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whumpwritings · 2 years ago

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Home Sweet Home?

@whumpsday has this excellent ongoing story, Kane and Jim, which I have read many times (master list here). A while back he posted an AU where Kane's friend Bellamy saves him from the hunters (here) and it made me wonder how it would go if Bellamy tried to save him from Jim instead. Last Friday I decided I should just write it. And, because I have no chill, it is 11,531 words long.

Hilariously, on Sunday @whumpsday actually posted a version of this idea as well (see here). I'm so glad I'd already started writing or I'd have chickened out. His version is set much closer to the beginning of the story. I didn't tie mine to any particular story events, but I was envisioning it being set closer to the events of Basement or Heat Wave (or a bit after that) when Kane and Jim have had time to build a routine.

Because this is an AU fanfic I may have made errors in the lore and unfortunately Bellamy is a bit OOC to make the story work. Please indulge me.

Home Sweet Home?

Summary: Bellamy tries to do a nice thing and everyone has a bad time about it.

Words: 11,531

Content Warnings: recapture, PTSD triggering, begging, vomiting, it as a pronoun (briefly), panic attacks, interrogation, kidnapping

Apparently, tumblr will only let me have one 'read more' link per post, so please be aware this is a VERY long scroll.

******

Bellamy wasn’t supposed to be there. He tried to remember how he got involved in this at all as he stared at the blank and bloodied hunter at his feet.

Things had gotten a little out of hand.

The hunter had been caught near the border, that much he knew. The vampire who’d caught him wanted the finder’s fee more than a personal bloodbag. The farms pay very well after all and keeping a personal human was logistically challenging.

Bellamy had been passing by when the kerfuffle at the gate started. The finding vampire’s persuasion slipping. (He didn’t seem to be very good at it, Bellamy thought). The realization growing over the hunter’s face. His desperate struggles.

It was a sight to see, so he stopped. A spectacle’s a spectacle, even if this was sad. The farms usually kept any…unpleasantness behind closed doors.

Bellamy had recoiled when the intake worker waved him over. He’d been so tempted to refuse to be an extra pair of hands for this. Helping the farms was not something Bellamy was at all interested in. Frankly, he was rooting for the human.

But then the hunter said, “Fuck you, you deserve to be in our fucking cells alongside that other fucking leech!”

What could he say? Bellamy loved a mystery. Almost as much as he loved drama. A captured vampire? One who was kept alive? Who? Why?

Bellamy couldn’t help but imagine Kane for a moment, slain on the border. Probably not by this individual human, but by hunters like him. His heart sank. Had they called him a leech while he lay dying? Perhaps this human, out of all of them, deserved less mercy than he generally held for the species.

Given the obvious hunter attire, the farm intake attendant had insisted on asking the human questions. Perhaps it knew the movements of other humans near the border. Such information could be useful. When Bellamy offered to keep him talking, the worker had accepted, and they’d retired to a small room off the gate. And now he was looking into the persuasion-calmed eyes of the human and wondering how his day had turned out like this.

“It’s resistant to persuasion I swear!” The finding vampire kept complaining as though that was the problem.

The intake worker just rolled his eyes at Bellamy before making the first vampire wait outside. He’d had Bellamy ask the hunter a series of questions about the border. His hunting associates. Their plans and movements. Any new tools. The worker took notes while the human droned. Finally, finally Bellamy got to ask the question that had brought him here.

“The vampire in your…cells, is it still alive?”

Bellamy saw the worker scrunch up his nose in disgust. Who cared about a vampire weak enough to be caught by humans?

“Dunno, we gave it away.”

“What did you do to them before they were sent away?” Bellamy asked since the worker was starting to look impatient. That made him click his pen. Techniques were something worth noting. The life of a weak vampire wasn’t.

The human began the most horrifying list Bellamy had ever heard. His wildest nightmares were never this vicious. His imagination couldn’t have conjured the dreadfulness necessary. The worker’s pen moved rapidly as he took notes with wide eyes.

“And then we strung him out in the sun on this rack. We told him we’d come get him at nightfall, but we lied. The guys thought it would be funny to tell him that so he’d think an end to the pain was coming when it wasn’t. We left him for a week instead. The next time we hung him out for a little tan Chris told him that if he was silent the whole time, we would bring him back in at nightfall. He always screamed when he sizzled though…”

Bellamy swallowed hard.

“Why would you do this?” He asked before he could help himself.

“It was fun. It was what a leech deserved for all the pain they cause.”

Bellamy noted with bitterness how the hunter couldn’t seem to separate this one vampire from the actions of vampire society as a whole.

“Well now,” the worker snapped his notebook shut. “This has been enlightening. I think given this one’s…resistance to persuasion he’ll have to be moved to the Awake section. I wonder how many of these techniques could be adapted to use on humans? I’m particularly interested in this choking device he mentioned. Perhaps with acid to simulate the effects of silver?”

The worker gave Bellamy a sadistic smile that he was meant to share. Just two psychopaths with an inside joke. The torturer becoming the victim and having his methods used against him. How droll! Bellamy managed to choke down his bile long enough to produce an unconvincing smile.

“Just one more question. When you sent the vampire away, where did you send it?”

“Gave the bloodsucker to his victim. Famous guy. Almost no one comes back once the leeches get ‘ya, but Jim Lieberman did. He deserved to end that fucker himself. Well,” the human chortled, still bespelled, “and the leech gave less sport after a few years. Less fun that way.”

Bellamy’s whole body went cold at the name. Caroline. He needed to talk to Caroline.

“Thank you for your assistance today, sir. In recognition of your help, we’d like to give you this gift certificate. It’s good for a month supply of blood packs.”

Bellamy took the envelope out of the worker’s hands numbly. “I must be getting home now,” he heard himself say. “Have a lovely evening.”

Bellamy didn’t remember walking out of the office. He didn’t remember the trip home or coming in the door. The next moment he had he was sitting on his kitchen floor. Caroline kneeling beside him, a look of concern written all over her face.

“Years ago, we went to a party and met Kane de Sang,” he said softly. “His human asked you to call someone for him. Did you end up doing so?”

“Yeah, sure. Oh Bel, what’s going on?”

“What was the name of the person he had you call?”

“Elizabeth Lieberman.” Bellamy supposed it had been a weird enough occurrence for the details to stick in her mind even all these years later.

“And his name was Jim, right?”

“Yeah, her brother. He just wanted me to make contact. Pass along a message. What’s this about, Bel?”

“I think…I think Kane might be alive. Or…if he isn’t, I know who killed him,” Bellamy whispered at his hands. Caroline clapped her hands to her mouth. She didn’t need to ask to know what he was going to do next.

It actually took weeks. Bellamy was nearly out of his mind with stress as he tracked down the house of Jim Lieberman. Procuring a phonebook had been risky and, as it turned out, fairly useless. Unlisted.

Hunters near the border had been more forthcoming. Liberal use of persuasion certainly helped. Frustratingly, they never seemed to know exactly where Jim lived now. Tidbits of information leaked out though.

There was a book about him. About surviving Kane. People admired him for it in human society.

His sister was a hunter and some of them had met her in passing. She lived close to the border for work.

All the hunters who knew about the situation assumed Jim killed Kane once he had been given to the human. They all seemed to think this was justice.

More than one confessed to having met the vampire without persuasion. One was able to confirm that he’d called himself Kane. Bellamy hadn’t needed proof exactly, but it helped lighten his burden to know he was on the right track.

He asked each hunter who had met Kane what they’d personally done to him. He wouldn’t make the mistake of treating every human as though they were responsible for his friend’s pain, but he would find out which ones were.

Those ones died bloody.

Elizabeth Lieberman’s house wasn’t as hard to find as he’d feared. He observed it carefully over several nights, retreating over the border before daybreak each time. No sign of Kane or any other captives. No sign of her brother. He’d tried to follow her car once, but he was no tracker. It wasn’t like he was practiced at any of this.

On the fourth night of hunter house watching, Bellamy saw the pink-haired person leave alone. They were dressed as a hunter, and they usually came and went with Ms. Lieberman. Bellamy assumed this was a colleague. Maybe they would know where their hunting partner’s brother lived? Or have clues Bellamy could follow?

It was the work of a moment to slip into the front seat of the hunter’s car.

“Drive away,” he commanded to the startled human. Driving under persuasion was probably unsafe, but the road had few cars. It was after dusk in a border town after all. He directed the human until they were on a wooded lane, far from any houses. “Pull over.”

“Where does Jim Lieberman live?”

The hunter rattled off an address immediately. Bellamy blinked. He dove for the glovebox and was pleased to find what he needed. With paper and a little pencil in hand, Bellamy asked again.

Bellamy swallowed hard. He had what he needed. Finally. But there were more questions to ask.

“Do you know of the vampire that was given to Jim?”

“Yes.”

“Is he still alive?” Bellamy’s voice broke on the last word. His persuasion wavered for a moment under the onslaught of his emotions, but he held it with difficulty.

“Yes…are vampires technically alive? Like the old movies would call them undead, but my science teacher in school said they’re just a different species…He’s whatever he was before though.”

Bellamy stared at this strange human. What an interesting mind. He had never had one muse while under persuasion before. For a second, it distracted him from the momentous news just imparted.

Kane was alive. Alive. Not slain all those years ago. He still had a chance. But there was more information to glean here before he made his move.

“What have you personally done to Kane?” He asked, steeling himself for the answer. These were always the most monstrous of tales. He would have nightmares once this was over for sure. Hell, he’d already started having them.

“I beat him at Uno,” the hunter said. “I let him win at Monopoly. He had a good grasp of real estate and he seemed like he could use the confidence boost. But there are no friends in Uno.”

Huh. That was…unexpected.

Bellamy felt suddenly cheered by the turn of events.

He had a location. Kane was alive. Kane was alive.

Maybe this hunter could drive him to Kane? No, running would be faster. It didn’t sound like they were culpable for the atrocities his friend had experienced. To be sure though…

“Did you hurt the vampire? Did you hurt Kane?”

“No…no need. Jim had things well in hand.”

Bellamy frowned. That didn’t sound as good. Still. Bellamy hated to kill. Until recently he’d never taken a life. It didn’t sound like this was one he needed to take at least. And if Kane said they were one of his tormentors, well, Bellamy could always find them again.

“Forget what questions I’ve asked you.” He had to put more oomph into this command than most. It wasn’t good for a mind to delete memories, but it shouldn’t do lasting damage to their brain. He couldn’t risk the Liebermans getting tipped off. He couldn’t risk Kane.

Bellamy dropped the persuasion once he was out of reach getting out of the car.

“Holy fuck!” the hunter yelled as they came to, already scrambling for the weapons at their belt.

“Thank you for the ride. You’ve been most helpful,” Bellamy said, leaning through the car door. “I hope you have a pleasant rest of your evening.”

The hunter stared at him incredulously before he vanished into the night. Jim’s house was further from the border. He had to move if he was going to get there and back before daybreak. Bellamy ran faster than he ever had in his life.

Jim stared at the garbage bags Kane had neatly piled by the door during this afternoon’s chores. Kane had seemed nervous about him opening the door while he was still upstairs, even in the next room. The sun was so close. So, Jim had put it off. He meant to take them out earlier, before full dark. But he got busy and forgot. Only they needed to go out. They were in the way, and they kind of smelled. If they were a touch stinky to him, he wondered how bad they smelled to Kane’s superior senses. Probably awful.

The garbage cans were just outside. Around the corner of the house. It wasn’t far. He was home. It was safe here. They weren’t that close to the border. Surely, he could manage taking the garbage a few steps away from his door. He wasn’t some baby, scared of the dark. He could do this.

Only, when he went to heft the bags, they were so much heavier than Kane made them look. Duh. It would take two trips. Jim suppressed a groan.

Bellamy crouched in a tree near Jim Lieberman’s house. No sign of Kane. Although someone was walking around inside. Someone was home.

The way here had been more perilous than he’d expected. Apparently, this area was well-patrolled by hunters. He’d had to skirt around a few groups. Hopefully, Kane was up to travelling, or this might get complicated.

The door to the house opened. Jim Lieberman stepped out onto the lawn, something in his arms. He was older than Bellamy remembered. It was strange watching the way the years gradually left their mark on Caroline, but this was even more jarring. Humans changed so rapidly.

There was nothing for it but to ask, Bellamy supposed.

Jim felt the crawling sensation of being watched as he walked towards the bins, huffing a little.

It’s all in my head, he thought to himself. Just the hypervigilance talking.

Still, as he put the lid back on he chanced a glance at the woods at the edge of the lawn. Nothing. Just limbs creaking in the light breeze. The feeling was so intense though. He walked quickly but stiffly back to his door. Trying not to sprint.

A weight lifted from his shoulders as he closed the door behind him. Nothing bad happened. Nothing bad was going to happen. He was home.

Jim felt silly. He was glad Liz wasn’t here to see him fussing over walking ten paces from his door. Honestly, he should be able to do better than this. This was pathetic. He was pathetic. Jumping at shadows.

He resolutely picked up the second bag of garbage, thankfully much lighter than the first. He could do this. He opened the door with one hand and looked straight into the eyes of a vampire.

Jim had time for a single moment of pure terror before his mind slipped away.

Bellamy only had one question for Jim. “Where is Kane?”

Jim blankly pointed at a door made of silver. It was locked, but it was more of a latch situation than one where you needed a key.

“Open it,” Bellamy said softly.

Kane was already waiting at the bottom of the steps, frowning towards the door. He’d probably heard something was happening.

“Bellamy?” His voice came out high pitched with shock. It was the sweetest sound Bellamy had ever heard.

Then Kane’s eyes rolled up into the back of his head. And. He. Just. Crumpled.

Bellamy was at his side in an instant, cradling his friend to his body. Kane was alive. Alive. Now he just had to get him home.

Bellamy carefully picked him up. He was far too light. He felt thin in Bellamy’s arms. Insubstantial. Not how Kane should be.

He scanned the room for anything of note. It looked almost like a bedroom, if one ignored the silver door and the restraints sitting by the stairs. No torture devices though. Perhaps a positive sign? After the horrors he had heard, however, Bellamy was not willing to make assumptions about how Kane had been treated here. How he had suffered over the years! It was too much to bear thinking about.

Nothing stood out as an object he needed to take with them. Maybe the papers on the desk? Bellamy wished Kane would wake so they could discuss it. Discuss anything. Everything.

Like what Kane wanted done with the human still standing, hypnotized in his own kitchen.

Looking at this cell, Bellamy didn’t think Jim fell into the same mindset as the hunters who had confessed to him so far. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t hurt Kane. At the very least, he was keeping him against his will.

Kane deserved to have his say against his captor. But Kane wasn’t awake just now to have that moment. That closure. The angry, bitter Kane he’d seen at the reunion would want revenge. But time had passed. Things could be more complicated than Bellamy knew.

All Bellamy knew was that he wouldn’t take that choice away from Kane. Whatever was going to happen next had to be because it was what Kane needed. After all Bellamy now knew he’d suffered, Kane deserved that much agency.

Jim’s terrified face appeared in his memory. Begging for help. Begging for consideration from the first kind vampire he’d met. Jim probably didn’t deserve what Kane might do to him. Probably.

Without input from either of them, it was impossible to do anything here. It would have to wait.

The sun would rise, and they would be trapped here for another day unless they moved now. They had just enough time to get back to Vampire Territory if they hurried. But Kane was out for the count and the woods were full of hunters.

Bellamy tapped his foot impatiently. He could wait out the day. Hopefully Kane would wake up, and they could plan together. But his friend was angry and impetuous and might refuse his help. Jim’s hunter sister might come to visit. Or other human visitors. They would be trapped by the sun and unable to escape if set upon before night fell again. Kane was too fragile and too important for such a conflict. No, they needed to leave.

Bellamy eyed the keys by the door. They could take a car. Running would be faster, but not if he were carrying Kane and dodging hunters. Bellamy was useless at driving though. It was impractical when he could just run normally, so he’d never really gotten good at it. Caroline enjoyed driving, so occasionally they would go out in a car. But she would drive. This did not solve his problem.

Jim could drive. He owned the car after all. A car with a human driving wouldn’t stand out as much as two vampires running through the woods for sure. Jim and Kane still needed to have a conversation. So, Jim would come along. Solved.

Bellamy was pretty sure he could convince Kane to return Jim to Human Territory once they’d talked. So long as he really wasn’t as bad as the other hunters…and if he was, well.

“We’re going for a drive.”

Jim woke up in his bed. No…not his bed. Not the one in his room, in his house, in his home. He woke up in his bed back in the human quarters of Kane’s house.

Oh, so it’s going to be that dream, he thought. Still half-asleep, Jim furrowed his brow at a hole in the wall. He didn’t remember that one. Kane always had him plaster over the holes he punched in the walls. This one was un-mended. It was also dusty. As in, there was dust in the hole like it had been punched years ago.

Jim rolled over. His pillow was dusty too. The bedspread under his hands, coated in a layer of grime that came off on him as he moved. Jim sat up slowly. Dread pooling into his stomach. The floor had dust bunnies. Kane would have never allowed it to get like this when he lived here. He would have been ordered to clean it.

The bed creaked in a terribly real way as he tentatively put his feet down on the very real feeling floor. Jim pinched himself as hard as he could. Still here.

Jim leaned over the side of the bed as all the dread in his stomach came pouring out his mouth in waves of vomit.

He was back.

Kane was dreaming of home. Home in the hateful house, in the hateful territory, with no one and nothing.

Except not so much. In this dream, Bellamy was sitting beside his bed, stroking his hair.

“Bel?”

“I’m here, darling. You’re safe.”

Kane let the words wash over him. This was going to be a good dream. He sagged back onto the silk sheets, relaxed for the first time in so long. His eyes slipped shut again.

Jim heaved until his stomach had nothing left, then he heaved some more. Finally, belly aching fiercely, he curled in on himself, pinching his arm over and over. He had to wake up. This couldn’t be happening.

His breath came faster and faster until it wasn’t coming at all. He sat up, gapping like a landed fish, heart pounding. His vision blackened around the edges until darkness took him.

Jim woke up on the floor of his room in Kane’s house. He sat up in panic, but the room was empty. He gingerly rose to his feet, checking himself for injuries as he went. He was as whole as he’d been at home…so far.

His head hurt as he strained to remember. Making dinner at home. Locking Kane in for the night. Routine good nights. Nothing had felt amiss. Taking…taking out the garbage.

The vampire on his stoop. Holy shit. Oh, God. He’d been taken. Right from his house. His knees went out from under him, and he ended up on the floor again with a thump.

That’s going to bruise, Jim thought, feeling a little hysterical. If he really was back under a vampire’s thumb, bruised knees would be the least of his worries very soon.

Nausea roiled him again, but there was nothing left in his stomach to lose. He needed to think. He needed a plan. Panic couldn’t keep him safe here. He needed to find a way to be safe.

The room hadn’t changed much since the last time he was there. His things were as he left them. The few books he’d been allowed stacked by the bed. The record player sat in one corner. The walls had a couple of new holes that he didn’t remember. Probably Kane having a tantrum after he’d escaped. The dust made sense if no one had been here since Kane…

Who had taken him? The vision of the vampire on the stoop swam in his mind’s eye. He had only seen him for a moment before the hypnosis had sunk in, and the horror of it all was making it hard to think clearly just now. His memory felt blurry.

Why take him back to Kane’s rather than to their house? Another shudder of horror ran through him. If this was supposed to be psychological torture, it was working.

Jim pushed himself off the floor. He needed out of this room. He couldn’t feel his body, but he could see himself moving towards the door that led into the kitchen. The light bulb flickered when he hit the switch but didn’t immediately go out. That was good. This room had no windows. If he were plunged into darkness just now, Jim knew he would flip.

This room was the same. Dusty. Unused. Small signs of damage. The kitchen table had been kicked into splitters at some point. Another reminder of the power of Kane’s rage Jim did not need to see right now.

He dug through the debris for something—anything—to use as a stake. The wood was rotten soft though and most of the pieces were small. He found one that might work at the very bottom of the pile. He poked at the end experimentally. It bent a little.

Jim suddenly pictured trying to stab Kane, old Kane, in the heart and having the wood bend rather than impale him. He dropped the stake like it burned him. Too risky.

Jim staggered to the door that led into the vampire’s part of the house. He knew it would be locked. It was never left unlocked. But everything else here was surreal so maybe…

It was more that he had to try. He would never forgive himself if he didn’t at least check and it turned out he had a chance. He reached towards the doorknob—

“Which arm did you use to open the gate?”

Jim flinched and spun wildly to look at the room. Empty. Still empty. But he’d heard…It was Kane’s voice. But Kane from back then. Tears slid down his face.

He wasn’t here. He wasn’t.

But he was…somewhere. Actually, that was a great question, where the fuck was Kane? Still in his basement at home? Wondering where breakfast was? When Jim was coming down?

Liz would find him, Jim comforted himself. When Jim didn’t answer the phone for a bit, she would come around to see what was up. She would find Kane. He wouldn’t be trapped in the basement, slowly starving.

Jim left the door untouched for the moment. He would try again when his arm stopped shaking. Instead, he went to the fridge.

Unsurprisingly, it was empty. Cleaned out at some point. Still running though. The building had power at least. Why he couldn’t say, he was just grateful. He checked the cupboards. A few tins and boxes of dried goods. Very expired. Maybe if he was desperate and no one came…

Jim’s eyes slid to the door again. He needed to know. He rubbed his bad arm as he walked towards it. Kane wouldn’t need to know he tried the door. No one was even here to see him do it.

Jim touched the doorknob. He swallowed hard and twisted. It rattled. It didn’t turn.

A sob choked him. Jim squeezed his eyes tightly but the tears escaped nonetheless. Right. He was locked into the human quarters of Kane’s house. Just like he’d been for five years. Just like he was in every goddamn nightmare.

He resisted the urge to crawl under the bed. It didn’t help. Kane—or his new mystery vampire master—would just drag him back out. No, he needed to be smart about this.

Jim jammed himself into the corner of the room as hard as he could. He drew his knees up under his chin and buried his face. He would be smart about this once he could stop crying.

Kane woke up again. This time was more confusing. The sheets were still silk. Bellamy was still sitting by his bed. His bed. In his house. In Vampire Territory. He felt the first pang of alarm go through him.

“Good...” Kane trailed off, hoarsely. What time was it? Was it a good morning or a good night or…?

“Hello there.” Bellamy smiled gently down at him. He sounded real. “Back with me, darling? I must confess, I have no idea why you’ve been unconscious this long, or truly why you lost consciousness in the first place. I suppose it was a shock seeing me. It’s been a while.”

Kane let those words wash over him, only semi-taking them in. Back with us. A shock. Seeing Bellamy.

“You…you were on the stairs. The basement stairs in Jim’s house. You were in Jim’s house!” The alarm pang was now a clarion call echoing in Kane’s brain. He couldn’t think through it.

“I came as soon as I could. I swear to you, darling. The moment I knew there was a chance you were alive, I was on my way. I am so sorry that I didn’t know about your situation earlier.”

Kane’s eyes filled with tears. His friend had come for him. Even after decades of hostility and silence. Even after all the things he’d said during their fight at the reunion. God, and his situation—

“Bellamy, you were right,” Kane blurted. “You were right about everything. Humans. Vampires. Me. I was a monster. I deserved what I got.”

Even as he said it, Kane could picture Jim shaking his head. Jim’s voice in his head telling him torture was wrong, even for him. No one had more right to hate him than Jim, and even he thought what Kane had been through was too much, taking things too far.

Bellamy shook his head ardently. “No! No, my friend, you didn’t deserve that. No one does.”

“You know?” Kane hated how small his voice came out. How he automatically shrank into the bedclothes.

Bellamy nodded mournfully. “The hunters I questioned gave me some details. Not all that you’ve suffered, I’m sure, but enough to know that the monsters in this situation don’t have fangs.” Bellamy hesitated before adding, “I’m sorry I learned of your experiences without your permission. It was not my intention to pry.”

Kane huffed out a bitter laugh. Privacy was something he hadn’t been afforded with the hunters. Anyone and everyone could watch what they did to him. It was a spectator sport. Not a secret. Still. Having another vampire know felt…strange. Like he wasn’t wearing enough clothes. Kane reflexively pulled the blanket closer to his body. He always felt better covered.

“If we could keep the details between us, I’d prefer that,” he said finally.

Bellamy immediately crossed his heart. “In the interests of full disclosure. I first heard the story from a bespelled hunter. He didn’t name you, but I pieced together enough to guess. A worker from one of the farms also heard the story, but he wasn’t paying much attention to your part of it. He just wanted to know what weapons they’d used.”

A bitter knot formed in Kane’s chest. It was good that it wasn’t a public story in vampire territory—another thing to mock him with— but it was also a reminder that vampires didn’t care about what happened to the weak. And Kane had always been weak. He knew that now more than ever.

Bellamy cared though. He cared enough to put the pieces together. He cared enough to track Kane down and stage a rescue. He cared enough to keep his secrets. Kane’s eyes filled.

“Oh, darling, I’m so sorry,” Bellamy murmured.

Kane couldn’t help it. He reached for his oldest friend, desperate for connection. Bellamy scooped him into his arms like they were seventeen again. Kane bawled into his shirt, wailing with abandon.

Jim lifted his head from his knees at a faint sound from above him. Crying? Maybe? He shuddered. If there was truly someone else in the house, he was running out of time. He needed a plan.

Jim tried to think. Attacking was suicide, and he wasn’t ready for that. Escape was impossible for the moment. The door was locked. He had no idea what time it was. He was days away from the border and very likely to run into another vampire while on the run. He’d been insanely lucky the first time. Maybe he could try again but not right this moment.

Jim swallowed hard. If he couldn’t escape, then maybe he could negotiate. There were a lot of small things that would make being here…more bearable was not the phrase for that. Less of a screaming horror?

Perhaps his new master would be reasonable, Jim thought dully. He was a trained bloodbag after all. He knew how to behave. Jim flinched at the very thought.

Then he flinched again when a new thought followed on its heels: why wasn’t he still hypnotized? Did it just wear off? Would the vampire come back, and Jim’s mind would just be gone again?

His breathing began to speed up again in panic. He pictured the zombified humans at the reunion, shambling mindlessly after their masters. The conversation about long-term effects of persuasion. After a few weeks under, there might not be much of him left to come back.

Jim wiped angrily at his eyes. He couldn’t lose it. Not now.

Kane’s brother had wanted him at the reunion. Wanted him because he was un-hypnotized. Because he was still capable of fear and pain.

The bile rose in his throat again. If that was why his mind was his own just now…he was in for a painful captivity. Then again, if it meant he kept his mind…

Jim weighed both sides. Both options sucked so much. None of this was fair.

It was probably too much to hope for that the vampire would let him use a blood-draw kit to feed them. Jim felt woozy at the thought. Maybe, maybe they would let him use a knife rather than bite him. Watching him slice himself might count as entertainment. He clutched at his neck. He just couldn’t bear being bitten all the time again. Or at all.

Okay, okay. Jim squeezed his eyes shut. Focus. Small things he could ask for. Negotiate for maybe. Kane had always been reasonable about some things. Food, for instance. Maybe the new vampire would be as well. No need to panic yet.

What could he ask for?

Kane’s sobs subsided eventually. He lay, cradled in Bellamy’s arms. Feeling safe, fully safe. When had he last felt like that?

Kane’s eyes drifted shut. That much emotion was exhausting. A shudder ran through him.

“Are we in my house?”

Bellamy cleared his throat awkwardly. “Yes, I—I bought it after you…um, died. It’s not very well taken care of. I’m sorry for that. I couldn’t bear to be here, but I couldn’t bear to leave it with your family either.”

Kane leaned back so he could look at Bellamy’s face. “Died? So, they think I’m dead?”

Bellamy nodded gravely. “You were believed killed in Human Territory. Many are after all,” he added quickly.

Kane appreciated his friend’s attempt to soften this. He assumed everyone would think he was dead. It was a little humiliating that the last chapter in his story was being killed by humans while incompetently trying to kidnap one without persuasion. The Kane from a decade ago would have been mortified. But now…he’d had so many greater humiliations. He just didn’t care. Okay, a small part of him twinged, but it was easy to suppress.

“I’m sorry,” he said instead. “Bellamy, that was the one thing I wanted to tell you these past few years. You were right about everything. I was an ass, and I’m so sorry.”

The tears began to pour down his face anew. Bellamy clutched him closer, rubbing circles into his back. A comfort which made Kane feel like he was about to shatter.

“I’m sorry too,” Bellamy whispered back. “I shouldn’t have pushed you that day. I knew how much a reunion like that must have meant to you. How stressed you must have been. It was the wrong time to rehash old arguments. I lost my head.”

Kane gave a watery laugh. “Can we start over?”

“Why, yes, good sir,” Bellamy put a false joviality into his voice. “So lovely to meet you. I’m Bellamy Verta.”

“I’m Kane—” he broke off, unable to finish. He hadn’t been a de Sang in…well, had he ever really been?

“Wonderful to meet you, Kane.” Bellamy saved him, his eyes kind and knowing. Kane’s lips wobbled. He was a mess.

“I should get up. What time is it?” Kane blinked around for a clock. He was reluctant to leave this intimate, dream-like bubble of Bellamy comforting him. Bellamy being here at all. But it was exhausting, feeling all these things he’d tried not to feel over the years.

“Middle of the afternoon, I’m afraid. We got to the house around daybreak, and I had to hustle us inside.”

Kane felt cold. He’d been that close to being outside during the day? A bubble of hysteria welled through him. He pushed it away as hard as he could. Bellamy didn’t let that happen though. Bellamy kept him safe.

Kane opened his mouth to thank him when his eyes landed on a familiar green jacket. He pointed at it wordlessly.

“Oh that? I took it off you before putting you to bed. It didn’t look comfortable to sleep in.”

Kane’s heart sank.

That’s yours to keep, alright?

Sure, Jim had given him. But it was his father’s. A precious possession.

Kane’s eyes filled again. Jim was so generous. He’d been nothing but kind to him. He deserved the world. Not for a vampire to steal his deceased father’s possessions. He still remembered how upset Liz had been when she’d first seen him in it. She’d capitulated once Jim argued for him to have it, but he remembered the fury in her eyes that he was even using it.

And now he’d run off with it, without even asking. It…it needed to go back. The thought hit him like a train. He needed to return it to Jim at the very least. He needed to thank Jim for all his kindness. Again. As many times as it took. He needed to make things up to him.

The thought occurred to him that he didn’t really want to be back in Vampire Territory. The safety of a land with no hunters appealed, to be sure, but he wanted to be safe with Jim. Somewhere free of the judgement and scorn of his family and peers. He was better off dead to them. Jim’s presence had almost become a safety blanket for him, and it felt weird to simply leave. This had been such an overwhelming moment—waking up in his house with Bellamy—that it had taken his mind a bit to catch up.

Bellamy was looking between him and the jacket with concern.

“Jim,” Kane whispered. He was unable to finish the thought. There were so many things he needed to say about Jim—to Jim— he couldn’t figure out how to begin.

“Oh!” Bellamy’s face lit up. “He’s here! Downstairs. When you’re ready to face him. I’ll come along for support if you like. He can’t hurt you; I promise.”

Kane sat up abruptly. “Jim is here?”

Kane’s hands shook as he unlocked the door to the human quarters. It creaked ominously as he swung it open. Bellamy gave him a supportive thumbs up from just out of view. It kind of helped. Bellamy had never been featured in his nightmares.

But this was a nightmare.

Jim was huddled in a corner, trying to make himself as small as possible. Kane knew that position intimately. He had dust in his curls. Tear-tracks were visible on his dirty face. He stared at Kane with wide, shocked eyes.

Kane had sworn he’d changed. That this would never happen. Yet here they were.

Then, to Kane’s abject horror, Jim began to crawl. Slowly, jerkily, he moved to kneel in the same place where he used to always await Kane’s breakfast bite. Jim tilted his head to the side, assuming the position.

Kane could see his full body shaking even from the doorway. Jim’s heartbeat was racing. Jim was afraid. Afraid of him. He hadn’t changed at all. In spite of everything, he hadn’t made anything right.

Jim was floored. The familiar click of the lock was enough to send him spiralling. But the sight of Kane in the doorway? That was the last thing he expected.

It was almost on autopilot that he moved to where he was expected to be when his master came to see him. It felt like a dream. He was literally living one of his nightmares.

Kane took a half-step towards him and that was all it took for him to snap out of it. In a reflex born of years of trauma response, one hand flew up to clutch his neck protectively. Trying to block the site of his scars. His soon to be torn open scars. A sob tried to burst out of his chest at the thought.

His other arm wrapped around his torso, attempting to protect himself from the blows to come. He was with Kane, with Kane. Oh, God.

He knew he needed to drop his arms. Not fight this. Not put up a resistance. He needed to demonstrate he could be a good bloodbag, and quick, or he would be in for a world of pain. But he couldn’t make his arms move. He clutched at his neck hard enough to bruise. It wouldn’t stop his hands from being ripped away, but he just couldn’t. He couldn’t.

Kane could see Jim’s chest begin to heave as he started hyperventilating. The room spun for a moment. This was always how it went in this nightmare. Jim, in his house, in pain, terrified and hating him. Then the hunters came. Kane would try to protest. Say he was making it right, taking Jim back. They never believed him. He always ended up having to go back to his cell. To the burning.

Kane stumbled backwards. Away from Jim. Away from the vision of what would happen to him next. He couldn’t be here. This couldn’t happen again.

Jim watched with wide eyes as Kane wheeled around and disappeared back the way he came. The door to the vampire side left hanging ajar in his wake. Jim tried to get his gasping breath under control. He couldn’t afford to pass out again so soon.

Another face peered around the doorframe at him. The vision of the vampire from his stoop collided with a memory and suddenly he knew who had taken him. (Them?)

The handsome vampire from the reunion. Kane’s friend. The one he’d been so furious with. The one that had a human who was there by choice. Jim swallowed hard. Maybe he could work with this.

The vampire looked between Jim and wherever Kane had gone to. “Well, this is terribly awkward.”

Jim blinked back tears, unable to respond. The situation as he knew it had just altered completely. He was back in Kane’s house, with Kane. The last memory he had of Kane in this place was him standing in the shade of the house screaming at him. Ordering him to return. Telling him what he’d do to him if he didn’t.

He hadn’t.

Jim’s body was shaking violently, and he couldn’t seem to get it to stop. Mentally, he reordered the list of requests he’d managed to come up with for his captor. Assuming his captor was reasonable. Keeping his ankles moved much higher all of a sudden.

Jim sucked in a breath, then another. Kane was different now. Right? It wouldn’t necessarily go back to how it had been. Things had been chill between them for some time. Maybe even friendly. To himself, sometimes, Jim could admit he and Kane shared a bond. Few other people could understand what they each had gone through. It was a weird bond, born of horrible circumstances, but it was something.

Or at least, Jim had thought so. Would it survive this though? Would Kane take the opportunity to go back to how things were now that he was in control again?

Jim could argue that he hadn’t done anything particularly terrible to Kane while he was captive in his basement. Maybe the new version of Kane would be more amenable to requests?

The only other vampire in the equation was one who seemed to like humans a little. Or at least, was less openly cruel with them. He didn’t really know the guy after all. But that was promising.

“I don’t think I’ve seen Kane that overwrought before,” the vampire said conversationally. “And I’ve seen him plenty worked up over the years.”

Jim’s mouth moved wordlessly. He didn’t know what to say here. His ankles, his life, his sanity was resting on how well he navigated this next conversation. And he had nothing.

“Please,” he said finally, his voice already breaking. He didn’t know what he was pleading for. Mercy? Nothing had happened yet. But God, it could. And he didn’t know how to live with that.

The vampire scrunched up his nose. “Perhaps it’s best if you come to the living room. We can all have a chat there more comfortably.”

Jim pushed himself to his feet with a wobble. His body knew a vampire’s command even while his brain was still playing catch up. He was grateful when the vampire turned to lead the way rather than make him walk past him. A shudder wracked his body at the very thought of being that close to a strange vampire. Again.

Please, please, please. Jim chanted in his mind. I can’t do this again. I can’t go back to before.

Bellamy had no idea what to do with this. Mr. Lieberman looked petrified. He’d expected Kane to take the lead here, to tell them what he needed out of this situation. Kane had melted down instead. So now, he had to direct this somehow. Gods, how he wished Caroline were here. She was good at this sort of thing. Or, better than him at any rate.

Luckily Jim seemed content enough to trail behind him. He seemed like a reasonable person. Rather scared just now, but that was understandable. What Bellamy really wanted to know was what Jim—or the others—had done to make Kane react like this, and how could he make it right.

“My goodness, darling,” Bellamy gasped as he came into the living room. Kane was curled into a ball on the couch, mumbling under his breath. Bellamy could hear him clearly, but they weren’t really words. More like sounds with an aspiration to be words one day. Kane stared forward, unseeing. Lost in whatever vision his mind had conjured.

Bellamy took a seat on the other side of the couch from Kane. Jim sank to the floor on the other side of the coffee table, semi-kneeling. He hugged himself tightly and watched the two vampires with round eyes.

“Well, I must confess, I’m not sure how to proceed here. I’m Bellamy. We met before, but you might not remember.”

“At the reunion, sir,” Jim said softly. “You had a human who was unhypnotized.”

“That’s right. My darling roommate, Caroline, was good enough to accompany me to the event. I’m glad you got a chance to meet. And your name is Jim, yes?” Bellamy figured some small talk might ease the tension. Provide time for Kane to return to earth.

“Yes, sir.” The human’s eyes flicked from him to Kane and back. “May—may I ask h-how we came to be here, sir?”

“Yes, I suppose you would have questions.” Bellamy resisted the urge to correct Jim’s formal language. Kane had been insisting ‘his human’ speak like that at the reunion, so perhaps it was a habit best left for now. “I heard my dear Kane might be alive, so I came to check. I’m sorry I startled you so much. Normally, I would ask permission before using persuasion, but I’d had a bad run with hunters in the area. I was worried to start a conflict with you, one that would perhaps draw attention. You understand, right?”

Jim just watched him with those big eyes. He swallowed and nodded, jerkily. He reminded Bellamy of a puppet on strings.

“Well, after you were under, I went to see Kane. I’d planned to wake you up once I’d discovered how he was. But he, unfortunately, lost consciousness upon seeing me, so I was unable—”

“Wait, Kane passed out?” Jim’s brow furrowed. “Has that happened before?”

He directed the question to Kane, seeming to forget his terror in his concern. Kane did not respond. He simply began to rock back and forth.

“O-kay,” Jim said.

“Yes…so Kane was unconscious, and I had to make a decision. So, I brought you both back here where we could be safe while we sorted it all out.”

Jim stared. Bellamy twitched in his seat. Mentally, he was willing to concede that while he and Kane were safer here, Jim certainly wasn’t. That was a tad unfair. He didn’t say this aloud though. The reproach on Jim’s face was enough.

“Alright, so…I’m back,” Jim’s voice broke. He wrung his hands in his lap. “I know I haven’t done anything to—to earn them yet, sir, but may I make requests?”

That seemed to get Kane’s attention. He stopped mumbling and his eyes flashed to Jim, although he still struggled to focus them. Jim flinched at the attention.

“I’d love to hear them,” Bellamy said. Anything to keep this conversation moving until Kane could handle it.

Jim cleared his throat. He glanced quickly from Bellamy to Kane, before lowering his gaze to the coffee table.

“Uh, okay. Umm. Food. There’s no food in the kitchen and if—if I’m to stay then I’ll need some. It’s a necessity,” he added, a touch defensively.

Bellamy nodded. Logical request. He’d have thought of it once he was done nursing Kane.

“A c-clock,” Jim continued. “Any clock will do. Just something to know what time it is.”

Bellamy glanced at Kane. “There aren’t clocks in your side of the house?”

That seemed odd. Granted, he’d never dreamed of restricting Caroline to one section of the house, so the positioning of clocks had never come up.

Jim shook his head, giving Kane a quick furtive glance. Kane had gone back to rocking.

“Okay, I’m sure one won’t be hard to find.” Bellamy shrugged. He wasn’t really sure how long Jim would be here for, but if it mattered to him, they could find a clock. Maybe it held more significance for humans to be near one? He’d have to ask Caroline. Cultural differences could be so interesting.

Jim swallowed hard. “Ummm, look. Last time—I—I ran. And Kane had said he’d….” Jim choked. Bellamy leaned forward, concerned. It made Jim flinch and shrink from him though, so he leaned back. “He said he would make sure I couldn’t run again. Like by smashing my ankles—”

Bellamy looked at Kane, appalled. “Really, darling.”

“—and I just wanted to say that there are other ways,” Jim finished with a squeak. “Restraints and stuff. See, if my ankles are crushed, I won’t be able to cook or anything for myself. I’d need help for a lot of basic tasks. That’s a lot of extra work for…for you. But if you used restraints, I’d still be able to do those things. It would save so much effort for you. Win-win!” Jim spoke quickly, a tone of desperation creeping into his voice. Bellamy felt his heart break.

Jim couldn’t tell if his sales pitch was working at all. He felt on the edge of hysteria, clutching at the last thread of his sanity with desperate hands. Kane looked like he wasn’t even here. Bellamy was listening at least, but who knew if he was actually receptive. Or if Kane would let him have a say in what happened to Jim next. Was he Kane’s human again? Or this Bellamy guy’s?

Jim thought of the one thing he really wanted above all else. It was risky to ask for it, but maybe…maybe. Bellamy was looking at him strangely now. An expression in his eyes Jim couldn’t read.

This may be his one chance though. He had to take it.

“Sir? There was one more thing.” Jim hated how his voice kept cracking. How he couldn’t hide his terror at this situation. Even if they were still just talking. Bellamy nodded encouragingly though.

“I know Kane doesn’t have a phone…but at the reunion Caroline said you do,” Jim started slowly, but the words came faster and faster. “I want to call my sister. Just once. Please. I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye last time, and this time she won’t even know what happened. Please, please. Just one call. Just—just to tell her.” His voice broke for real this time. Jim couldn’t help it. He started weeping.

That seemed to cut through whatever episode Kane was currently experiencing. He sat up abruptly, a move that startled Jim into falling sideways to the floor.

“No,” Kane said, the word crackling with power and anger.

“No to all of it? Or just the phone call?” Jim squeaked, terrified.

“No,” Kane repeated, seemingly so angry he couldn’t continue right away.

Jim shook so badly he thought his body would fall apart. But this was for Liz. He had to try. He pressed lower to the floor, abasing himself.

“Please, please! Just one call! I c-can’t. I need to tell her. I need to. There’s nothing I could say that could get me rescued. Please, man. Sir! Sir,” Jim corrected himself rapidly. “Master?”

Bellamy looked from one to another, alarmed. “Kane, darling…”

“No,” Kane took his head violently. “You’re going back.”

“Back?” Jim repeated. He looked from Kane to Bellamy to the door to the human quarters behind him.

“Right now,” Kane said with so much rage that Jim scrambled for the door to his side of the house. If Kane wanted him out of his sight, he was gone.

The move seemed to confuse Kane though. His expression shifted from outrage to befuddlement. Jim froze against the doorway to the human quarters, still half on the floor. Unclear on his orders. He hadn’t actually been dismissed. Kane might chase him. Beat him. He curled in on himself. There were too many options. He didn’t know what the right answer was.

“It’s still daytime, darling,” Bellamy murmured. “We have a few hours.”

Jim whimpered from his ball. They could do so much damage to him in a few hours. Please, please, God. Please, Mom and Dad. I just want to go home.

Kane didn’t know what to do. His arms hung uselessly at his sides. At some point he had stood up because he was on his feet now. Jim was crumpled into a ball in the doorframe, making small, distressed noises. Bellamy was looking at him in alarm. Probably seeing him for the monster he was for the first time.

Kane felt sick. He…he had to fix this. But how?

Against his better judgement, he walked slowly towards Jim who watched him with huge eyes from between his fingers. His horror at the situation had come out as anger and now Jim was scared. Kane had scared hm. Like he’d sworn to never do again. He tried to think what Jim would do if their situations were reversed.

“Jim,” he said softly, using his name purposefully. “It’s okay. No one is going to hurt you.”

Jim curled tighter like this was trap.

“It’s okay,” Kane repeated.

“Please,” he whimpered, “Please, I’ll do anything you want. I’ll be good, ma-master. Please.”

Jim tensed, clearly awaiting a blow. A continuation of the rage from a moment ago, only directed at him. But Kane hadn’t been angry at him. He was angry for him. He needed Jim to know that.

“The only thing I want you to do is calm down. You’re going home.” Kane turned to Bellamy. “Is my car still here?”

Bellamy shook his head. “I don’t think so. I bought the building as is, with all its objects included, but I didn’t look for a car.”

Kane sighed. “We’ll have to carry him then. I’m sorry, Jim.”

Jim looked a little dazed. “Wait, what?”

“You’re going home,” Kane repeated, trying to keep his voice soft but firm.

“R-really?” Jim’s eyes somehow got bigger. Then, to Kane’s horror, he began to sob anew. “I can—I can—go home?”

He looked at Kane with so much painful hope that Kane’s heart broke. He nodded.

“Thank you. Thank you!” Jim gasped out.

“We’ll only have to carry him to the border. We drove his car that far. It was only last night. I assume it’s still there,” Bellamy put in.

Kane nodded. Jim looked from one to the other, almost frantically. Like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing but was desperate to hear more.

“We’ll go as soon as the sun sets,” Kane told him, as reassuringly as he could. “I can’t…with the sun. The burning,” his voice wavered.

Jim nodded immediately. Of course, Jim understood. Jim always understood.

“I’m very sorry, Mr. Lieberman. It was not my intention to frighten you unnecessarily,” Bellamy said. “I was unable to facilitate a conversation between you and my dear friend while we were still in your home. I was hoping you both could come to some closure before departing each other, so I had brought you here simply for that conversation. I intend you no harm.”

“Me either,” Kane added, in alarm. “You know that right?”

Jim seemed to be calming down. “Yeah…yeah, man, I know. It was just…waking up here. Back.”

Kane shared Jim’s flinch at the thought. That was a horror beyond anything Kane thought he could survive. Waking up back in his cell. Back at the mercy of his tormentors. Jim was stronger than him. He would have been begging for death already.

Jim swallowed hard. “I—I can really go home tonight?”

Both vampires nodded.

“Oh, thank fuck.” Jim buried his face in his knees, seemingly in relief this time.

Closure, thought Kane. Something about that bothered him.

“As I said, it will be a couple of hours,” Bellamy reminded. “Perhaps, since we are waiting anyway, you two could discuss anything you feel needs airing?”

The two of them stared at each other for a long, awkward moment.

Bellamy cleared his throat. “I’ll excuse myself and wait upstairs. Unless you need me?”

He directed this last part at Kane. He shook his head. He was safe with Jim.

Did…did Jim know he was safe with Kane?

Jim sat back against the wall; legs stretched out in front of him once the other vampire left. He was going home. He was. To be sure though…

“You, you promise you’ll take me back? As soon as it’s dark?”

“I swear it,” Kane said with vehemence.

Jim nodded to himself. Okay. Okay.

“I’m going to—” Kane pointed at the couch. Jim waved an acquiesce. The silence between them stretched awkwardly again.

“It’s weird being back,” Jim said finally, looking around the room. He’d spent so much time here. It was familiar, but off. Old clothes that didn’t fit very well anymore.

“Yes,” Kane said. It had to be weirder for him, Jim mused. This had been his whole life.

“Is…is there anything about Vampire Territory that you missed? That you’re excited for?” Jim tried.

“No,” Kane admitted. “I didn’t have much here. …the lack of hunters, I suppose.”

Jim grinned half-heartedly. “I won’t tell Laken that.”

“Please don’t,” Kane agreed with an almost troubled expression on his face.

“They wouldn’t take it personally,” Jim said, aiming to reassure reflexively. “They’ll miss you during the next board game night though.”

I’ll miss you. The thought popped through Jim’s brain unbidden. It startled him to realize it was true. He’d gotten used to having a roommate after all this time. Granted it was a hostage situation, but still. The house would be weird with just him in it.

“Bellamy seems…” Jim actually didn’t know how to finish that sentence. “…like a good friend. Or someone who could be a good friend. Not that it’s any of my business,” Jim added quickly, remembering their fight the last time.

Kane’s expression softened. “He is. He came for me. I don’t know if he’s any good at board games though.”

Jim suddenly pictured the flamboyant vampire pitted against Laken in Uno. That would be a sight to see. He half-smiled at the mental image, but part of him was sad it would never happen. Jim glanced at Kane, who seemed absorbed in his thoughts. He seemed…like Kane. Like the Kane Jim knew. Not the old one. It was probably safe to say…stuff.

Jim tried to picture this as one of their last conversations, and it gave him an odd sense of panic. Like there were things he needed to say, would be upset he didn’t say later, but nothing came to mind exactly. The anxiety of losing his chance felt paralyzing.

“Hey, umm,” Jim swallowed. “I wanted to say…I didn’t keep you locked in my basement out of like, revenge. I didn’t really plan it. I just didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t want to let you go and have you take another human or something.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Kane said immediately. “I will never kidnap another person. If nothing else, know that…please.”

Kane stared at his hands in his lap.

“I believe you.”

Jim was a little surprised to find that he did. Kane looked up and met his eyes searchingly. His shoulders slowly lowered as he found whatever he was looking for.

“Jim, I—I know I’ve said it, but I need to say it again. I’m so sorry for what I d-did to you. I know I can’t ever fix it, but I wish I could. More than anything.”

“I know, man.”

Jim fidgeted. He wasn’t in danger so long as Kane was acting like the Kane he knew. And Bellamy didn’t seem all that threatening personality-wise. But Jim would never be able to relax while in this house.

Part of him wanted to ask to go outside. Get some air. Demonstrate he really wasn’t trapped here. But if he saw that gate right now, he might lose it. And he couldn’t be sure his instincts wouldn’t take over and he wouldn’t just book it. That would be a stupid move when he—allegedly—had a secure trip back to Human Territory planned. Jim took a careful breath. So long as Kane kept his word.

Kane looked weirdly miserable for a guy who just got rescued after years of captivity. Jim felt his heart twinge against his better judgement.

“I—I hope the basement wasn’t terrible for you,” Jim blurted out, no idea where he was going with it. “I know it was…prison and all, but I hope it wasn’t like, awful. The idea wasn’t for you to suffer.”

“I’d have deserved it…if you had wanted to make me suffer.” Kane’s voice was steady, sure of what he was saying, but he shivered at whatever memory his statement dredged up. “I made you suffer after all.”

Jim started to say there was a difference. Kane hadn’t tortured him…but he kind of had. Just…there were degrees here. Kane could have been worse than he was. That didn’t make any of it right. Just…

“No one deserves to suffer like you did. That was wrong. Nothing you’ve done could have warranted it.”

Some tension seemed to bleed out of Kane at the words.

“I’m still sorry,” he said. “For everything, but especially that you had to come back here. Look at all this again.”

Jim gave a shaky laugh, looking around the room. “It’s surreal. But as long as it’s temporary…I guess. I’m going home soon.”

He couldn’t help but glance at Kane as he said it, reassured when Kane immediately nodded.

“It’s weird, man. For both of us. It kinda felt like I handled it better than you did. Coming back,” Jim tried to tease him, lighten the mood. Some part of him knew he was testing the waters. The Kane he knew nowadays could take a gentle joke. The old Kane decidedly could not. Which was he speaking to?

Kane slumped. “Yeah.”

Jim drummed his fingers on his knee. He remembered Kane from back then. Angry. Bored. Friendless. Lonely.

Granted it seemed he had at least one friend now, but…this probably wasn’t exactly a joyous homecoming. Somehow Jim doubted Kane’s family would be knocking down his door in excitement. Kane didn’t have a Liz.

“It was…it was the nightmare,” Kane said in a small voice. “This is how it starts. We’re back here and I’m trying to make it right. Only I can’t. I can’t move. Or you can’t. Or we can’t leave the house. T-then the hunters come. And they take me b-back.” His voice got progressively quieter as he spoke until Jim found himself leaning forwards to hear.

“I’m back here in my nightmares too,” Jim admitted, not for the first time. “You’re…how you were before. And you’re furious with me and I’m trying to fix it but nothing is working. And—and…” Jim sucked in a breath. He dug his fingers into the doorframe to ground himself. “But it’s all dream logic bullshit. That’s not real. I mean, this is but…”

Jim waved a hand at the room, unsure of how to finish. Kane was nodding though.

“It wasn’t…it wasn’t like that when we were together at your house though,” he said, voice still small. “It wasn’t—”

He seemed to search for a word. Jim let him. He didn’t what adjective described that either.

“We were better than we’d been,” Kane settled on finally.

“Well, the bar was low, but yeah—” Jim cracked a half-smile. “��yeah, we were.”

They sat there for a moment in a silence more comfortable than before.

“The basement wasn’t terrible,” Kane said suddenly. “You—you said before that you hoped it wasn’t terrible for me. It wasn’t.”

“Oh,” Jim nodded vaguely. “That’s…that’s good. I knew I wasn’t the worst captor you had, but it’s good to hear—”

“You were the best,” Kane interrupted. “You’re the best human I’ve ever met.”

“Well, Laken.” Jim tilted his head jokingly considering. Kane could be intense sometimes, and it was good to head him off at the pass before he spiralled. It might weird out his friend if he started calling Jim a god.

“Laken didn’t save me like you did,” Kane said, still serious but not spiralling. “They weren’t the one spending time with me every day, feeding me every day. They weren’t…”

Kane trailed off. Jim knew this wasn’t about Laken.

“They weren’t your friend, the way I was,” Jim said. The words sounded firm coming out of his mouth. Like they weren’t the most insane thing he might have ever said. Like they weren’t the most insane thing to have ever happened.

Vampires and humans were not friends. Sitting in this house, Jim was about as far from his comfort zone as he’d ever been save his original captivity. Maybe it had broken his brain?

His words certainly seemed to have broken Kane’s. He was staring at Jim with an expression he couldn’t read. Jim felt a twinge of panic. Was that too far? Sitting in this living room, pushing Kane, had literally never ended well for him. Oh, fuck. Oh, God.

“I think liv—being in your basement—” Kane said, choosing his words with evident care. “—was one of the happiest times in my life.”

Suddenly neither of them could really look at each other. This was weirdly embarrassing.

“You could come back,” Jim said. The words out of his mouth before he’d even thought them through. “If—if you don’t want to leave, you don’t have to. Don’t get me wrong,” Jim added, hurriedly. “I know there’s no power I’ve got that could force you to come back. But if you wanted to be there…”

Jim shrugged. “Just an idea.”

“I could…” Kane seemed to be working through the idea. “No hunters?”

“No hunters,” Jim confirmed. “Fuck those guys.”

Kane twisted a throw pillow in his hands. “Just like before?”

“Just like before. Well, I guess we could discuss the ankle restraints since running off won’t be as much of a concern.”

Kane shrugged one shoulder. “I never minded them.”

He went back to twisting the pillow. Jim glanced at the door, wondering how soon nightfall was. He so wanted to be out of here.

“I think…I think I’d like to come back,” Kane said quietly.

“Alright, man. If that’s what you want.”

A sudden thump from above them abruptly reminded Jim they weren’t alone. The thought occurred to Jim that vampire hearing is very good. Was Bellamy able to hear this whole conversation and was just politely pretending not to?

Kane seemed to have a similar thought. “We should talk to Bellamy.”

Many hours later, Jim watched the dawn break over his backyard. He cradled the phone in his hands for a moment before dialling.

“Hey, Jim, what’s up?” Liz’s voice sounded tired. She was probably just getting home from a shift. “Did something happen?”

“I need to see you.”

“Jim, are you okay? What’s wrong?” She sounded much more awake now.

“Something’s happened. Nothing’s wrong. I need to see you."

****

And that's a wrap! Thank you for reading this very long piece. Please excuse any typos. I wrote much of this in one sitting and editing it was a beast.

#kane and jim #whump #whump fic #whump stories #whump story #k&j #whumplr #recapture #emotional whump #vampire whump #long post #my writing #whumpsday #vampire whumper #vampire whumpee

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gorbalsvampire · 4 months ago

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𝖃𝕴𝕴𝕴 𝕿𝖆𝖑𝖊𝖘 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝕱𝖊𝖚𝖉𝖆𝖑 𝕭𝖔𝖍𝖊𝖒𝖎𝖆

𝔄𝔠𝔱 ℑℑ, 𝔰𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔢 𝔦𝔳

Our story was not set to continue. Then it was. Then it wasn't again. It's been a rough week and half my roof has been rebuilt and I have had one interview out of one hundred applications and aaaagh.

Nevertheless, we stay silly. This was a blinder of a session.

CW: this session featured numerous arachnids, violence against women, and violence against ghouls.

At first, I thought I only had Alzbeta and Theodericus tonight, so we started with a Memoriam. I wanted to go back to Alzbeta's Embrace; I wanted her to know/remember/discover a little more about her sire, and his involvement in the mysteries of Kupala, and potentially to interrogate the Cobweb a little and ask it what the hell is going on?

Six opted to really push this one and attempt all three questions. The Memoriam roll was a pass, but barely, and faced with six Willpower damage or Stains to take, Six took the devil's bargain - no damage, but an immediate drop in Humanity as Alzbeta relived the moment she was trying to forget.

So here's Alzbeta, trying to induce a religious ecstasy; starving herself, aggravating her Beast, naked before the altar and crawling with spiders, praying and praying as she tries to remember. And then there's Alzbeta, as she was a decade ago, after sunset on All Souls' Day, exhausted from three days of commemorative prayer and comforting words, under a hunter's moon and with a killer migraine. Was this really how it happened? Regardless, she heard some kerfuffle in the street, punctuated by horrid, unsteady laughter, and went to investigate. A Carmelite friar, apparently in the process of being forcibly removed from the convent and its environs, being butted by the butts of halberds and - is Sister Berta there? Was Berta with the order then? Is it her speaking, or Archbishop Geza... was there something about Geza, something she needed to remember? Something about habits rent open, a man's hands, bearing down on a pale body before the altar, and blood... Is this really how it happens? In any case, she took the friar under her care - the man had clearly been on the road for weeks, and he was burbling and chortling horribly, averting his face from the stained glass windows. Yet when he spoke to Alzbeta - when she asked him questions - he was immediately lucid. Compellingly so. Even as the spikes and sparks of migraine flared in her mind, Frater Octavio told her what he had seen in Carpathia, what dwelled beneath the world with the mountains as its spine, what spread itself everywhere its children walked, what had reached one long tendril even as far as Prague... its threshold onto the world. He had to warn the world. He had fled. West. Always into the West. He had to warn the world. They bonded, over their torments, and Octavio, for his sins and hers, knowing it was not yet time and he still had work to do... he offered her relief. Relief from the agony of suffering alone. Alzbeta felt her blood rush out, and the world rush in. No Malkavian is alone. All Malkavians know all Malkavians. The Blood flows from fracture to fracture. Malkavians are not insane. Malkavians are simply trying to live with each other, in the knowledge that their thoughts are not all their own. In that moment, she says, she truly found God. This is how it happened.

What a moment. Heartstoppingly good RP from Six. Matched my energy wonderfully. I got very carried away doing Octavio's laugh - Malkavians always do this to me, I have to be really careful about playing them, I get immersed.

Anyway. I'd been planning to explore Theodericus' feeding grounds at last, but another player had now arrived, and I was able to proceed with what had been the plan for last week, when I also knew I wouldn't have Marsillius and needed a short plotline for the other three. I want everyone there for Vysehrad.

Mariam needed justice for the theft of rabbi Zachary's silverware - from his house while his dead body was still warm for G-d's sake! Infuriating. Unable to trace Serena, who was off with her Prince doing Court Business, she rallied Alzbeta and Theodericus, because a Ventrue can solve Ventrue problems and this ghoul's master is an alleged Ventrue, and because Christians let nuns get away with everything, apparently. Mariam was also very hungry, and regretting not eating the thief Jacob when she killed him...

Our trio proceeded to the King's Arms, the new-fangled "inn" at the top of the Lesser Quarter by the River. There, alas, they were intercepted by the alewife's master brewer: Ardan, the Warlock, the unctuous Tremere who so admires Alzbeta.

He made it creepy. Very, extremely creepy. There was some back and forth of social conflict 'twixt him and Theodericus as the young Ventrue attempted to pull rank (Willpower becoming somewhat exhausted on both fronts), and Ardan insisted that while he had to be a gracious host they had to be gracious guests. They were at an impasse, until Alzbeta stepped in and informed him that one, what she had to say was for Count Orsi and Count Orsi alone, and two, she would pray for Ardan that he be rid of these lustful ambitions, for they would never be fulfilled.

Defeated, the Warlock confessed that he had coveted Alzbeta a lot longer than she thought. He had a mind to Embrace her, seeing in her a potential and beautiful apprentice and companion, but he was refused permission - and then some mooncalf of a Malkavian had done the deed first! Unpermitted! Unsanctioned! Unrepentant!

Ardan retreated, not happy about being humiliated on his own ground, and he has now declared nemesis against Theodericus as well (two dot Adversary for him and Mariam).

Up two flights of stairs, which took Ardan's aging ghoul Unonna some time to climb, the coterie was introduced to Katya. She did passingly resemble Serena - dark hair, slender figure, good cheekbones - although Serena doesn't generally dress with so much bodice. Her master, Count Orsi, was a strange one; the velvet and mink of nobility in his dress, but the hands and countenance of a man no stranger to hard graft. A hooked ring upon his thumb, and a sovereign seal Theodericus recognised: this man was a Nymphus of the Mithraic Cult, and Theodericus outranked him.

This was a series of Messy Criticals. Mariam picked up the Hunger compulsion in the first round of social conflict with Katya, accusing her of the receipt of goods stolen from the Jews - before Orsi had even been introduced to everyone! Rude! Theodericus had pushed his Willpower to breaking point and was now running with a Dominance compulsion, not about to back down now that there was a Ventrue of whom he was unequivocally the boss, and he insisted that the story was true.

Orsi surprised everyone by believing this. He had received a gift of some fine antique silverware from his dear Katya, the pride of his collection; he had not known it was stolen. His honour had been brought into question? She had made an enemy of the Nosferatu in Josefov? She had not told him the truth about these goods? She had had discourse with thieves while he was at court? Punishment for Katya! Punishment for wicked ghoul who makes trouble for her master!

Weeping, shaking, Katya opened her mouth as she was bidden, and the hook sank deep, but oh no - the smell of blood in the air pushed Mariam to the very edge of Hunger frenzy, and her audible growl suggested something more... apposite to Orsi. He shoved Katya into Mariam's arms, and did not bother to remove the hooked ring from her tongue; with blood welling up in her throat, the choking girl was too much temptation for Mariam to resist, and she drank.

Mariam would have killed her, had Theodericus not been there to intervene - to seize her by the scruff of the neck and plead moderation. Death, he said, was too much for her. A hiss, and a snarl, and an acceptance, and Katya was dropped. Still dying from blood loss - but not bleeding her last into Mariam's now-acquiescent Beast.

Orsi returned the stolen silver, and bade them leave. He intended to Embrace Katya - to ensure she lived, that she might learn, and live unspeaking, that she might not lie. Alzbeta gave extreme unction (stop that sniggering at the back), and the coterie departed.

Safely away from the King's Arms, Mariam paused a moment. Took Theodericus' hands in hers. Thanked him, for being her restraint, and for his help; and Alzbeta, for hers. They're good people.

#vtm #vampire the masquerade #vtda #vampire the dark ages #chronicle: xiii tales from feudal bohemia #malkavian #ventrue #nosferatu #vtmr #vampire the masquerade redemption

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byenycfm · 2 months ago

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S2E01 Part 0ne - Beacon Of Hope

Where: The Upper Bay When: March 21st, 12pm Who: The Rescue Teams

The neighborhood may be quiet but it's not empty. Step one foot outside of the Wexley and you'll know it: A shadow that moves out of view just before you turn your head, the sensation of eyes peering out from behind broken windows. Thanks to Jeremiah Rose we now know those eyes belonged to scouts from the Long Island raider group. They'd claimed everything past the East river as their territory, nesting in the expanse and preying on what few survivors that still lived. When the military blew the bridges out of NYC they'd effectively cut off Long Island as a result; only it had been too late, those escaping New York already bringing the virus en mass. There was no where to go but towards the coast, where the military eventually fire bombed on day three in attempts to prevent further spread. The raiders had been content to leave the Wexley alone for the time being. They had the supplies they needed and there were other places to hunt survivors for.. entertainment. But Jeremiah Rose wasn't content with a friendly send-off. He had to go and kick the hornet's nest. A few raiders shadowed him back to the Wexley, Roman crossing paths with one and killing him while the other made it back to base. The raiders have been biding their time and waiting for the right moment to strike back when it just so happened to fall into their lap. If they played their cards right they could have everything--the ship, the wexley, and their revenge. With knowledge provided by Jeremiah, Sada Vang has begun making her own moves, attempting to broker a deal with the raiders in return for later favors.

@sadavang has had an invite accepted from the Raider for negotiations, though it's almost certainly a trap. She hopes to make a trade for the survivors safe passage by offering up drugs and weapons from her personal stash... and promise of more for their loyalty to her. // While some of the Raider 'leaders' decide to accept the offer, others aren't willing to negotiate. A gun fight ensues and Sada barely escapes the infighting she purposefully fuels between the raiders who had stayed behind at their base, returning quietly to where she'd left the back door latch stuck open.

@jeremiah-rose and @viesanders are to take the raft and bring gas to the yacht in order to bring it further into the bay, as close to the Wexley as possible. // Jeremiah and Eric make it to the yacht and prepare to refuel and set sail but something seems... off. After a few minutes of exploring they find Roman beaten and bloodied on the floor of the master bedroom and he is able to give them a moments notice of the trap before the yacht's cabin goes up in flames. After surviving the explosion in the cabin, the group is able to sneak up on a raider checking the wreckage. They subdue and decide to interrogate him on the damaged but still floating yacht as the fire spreads and fireworks explode overhead.

@survivalxofxthexfittest(Oscar), @ashton-ryder and @rioreeve are to cause a distraction with fireworks intended for the Wexley's New Years celebration and deal with any raiders they find in the area. // While surveilling the area in preparation for the distraction the team discovers the raiders have already offloaded the ship, and they watch the explosion on the yacht from the shore. They see three survivors being led away at gun point by a dozen raiders. The team decides to carry on their plan and set off the fireworks, hoping the chaos gives everyone a chance to escape. It is up to the muns to decide how many raiders are killed in the kerfuffle, but all the NPC's MUST be recued. These include, Roman's ex wife, the yacht's captain and chef.

___________________________________________

The Rescue Team's objectives are written out above, as well as a brief summary of what happens during them. Please feel free to do with this as you all like. If you'd like an event channel on the discord just let Admin N know and she'll get on that asap!

Due to Thanksgiving in Canada for Admin N, the start date of the event will be pushed back to Tuesday Oct 15th. Please try and wrap up all non-event threads by then as they will be paused for the duration of the event.

#bnyadmin #bnyevent #Season 2 Event 01 Part One

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dimonds456-but-only-hlvrai · 11 months ago

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Musical References in the Cuphead AU

Something I've been thinking about since I first started animating this AU MONTHS ago was how to go about writing the music. Now, I fucking love jazz, but bro I cannot come up with an entire jazz song in Kris Maddigan's style for a fangame, I am WAY too inexperienced.

Epiphany: musical easter eggs, references, and guides.

For each character, I have a BUNCH of song references. They're either gonna cameo in the song, aid the vibe, or be a general structure for me to follow. Each song also has at least one Cuphead song, and that's the overall vibe I'm going for with their numbers. Each song is here for a reason, and 10 points to whoever can guess some of these lol.

If you're confused as to why a song is on here, send me an ask :)

TOMMY COOLATTA

Tommy Likes Mean People (fan song)

A Night in Tunisia (if nothing else, definitely the vibes of this one)

The BeyBlade Theme

Silent Hill 2 Dog Ending / Dogsong (Undertale)

Amalgam (Undertale)

Twin Peaks Theme

Half Life 2 Radio Theme (Gman's Theme)

Bootlegger Boogie (Cuphead DLC OST)

Botanic Panic (Cuphead OST)

DR COOMER

There's Nothing There (Main theme) (Aquacycle)

"I did have a wife, but they took her in the divorce" (Cruel Angel's Thesis from Evangelion) (Midi version)

Music to Soothe the Savage Snake Plant

The Fallen Child (THE DRUMS)

Super Punch-Out! Menu Theme

A CYBER'S WORLD? (Deltarune OST)

Clip Joint Calamity (Cuphead OST)

Carnival Kerfuffle (Cuphead OST)

BUBBY

Shin Megami Tensei IV OST - Black Market (interrogation scene)

Dr Feel-Good (Mötley Crüe)

Welcome to the Jungle (Guns n Roses)

Thunderstruck (AC/DC)

Moonbase Alpha (aeiou)

Tubes (the fan song)

Music to Soothe the Savage Snake Plant

SolusLunes - Endless Space

Witch Theme (Left 4 Dead)

Fiery Frolic (Cuphead OST)

Junkyard Jive (Cuphead OST)

BENREY

Passport Guardian (its3oe)

Gordon's Haste (fan song)

The Villain You Wanted (fan song)

Bohan the Raven King (Heavenly Sword OST)

At Doom's Gate ("this is a receipt.")

Yoshi's Island (Benry's Castle)

Opera De Ossium (Boneworks OST)

Bombs For Throwing at You (Portal 2)

The Part Where He Kills You (Portal 2)

Baking the Wondertart (Cuphead DLC OST)

DARNOLD

Upgrade Station (Team Fortress 2 OST)

Killer 7 - Heroic Deeds

Porkrind's Emporium (Cuphead OST)

More to be added, but yeah! :)

Now I just have to also do this for the world theme and the run and gun levels I told myself I wasn't gonna make. 🙃

#this is getting out of hand someone stop me #hlvrai cuphead au #dimond speaks

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whumpbby · 1 year ago

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My dude I'm here for it-___-

That's an amazing concept! Binghe conveniently missed the whole WWX kerfuffle while on his scholarship in the Abyss and now he's back and finds his shifu even more depressed and hurt???

What the fuck happened when he was gone?!

Don't worry, shifu, now that I'm back with a new amazing power and a masisve dick, I will take care of you-______-

I was also thinking of a situation where OG!Binghe gets disillusioned with his own world and starts travelling to other dimensions via the Xin Mo and, shit, there comes a time where something goes wrong. He hasn't reloaded via dual cultivation in a while and the sword starts pushing and Binghe gets into an early stage of qi devation... And something cracks. He wakes up in a new dimension - no Xin Mo in sight, weak, distressing short and slim... What the hell happened? His demon energy is almost depleted and his golden core is pulsing painfully. The air around him tastes wrong and the sky is a wrong colour and LB starts to realise that he's stranded somewhere else. He scrambles up and - oh, there's fire on the horizon.

He knows what it means, but he also knows where there is conflict, there are people. A side he can join. Someone to interrogate. He doesn't for a moment consider he could be in danger - he's the protagonist after all.

Well, not in this story. In this story he stumbles out of the forest into an open battle - people in red and white against people in gold and purple, and grey, - and only then it dawns on him he's swordless and can't pull on the power he has been relying on for decades and - the worst - he's at least a head shorter than everyone else!

It doesn't take long before his disheveled person catches attention of a warrior in red. (Was it his clothes? He was very obviously not affiliated, barely a dangerous sight, but he was also dressed in black...) He avoids a sword swipe by the skin of his teeth. His body is heavy, reactions slow, the burning camp suffocates his senses and his eyes have a hard time adjusting to the flares of light in the darkness. He's pathetic. He's angry. He feels like the weak, useless disciple again.

For the first time in decades, he feels fear.

He manages to escape the warrior, but that only puts him into a path of another. And another. He remembers his martial arts, but his arms are weak and his hits don't connect as they should. He has to adjust on the fly, has to start aiming carefully, into the pressure points, kicking knees and elbows, and forcing his hurting core into reinforcing his aching hands. His vision starts to narrow down into the white and red robes, into the sun crest, into the angry faces of cultivators wanting to cut him down. He didn't chose a side as much as the first enemy chose it for him.

He stumbles through the battlefield, looking for an exit, wading in the bloody mud, angry at his weakness, angry at his bad luck, angry at each wound making his body, angry at his fear...

He doesn't know how he manages to survive the onslaught, how he manages to cross the battlefield, but a moment comes when his knee twists painfully underneath him and he slips in the mud, landing on his hands... When did it start to rain? His skin feels numb, but he can hear thunder and see the flashes of light... Reflecting off the blade coming down on him, held by a warrior in red, and Binghe can't move fast enough, can't raise his hands, can't...

The hit doesn't land. Lightening strikes the cultivator like gods' wrath, dropping him down like a piece of smoking, trembling meat.

Before Binghe can gather his wits, there's a hand grasping harshly under his arm and pulling him up, a voice in his ear yelling at him to up, move, where if your sword?! He pulled up, pushed back, held harshly when his feet stumbled, and shoved behind a purple-clad back of a warrior vielding lightening in his hand.

Binghe stumbles, confused, angry. He's not a child! He's a demon emperor! He's not someone to be pulled back and protected!

He...

He... doesn't know what to do ...he's never been the one who was protected... no one has ever...

....ever protected him.

You gonna tell me that teenage Luo Binghe, a known enjoyer of older, emotionally stilted men in power, wouldn't take one look at Jiang Cheng and decide that he needs to tap that?

#MDZS #SVSSS #luo binghe #jiang cheng #headcanon

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larrythefloridaman · 2 years ago

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idk why i made this. anyway cpuk tierlist based on which characters i think do or do not smoke weed and how much

#cpu kerfuffle #my askbox is open if you want to interrogate any of my choices btw #a lot of these are just vibes but several of them i do have an explanation for #absent characters are absent because theyre either kids redundant or i couldnt make a confident assessment #red shadow and prismatic shadow are only seperate because i find the disparity hilarious #my credentials for making these judgement calls: nearly my entire family smokes weed and ive been surrounded by it my entire life #also 'ability to smoke weed' is irrelevant as a factor here. i dont know if j0hn and the clonebots can smoke weed.#this is asking WOULD they #weed mention

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fizzydrink698 · 2 years ago

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flames | hyunjin

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

word-count: 3.7k

genre: fantasy au, assassin!hyunjin, enemies to lovers

warnings: swearing, violence, choking (almost not in a flirty way, but not quite), super sexy hand-holding

(because that main sparks!couple is just too fun to not write again)

summary:

You frown. “Is it so hard to believe I find you attractive?”

Hyunjin raises an eyebrow, eyeing you with pure scepticism. “You’ve tried to kill me. Multiple times.”

“I fail to see how one negates the other,” you reply with a shrug.

You’re a little disappointed.

The bedchambers are so…bare. Not a hint of personality, not a taste of individuality, just bare walls and simple furniture and plain bedsheets. If you didn’t know any better, you would call this a cell, not someone’s personal quarters.

You’re not sure what you were hoping for, you muse as you open up the wardrobe. Maybe some sort of clutter, anything that gave just the smallest detail about the man who slept in these chambers. A chessboard, pieces abandoned halfway through a match. Maps of the territory, with little markings added by hand. Singed body armour. A beloved teddy-bear. Something.

No. Of course he wouldn’t make things so easy.

With a sigh, you grab at the hem of your shirt and pull it up over your head, letting it drop to the floor with barely a second thought. You fight back a shiver as cool air hits the newly bare skin of your back and chest, and you rummage through the wardrobe until you extract a suitable replacement.

You wonder how his clothes will look on you. The man is built so strangely – for a fighter as fearsome, as deadly, as he is, there’s almost no bulk to him. He’s lithe, almost scrawny, like an alley cat.

In the distance, floors and floors below you, you hear the faintest sounds of a kerfuffle. A common enough occurrence in a compound as large as this one. You pay it little notice.

The shirt fits well enough – the fabric is a little thicker than your previous shirt, suited for a colder climate than you’re used to.

You suppose trousers are a no-go. With long lanky limbs like his, anything that remotely fit him would pool around your ankles, and you’re not exactly in a position to start sacrificing mobility.

But you do help yourself to a belt, pulling it around your waist, cinching it in. You’d grown a fondness for form-fitting clothes – the weight was reassuring, almost like armour.

More noises downstairs. Footsteps, shouts of alarm. You weigh up the advantages and disadvantages of such acoustics in this compound, briefly, before abandoning this train of thought for more interesting things.

There’s no mirror in here to check if you look as good as you feel. Instead, you have to make do with taking a seat at his desk, sprawling your legs over the arm of the chair rather than sitting normally.

Your back still aches a little. Your ankles and wrists even more so.

You can’t help but eye that bed, and those soft, inviting sheets – but you know not to take things too far.

This is a bold enough strategy as it is. You’re smart enough to admit that.

So, instead, you sit. And wait.

Hyunjin doesn’t disappoint.

Less than a few minutes pass by before you hear his footsteps. Never rushed, always steady, composed, no matter how quickly he moves.

His door flies open.

It’s a testament to his instincts as a warrior that you barely get a glance at his expression when he sees you sitting there, perfectly at ease, in his chambers, before his sword is already drawn and pointed directly at your neck.

You’re smart enough to keep still. Years of combat experience has trained you well to analyse your opponent, and you waste no time taking in Hyunjin’s appearance. Hair pulled back into a ponytail, slightly more formal attire than the armour you’ve seen on the battlefield and the simple clothes he’d worn during your interrogation. They were made to move easily in, to fight in. These were not, they’re too stiff, the collar of his jacket is too high, the sleeves are a touch too tight.

You wonder if he came up here to change into something more battle-ready before joining the search for you.

A small part of you wonders if he knew you well enough to guess where you’d run off to, whether coming up here was intuition.

Still, you keep your eyes fixed on that blade at your neck, just in case.

Hyunjin’s voice is as low as ever, but you take no small amount of delight in the hint of confusion in his tone. You’ve thrown him off, just as you always love to do. “What are you doing here?”

“Finishing our conversation,” you say, so calm that you could almost be mistaken as innocent. Almost.

“Conversation?” Hyunjin repeats, perfectly neutral, as if he isn’t aware that you could count the number of conversations the two of you have had on one hand. As if he isn’t aware that your last conversation was by far the most interesting of the bunch.

“The one we had downstairs. You ran away just as it was getting interesting.”

Hyunjin’s jaw tightened. “I didn’t run awa–”

“And since you refused to come down to me to finish it,” you interrupt, ignoring him. “I was forced to come up here to you.”

“Chan might order you dead for this. He’d be well within his right,” Hyunjin warns.

You straighten up, noting the way Hyunjin’s sword shifts, rising up to stay level with your neck. This is a delicate situation you’ve thrown yourself into, and you’re aware you might need to tread carefully.

Glancing away from him, towards the door he’d just entered, your expression turns serious. “You’ll notice I incapacitated the guards on the way here. Not killed. And you of all people should know that was a deliberate choice on my part.”

There’s a long pause, as Hyunjin weighs your words carefully against what he knows about you. The similarities between the two of you, how lethal you can be with the right motivation, even the simple fact of how much more difficult it is to knock out a horde of enemies instead of killing them outright.

To your delight – and, you have to admit, a little relief – Hyunjin lowers his sword. He doesn’t sheathe it, but it’s progress enough. “That doesn’t change the fact that you tried to escape your cell.”

You can’t help it.

You snort.

“There wasn’t much ‘trying’ involved, if I’m being honest. Your security measures are…” you trail off, eyes meeting his with no small amount of mischief. “Well, as you can see, inadequate.”

“I’ll be sure to let Chan know,” Hyunjin says, stiff.

You eye him for a moment, and you fight the sudden urge to pout. Riling Hyunjin up was never an easy task, but you were never the patient type. You badly want to say something, something bold. You hate tiptoeing around the topic, testing the waters.

“If it’s any consolation,” you say, tilting your head. “If our roles were reversed, I imagine you would have broken out far sooner than I did. Imperial cells are pathetic, I’m amazed they can keep as many prisoners as they have.”

“I’m flattered,” Hyunjin replies – and you know he means it to be sarcastic, but you recognise that little flicker in his eyes. He is a little flattered.

You wonder if it’s praise in general that incites that kind of reaction in him, or specifically praise from you.

That’s an interesting new thought to consider.

“What do you want?” Hyunjin asks, suddenly serious again. Wary. Maybe he doesn’t like how silent you’ve become. Maybe he’s wary at all the thoughts that could be circling in your head.

He shouldn’t be. Well, mostly shouldn’t.

“I think I already made that clear last time,” you say brightly, lips curling up into a smile.

He doesn’t rise to the bait, but you’re not too disappointed. There’s a reason Hyunjin is such a worthy opponent, of course he’d make you work for it.

“What else do you want?”

You hum, pretending to be deep in thought. “Money. A new pair of boots. A cottage by the river. A good harvest–”

“You’re wasti–”

“Oh,” you snap your fingers suddenly, looking back at him and pointing. “To see you with your hair down. I bet it’s so pretty.”

“Stop flirting with me,” Hyunjin demands, but that commanding tone of voice he’d used just moments ago has wavered slightly.

“No.”

“My patience is starting to wear out,” Hyunjin warns. “Don’t make me ask again.”

You sigh, but eventually relent. “Fine. I want out of that cell. It’s dull, and if you’re not going to visit me, what’s the point?”

“What’s the point?” Hyunjin asks, incredulous for a second, until he recovers. Then, slowly, as if stating the obvious, he answers his own question. “To imprison you. Because you’re a threat.”

“I can be just as easily imprisoned here in your room,” you shrug, glancing around as if you’re inspecting his chambers, assessing its security measures.

Hyunjin stills, staring at you. And then, with a voice so sharp, you’re not sure if he’s directing the words at you or himself, he replies. “You’re not sharing my bed.”

You blink, staring up at him, completely innocent.

“Who said anything about your bed, Hyunjin? I said ‘room’, I don’t know where your mind plucked ‘bed’ from,” you point out, and you can’t help the grin that creeps across your face. “What an overactive imagination you have.”

Hyunjin’s reaction does not disappoint. His expression goes from shock to indignation in a flash, grip tightening on his sword as if he’s genuinely contemplating running you through just to save his embarrassment.

And there, just faintly, if you look hard enough, you can see the slightest tinge of pink peeking out under the collar of that jacket.

You’re ecstatic.

You’ve made him flush. You’ve made Hyunjin flush. This might rank among your greatest accomplishments.

Your feelings must be clear on your face, because Hyunjin grows even angrier, even more defensive. “Enough. Whatever this scheme of yours is, stop it.”

It’s interesting. A man like Hyunjin, so at ease in battle, in killing his way through swarms and swarms of people, cutting them down and burning them alive without a second thought. And yet so uncomfortable, so immediately on edge with something as small as flirtation.

A thought flickers at the back of your mind, and it’s enough to give you pause.

“There is no scheme,” you say, completely honest. Sure, you’ve got a plan or two to get yourself out of the dungeons – and a few more to escape this compound entirely, before Chan decides to have you executed. But none of those plans involve Hyunjin. “If you’re looking for ulterior motives, there aren’t any.”

This is just…fun. Curiosity. You enjoy it. You enjoy him.

Hyunjin scoffs.

You frown. “Is it so hard to believe I find you attractive?”

Hyunjin raises an eyebrow, eyeing you with pure scepticism. “You’ve tried to kill me. Multiple times.”

“I fail to see how one negates the other,�� you reply with a shrug. “You should know. You’ve done the same to me, and yet…”

You trail off, eyes still on him. You don’t say it out loud. If you say it out loud, he’s just going to deny it, whether that’s the truth or not.

You just let it hang there, silent. Unspoken.

“…Chan’s not going to let you out of the dungeons,” Hyunjin eventually says. His tone is even, impassive – but no longer suspicious, so you’ll take what you can get.

You bite your lip, pausing. Hesitating. There’s a certain card hidden in your deck, one you’re unsure whether to play.

“What if I told you…” you swallow, but eventually press on before you lose your nerve. “I could be…persuaded to pull out of this war?”

Hyunjin stares at you, visibly surprised. You’re a little shocked yourself at your own words. No matter how much you’ve thought about it, actually hearing them out loud feels like a big step.

Hyunjin takes a step forward, suddenly urgent. “Would you join us?”

“No,” you say, flatly. “Chan’s killed too many of my men.”

“I’ve killed some of your men,” Hyunjin reminds you.

“On whose orders?”

He doesn’t respond, but you can tell from his expression that you’ve made your point.

“But I would stay neutral, for a price,” you relent. “For enough money to keep my men happy.”

And safe, you add in your mind. This war was spiralling out of control. Too many people were dying to justify such a stalemate. Every inch of territory gained by either side came with a body count in the hundreds. Before long, dear Chan and his estranged uncle would be warring over little more than a blood-stained burial pit

You don’t care for politics. You’ve made that very clear. You aren’t about to let your men die for nothing, not if you can find a way to get them out of the mess that a bunch of bored aristocrats had plunged the kingdom into.

Hyunjin doesn’t speak, but his interest is clearly piqued.

You try your best to seem nonchalant, as if your greatest offer was no big deal. “Just some food for thought, I suppose.”

“What would your conditions be?” Hyunjin asks, leaning forward just slightly. He’s too much of a seasoned warrior to step within arm’s reach, but the distance between you is certainly closing.

“Getting out of that cell,” you say immediately.

Hyunjin makes a face. “Chan’s not going to let you just go.”

“I gathered as much,” you sniff, just a little offended that he’d think you that naïve. “I’m open to being kept here, if he needs the reassurance of keeping an eye on me. Just not in a cell.”

“And what exactly would you be doing here?” Hyunjin asks.

You smirk at him, and he probably realises his mistake. “Sparring with you.”

He almost looks exasperated, as you’ve managed to lead the conversation right back to where you want it. But not angry. “What kind of sparring?”

“Whatever kind you’d like,” you say, your smirk only growing. “I’m open to suggestions.”

Hyunjin sighs, and you’re half-expecting him to shut you down once again. He surprises you, as his gaze drops downwards for just a moment. “The kind that doesn’t involve you stealing my clothes.”

At this point, your smirk’s so wide it’s making your cheeks ache. “Did it take you this long to notice?”

Hyunjin’s eyes flicker back up to meet yours. “…No.”

His admission, especially in a voice so quiet, so low, makes something in your stomach flutter. Your breath catches, just for a second, until you recover your composure. “Can you blame me? My old clothes are threadbare, practically about to break apart. I don’t suppose you could go ask for a pair of trousers that could fit me?”

Hyunjin throws you a look, trying to seem stern. You see right through it. “Don’t push your luck.”

You sigh. “A wise move. When these trousers fall to scraps, I would be far less likely to stage an escape in my underwear.”

For the first time this conversation, a hint of amusement sparks in Hyunjin’s eye. “No, you wouldn’t.”

He’s absolutely right. You grin. “You know me so well.”

He rolls his eyes – and you don’t know whether it’s this unexpected moment of bonding, or whether that eye-roll has pressed enough of your buttons to have you eager to ruffle him again – but you grow bold.

“Still,” you look down, faking a sigh, and reach for the drawstrings of your trousers, taking the string between your fingers and starting to pull. “With how filthy these are, needs must–”

Hyunjin grabs your wrist, shocking you into stillness. You stare down at his hand, gripping you firmly, still unable to process that he’s crossed the distance between you, that he’s in your space, he’s touching you–

Your head snaps up, eyes wide.

He realises a second too late that you were joking.

He drops your wrist as if it burned him – the irony isn’t lost on you – but he doesn’t take a step backwards. Perhaps embarrassment has rooted him to the spot.

That flush has returned, travelling upwards, almost reaching his face.

The thought that had flickered at the back of your mind, that tiny little whisper, burns brighter. Bright enough that it loosens your tongue, and has you asking.

“Are you a maiden, Hyunjin?”

You shouldn’t have phrased it like that. An old habit, from when you teased your men in countless taverns. It sounds like you’re criticising him, or making fun of him at the very least.

You’re not. You’re just curious.

His expression hardens, and you almost want to wince. All the progress you had made with him in the last few minutes, vanished in an instant.

It’s these sudden awful thoughts that cause you to slip up.

As he takes a step backward, you reach out impulsively, guiltily, to catch his wrist.

Immediately, you realise your mistake as his instincts kick in. Before you can blink, he’s twisting his arm, wrenching your own as he forces your own grip to work against you.

Somehow, it feels like an age and the briefest of seconds since the last time you and Hyunjin fought.

You don’t need to think to counteract him, like a dance you already know the steps to. You rise up from the chair before he can drag you, twisting under his arm with fluidity, like water, like smoke, before planting your feet and driving your other hand upwards against the bend of his elbow – seeking to break his grip, not his bones.

He catches on too quickly, striking away your free hand with his own before grasping at your throat. Fingers around the back of your neck, thumb positioned right under the point of your jawbone, digging into the flesh.

Not to incapacitate, you realise with a shock, but to control your balance, your movements, the twist of your head. Your free hand, knocked away, comes up to grab at his wrist.

But before you can even attempt to pry his hand away, he drops, still gripping you, forcing you downwards so abruptly that even your carefully planted stance is no match for the lurch of his movements. One foot of his rises upwards to catch you in the gut, and before you can fully comprehend what’s happening, he’s using it to hoist you over his head. You leave the ground entirely for the briefest of seconds, and when you land, you’re on your back.

He rolls backwards onto you, quick as a flash, hands never leaving your wrist and neck, knee planted on one shoulder to hold you down.

But nothing more than that.

You exhale, breath struggling to right itself, as you try to make sense of that sudden burst of movement, of combat, of old familiar sensations, and now this sudden quiet.

Hyunjin is staring down at you, his face scarily calm. Not a hint of emotion.

“Do not lay a hand on me,” he warns. It’s not angry, it’s not even cold, it’s so horribly neutral.

You inhale, sharply. That hand of his is pressing on your neck, thumb right in the squishy part under your jaw. Your own hand still clutches at his wrist, squeezing it, ready for you to make an ill-fated attempt to force him off of you.

And yet all you can think about is what a tiny shift it would be, if he let that thumb relax, if he let it just…graze your jaw. How quickly, how subtly, this position could transform.

You keep your gaze on him, refusing to break eye contact. “…That’s not what you’re angry about.”

His eyes narrow, but to your surprise, he doesn’t argue.

You take a deep breath, laboured slightly by the pressure of his hand on you. Already, the combatant in you is thinking on how to break his grip. The exact pressure points on his wrists to squeeze, the direction in which you could jerk his hand and feel a bone snap.

But you don’t. You keep the hand around his wrist loose, gentle.

“It doesn’t matter, if you are. Not to me.”

You say ‘if’ because there’s no way to tell definitively. But he embarrasses too easily, at the mere mentions of a bed, at the possibility of seeing you undressed. He’s a fighter, he has to be used to bodies, but clearly not in this particular context. He’s been moulded for battle, for assassination. There’s been no room for anything else, not while Chan has him as his little personal killer. He might have experience, but definitely not much.

That doesn’t seem like something you should say out loud, not yet anyway. This could be a sore point for him. It seems like a sore point for him.

“It doesn’t change anything,” you promise him.

He pauses. And then, finally, finally, he responds. There’s even a slight quirk of his brow, as he regards you with distrust. “No?”

“No,” you affirm. And then, slowly, you let yourself smile. Even when you’re sincere, you can never keep yourself serious for too long. “But perhaps I should stop teasing you.”

Hyunjin’s jaw tightens. “Perhaps,” he repeats, and your stomach jolts when you hear the faintest traces of something in his voice.

And then, you let your grip on the hand around your neck relax, and your thumb very slowly and very softly drags over the vulnerable curve of his wrist, running up the sensitive edge of his palm, up to the base of his thumb, and back down again. “Perhaps I should be seducing you instead.”

You half-expect Hyunjin to turn away, or turn even colder. It’s very possible you’ve pushed too far.

Instead, his gaze only intensifies. It’s practically burning.

“Isn’t that what you’ve been trying to do this whole time?” Hyunjin asks.

That fluttering sensation is back in your gut with a vengeance.

“Not quite,” you admit, your voice dropping to almost a murmur. “But look at the effect I’ve had so far. Imagine what I could do.”

His eyes flash, a ghost of recognition in his features.

He knows what this is.

A challenge.

Finally, something he’s used to. Something he can play along with.

You might just have him.

He shifts his weight, the tension in his shoulders easing.

You relax, opening your mouth to continue speaking, when–

“Guards!” he shouts, loud and clear.

You tense again, eyes darting to the door, but it’s too late. You can hear the footsteps outside, scrambling towards you, growing louder and louder.

You have enough time to sigh, glancing back at Hyunjin, who looks far too smug with himself and the upper hand he’s gained.

You scowl.

“Do I get to keep the shirt, at least?”

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milesducemdominus · 4 years ago

Text

@forgedbyduty asked: “I’m here- I’m here, now” - forgedbyduty (??? maybe?? if you want) MEME: My muse had been kidnapped and tortured for the past week send “I’m here- I’m here, now” for your muse to save them.

Right under their noses. As if the weeks just passed had not been difficult enough, the very last thing they needed was another trial, another mass of difficulty presented. Within the confines of the city itself did they take him - his walk home obstructed by an unknown force and then an attack that left him no time to react.

How awful it had been, too, to be constantly noted of the mass panic regarding his disappearance - newspapers thrown at him every morning, the idiotic laughs that came from those that had beaten him down, broken bones and attempted to draw information from him through absolutely ludicrous interrogation techniques. They (whoever they were-) used all variety of techniques to agitate him, to poke and prod sensitivities; any weapon was used, not merely violence.

How long he had been there he simply didn’t know, but with his wrists tightly bound with harsh rope and his person simply too weak and sleep deprived to drag himself up and make any attempts at escape. That was without acknowledging wounds and injuries; Aymeric was stuck and without any way to get himself out of the situation he simply had to wait - - wait and see if the trail that was barely left behind was discovered- a small hope.

He’d had perhaps five minutes of sleep when he was woken once again, the agony of being denied rest hurting far more than any physical wounds for a moment. He could hear movement upstairs, a kerfuffle of some variety - violence; and then silence. Silence; then movement - down the stairs; bootsteps.

The next he knew there were hands frantically attempting to undo the rope around his wrists, the soreness from broken skin; eyes slowly opening to raise upward to meet the concerned expression of a familiar face, albeit blurred.

“...Artoirel?” Relief. Against all odds, he had been discovered- he’d be able to feel fresh air on his face, he’d be able to sleep - and indeed, the pull of such was strong when he leaned against the other for support.

#A Letter from the Past || Queued ||

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dark7whiteseason1download · 4 years ago

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Dark 7 White Season 1 Download 720p filmyzilla

Dark 7 White Season 1 Download 720p filmyzilla Web Series, Dark 7 White (2020) Season 1 Download Hindi HDRip 720p Complete Google Drive

Dark 7 White ALTBalaji Crime | TV Series (2020– ) Stars: Sumeet Vyas, Nidhi Singh, Jatin Sarna Audio: Hindi Quality : HDRip 720p

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Indian celebrity Sumeet Vyas is a favorite because of his characters in web series such as Permanent Roommates and Tripling. He was last seen in Amazon Prime Video's Wakaalat in Home and Kubbra Sait, Sumeet Vyas, Nidhi Singh, and Gopal Datt in critical roles. The Veere Di Wedding celebrity Sumeet Vyas is set to reunite with his next political thriller, Dark7White, the preview of this web series premiered a while back on November 5. The celebrity shared his appearance on social websites that showed him playing the role of Yudhveer Singh, who's the youngest CM.

youtube

Series founder ALTBalaji has shown great rigor and consistency in researching generalized randy behavior, whatever the circumstance. A series that's allegedly about palace intrigue and the power dynamics involving a group of buddies is reduced into a series of poorly decorated bedroom romps along with jejune banter.

The series could be streamed on the internet on OTT programs AltBalaji and Zee5. The trailer has been lost on November 5. The trailer demonstrates that the protagonist has been killed, and there are 5-6 suspects for his murder. The spin would be to discover who the accused is atop numerous suspects. Dark 7 white could also showcase Nidhi Singh and Sumeet Vyas within an onscreen couple following their powerful web series Permanent Roommates and Wakaalat From Home. Have a peek at the preview of this series that's all set to launch on November 24th.

The series is titled Dark 7 White, which provides us a clue to the number of suspects. They all are out of Yudhveer's social circle. They comprise his girlfriends (Yudhveer is a more-the-merrier kind ) and a homosexual couple. This group of frenemies was abused and used by Yudhveer, a family scion who continues to act like the princely states have not been abolished. Democracy is a fantasy, snarls that this self-declared prince.

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In ALTBalaji's most up-to-date poll of sleaze, Rajasthan's newest chief minister gets the smallest stint in office. He is murdered in the opening moments.

There are just two adults in the room. In India, Sumeet Vyas is arguably among the first stars of this emerging web series scene, is cast against type as evil incarnate. As a politician, he's clean-shaven and contributed to excellent white clothing -- about the magnitude of personality shading. Nevertheless, Vyas seems to have a swell period of swaggering, kissing and swearing. The 10-episode series, adapted from Shweta Brijpuria's publication Dark White, has been streamed on Zee5. Mohinder Pratap Singh and Mayuri Roychoudhary have composed the version.

Dark 7 White (2020) Season 1 Download Hindi HDRip Google Drive

Instead of vacating the world, Yudhveer Singh (Sumeet Vyas) hangs around both in the kind of flashbacks and a voiceover that provides a snarky comment on the investigation into his murder. Who could be behind the premature passing of the smug, smooth kid of privilege?

Another grown-up is that the policeman is investigating the kerfuffle. Jatin Sarna plays with Abhimanyu Singh, the burly officer that has the challenging job of interrogating the suspects and digging up dirt on Yudhveer. Sarna seems to possess a twinkle in his eye so frequently, but we perhaps imagine things.

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#Dark 7 White Web Series #altbalaji web series

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marronbunnie · 1 year ago

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I had to take this pic Instantly (you captured jyushi's magnificent look perfectly 😭💝💝)

WDFKJJOEHOJNFER HES SO CUTE IM GONNA CRYYYYYY I LOVE MOCHIS SO DEARLY... this might be the ask of all time thank you...

#IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE IT SNIFFLES #kerfuffle interrogation...#EW04 IS JUST SO PRETTY >__<

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owl-elementary · 6 years ago

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Pezberry - "I'm pretty sure I love you more than you love me."

It started as a fight over the remote. It was a rainy Saturday afternoon - one of the few they’d had off in weeks. Beyond the weather being terrible, Santana and Rachel were way too tired to do anything. So they’d decided they were going to have a Netflix and chill day. And somewhere between Chopped and Criminal Minds, there was a kerfuffle.

“We are not watching Steven Universe for the 85th time, Santana!”

“Oh, because your obsession with Charmed is any better?”

And then it was war. Rachel attacked first, bopping Santana with a pillow; after which, Santana countered by tossing a few marshmallows at her girlfriend. This led to a five minute pillow-tickle fight, remote control lying forgotten amongst the pillows and blankets.

Santana settled down on top of Rachel, nuzzling her neck when both were too tired to continue the battle. “I love you, you nutcase.”

“I love you more.”

“Impossible. I’m pretty sure I love you more than you love me,” Santana retorted.

Rachel rolled her eyes and switched the TV back to Charmed.

It started with a question. It caught Santana completely by surprise, actually. She’d been agonizing over whether or not to propose to Rachel for months, and Rachel had beaten her to the punch. For Santana, it couldn’t have been better - even if it did feel a little out of the blue. Rachel had driven them to one of the big arcades, where a bunch of their college friends, plus Quinn and Kurt, had met them. They’d split up into teams for laser tag, with the objective of reaching the middle and stealing the other team’s flag first.

But when Santana got to the middle, Rachel was there - with the words “Will you marry me?” spray-painted on the black wall behind her.

Santana took about seven shots to the chest, since Rachel’s team was watching from strategic places, but she didn’t care.

“Yes!” she shouted, laughing.

Rachel slipped a fake glowing ring onto her finger. “You get the real one later, gorgeous. I love you.”

Santana’s jacket buzzed again as someone shot her. “I love you more.”

Rachel’s jacket buzzed as Santana’s team arrived on the scene. “I’m pretty sure I love you more than you love me.”

And, for once, Santana let her have it.

It started with a tabloid article. And normally neither of them paid much attention to those. There had been an article about Rachel actually being a 52 year old performance artist from Greece. There had been the fake sex tape where the assholes tried to pass it off as Santana with a few different women. The problem with that one was that they’d forgotten that Santana had a multitude of very distinctive tattoos. Her fans had a field day laughing at the video on Twitter.

Usually they didn’t pay attention. But Rachel couldn’t shake this one.

“You can’t be serious,” Santana whispered. “You can’t possibly think I did this.”

Rachel couldn’t look at her. She shrugged. “It’s not like you haven’t done this before -”

“Rachel! That was before we were even dating! There is literally nothing going on between me and Quinn,” Santana said, tossing the paper down. The picture on the front page was of the two of them leaving the Conrad Hotel in the morning. “We had breakfast, for god’s sake! She had a shitty day the day before, and we were messaging each other, and I joked about craving pancakes. She told me they have great pancakes for brunch, so I met her, and then we went shopping. You can check my Instagram if you don’t believe me.”

“I want to believe you,” Rachel said. “I just…”

“You just think I would actually cheat on you with Quinn.” Santana stood and grabbed her gym bag.

“Santana, you can’t just leave! We need to talk about this!”

“No…you want to keep interrogating me to feel better about your insecurities around Quinn,” Santana said. “And I know why you have them, and that I’m partially to blame, but I’ve spent years trying to make it up to you. And apparently it’s not enough.”

“I just want us to be happy together,” Rachel said. “It feels like we don’t even talk anymore and…I don’t know, I guess I just thought maybe that’s because you were -”

“Cheating with Quinn? No, it’s because you’re never home to talk. And when you’re gone, I have maybe five minutes per week with you on the phone before you’re rushing off to your next gig or interview or whatever. You haven’t even let me come with you these last few movies you’ve shot. But I am for damn sure not cheating on you. Not with Quinn, or anyone else.”

“I’m sorry,” Rachel said softly. “I love you.”

Santana shook her head. “I’m pretty sure I love you more than you love me.”

It started with an awards show. Santana had called Kendrick - Kurt’s boyfriend - over to watch with her. In past years, she knew they’d always host a party for Rachel’s awards. Her own parties were more low-key - authors don’t have award shows.

“Does she know?” Kendrick asked, putting a hand on Santana’s shoulder.

“I think she’s guessed,” Santana said. “She just doesn’t care.”

“S…come on…”

Santana said nothing as she watched her soon-to-be-ex-wife smile and accept her latest award. It hadn’t been the reason, but it was the last straw. And Santana didn’t even really blame Rachel. When she looked back on their relationship - falling together in college, the blitz proposal, years of them pulling away from each other - all of it led up to this. Led to Rachel not wanting Santana by her side anymore. And when Rachel had told her she wanted to move to LA…well, this was Santana’s final act of love in their marriage. She wouldn’t make Rachel be the bad guy - not ever. She’d filed the divorce papers, and she’d be gone when Rachel got back.

“Santana…you know I can’t let you stay by yourself, right?” Kendrick asked. “Kurt would kill me.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “I’ve got my bags packed.” She stood and left the envelope on the kitchen counter. Inside were the papers, and a letter:

Rachel,

I’m doing this for us. I know there are still so many things you want to do in life, and that I don’t fit into the equation. So I’m letting you go - no hard feelings. I get it - I’m pretty sure I’ve always loved you more than you loved me.

-S

#purrpickle #made by lbn #fan fiction #pezberry #you told me I could do both so I did both

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shazyloren · 7 years ago

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The Dragon Club: Chapter 46 - Gates and Doorsteps

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12018519/chapters/28942101

-------

Daenerys was woken up from her sleep on the plane as it began its descent back into King's Landing international airport. She gathered her hand luggage and waited for her ears to do the unceremonious pop before breathing easier. Her trip was over and it was back into reality she went. She'd had such a wonderful time in Sri Lanka that she was sad to see it over, even if she was anxious to see Jon when he got back tomorrow.

She should've been home already but there was a lightening storm making her plane delayed. And just because Jon's flight came in tomorrow it did not mean she would see him straight away, he would be jet lagged and in need of sleep. At the slight mention of sleep, her mind went to a place it did not need to go while on a plane. So she pushed it back into the recesses of her mind.

Baggage claim and security was a doddle and before she knew it they could see Duty Free and the skyline of King's landing beyond that. Home. She was happy to be home. However until she stepped outside of the terminal, she was still on holiday. She also gained the signal back on her phone, meaning she'd be bombarded with messages any day now. And as if she was magic, as they left the airport she was indeed bombarded by a bunch of messages and missed calls, from her brother Rhaegar of all people. This had her really worried something bad has happened she called him back as soon as they were in the taxi on the way to the apartment on the other side of town.

It wasn't long until he answered, two rings precisely. "Hello? Daenerys? Thank god!"

"What's the matter, Rae?" Daenerys could hear the panic in his voice and the crying of Elia in the background. It wasn't good, whatever had happened. "Rae, it's okay, calm and tell me what's going on?"

"Fucking mother, that's what. She was suppose to be looking after Rani and Aggy this evening but she's got into a huge argument with Rani, over what I don't know and so Rani walked out of their house and now she won't answer her phone and I have no clue where she could be!" He sounded furious, Daenerys didn't know who with more, Rani for walking out or mother for causing her to. Probably the latter, Rani had never done something this stupid before.

"Okay, you've checked with Jeyne's mother that's she's not gone there? She lives not too far from Mum and Dad" Daenerys offered.

"She's not there that was the first place I thought of. Are you home, she might be coming to you!"

"I'm in a taxi on my way home, I just got off the plane from Sri Lanka" Daenerys say as Jorah starts logging into the security camera's surrounding the apartment from his tablet. The connection is poor so he has trouble loading.

"I thought you'd be home yesterday?" Rae was more fretful than Daenerys had ever heard him sound.

"Flight delay, there was a storm. Give us a minute, Jorah is logging into my security cameras to see if we can pick her up on them. I don't know if she will be there yet. If she is walking it could be ages before she arrives, if she'd coming to me that is" Daenerys was worried for her niece. It was when the internet finally worked and he hooked into the cameras that his phone rang. Daenerys made out the name, Daario. "Hold on, Rae, Daario's phoning he might know something"

Hello, Daario" Jorah spoke, the two phone conversations happening simultaneously. Jorah sighed, in relief. "Thank the gods"

"Where is she?" Dany demanded.

"At your, she turned up outside the door and Daario let her in. She's eating ice-cream as we speak" Daenerys felt relief wash through her body. She was a silly girl for running away, she needed to find out what was the cause of it firstly. She relayed the information back to Rhaegar.

"Tell her when you get home she's in big trouble!" She snapped down the phone.

"Rhaegar, she's a 15 year old girl going through puberty, let me speak to her. This could be the beginning of her anti-parent phase, you remember mine, don't you?" Daenerys said to try and alleviate the situation. Rhaegar grunted. "Just let me get home, I'm not far off now, let me speak to her and see what the problem is. then if she's good, I'll call you and you can come and get her"

"Daenerys she just wandered off without telling anyone where she was going!" He shouted.

"Have you met mother? That's very understandable given who she is" Daenerys shouted just as ferociously. "Let me speak to her, there's a reason she's gone to my apartment"

That was the end of the conversation, Daenerys hung up the phone and stared out of the window. Valyrian building was rising high in the clouds as she did. It was nice to be home, but had her first few minute back on home soil have to start with an interrogation of a fifteen year old? Only this family is bonkers enough where my mother has driven Rani to do this. She generally gets on with Granny Targs, which is more than Daenerys ever has. But mother had been in a strange place the last few months, he disapproval of Jon being one reason why.

Jorah was still on the phone with Daario, getting up to speed with everything that had happened. They hadn't seen the culprit anymore, which was worrying to Daenerys. What if he was waiting to strike while she was at home? While she had Rani at the apartment? She expressed these concerns to Jora but he promised everything would be sorted. He's never let her down yet so there was no reason for him to start doing now.

She breathed a little easier, welcoming her apartment which had now come into view. Knowing her niece was safe on the other side of those walls, she felt a small smile as the familiarity of it all overwhelmed her. Jorah even sighed beside her contently, he was too happy to be out of the heat and home. Before they entered her underground parking, she tweeted a small 'touch down, home sweet home!'. Feeling the time difference she was sleepy too, she was glad they arrived in the evening time meaning she could pretty much go straight to bed once he got Rani sorted.

As the taxi came to a stop in Daenerys' parking space, she climbed out of the car quickly and made to her lift straight away. Jorah paid the taxi and he left once the bags were out the boot. He joined Daenerys in the lift and they went up. "I might kill her so hold me back"

"You won't, you're cool Aunt Dany remember?" Jorah laughed.

"I try to be" She laughed. The lifts opened and they were greeted by Daario at the end of the hall in his suit. He smiled brightly when Daenerys turned up but she only nodded in return and launched the door open. "Rani? RANI!" There was a small kerfuffle and a clapping of feet on the floor as she appeared in the lobby with a sheepish expression on her face. Instantly Daenerys softened, unable to be mad at her. She crossed to where she stood and enveloped her into a large embrace. "Don't ever do that to us again"

"'m sorry, Auntie Daenerys. But Grammy Targs can be so... so... gaaaaah!" She exclaimed, pulling her hair into her fists. Daenerys nodded agreeing. She took Rani to the lounge where they sat on the sofa. Jorah was off home now as it was Daario's night shift now. Qhono was resting, it was his day off as he'd done loads of days ina row while they'd been away. Jorah bid goodbye and left, leaving Daenerys to grill her niece.

"So i've just go home from Sri Lanka to an abundance of messages and missed calls from your father. Why did you run out of Grans house?" Daenerys asked nicely. "You can tell me anything, I'm cool Aunt remember. I'm not as strange as Uncle Viserys or as laidback as our Uncle Oberyn. Talk to me"

"There's... this dance at school" She started. Daenerys knew where this was going already. Boy trouble. She didn't say anything.

"Okay" She just nodded.

"And there's this boy I really like, Tommen Baratheon" Daenerys knew of him, he was Tyrion's nephew. Weird how her niece goes to school with him she thought. "He asked me to the dance, it's just a summer dance at the end of the school year"

"Let me guess, she said you couldn't go?" Daenerys raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, but it' not up to her. It's my choice. And Tommen is really sweet" Rani folded her arms. In the light of Daenery's living room her caramel skin glew brightly. Her eyebrows were pruned and her hair was done nicely. She was growing up, and it was that, which Daenerys thought might be the root of the problem with her mother.

"Some boys, are not as nice as they initially seem. I know that from experience" Daenerys spoke. "But they're not all bad eggs"

"She said he would disappoint me and that my tears were not worth being spilled over him"

"That's just silly. No one would ever date anyone if that were the case" Daenerys thought about how to go about her next sentence. "Do you know, that Grammy targs doesn't like Jon?"

"Is she mental?" Rani asked shocked. "Jon's so cool though!"

"He is indeed, a very good man too. They are hard to come by, but she's like this with me too. And I'm still trying to get her to see how stupid she's being. But unfortunately it's with no avail at the moment" Daenerys was getting through to her. "If you like this boy now, you go to this dance, and you dance your socks off and you celebrate finishing the school year together. If it comes to it that he is a rotten egg, which I do not know, then it's a lesson learned. But you cannot grow as a person without these experiences"

"Why does Grammy Targs not like Jon?" She was still confused on that one.

"It's a protective thing, it comes with being a mother. When I was... younger, I was with someone who hurt me. And since then, she's never let me out of her sight, until one day I had enough. And told her I was my own person to make my own mistakes. We've never seen eye to eye since. She has the Targaryen stubborn trait. She will come around eventually"

"So I should go with Tommen?" Rani asked.

"Absolutely" Daenerys chuckled. "Next time, don't run off at night"

"I won't" She laughed. "God it sounds so stupid, ran off because my grandmother doesn't want me dancing with a boy. How did I even contemplate this?"

"Rhaella will make you do crazy things"

They sat and ate some ice-cream after that and Dany texted her brother saying she was okay and everything was sorted, but that she'd be having words with mother in the morning. She also asked if Rani could stay over for the rest of the weekend as it was Friday night. Daenerys could do with the company if Jon doesn't come round. Rhaegar agreed and so Rani went to bed in the spare bedroom leaving Daenerys to collapse on her own bed, seeing Jon playing on her mind the last thing she thinks of as she falls into deep slumber.

#jon snow #daenerys targaryen #jon x daenerys #jon x dany #jon x dany fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #jonerys #jonerys fanfic #the dragon club #au #got #game of thrones #modern au #Modern Setting

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thebibliomancer · 7 years ago

Text

Essential Avengers: Avengers #145-146: The Taking of the Avengers!/The Assassin Never Fails!

March, 1976

Or the bifurcated King-Size Avengers #5.

And on the cover we have generically named the Assassin throwing photographs of Avengers at the reader. There are various things about the Assassin that makes me think ‘Slade Wilson four years before Slade Wilson’ but I’ll get into that later.

We start off confirming that these two issues are filler because Englehart ran afoul deadlines.

But also: the Avengers fighting Zodiac. But the rounded panels indicate that this isn’t a now thing and sure enough we see that the splash and other panels are footage of the Avengers’ fights that were obtained by throwing money at the problem.

The fight against the Zodiac, the fight against Grim Reaper and Space Phantom and Hydra, Thor’s fight against the Destroyer, Cap’s fight against the less memorable Moonstone, Iron Man versus Dr Spectrum, Vision versus Magneto, Hawkeye versus Zzzax.

And as these films are shown, purple suit man narrates about the various Avengers. And then asks the Assassin: “The Avengers: possibly the mightiest single force on this planet. Can you take them?”

The Assassin goes outside to play some golf and consider the offer. Several of the Avengers’ old enemies have kicked in money. One billion dollars payout with up to additional billion in expenses.

The Assassin agrees. IF: given a year to prepare. The Avengers are a difficult assignment. A year of preparations should be sufficient.

The purple suited agent balks but the Assassin won’t take the assignment unless given a year to prepare so he agrees.

And as you know, generically code-named assassin the Assassin (what, is this a Fate character?) never fails.

So a year later, Captain America interrupts a jewelry heist by a bunch of people in Captain America masks.

And despite adding insult to armed robbery with the identity theft, Cap is feeling proud. It’s been a long night but he’s been hitting the pushers hard. The melodramatic captioning warns that although it’s been a long night, it’s not over yet!

Also, this chapter of the book is titled “TARGET: CAPTAIN AMERICA” so yeah, his night isn’t over yet.

Anyways, he beats up these fooligans. Demonstrates why you should yield to his mighty shield. And tells them to get it out of their systems when they start shooting his shield instead of anywhere else.

One of the craptains manages to FWRAM! Cap with a trashcan when Cap is distracted thinking clever thoughts to himself. But he manages to WHUMP! right back as the guy approaches him with a knife.

But one of the craptains tries to make a run for it and Cap gives chase, not liking to leave loose ends.

Meanwhile, the Assassin lurks atop a building thinking KEIKAKU DOORI.

Cap throws his mighty shield and trips Agent 7-A (the craptain in a green checkered jacket) and then interrogates him. What’s with the masks, huh?

The Assassin hangs down from a fire escape ladder and says that the masks were to draw Cap’s attention (pretty sneaky, the Assassin) and then shoots Cap with a red raygun.

Oh, but he’s not dead. Not yet. For the Assassin’s cool, amazing masterplan, it’s necessary for Cap to be vainly clinging to a fast-fading spark of life. The Assassin’s plan accounts for everything.

FOR EXAMPLE, the Assassin paid an old woman in a nearby building a thousand dollars to make the call that Captain America has been shot. That way, there’s no suspicious anonymous call-in.

BUT ALSO NO LOOSE ENDS. The thousand dollars were coated with a slow-acting poison that will kill the old woman in a matter of days. And unbeknowst to the craptain Agent 7-A, so has his mask.

The Assassin never leaves anything to chance.

And as Captain America lies dying, the Assassin disappears off into the night’s darkness.

CHAPTER 3: THE SMALL HOURS

Referring to the time between midnight and dawn.

Iron Man and Thor meet at the hospital that Captain America was taken to. And the doctor gives them the awful news: “Captain America is dying -- and we don’t know why!”

Iron Man and Thor secretly consult after the doctor walks off. This is a serious medical situation. Maybe they do the thing they always do and bring in reclusive urban legend doctor Donald Blake?

Thor worries. What if the unknown assailant returns to try again. The Avengers would need Thor’s power then.

I mean, hypothetically. I mean, we know that this is a big plot to kill the Avengers but just because someone takes down Captain America doesn’t mean that they’re after the whole team or that they can tangle with the Avengers that have more potent powers.

In this case its unfounded but justified paranoia.

But Iron Man thinks its just a chance they’ll have to take. ALSO: maybe just the presence of Thor would dissuade further attacks, huh? Like those fake security cameras.

Thor is confused.

Meanwhile, Hawkeye arrives at the hospital, all in a tizzy. He had always thought of Cap as being indestructible despite being made of meat instead of god meat or iron-wrapped meat. So he’s discombobulated.

And also confused. Thor and Iron Man just flew off. They were supposed to be keeping Cap under constant guard. Did they even leave anyone? Geez.

Hawkeye is so discombobulated pondering this that he takes a wrong turn and ends up in the wrong corridor and thus runs into several the Assassin agents who are not thrilled to see him.

They decide to kill him so he can’t warn the others.

Hawkeye makes short work of them but unfortunately, shooting their pew pew gun with a thermal arrow creates a smokescreen that allows the two agents to abscond.

The hospital is searched by hospital security and Hawkeye but the two baddies he tussled with are nowhere to be found.

Meanwhile, inside the hospital room, we do see that Iron Man and Thor didn’t just leave Cap unguarded. There’s Beast, Scarlet Witch, and the Vision. Almost a traffic light, really.

And the three are lost in their thoughts. Beast musing on how the shadow of death has hung over the group since Swordsman died. And Yellowjacket and the Wasp nearly died just weeks ago (which is a bit of a weird continuity hiccup since the two should still be in the hospital. By the time they get out of the hospital, the Avengers had gone on Old West and Brand Quests and wouldn’t be available for this story).

Anyway, Hawkeye makes it to the hospital room and tells them they can go get some rest. He’ll guard the room all by himself. Clearly.

He also says that Cap has “more lives than a sabertooth” which is a bit of a mystifying statement since the sabertooth tiger is extinct and the character Sabretooth, while he does have a tendency to cheat death, also hasn’t been introduced until next year. Your weird 70s slang baffles me, Hawkeye. Take your kewpie dolls and learn to speak 2000s English.

Vision decides to stick around anyway. Since he doesn’t really need to. Sleep.

Hawkeye tries to put on an optimistic face for Vision but all he can think about is how he and Cap used to argue all the time. And how despite all the grief Hawkeye gave him, Cap never gave up on him. Except that one time when he ragequit the team. Remember. Right after the non-Luke Power Man and Enchantress thing turned the public against the Avengers? Cap told the Avengers to go screw and got a job helping boxers train? Only came back because Kang kidnapped the Avengers by pretending their mansion had an extra floor?

But in fairness, grief does things to memory.

Hawkeye concludes that it was Cap who turned a side-show archer (and accidental felon) into an Avenger.

And if Cap doesn’t pull through. Hawkeye is going to teach someone the hard way how that word is defined.

Vision has his own moment of ponderation. Cap is one of the few people who easily accepted him as human. And during that Space Phantom/Grim Reaper thing, when Vision was facing his greatest moral crisis, Cap believed in him and put his life in Vizh’s hands.

Vision also thinks of avengeance.

Meanwhile, the Assassin monitors this on Villain Monitoring Equipment, thinking of the Avengers as unsuspecting fools who don’t realize that its more than just Cap in danger.

The super genius awesome incredible master plan is unfolding perfectly. With the exception of those idiots that let Hawkeye spot them. Those idiots are now dead idiots.

And the Assassin allows a feeling of pity for the Avengers. Death will walk among them this night as the Assassin begins a personal involvement with the next phase of the plan and they have no idea.

DUN DUN DUN!

Wouldn’t it suck to have to wait a month and/or three days?

ROLLING RIGHT TO PART TWO!

April, 1976

Damnit, cover. Cap is already dying. He shouldn’t be running toward a crosshair!

Also not really crazy about “The Better to KILL Them With!” as a cover caption. But don’t really want to dwell on it.

Here’s a fun-esque fact: This cover was used as the cover for Essential Avengers vol 7. Despite being the cover of the second part of a bifurcated King-Size issue that interrupted an on-going narrative.

It is a very striking, pretty cool iconic sort of cover though so I can understand why. It really draws the eye.

Anyway, lets get right back into it.

Continuing the continuity kerfuffle from last time, we see Yellowjacket and the Wasp at... I want to say Avengers Mansion? And Falcon is there. And Beast. And Scarlet Witch.

Sure would be helpful if these people were helping to guard Cap instead of sitting around the mansion crying.

I’ll also note that the Assassin’s little video reel of the Avengers did not include any focus on the Scarlet Witch. Who once summoned a meteor from space.

I’m just saying, definitely something that might be of interest to an Assassin seeking to assassinate the Avengers. They covered Hawkeye for gods-sake.

Wanda complains that she feels so helpless. Cap is dying and there’s nothing they can do. Altering probability probably wouldn’t be helpful right now or in many difficult medical cases! Why there’s just nothing they can do!

While Yellowjacket comforts Scarlet Witch, Beast discusses what is already being done. Reed Richards is working on a theory that Cap was afflicted with a new form of radiation poisoning. Meanwhile, Bill Foster is working from the biochemical angle.

And while this discussion is going on, unbeknownst to the Avengers but knownst to me and now you, the Avengers are all being viewed through sniper scopes.

On a roof facing Avengers Mansion, some of those Assassin goons are watching the Avengers. The Avengers are so concerned about Captain America that they’ve let their own defenses down.

And as soon as the main targets (presumably the ones at the hospital) are eliminated, C Squad at the mansion will take the shot and wipe out every Avenger not important enough to take an active role in this story for some reason.

But now chapter two: The Better to Kill Them With!

Which I still don’t get. Whatever.

So. The OR for Captain America. They didn’t even take off his costume. I’m glad to see that enigmatic Doctor Donald Black is taking this important medical situation so seriously.

Anyway, off screen, Reed Richards has become convinced that his own theory is the most correct, as Reed Richards is known to do. Cap has been afflicted with an unknown form of radiation poisoning which is causing his body to shut down.

To save him, they need to cut him open and place counter-radiation capsules inside Cap’s body. That’s probably how medicine works?

I don’t actually know.

Thor goes to check on Thor, confirmed to be a Thor Life Model Decoy that Tony Stark made to quash rumors of a connection between Blake and Thor. So he just so happened to have it at a time they needed Blake and Thor at the same time.

Good job, Tony.

Anyway. He also justifies leaving out a bunch of people from this story. All the Avengers wanted to be at the hospital but if all the Avengers kept standing 24-hour watches, they’d be unequipped to handle any new crisis that came up.

It doesn’t seem that the other Avengers are getting any rest anyway but the theory is sound.

It also doesn't explain how the Assassin’s briefing only covered the Avengers that would be present at the hospital, a year after the briefing. That’s some impressive conservation of exposition.

A nurse comes up to offer Iron Man, Hawkeye, and Vision coffee, which two of the three gratefully accept. Since Vision only drinks and acts affected by drugs to be like the cool kids, he doesn’t have time for that in this trying time.

Oh, yeah. Gave the game away a couple panels early.

Yeah. The coffee was drugged. The nurse, sinister.

With Iron Man and Hawkeye woozy from the drugs, the Assassin’s B Squad attacks.

Since Vision isn’t imitating a cool kid this time, he offers to take the brunt of the attack.

But even so. Hawkeye barely arrows a single person before collapsing. And the goons take advantage of Iron Man’s woozy state to gas him, which is enough to overcome him. Down he goes.

Some more of B squad sneak up on Thor (secretly an LMD, true believers) and SHRAKK! him with a laser rifle. Even as powerful as the weapon is, they don’t expect to kill him. Just get his attention so they can lure him into the generator room and use the full electrical power of New York City to destroy him.

Which seems dubious. Guy channels lightning. But Squirrel Girl (’s evil clone) did determine that even a Thor could be taken out with unexpected and constantly modulating alternating current. So I’ll give the Assassin the benefit of the doubt here.

Anyway, doesn’t matter. The LMD is a lot less durable so instead of a wacky chase scene, we just get a dead LMD which looks a lot like a dead Thor.

Inside the operating room, the medical staff loses its shit because they think they just saw Thor murdered. Actual Thor Donald Blake tells them to lock the door and focus on completely the important operation.

Meanwhile, Vision continues WHUMP! and FWAK!ing the Assassin goons. He’s doing a pretty good job.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t built with eyes in the back of his head which really seems like a design flaw. Gonna blame Ultron. He’s stubbornly human-shaped with his own redesigns, except when he gives himself a rocket instead of a butt.

What I’m getting at is that the Assassin sneaks up behind Vision while he’s distracted and slaps a device onto his cape. The device paralyzes Vision and leaves him unable to shift his density. Unlike the time he got paralyzed by cow lasers and was able to float home.

And now Iron Man, Hawkeye, robot Thor, and Vision are all down.

The poison that Hawkeye and Iron Man ingested will cause instantaneous death once it reaches their hearts. ... From their stomachs? Since they ingested it? So not very instantaneous at all.

Vision is pretty screwed too. The device affixed to him disrupted his entire nervous system but also prevents him from bleeding off any of the solar energy contained within his body. So it will build up and build up until he explodes.

So, hey. He may even kill his friends before the extremely-delayed poison has a chance to.

But something hasn’t gone according to plan. Killing Thor with the blast weapons.

And the Assassin examines the body and realizes that this is not Thor or even his stunt double! Its a robot! Which just verifies what the Assassin was secretly suspecting: Donald Blake and Thor are the same person!

The Assassin sends away the goons to ‘outpost four’ to await further orders and then points a gun at the unsuspecting Donald Blake.

While Thor may be immortal and bulletproof, Blake very isn’t. And since Blake is the only one with the ability to save Captain America, the Assassin will kill two Avengers with one bullet.

AND NOW CHAPTER THREE: Nothing Our Own But Death

I don’t get these chapter titles...

Anyyyyyyway. Before the Assassin can pull the trigger, an arrow goes TWANGG!

Hawkeye is not as dead as previously indicated. In fact, neither of the three Avengers are.

Its really a funny story.

See, when the poison hit Hawkeye’s sensitive stomach, he barfed it up. Preventing it from reaching his heart! Oh, and he’s not sharing but Iron Man didn’t have a heart for the poison to affect.

And then between Hawkeye’s thermal arrows and Iron Man’s gilded muscles, they managed to remove the device affecting Vision.

I mean, it seems to me that since it was just attached to the cape, they could have just taken his cape off of him and he’d be fine but then he wouldn’t look so rad.

The Assassin doesn’t react well to these setbacks but keeps a decent head, kicking Hawkeye with a WHOMP! and pulling a gun on the archer to hold him hostage.

But then Donald Blake does let the door hit Assassin’s ass on the way out. Which is to say, Donald Blake hits the Assassin with the door. And also reports that the operation was a success and Cap is going to live because that is definitely something you can tell within the first minute after a surgery.

So basically, the Assassin has failed to assassin any of the Avengers.

The Assassin goes for a gun but Vision melts it with some of the sweet solar energy and then Iron Man uses his repulsors to shred the Assassin’s costume. Just to make sure no more surprise weapons occur.

Although, there is a surprise. Do you know what the Assassin and the best bounty hunter in space have in common?

Surprise gender reveal.

The Assassin is a woman! Which... isn’t really that surprising. They say that all the best assassins were. Even though they are super hard to code, apparently.

What is surprising, or maybe not really, is that the Assassin was the sinister nurse that served the Avengers poison coffee!

Okay so its all kind of obvious in retrospect. But now I can stop dancing around pronouns.

The Assassin criticizes the Avengers for being shocked that she’s a woman. Haven’t they had badass women on their team like Scarlet Witch (was not allowed to do anything but cry) and Moondragon (Lady Not Appearing In This Picture)? She doesn’t even mention the Wasp because the Avengers book just loves to forget that she exists and isn’t just an accessory Hank Pym brings into battle.

Oh also the Assassin throws a smoke bomb that she had taped to her back and then scarpers. She jumps out a window, making it incredibly obvious that she’s not in the hospital any longer which will only aid the Avengers into getting on her trail sooner than later, and hoofs it towards Avengers Mansion.

Unluckily for her, her radio was destroyed when Iron Man blasted her costume. So she’ll have to run to tell her goons to shoot some Avengers so she can salvage something out of this.

But she runs into her goons on the way, having left position when they didn’t hear from the Assassin.

And when they see a random woman shouting insults and orders and clad in the tatters of the Assassin’s costume, they go ‘oh no we’ve been spotted’ and shoot her.

Just can’t get good help these days forty years ago.

And then the Avengers show up and fight the goons. Its not much of a fight. And because of that no loose ends thing, fourteen of the goons will die in captivity from the poison the Assassin had coated their masks with before Drs. Blake and Pym develop an antidote.

But that’s later. The only person that dies that day is the Assassin, her face twisted in a deathmask of eternal hate. Which the narration speculates may have been directed inward.

And later: more loose ends. That agent that presented the job to the Assassin? He’s confronted by a man named Angelo who seeks revenge for the death of Maria, the Assassin.

The agent confesses that he didn’t even honestly believe she could eliminate the Avengers but she was the best choice for the job - the one with the least slim chances of succeeding.

And with instincts too honed by his life of crime, the agent shoots Angelo before Angelo can shoot him. And then sadly puts the gun to his own head, lamenting the deaths of his son Angelo and his daughter Maria.

Damn. Depressing.

How a life of crime destroys a family, twisting the children and setting parent against child. How like something out of Sopranos except with Captain America. I assume. I never watched Sopranos.

And to think that the Avengers would have all died if it weren’t for Hawkeye’s queasy stomach and Iron Man’s lack of heart.

So. These two issues would have made a good King-Size issue. Or a two-parter that wasn’t in the middle of another story.

I actually quite liked it. It has a good premise. The world’s best assassin, the Assassin, takes a year to plan a foolproof way to kill every Avenger, gets narrowly foiled, and gets hoisted on her own petard.

We don’t really get much into the Assassin. She’s an interesting character. Very different from probably every female villain around this time. Although we don’t really learn much about her other than she’s good at golf and she was born into a life of crime.

I did say she reminded me of Slade Wilson. I think its the chainmail part of the costume, the being hired to kill a team of superheroes and taking a slow methodical approach to it, and a little in the mask. Also, the cover of 145 feels like the kind of cover that Deathstroke would appear on.

I will say that having most of the Avengers sitting around and feeling sorry for themselves at the Mansion made the story feel smaller than I think it was going for. It was a grand plan to assassinate the whole team but only three of them are really active. And one of those three is Hawkeye.

Since the reasoning for not having the entire team at the hospital was in case some crisis sprang up, why not have the Assassin manufacture a crisis to draw some of them off? Have some of them actively investigating Cap’s assailant instead of just having Falcon show up and say no he totally has that covered.

Just feels like too much of the team was sidelined. Moondragon doesn’t even show up. Which is weird because Beast shows up.

I guess I’m just glad that it was Cap who was used as the distressed dude this time instead of using Wasp, again again, or one of the other female Avengers.

Anyway. We get back to the Squadron Supreme storyline next time. Yay!

#Avengers #the Assassin #Thor #Iron Man #the Vision #Hawkeye #Captain America #the rest of the Avengers are present but don't do anything #Essential Avengers #Essential marvel liveblogging #a flawless assassination foiled by one minor detail #thats how the Avengers roll #always a coin flip from catastrophe #that would be an interesting premise for an event #Fate or Luck or whatever it is that allows heroes to win by the skin of their teeth all the time comes to collect what they are owed #Weird fun fact: the cover of 145 was homaged for New Mutants 87 #the one where Cable shows up apparently

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