me more pissed off than he is, especially since Dave’s not as self-aware as he thinks he is, particularly because he himself can barely forgive himself for his wrongs in that second verse. Instead, he shrouds it in hedonism like any other rapper – what have the women got to do other than make good decisions for themselves about who they sleep with? He doesn’t go into disgusting detail like Digga D on “Toxic” but it rubs me the wrong way, especially if he’s going to then complain about the myth that is cancel culture. If this comes from a genuine place where he was genuinely attacked for something he didn’t deserve the abuse for, I’d understand, but why even complain about the supposed mob of Twitter users when the only tie you have to it is something reported on your brother by the right-wing press that everyone ignored? Other than missing the point terribly, it’s not like this song is catchy or notable. Even he acknowledges that this five-minute bore wouldn’t make the album, and it’s for good reason.

#32 – “Anywhere Away from Here” – Rag’n’Bone Man and P!nk

Produced by Rag’n’Bone Man, Mike Elizondo and Ben Jackson-Cook

So this is Rag’n’Bone Man’s second single from that upcoming album, or at least the second to chart, and after the surprisingly great post-punk rocker that was “All You Ever Wanted”, I’m excited to hear what a duet with P!nk could sound like. After all, they’re both rougher voices in the pop sphere, even if P!nk’s been doing it for much longer. Sadly, it’s a ballad... not to say they can’t do ballads well but this is a pretty minimal piano-lead track with some really badly mixed vocals from Rag’n’Bone Man as he channels an unintelligible Dave Grohl that’s way too loud in the mix, especially when the strings come in and cloud the mix. I do like the content once again with Rag’n’Bone Man as he continues to discuss the careless days of his youth, but this is more about growing older and eventually growing discontent with that lifestyle and each other, just wanting to be somewhere else. P!nk delivers this in a way that’s a lot more flattering to her voice and the instrumental, but when the borderline choir vocals come in with those terribly-mixed harmonies between the two and that pointless bridge, I give up on this song. It just refuses to go anywhere, I’m sorry, and it had a lot of potential but these voices don’t particularly mesh together especially over some basic piano and strings. This could have been great and as is, is less than mediocre.

#30 – “Mr. Perfectly Fine” (Taylor’s Version) (From the Vault) – Taylor Swift

Produced by Taylor Swift and Jack Antonoff

I didn’t listen to the re-recorded version of Fearless; instead I just listened to the six or so bonus “from the vault” tracks because that’s the only new content and I’m not big on any of it. It sounds exactly as you’d expect a 31-year-old woman reciting lyrics she wrote and shelved when she was a teenager, not even thinking they were good enough to release then, decades after the fact, and most of the songs just aren’t interesting at all. I think “Bye Bye Baby” is a great pop song but besides that there’s nothing much to enjoy in these tracks, at least from me. I know that Taylor’s biggest fans will love how she re-recorded leaked and rumoured songs that had been circulating but as someone detached from that, it does nothing for me. This song in particular is about Joe Jonas, because, of course, it was, and it’s a petty, sarcastic break-up song Taylor should be able to deliver confidently but ends up falling flat based on almost that awful verse melody alone, which is just janky, unpleasant and stretched out to the point of annoyance, especially if it’s going to be produced this well. She dug up this track seemingly only to get Antonoff on the record, and, sure, the chorus is catchy and has that one great moment with those crashing guitars, but it enjoys killing its momentum as soon as it gets going... for five minutes. Yeah, I’m sorry but I’m not interested in what was left on the cutting room floor a decade separated from the release of this re-recording, especially if this fully-fleshed instrumentation does little more than distract from how dreadfully boring this song is. Wake me up when she re-records Speak Now or especially reputation, because that will truly be fascinating.

#10 – “Kiss Me More” – Doja Cat featuring SZA

Produced by tizhimself, Carter Lang, Rogét Chahayed and Yeti Beats

I’ve forgotten to mention that three of those 14 new arrivals actually debuted in the top 10 this week, meaning, yes, whilst we’re nearly done, we’ve still got a lot to cover and we start with what seems to be the lead single from Doja Cat’s upcoming album, as she enlists SZA to assist her on this classily unclassy disco-pop song. Those main guitars do sound great, especially with Doja’s signature cooing over them, and that’s before we get to that slick pink disco groove not dissimilar to “Say So” but with a tighter, fun bassline and how quickly Doja strips off the subtlety. I could do without that mess of a post-chorus that is just a blend of too many, not very great vocal takes, but I do love how it leads into Doja’s unsubtle sex bars that actually go into some interesting detail, but not as much SZA being kind of filthy but also delivering a pretty great vocal performance, even if she starts with asking her partner for that “gushy stuff”. I do find it odd that it decides to censor “dick” of all words, but this production is great and I actually particularly like that final chorus and post-chorus once SZA starts harmonising on it. As is, it’s a pretty tight and likeable disco jam from two charismatic performers... co-written by Dr. Luke. Goddamn it, Doja, I don’t know what contract he’s got you in but Jesus, someone do something about that.

#9 – “Titanium” – Dave

Produced by Kyle Evans and P2J

This is our second Dave song and obviously the more successful of the two, at about three minutes shorter – thankfully – debuting in the top 10. It’s much better than “Mercury”, even if the song literally starts with him bragging about not needing vibrators to make his girlfriend orgasm. That said, the lyrics here are actually a lot slicker, flowing much like he did on “Streatham” as he lists so many precious metals you’d think he’s Bender. I do like the intricacies in these lyrics, even if he doesn’t really adapt it into any wordplay. He mentions how awkward that it is that his neighbours are going to vote Conservative as he brags in an almost freestyle-like structure in the single verse he spits, which has a couple flow switches and a lot more empty space than it should for a beat this awkwardly mixed, as whilst I like the trap percussion here, it really does not sound that great over borderline MIDI pianos. The little string inflections and drum fills here are cool though, and those intricacies are what makes Dave’s verse so interesting, as he foreshadows his bar about Tyson Fury with an ad-lib that Fury used himself as a build-up for his boxing matches. His JAY-Z references are also on point and pretty clever, it’s just that there’s still not much to this past that and I’m left pretty underwhelmed with these releases from Dave, even if they’re not from that next album, whenever that’s coming.

#3 – “RAPSTAR” – Polo G

Produced by Einer Bankz and Synco

Well, Lil Tjay debuted at #2 a couple weeks ago so I guess it’s only fair for his fellow “Pop Out” rapper, and the one I personally immensely prefer, Polo G to have his surprise, kind-of-out-of-nowhere top 5 debut. Much like “MONTERO”, this track was being teased for nearly a year, having first been shown as an acoustic collaboration with professional ukulele player – yes, seriously – Einer Bankz, who’s also credited with production here, in May of 2020. Just shy of a year afterwards, we get “RAPSTAR”, in the same vein of other all-caps trap songs about musical success like “ROCKSTAR” or “POPSTAR”. Maybe next we’ll get “NEOCLASSICAL DARK WAVESTAR”. Regardless, this song is basically just about being epic and Polo G can effectively sell that even in his more basic flexing because of that intermittent detail like when he says the only woman he talks to is Siri, which isn’t even a brag or a flex, more a sad admission of his crippling loneliness which I don’t think was intended. He also does more than empty flexing, discussing his past drug addictions and how he coped with that alongside all of the struggles he had to overcome at the same time. That second verse may start with him saying he’s 2Pac reborn but it goes a lot deeper into his anxieties than I expected. All of this is over a melancholy guitar-based beat with some great bass and better mixing than is expected of these pop-trap singles, even if it’s still far from perfect. Those eerie vocal loops in the background add a lot to this song and I think that chorus has a pretty great build-up, even if the percussion may seem a bit too basic and uncomplicated as an effective drop. I can’t really complain about this at all, though, as it is really good for what it is and I’m glad it’s this high.

Conclusion

And with that, I’m finally, FINALLY finished with scouring through these new arrivals and I’ll admit that it was less of a mixed bag and more of a generally positive week, at least for me, as I found more I liked than anything I disliked, particularly with Best of the Week as that goes to twenty one pilots for “Shy Away”, with the Honourable Mention going to Ashnikko’s “Slumber Party” featuring Princess Nokia, although there’s a lot to praise on the charts this week. In terms of Worst of the Week, it’s probably going to go to Fred again.. and The Blessed Madonna for “Marea (We’ve Lost Dancing)”, with a Dishonourable Mention for, sadly, Dave’s “Mercury” featuring Kamal. I would like to note that Taylor Swift was awfully closer than she should be to getting that this week. Here’s this week’s top 10:

What to expect from this week? Gosh, I don’t know. AJ Tracey? Young Thug? Either way, we’ll see whatever happens to all this – whether it gets flooded out or they all end up sticking around – next week, so I’ll see you then. Thanks for reading.