#maybe this will give me the kick in the rear i need to actually update this old thing

[destroyer-of-aglets]

Arise, Sonus Prime (1: The Matrix Flame)

When he first witnessed the evils brought about by the Primacy and the Senate, Soundwave swore he would never serve a Prime. Now, after Optimus Prime's death, he believes finally has a chance to end the Primacy for good- but Primus works in mysterious and irritating ways, and He's been looking everywhere for someone willing to bear such a mighty burden...

(Contains death and dubiously death-seeking behavior.)

Ratchet had been friends with Optimus Prime long enough to know the prophecy by spark. That one day, an Autobot would rise from their ranks, and use the power of the Matrix of Leadership to light their darkest hour. Optimus had believed the story with his whole spark; not surprising, considering that spark was directly connected to the Matrix in question. Ratchet had his doubts, though. Especially now.

Now, the damned picky-choosy artifact seemed content to bring the Autobots their darkest hour yet. Optimus Prime was dead- buried beneath a collapsing power station in the middle of a raging battle, he bled out before anyone could even start digging. The frame they pulled out would have been unidentifiable, if not for the fragging Matrix of Leadership shining and shimmering away without a care in the universe. But, the Autobots were tough. Optimus’ passing hurt like nothing else, but at the same time, his memory gave them strength. They didn’t fall into despair quite yet.

Prowl took charge after Optimus died. He’d been organizing the fight against the Decepticons while the command team tried to find the mech who would become the next Prime. And then? Then, the Autobots started to despair.

Because apparently, the Matrix of Leadership- the Conduit of Primus, the Wisdom of the Primes, the Chooser of the Chosen One, et cetera- was completely slagging unpleasable!

Prowl and Jazz tried first, but it rejected them. Then Blaster tried and failed. Then Ratchet, then Ironhide, then Red Alert, and so on, and so on…

The Ark’s crew were a perceptive bunch, and they spread rumors and gossip at lightspeed. So when each and every Autobot on the ship was brought before the Matrix and rejected, they were quick to cotton on to the truth. Or, one of several ‘truth-inspired’ ideas.

The religious types thought that Primus had forsaken them; Mirage was positively morose as he spun poems about how the war had made their people unsalvageable. More hopeful Autobots, like Bumblebee, took the situation as a sign to adapt; the Primacy had never been perfect, they reasoned, maybe it was time to transition to a democracy or something. The commanders were all left floundering. Leading the Autobots through depression and despair was always Optimus’ job.

Ratchet, for his part, took to wandering the halls near the Matrix’s new holding chamber, deep inside the Ark. He made a circuit around the chamber, again and again and again, and he would wait for an Autobot to come and grieve in person. He wasn’t Optimus; he couldn’t make any grand speeches to soothe the sparks of the masses. But he could offer them an ear or a shoulder or something. That’s what Optimus would have done, at least in spirit.

That made it hurt less, for him.

--- --- ---

Defenses at the Ark had never been weaker. Grieving Autobots slunk through the halls at a technosnail’s pace, giving more attention to shadows in their sparks than shadows in the halls. Those not occupied with lackluster ‘patrols’ or other duties sequestered themselves in habsuites or kept each other company in common rooms, speaking in hushed tones about this or that.

Soundwave moved through all of them carefully, more driven than ever before. He’d be caught eventually, of course. The Autobots- especially grieving and angry Autobots- wouldn’t let him complete this mission and escape alive. That was… fine, really. A worthy sacrifice.

Primus, but he missed his symbiotes. Any one of them could infiltrate the Ark in ways Soundwave himself could only dream of. But the war had taken so much. The battle that had claimed Optimus Prime had also claimed Laserbeak, Soundwave’s last surviving family. As his grief slowly ebbed away, however, Soundwave saw this opportunity for what it was.

The Matrix of Leadership had yet to choose a new Prime. The Autobots it had sequestered away, deep in the Ark with no bearer.

No defender.

This was Soundwave’s chance to destroy the accursed artifact that had caused so much pain and suffering for the Cybertronian people. He could rid Cybertron of the Primacy, now and forever; finally making good on the oath he had sworn to the Decepticons so many years ago.

Even now, you believe the Primes to be evil?

Soundwave shook his helm as he moved deeper into the ship, trying to clear himself of his second thoughts. The Primes were evil; either by intention or ignorance, the Primes had done more harm to Cybertron than good. Even Optimus Prime, who claimed to hold the freedom of all sentient beings in high regard, waged war to defend a system that would strip that freedom from his own people.

And does Megatron defend the freedom of his own people?

Soundwave was venting hard, now. He was growing closer to where he knew the Matrix to be held, and the temperature in the Ark only seemed to climb and climb. Yes,he pushed back at his own mutinous thoughts. Soundwave did not always agree with Megatron’s interpretation of the Decepticon cause, but his writings were almost single-handedly responsible for starting the Decepticon movement. He had to believe in his own writings. He had to. 

Soundwave cursed to himself as he nearly bumbled into an Autobot. He was letting the turmoil in his processor distract him. It was normal to have second thoughts on such a blatantly suicidal mission, but really. He was supposed to be a professional. 

You would put your spark on the line for this mission? 

Soundwave fought to stay standing as another blast of almighty heat washed over him. He knew the forward decks of the Ark got hot- it was lodged into an active volcano after all- but didn’t the Autobots have heat shielding on their ships? Or air conditioning? Soundwave was fully willing to die for this, but he thought it would be at the hands of an Autobot, not overheating.

He needed to get to the Matrix before he succumbed. The idea beat through his spark and brain with sublime intention. Get to the Matrix. Get to the Matrix.

His own life would be such a small price to pay in comparison. His symbiotes were all dead now. He had no one who needed his protection, no one who really needed him alive like they did. He could die confident in the knowledge that he had prevented another generation of Cybertronians from falling to such a corrupt system. They would be free- free from functionism and the caste system and everything else- in a way they never had been before. 

The Decepticons would honor him for this, he knew. Megatron would honor this sacrifice. Even the Autobots would grow to understand why he did this, in time. Once the Primacy was truly gone, and they held the power to shape their own future, they would understand.

You would sacrifice your life for the freedom of your people.

What? Where had that thought come from?

It was true, Soundwave supposed- that was exactly what he was doing. But the thought… resonated strangely, in a way he couldn’t really describe. 

The temperature was culprit number one. Overheating had a way of sneaking up on you, or so Soundwave had heard. He pinged his sensor net for a more accurate temperature analysis.

Ambient Temperature: 33°C, it provided dutifully, Systems temperature: Nominal.

That didn’t make any sense. Or, actually, it made perfect sense; that’s about how hot the front of the Ark would be on any other day. The Autobots’ human allies often whined about it, but it was perfectly comfortable to the average Cybertronian.

So why did Soundwave feel as if he was going to melt?

You would work to correct the evils of the past.

Soundwave didn’t realize he had reached his destination until the brilliant light of the Matrix burst through the open doorway, consuming everything before him. 

Belatedly, he realized he wasn’t having second thoughts.

You would claim all Cybertronians as your people.

Because these weren’t his thoughts at all.

He should have destroyed it. That’s what he came here for. But the Matrix pulled him in, yanked him forward, and the thought of destroying it was… inconceivable. The security measures Soundwave had developed painstaking plans to breach and circumvent slid away and deactivated, like they were never there. 

Soundwave reached for the Matrix of Leadership. To claim it, or to destroy it? He didn’t know, couldn’t tell.

Nearby, someone was shouting. He couldn’t tell who or why.

You would be perfect.

And Soundwave was consumed by the heat.

--- --- ---

More chapters are up right now on AO3! Tell me if you want more here on tumblr, also.

[fenheart87]

Tall Cappuccino

Felt good to finish something and it started the ball rolling on other WIPs that I've been neglecting. Enjoy this humorous one shot based off my mom and her best friend creating a "coffee code" to talk to about cute guys and it backfiring. Did not work as well as it does for these two though.

“Girl, you need to get over Greg-” Alya started, opening the door to the coffee shop and holding it for Marinette and a few other customers.

“His name was Fillippe.”

“Or whatever his name was and get back out there! You are so sweet and beautiful and your parents have the best pastries in Paris-”

“Are you proposing marriage to me or my family?” Marinette frowned playfully when Alya reached out to pull her ponytail.

“Hush you, my point is we need to scout for potential dates for you. We can treat it like undercover research, a much better version than those schemes from our lycee days. Oh, we can have a codename for the hot guys we see so we’re not obvious about it. So where do we want to start looking?” The reporter stepped in line, glancing at the menu with half hearted interest.

“My dreams?” Marinette scooted forward so a barista could pass through, the balance of that many drinks was an amazing feat.

“I’m just saying you need to open your horizons and take a chance. You could get any guy’s number you so much as smile at and while I’m glad you don’t use your powers for evil, you need to use them to snag a boyfriend.” “All lies, do you think the caramel mocha will have caramel or just be a poor imitation?” Marinette pondered aloud, scanning the drink specials but not impressed by anything.

“You’re so coffee obsessed… Hold on a minute, what if we made a code using coffee to scope out some guys? Then maybe you obsession for coffee will lead you to true love instead of just a heart attack!” Alya grinned at her suggestion, not in the slightest put off by the dark glare coming from the shorter woman.

“Fine, since you’re so adamant about it, you buy me coffee every time we meet up to find my ‘perfect cup of coffee’ and you have a deal.”

“See, you’re already getting into it!”

The agreement took a couple weeks before they could actually start looking as both women had jobs that kept them busy and spare time didn’t match up often. A couple weeks later saw Marinette walking into the coffee shop named The Brew and savoring the rich smells of freshly crushed coffee beans. Alya had texted her that she made it first and had ordered a large cup of the newest creation for her and to not be late if she didn’t want cold coffee. Spotting her friend’s red hair, Marinette made her way over to the table and dropped herself into her chair.

“You are a zombie before coffee, it’s kind of creepy.” Her best friend pushed forward the cappuccino topped with whipped cream and sprinkles. “Drink up, I need your brain working to remember our code or we’ll never get anywhere.”

“I told you not to over plan it and you did anyways didn’t you?” Alya nudged the drink closer until she had to pick it up to keep it from falling in her lap. “Fine, three minutes.”

“I know girl, now you enjoy that and I’m going to get you a muffin and I want a scone.”

Marinette eyed the drink in suspicion but took a sip anyway, it was mocha with chocolate chips. Sighing in relief that the sprinkles were harmless decoration, until she would get to the part where she risked inhaling them with her coffee, the designer took a few more drinks. Slowly she could feel the warm feeling spread, her mind finally kicking in gear and half of it planning out her work for the day and the other half worrying about what insanity her best friend cooked up.

“Okay, so you like cappuccinos the best and you like chocolate chip muffins. Cappuccino is like an 8-10 and muffin is 5-8, hot chocolate can be a 3-5 and water is anything less. That’s how we can judge the drinks and get a better idea on what your perfect drink is.”

“You are terrible but okay, free coffee is hard to say no to.”

The first day was a total bust, no Alya I’m sure I’m not interested in girls, and they tried two coffee shops before they had to get back to their lives. Meeting up whenever they could was nice because it brought them closer instead of being too busy to talk longer than a few short calls or messages here and there. Although Alya enjoyed sending pictures and asking for a coffee rating of random guys, to which Marinette would reply with the matching emoji and sometimes even send some artfully taken pictures back.

A random Tuesday found them back at The Brew and for once Marinette beat Alya to the coffee shop. Deciding as it was midday and not early morning, she could wait for her coffee supplier to get there before ordering, Marinette found a table. Pulling out her phone to check for any updates from her best friend, and seeing none, she pulled out her current draft sketches and set to fixing or modifying the parts that didn’t blend with the look she was going for. Every so often the bell would ding and draw her attention, even going so far as to take a picture and send it with an emoji to Alya who was still stuck at work.

“Okay, this isn’t working but why?” The designer mumbled to herself, attention broken easily as she needed a distraction and turned her gaze to the door. A mistake because the man that walked in was stunning in the subtle smokey way, ripped jeans and well loved hoodie complete with steel toed boots. After her designer side was satisfied she skipped to his face and lost her breath. Blue, blue eyes brought out by the blue tipped hair and easy smile as he waved to the baristas in greeting. Quickly she opened her phone and texted Alya a hastily typed CAPPUCCINO. In perfect but dramatic timing her best friend loved so much, Alya walked in right as she sent that text.

“Hey girl, sorry to keep you waiting. There was an issue with the main story and printing and it was a nightmare! You didn’t have to wait to get a coffee, I would’ve paid you back.” She took off her jacket and hung it on the back of the chair along with her reporter messenger bag. “Oh well, I’m here now so what do you want today?”

“That tall cappuccino.”

“You and your obsession girl I swear. Should I surprise you with the flavor?”

“Nope, I want that tall blueberry cappuccino.” Marinette tried to hint towards the cute guy who was giving his order at the counter.

“Tall blueberry cappuccio?” Alya studied her for a moment, following her eyes to the blue haired stranger. “Oh, oh, got it! Good taste girl, you sure want the blueberry cappuccino? Different from your usual tastes.”

“Were you not the one who said I need to broaden my horizons and try new things with an open mind?”

“True, well then I’m hungry so I’ll be back.” Alya joined the line and left Marinette waiting anxiously. To distract herself, she focused on her sketch that was being stubborn. A ding from her phone had her admitting defeat and putting away her sketches in the folder she carried. Turning on her phone, the designer saw a picture message from Alya titled hot cappuccino. Clicking on it, the picture loaded to show a very fine rear encased in well loved black denim which happened to be the exact same pants her tall cappuccino happened to be wearing. She was going to kill her best friend.

"They don't have any muffins but you can share my scone if you want." Alya returned to her seat, offering the scone to Marinette who declined.

“Excuse me, I overheard you mention that you were interested in the tall cappuccino with blueberry so I thought I would bring you one.” Said tall blueberry cappuccino had stopped by Marinette’s side of the table and waited with a smile, with drink in hand. Alya pursed her lips in amusement, hiding her laughter by taking a sip of coffee. The designer’s desperate look of ‘oh god why me, help!’ was missed by the stranger as his name was called for the rest of his order.

“One scone and croissant roll for Luka, who had the order for the blue caps!”

“Ah, that’s me,” He smiled at the dazed woman, setting the drink down. “I hope you enjoy the drink. It’s a favorite of mine and Joel makes it the best if you want to order it again. Have a good day ladies.”

“Alya!”

“Mm, very nice cappuccino.”

“Alya, no! You just can’t leave me like that!”

“Babe,” Alya looked around and lifted her feet to look under them, “where exactly did I go?”

“You know what I mean!” Marinette groaned and hid her face behind her hands. “I totally had no response and I was not expecting that at all. He must think I’m lame.”

“There’s always the next cappuccino or you can always reorder the blueberry.” The reporter relished in the drawn out groan from her best friend, finishing off her scone.

The pair ran into Mr. Blueberry Cappuccino a few more times over their next several outings to scope out possible dates or let Marinette vent about her failed ones. The Brew was becoming a second home and the employees were starting to remember the woman and their orders. Today they even had their favorites prepared only to find out it all had been paid for.

"What?"

"Already paid for honey, someone must think you're cute." Joel winked in a flirty way, making Marinette laugh as his boyfriend smacked his shoulder on the way by.

"Uh-huh, what makes you say that exactly?"

"Well honey, not just any man buys a pretty lady a drink. And not just any man continues to do so when his lady of interest is missing a very big clue." Joel smiled and waved to an elderly couple as they left, turning to grab some muffins for the table of six for the kids. "He's not being very subtle and I feel like you don't know when someone is into you versus just likes what he sees. So, pay attention to your drink this time and please make or break his heart."

"Whatever you say Joel, whatever you say." The designer finally took her drink back to the table where Alya was already working.

"Sorry girl, I have to edit these and figure out the order by tomorrow. Any good drinks lately?"

"Bunch of water, glad to finally get a taste of my cappuccino again. Can you believe they won't let us have anything but water? Like I get it around the fabric and materials but not even in the break room." Marinette ranted waving her hands slightly until she knocked over her cup. "Oh! Geez I am such a klutz."

"Girl, when are you going to find a good luck charm to counter all that bad luck?"

"You know that's not it!" She hurried to clean up her mess, a barista dropped a rag on the table as they passed by with a tray full of muffins. Carefully she cleaned up her minor spill and waited off her cup only to notice there was a blue smudge on the outside. Taking a closer look, it seems like smeared numbers. A ten digit number. "I think it's good luck disguised as bad luck because I need to be more creative and get out of my own head. I'll be right back!"

"What? Marinette, what the heck?" The reporter watched in concern as her best friend went up to the counter and waved Joel down to ask him a question. Said barista laughed loudly and patted a disappointed Marinette on the head and gave her a refill.

"Someone has been trying to get my attention but since you always buy my drink per our agreement, he can't pay for it so he asks Joel to leave his number on the cup. Which I've been throwing away without noticing. And he won't tell me who it is!"

"Oh? Mysterious admirer vying for your attention using the thing you love the most in this world? Well do go on." The tanner of the duo teased, smiling at the half hearted smack to her arm.

"This just means I need to come here as much as I can and catch him. Or make Joel tell me."

"Marinette?" The new voice caused her to turn around to see Juleka whom she was partnering with for her latest project.

"Hey Juleka, did everything fit okay?"

"Yeah, just like always. I thought your coffee addiction was only an early morning thing?"

"Oh no, this girl could drink twice her weight in coffee and still accept another cup." Alya butted in, laughing as Marinette turned a bright shade of red.

"Why don't you go get us refills, you're not working on your project anyway."

"Fine." The reporter sighed playfully before heading to the counter.

"Sorry, best friends are always crazy."

"No worries… So what's your favorite drink so far?"

"Blueberry cappuccino, haven't really given it a fair try though since I only got a couple loo- sips before I had to leave."

"Uh-huh, a tall blueberry cappuccino huh?" Juleka glanced towards the counter where her brother was ordering, his stupid hat covering his signature hair and shot a quick text to change their order. "Ever going to try again?"

"Maybe? I seem to have attached an admirer, Joel has been writing his number on my coffee cups."

"Yeah he likes to play cupid. Kind of like how he helped me find my strawberry frappe." The dawning look of surprise turned to embarrassment very quickly. "Also, if he doesn't man up and give you his number directly, ask me and I'll straighten him out."

"Okay?" Marinette squeaked out but she was very confused as the up and coming model sashayed to the counter. A tall man moved to let her reach for a couple cups and left him with a stern glare.

"So any idea on how you're going to grill Joel as to who your mystery guy is?" Alya inquired, resting her hip against the table.

"I have no idea. I guess il just wait until my tall blueberry cappuccino shows up again." With a sigh, Marinette began packing up her papers only to be stopped by a cup sitting directly in the middle of her papers. A large drink, the blue swirls and aroma of their dark roast cappuccino tickled her senses.

"Hey so Joel told me I should uh man up so to speak and introduce myself." The designer's gaze followed the cup to the hand holding the cup, up an arm and right into the mystery guy's eyes. Who happened to be her tall cappuccino. "I uh must confess I knew about the whole code thing from the first day and I tried to have Joel help me out by putting my number on your cups but since I never got a text or call, I figured either you weren't interested or hadn't realized."

"Do you know how small he writes? It's impossible to read tiny alien chicken scratch."

"Yeah he did that on purpose. Sorry about that but I'd still like to get to know you, if you're still interested in a certain tall blueberry cappuccino?"

"Cappuccino is my favorite."

"Well Luka is your top favorite then."

"Good, Marinette is yours."

[cora-vizsla]

The Kings Pet (4)

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Word Count: 5.3K

Warnings: Angst. Like this entire thing is angst. Feelings of loss. Kidnapping. Drugged (not in great detail). Unwanted sexual advances (nothing happens and no one is hurt or touched but it is presumed it would have happened if reader wasn’t a badass).  Boba Fett doing what Boba Fett does. Cannon typical violence (reader can hear it happening but doesn’t see anything). Nothing super gory. Sex. Unprotected sex (established relationship). Fluff.

A/N: There is talk of a new character wanting sexual contact with reader that she does not reciprocate. Nothing happens and it is stopped long before it could happen. Boba Fett loses his absolute shit and beats the hell out of someone but reader does not see it. I tried to write this in a way that would get the point across without being too graphic. There is a LOT of angst in this. Please be prepared for that! If you aren’t sure if this would trigger you or upset you, please feel free to send me a message or ask and we can discuss it. I don’t want anyone to feel uncomfortable! As always, if there are any warnings I miss please let me know!

Things felt different after your time with Boba and Fennec. You couldn’t really attribute it to the actual sex aspect of things because Fennec had always been physically close to you. She still pulled you onto her lap or sat on the arm of the throne and played with your hair. It was hard to admit but no one but you were really acting any differently.

Nothing physically had changed but you felt different. You woke up in the mornings and went through your normal routine. You ended up on the floor on your pillow, but you found yourself afraid to lean on your king’s leg. You could feel him looking at you, but he never asked what was wrong. You figured it didn’t matter as long as you were doing what he wanted of you. You still slept in his bed and whenever he wanted something you were more than enthusiastic. It was the only time you felt like you were actually worth much to him.

The days passed as they normally did. Boba stayed home more healing from his injuries. Din came to visit and update the king on what was happening with Bo Katan. The more you heard about her the more you disliked her. She seemed stuck up and you hoped you didn’t need to meet her. Not that you would ever say that since it wasn’t up to you who walked into Boba’s palace.

Din looked at you often, but you didn’t move. He asked you questions every now and then, truthfully trying to be friendly, but you never had much to say. You’d answer his questions in a nice way, but you could feel there wasn’t much behind your words. He seemed to notice when he would sigh and give up trying to talk to you.

What made it worse was when Boba and Din started speaking only in Mando’a around each other. You were never sent away but they stopped using basic. You would have been able to understand even huttese but their native language was far too complicated and foreign to you. You did glance up when you heard Boba say mesh’la and occasionally Din would motion towards you. The fear and idea of Boba not wanting you anymore kept you silent and unwilling to even ask what was going on.

The moment you realized he was done with you was when he commanded you to leave the throne room. New guests had come in and he immediately told you to leave. It startled you but you obeyed immediately. Fennec didn’t even watch you walk by and it shattered your heart. You were so busy being hurt that you had missed the way he had tensed when they walked in. You had missed the threatening demeanor and the way that the guest leered at you. All you could focus on was the fact he didn’t want you.

Later that day Boba stormed into the room and said he was leaving. You stayed curled up on the bed and gave him a weak nod. He looked at you but made no move to touch you.

“When I return, we need to talk.”

“Yes sir.”

Tears slipped from your eyes when he left the room, wearing all of his gear. Fennec came in and checked on you a few times, but you didn’t speak to her other than to let her know that you were fine and didn’t need anything. You couldn’t bear to look at her knowing that soon you would be gone. You silently cried until there was no way you could anymore.

It was late, definitely dark already, before you climbed out of bed. You walked into the empty throne room and ran your fingers across the seat the man you cared so much about sat on every day. You would miss more than anything just being close to him. You sat on your pillow and leaned back against the cool material behind you.

“I’m going to miss you, Boba.”

You whispered the words but jumped when you heard a laugh come from the stairs entering the room. You stood up as three men walked in, hands on their blasters. You tried to pinpoint who they were, but you couldn’t figure out where you had seen them before.

“Did the king leave his little pet all alone?”

“It sure looks like it, doesn’t it?”

“Poor little pet. Do you need company?”

You stiffened and their voiced flooded back into your memory. They were the men that came in when Boba sent you away. You glanced over at the side to see if Fennec was near but whipped your head back towards the men when you heard a blaster click. It was pointed directly at you.

“Don’t do something stupid, doll face. If you do anything other than breathe and what we tell you to do, Boba Fett will find you dead on the floor when he comes back.”

They had been slowly moving towards you, hunting their prey. When they got close enough, the one to your left grabbed you and pulled you off the raised floor you were on. You yelped when you crashed to the floor and he laughed at you.

“I can see why he keeps you. You are a beautiful little thing on your knees.”

“Shut up. We need her in one piece. Cuff her and let’s go.”

“Alright, boss. Whatever you say.”

He hooked your arm and twisted it behind you, hooking binders to your wrist. He did the same with the other arm right after. You stumbled when he pulled you forward, trying to resist as much as you could.

“We don’t have time for this.”

You felt a sharp prick on your neck, and everything went dark.

---

Your eyes started to flutter open and you groaned. Your hands were still bound behind your back, but you were laying on your stomach. The mattress below you was dirty and you grimaced that your face was touching it. With a grunt you twisted so you could sit up.

“Finally awake. Thought maybe we had killed you.”

You looked over to your captors sitting at a small round table playing cards. The entire room was dark and cold. It still felt dry, so you wondered if you were underground somewhere on Tattooine.

“How long was I asleep?”

“Day or so. My associate gave you far too much sedative.”

You shivered at the memory of the needle hitting you. You shift your body so you could lean back against the wall and keep most of the pressure off your arms. You looked down at the chain hooked to the bracers that was firmly anchored into the wall. There wasn’t much chance of getting away.

“Why did you take me?”

The one who kept answering you scoffed and looked at you incredulously.

“You’re Boba Fetts property. When he comes looking for you, he will have to pay. Do you know how many credits we can get for the Kings pet?”

You felt your chest deflate and he noticed.

“What?”

“He was about to kick me out. He didn’t want me anymore. No one will come looking for me.”

You looked down at your knees and felt tears sting your eyes again.

“Well, we will give it a few days. If he doesn’t; you’ll still fetch a pretty penny to the right buyer.”

You curled into yourself knowing that no one would be rescuing you. You had accepted that you needed to leave but you weren’t planning on being sold off. You wished you had opened up to Din more. Maybe he would have looked for you if you hadn’t been such a pain in the ass. Fennec too. Boba didn’t want you but maybe the other two would have a shred of decency for you.

You cried while you sat and listened to them talk. They switched from basic to Huttese even though you knew it. You didn’t let them know that you knew they were going to sell you to a Hutt if Boba didn’t find you. The Hutt’s hated Boba with a passion for not stopping Jaba from getting killed so they would be thrilled to own his pet. They just weren’t going to tell them that he had already grown bored of you.

Once night fell, they decided to take turns staying up to make sure you didn’t try to break your chain. The first one was the one who had drugged you. You didn’t like how he leered at you or some of the comments he made about your legs. Though you fought it, you finally started to fall asleep. You startled awake when you heard him walking closer to you.

“Calm down, doll face. We don’t want the other guys coming out, right?”

You nodded and bit back your anger. You were fine with Boba owning you because you loved him. It was an agreement, not something being forced on you. You stomach churned thinking about anyone else touching you. As soon as he got close enough, you smashed your forehead into his nose. It hurt like hell but the blood pouring from his now broken nose was satisfying.

“You bitch!”

He backhanded you hard enough for you to taste copper in your mouth. You spit the blood in his face, and he reared back just in time for the other guys to run out.

“What the fuck are you doing!? Are you kidding me!?”

They yanked him away. One dragged him back towards where the rooms were, and their leader grabbed your chin to check your face out.

“Is that your plan now? Let your guys rape me until someone buys me?”

“Fuck. He wasn’t.. what he did wasn’t acceptable. For that I am sorry. I’ll deal with him.”

“You’re all lucky Boba isn’t looking for me. He doesn’t like people touching what is his.”

His face paled slightly as he cleaned up your face. You had a cut on your face, and it felt like you were going to have a black eye from the headbutt. Once he was done cleaning you up, he walked away and shouting ensued from the back rooms. You finally fell asleep hoping that no one would touch you.

---

You woke up to loud noises and blaster fire. You curled into yourself hoping no stray shot would hit you. There was a loud thud and yelling, telling no one to move. You flinched when heavy footsteps got closer and a hand grabbed your arm.

“Hey, hey. It’s me.”

You looked up to see Din kneeling in front of you. He unhooked the bracers quickly letting you rub at your wrists. He looked at them then up at your face. You winced when he gently grabbed your chin and moved your face to look at the damage.

“Is she okay?”

You winced again at the gravelly voice you knew to be Boba’s. Din looked back at him and shook his head.

“She’s hurt.”

“What the fuck did you do to her?”

You saw that the two left were the ones working for the one presumably dead on the floor. The one you had the least interaction with tried to explain but Boba shot him before he could say much. He stalked forward and grabbed the one who had tried to hurt you and slammed him against the wall.

“Answer me. Now.”

“Nothing. Tried to use her for what she’s good for but the stupid bitch headbutt me.”

“What she’s good for?”

Boba’s head tilted just slightly to the right. The man in front of him had no idea just how dangerous that was.

“Figured since she was known for you being your little slut you had her trained right. Guess not.”

Boba growled and grabbed him by the throat.

“She is mine.”

You winced when the crack of bone rang out in the small room as his face was met by a fist. He continued punching him over and over. A sob slipped through your lips and Din pulled you to him.

“Don’t look. Hold onto me and I’ll get you out of here.”

The silver Mandalorian wrapped his arms around you and carried you out of the room as Boba continued to beat on the man who presumably would have raped you if given the chance. You desperately wanted to get the sickening sound out of your head, so you focused in on Dins voice.

“Did he?”

“No. I fought back, and the other guys pulled him away. It wasn’t.. it wasn’t their plan.”

Once you were outside Din set you down and knelt in front of you, inspecting your injuries more thoroughly. You hissed when his fingers touched too close to your wounds and he huffed a sigh.

“Fennec should have medical supplies to take care of you. Once Boba-“

You both looked over at the sound of his spurs got closer. His shoulders were taught, and you shivered at the blood he had spattered on the front of his armor. He looked down at you, so you averted your eyes quickly. He balled his fists and started walking.

“Time to go back.”

Din helped you to your feet and you clung to his arm. Your legs weren’t hurt but they were cramping from sitting for too long. You pushed through and all three of you climbed into Slave I. No one spoke a word on the short flight back to the palace. When the ramp descended Fennec was waiting. She huffed out a sigh of relief when she saw you, but Boba quickly got in her face.

“This is your fault. You had one job and it was to protect her until I got back.”

“I-it was my fault. Boba, it wasn’t anything that Fennec did. I walked-“

He whipped around and pointed at you effectively shutting you up.

“We will speak later. This has nothing to do with you.”

You wrapped your arms around yourself and walked around them, heading into the palace. You heard Din’s feet behind you, but you stopped. You had no idea where you were going. Boba had been wanting to tell you to leave, that much you knew. You knew it deep in your soul. You didn’t feel right going to his room and Fennec was going to be furious at you.

“Why don’t you sit down, and I can take care of that cut?”

“I’m fine but thank you.”

Din said your name, your real name, and you turned to look at him.

“You need your wounds looked at. Let me do it. Please.”

You finally nodded and he led you over to the raised floor by the throne. He stood to your side by your knees and gently pat at the cut on your face with the medical supplies that had been sitting there. You started crying so he stopped quickly.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No. Sorry. No. It wasn’t anything that you did. I.. I’ll be fine.”

He hesitated but started cleaning the cut again.

“The bruise is going to be nasty. You headbutt him?”

“I didn’t want him to touch me and my hands were tied.”

“I’m not chastising you. It’s impressive. My headbutts usually leave me less damaged. Maybe I need to get you a helmet.”

You gave him a teary laugh and smiled.

“I don’t have any bacta but I think you’ll be okay. Shouldn’t scar as long as you take care of it.”

“Thanks, Din.”

“You’re welcome. Is there anything I can do?”

You looked up at him and took a deep breath.

“If.. When Boba.. will you take me with you? I don’t care if you drop me off on a random planet I just.. I can’t be out on my own on Tattooine again.”

“You don’t want to be here?”

“Of course I want to be here but.. He’s going to tell me to leave. Especially now. He wasted his time looking for me when he had so many other things to do. He’s saved my life twice now.”

“If he didn’t want to look for you, he wouldn’t have. What is this about?”

“He thinks.. he thinks I’m only here to use him. You heard what he said. He thinks I’m only here because I benefit from it. He keeps Fennec here to make sure I don’t run. He doesn’t trust me and he.. he doesn’t want me the way I want him.”

You hiccupped a sob and covered your mouth, trying to calm yourself down.

“When he was hurt you mean? I told you not to take that personally. He was injured and scared.”

“No. He keeps Fennec here all the time. Even before that. It’s so I don’t run.”

“Is this why you’ve been so quiet lately? Boba thought he did something wrong.”

“What? No! No I just.. everything he did I could tell that he was getting tired of me.”

Din stood up tall and looked down at you. Boba was making his way down the stairs and walked directly to you. You clenched your jaw at the blood all over him and shivered. He grabbed your chin more gently than you expected and looked at the bruises and cut.

“I cleaned them up for her. I don’t have any bacta.”

“I just sent Fennec for some”

He picked up your hands and looked at your wrists, swearing under his breath.

“You need rest. Go lay down.”

“I-I’m okay.”

“I’m not asking.”

He looked down at you but with his helmet on you weren’t sure just how angry he was. You slipped off the ledge you were sitting on and went back to the bedroom. You heard the two of them starting to speak in Mando’a and you wished desperately you knew what they were saying. Once you were in the bedroom you sat on the edge of the bed and sighed. The entire room smelled like him and it hurt knowing you soon wouldn’t be there anymore. Your mind was racing and the last thing you wanted to do was sleep.

“I told you to lay down.”

You jumped at the voice and saw Boba with his helmet off leaning against the doorway.

“S-sorry.”

He pulled his armor off and set it down before walking to you. He knelt down and moved so he was between your knees. He put his hands on your thighs and you internally cursed knowing he would feel how much you were shaking.

“Tell me what happened.”

“I.. I went into the throne room for.. they came in and held a blaster to me. It was late and Fennec was already asleep. It wasn’t her fault please don’t be mad-“

“What happened next?”

“They put the binders on me behind my back and when I tried to stop them from taking me, they gave me drugs. I don’t know what they were, but I was out for almost a day they said. They laughed and said they thought they killed me.”

Boba growled and tensed his hands slightly.

“What next?”

“They told me that you would pay for me. They were just waiting for you to get ahold of them and pay whatever fee they named. But I told them that you wouldn’t be coming to find me so they started finding a Hutt that would buy me instead.”

“Why wouldn’t I have come to get you?”

“I.. I know that you’ve grown tired of me and I’m becoming more of a-“

“Who said that?”

He snapped at you and you shrunk away from him. He grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him.

“Who told you that?���

“N-no one. I could see it. When you were hurt you.. you said that you knew I was only here because of what you could give me. Fennec is here to keep me from running. I owe you and I can never give you enough to repay that. Now you’ve saved me again and I have nothing to give you. You don’t even trust me not to bolt out the door.”

He fell silent and tears started falling again. He said your name gently and motioned for you to look at him fully.

“I never should have said that to you. Mesh’la, I don’t think you’re going to run. It’s what I fear. I fear that one morning I will wake up and you will be gone. I will not hold you against your will and I fear that you stay because you do feel like you owe me. You owe me nothing.”

“W-what?”

“Oh, you silly girl. I care for you very deeply. Your insecurities are not one sided. I often find myself wondering why such a beautiful woman would want to stay with a scarred old man like me.”

“Boba, you mean everything to me. I just want to make you happy and be by your side. You started talking to Din in Mando’a and then sent me away so I thought..”

“We were speaking of you. We were trying to figure out how to talk to you. Din tried but you were so shut off he didn’t think he was making progress.”

“You’ve never sent me away before.”

“I knew they were trouble. And they were. They took you from me.”

He cupped both sides of your face gently and gave you a gentle smile.

“If it is your wish to leave, I will not stop you though I would be devastated to see you go. However, no one will ever take you from me. I will scour the galaxy to find you and keep you safe. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I gave those men mercy for killing them quickly. Well, two of them at least.”

“The one you beat was the one that want to...”

“I know, mesh’la. I am so sorry you had to go through that. He will never touch you again. No one will unless it’s what you want.”

You nodded at him, still nervous to look him directly in the eyes. He pulled you to his chest and held you tight. You tentatively wrapped your arms around him in return.

“Did I scare you?”

“What?”

“When I hurt them. Did I scare you?”

“A little. Just the sound.”

“The sound?”

“I could hear his bones snapping.”

“Sounded satisfying to me.”

You looked up at him with a skeptical look, so he laughed at you.

“I am not a soft man, mesh’la. I will always do what it takes even if that means killing. They were not the first and they will not be the last.”

“I know. I just didn’t expect you to kill for me.”

“There are very few I wouldn’t kill for you.”

“Are you mad at Fennec?”

He sighed and moved to sit down next to you. Once he did, he pulled you, so you were straddling him.

“Yes. She should have stayed in here with you. We all could tell something was wrong. She thought you were upset with her.”

“Why would I be upset with her? She’s been nothing but kind to me.”

“You started acting different after you let her touch you.”

You felt your face flush and shook your head.

“No. I wasn’t ever upset about that. It was because I thought you wanted me to leave.”

“Never.”

“Then what did you want to talk about?”

“I was going to ask you if you wanted to be here. I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t stand seeing you so unhappy.”

“Oh.”

“My sweet girl, I am so sorry that my actions made you believe I didn’t want you to be here. When I have to go you are what keeps me coming back. You are one of the very few things that have brought me happiness in my very dark life.”

He kissed you more gently than he ever had before. You sighed and finally let yourself melt into his arms. You knew that you had been keeping yourself away from him for the most part but even before that, he never showed that much passion or care when he would touch you. It was more than you ever could have hoped for.

“You may be my pet, my princess, but you hold so much power over me. I can’t promise you an easy life, but I will always make it as enjoyable for you as I can.”

You nodded; any words you possibly could have responded with caught in your throat.

“Din told me you asked to go with him. Is that what you want?”

“No. I just couldn’t stay on this maker forsaken planet without you.”

“You never have to.”

He stood, turning so he could gently lay you down on the bed. He pulled everything but his pants off and climbed in next to you. He gently ran his fingers across your bruised face and swore in a mix of Basic and Mado’a.

“I must look like a mess.”

“You are still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

You felt your face flush, so you turned away from him. He gently turned you back to face him with a sound of annoyance.

“Don’t hide from me, mesh’la.”

He kissed you again, gently, careful not to hurt you. His hands ran down your body and started to slowly and gently pull your clothes off. Part of you was terrified of him seeing more bruises but you shuddered when you remembered how dirty the bed was that you were on. Getting the clothes off would be a blessing. Once all of your clothes were discarded, he found each bruise and mark on your body and kissed them gently. You felt like your chest was going to cave in at how adored and cherished you felt. It wasn’t something you thought you would ever get from Boba.

“I am so sorry, cyar’ika. I will never let anyone touch you again. I’ll destroy planets just to keep you safe.”

“Come here.”

He looked up at you with dark eyes, blown wide with lust and something else you couldn’t quite pinpoint. You were suddenly afraid of him chastising you for trying to break out of your dynamic. You had never tried to be anything but obedient. Instead, he moved up, gently pulling your legs so they were wrapped around his waist. He held himself above you and kissed you gently.

“Tell me what you want, cyar’ika. Tell me what you need.”

“You. I just need you.”

He slipped his pants off and discarded them on the floor quickly, moving back to you. He kissed you deeply again, stealing your breath. When he gently pressed himself into you, a soft moan slipped from your lips. You had been intimate with him when you thought he wanted you to leave, but you’d been absent; afraid to truly let yourself feel anything for him.

“Such beautiful sounds you make.”

You expected him to turn brutal and rough since he was fully inside of you. It never happened. The only way you could describe what he was doing was making love to you. His hands held you gently and his kisses were even more delicate. He treated you like you were a prize that would easily break if he moved the wrong way. He pulled his face away just far enough to look into your eyes.

“Gar cuyir ner oyay.  Ner darasuum kar'taylir darasuum.” (You are my life. My eternal love.)

You had no idea what he said to you, but you felt the sincerity. You felt the adoration coming from him. You felt stupid for thinking that the man completely consuming you would ever want you to leave. The longer he made love to you the more you felt it. He had never uttered the words to you, at least not that you understood, but his actions showed you.

He loved you.

It wasn’t very long before you were coming undone. It wasn’t the usual brutal climax that would hit you so hard you saw stars. This slowly built until there was nothing in existence around you. It was only you and Boba. Only you and your King. You were surprised when he finished with you, staying close. He peppered your face with kisses as you came down.

“Welcome back, princess.”

You felt tears starting to betray your overwhelmed state as he looked down at you. He tried to ask you what was wrong, but you pulled him close to you and finally let yourself truly cry in front of him. He held you close as he rolled to the side, not wanting to hurt you.

“You truly thought I didn’t want you anymore.”

You nodded and tried to wipe your eyes, but he beat you to it. He cradled your face and wiped every tear that fell from your eyes.

“I wish you would have just spoken to me. I could have quelled all of those fears.”

“I’m sorry, Boba.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry that you felt like you couldn’t talk to me.”

“I have a question, if that’s okay?”

“Of course, mesh’la.”

“What.. what did you say to me? When we were.. what did that mean?”

“I told you that you are my life and my eternal love.”

Your breath hitched again, and he chuckled lightly, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You need to learn Mando’a if you’re going to keep hanging around Mandalorians.”

You laughed lightly and then put your hand over your mouth, trying not to laugh even harder.

“What?”

“I just.. at least Mando’a is prettier than Huttese.”

“You speak that garbage language?”

You nodded again, laughing behind your hand.

“I would much prefer to learn your language. I never know what you’re saying to me.”

“I’m usually calling you beautiful. Mesh’la. Sounds better than fucking Huttese.”

You laughed out fully again, and he tucked you against his chest, pulling the sheet across your bodies. You reveled in his touch and comfort, finally letting yourself love him the way you wanted to. He may have been one of the most dangerous men in the universe, but to you he would always be salvation.

---

Bonus:

“Stay still.”

“Ouch!”

“I told you to stay still.”

“This is stupid.”

“So is not using bacta when it can heal up those ugly bruises faster.”

“Fennec stop being so damn rough!”

“Then sit still.”

You huffed out a sigh and tried to not move. You hissed when she pressed her fingers against your bruised face, and it earned you a glare.

“No more headbutting people. Got it?”

“Din said he’s going to get me a helmet so I can.”

She finally laughed and kissed the top of your head once she was done.

“There. Now leave it alone and your face will heal much faster.”

“Thank you.”

She sat down and pulled you into her lap.

“You scared me when you were gone, pet.”

“You thought I ran.”

“No. I just knew something was bothering you, but I saw the footprints. I saw they dragged you out. So, I called Boba even though I knew I was going to get my ass handed to me.”

“Well, thank you for calling him. I was almost sold to a Hutt.”

She grimaced and then smirked at you, her usual mirth returning.

“What would you have done then? I doubt they would have felt you headbutt them. You’d just be all slimy.”

“Ew, Fennec. I don’t even want to think about that.”

She laughed and wrapped her arms around you, holding you close. You rest your head on her shoulder and sighed.

“I’m glad you’re safe, pet.”

“Me too. I don’t want to be anywhere but here.”

Tag List: Kings Pet: @promiscuoussatan 

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[featherfur]

Big Knife Meet Little Blind Ch.1

Xue Yang meets A-Qing before he meets Xiao Xingchen and decides he needs a disciple. Somehow he ends up with a kid, a heart, and an absolute mess of a cultivation world.

Warnings: Gore, Blood, Murder, Questionable Child Rearing, Xue Yang and A-Qing's potty mouth, Xue Yang isn't a good person and needs to get there, will eventually be SongXiaoXue, this is for fun and updates will be sporadic if at all so read at your own risk

The timeline's a little wonky to make it fit better. Xue Yang is 15 and A-Qing meets him at 4 around the time that Wei Wuxian dies. This is a mix of MDZS Novel and The Untamed, mostly the MDZS Novel but I'll take some liberties and cross over.

Read me on: AO3. Chapter Two

There were a lot of moments in Xue Yang’s life where he could look back on and go wow that was fucking stupid. Not that he would ever admit to that and, being fifteen, would absolutely not learn from his past mistakes. Unless it was to kill someone a little better, but that’s not the point.

The point is that Xue Yang managed to acquire a four year old child and he wasn’t thinking about how much of a responsibility that was, so much as he was wondering how long a child had to wait before they could hold a sword. The man who had helped Xue Yang cultivate a golden core a few years back had always chattered on and on about how you needed a young disciple so they’d never listen to anyone else.

That was probably good advice considering Xue Yang had killed him when he turned thirteen for being a general pain in the ass. (If anyone remembered the wild child who had flung themselves forward with a sword to kill the old man after watching him kick a child under the wheels of a cart, they were already dead or had the sense not to bring it up after watching only one person walk out of the scene alive.)

A-Qing was a quiet thing, usually. She’d managed to swindle Xue Yang out of a few coins by pleading about being blind and starving while wearing ragged clothing to sell it better, only to get caught a few minutes later when she ran directly to him to hide from whoever she’d stolen from. Xue Yang was impressed with her almost immediately and simply carried her off with the promise of dinner.

Xue Yang did not have a soft spot for abandoned kids, they weren’t his problem obviously. He did however have an incessant need to have things and he wanted a disciple. One that would be loyal to him and him only. It wasn’t like that was hard to do, people were so eager to give themselves over to someone else. Even the old man had been easy to fool into believing anything Xue Yang had said.

So there he was, fifteen, with a round-faced and probably feral four year old on his knee devouring a loaf of bread, and he finally realized that it may have been a stupid decision. He didn’t actually want to raise a child, what did one even do with a kid?

He was vaguely certain that you had to feed and water them but what else? Train them to sit and stay?

He probably should have taken his chances with someone a little older, around eight or so, so he could just hand them a sword and that would be all.

Then again, he realized with one hand moving to the back of A-Qing’s neck, he could still do that. No one had to know he grabbed the little brat and honestly a quick death was more merciful than dropping her back on the street, probably the only mercy Xue Yang had ever actually known.

White eyes blinked up at him, completely uncomprehending of the danger she was in, and then they flashed with something. She started patting herself down quickly, finding a small purse after a few seconds and pushed it towards him.

“What the hell is this?” Xue Yang grumbled, flicking it open and half expecting to find old food or bugs. Instead it was a pouch filled with money. A-Qing’s eyes were bright with the glimmering all bratty kids had when they got away with something they shouldn’t have.

“That’s why I was running.” She said pleasantly, either unaware or uncaring of any sort of moral dilemma other people would have. “Here. To pay you back.”

Her words weren’t the smoothest, and she didn’t have any idea of how to ‘pay him back’, but somehow his heart managed to soften just enough for him to move his hand from her neck. She was already prepared to steal, she had no problems faking blindness, and she seemed attached to him. He could work with this.

And, well, if he got annoyed he really could just kill her later.

“Well, Little Blind,” He hummed and pocketed the money to offer her a piece of fruit instead this time, “I think we’re going to work well together.”

_

Xue Yang thought everything was going well, he trained privately under a new master provided by Jin Guangyao during the day, then he returned to the little shack he had and made sure A-Qing hadn’t died while he was gone. It worked well for them and A-Qing didn’t seem to mind sitting next to the river for hours until he returned home as long as there was food to shove into her mouth.

Every day he’d come home to find her with one of her numerous sticks slapping at the water and the fish playfully. Sometimes she actually managed to trap one and they got to cook it for dinner. Other times she was so soaked with water that Xue Yang made the executive decision that it was Bath day and dropped her right back into the river to scrub both of them off and take the time to scold A-Qing for being a menace and a brat and ruining the nice things Xue Yang gave her.

The scoldings only worked for the first week and by the second A-Qing had turned the scoldings back on him, for coming home with blood on him.

Him. Xue Yang, a well known delinquent and killer, was being scolded by a four year old.

Somehow it managed to be more amusing than annoying and Xue Yang just dropped fish guts on her hair until she yowled like a cat.

For the first year it was rather peaceful and nice, not that Xue Yang would ever say it out loud, to come home to actually have someone there. Not to mention when he managed to wrangle her into half decent clothes and could take her with him into town, suddenly people were much more willing to trade things for half price. He could also release her like a dog and watch her disappear into the crowd and meet back up with her ten minutes later with a purse full of stolen money or whatever shiny ornament they’d seen and wanted.

Once he’d even brought her to his training when he knew he would be experimenting with the fierce corpses. She’d been mystified immediately, holding onto his hand as she leaned as close to the cages as she’d dared and turned to look up at him.

“Are they dead?”

“Yep,” He chirped happily, scooping her up onto his hip and moving closer. “Want to see what they can do?”

At her nod, Xue Yang called out to the corpse closest to him pulling at the resentful energy to command it. It wasn’t as easy as Wei Wuxian had it with his flute, though Xue Yang would do anything to have a chance to talk to him about it, but with the thick needles Xue Yang had shoved in their head the day before it was manageable.

Obeying his commands the corpse turned slowly towards one of the unconscious humans slumped against the wall in the back. Xue Yang walked with the corpse so A-Qing didn’t have to strain her neck, and with a flick of resentful energy demanded that the corpse rip the human open starting with the ribs.

A-Qing screamed when the corpse buried it’s fist in the human’s stomach and gripped the ribs, pulling and pulling until it tore the flesh, a dying scream echoing around the room. Her face was buried in his neck long enough that Xue Yang was starting to think maybe that gore wasn’t good enrichment for children and maybe he really should have read those books the Aunty from the dumpling shop gave him.

He didn’t want to break A-Qing, what use was she if she was broken? But how else could a kid get used to blood if it wasn’t shown to them?

Maybe, he thought with a subconscious stroke of her hair, he should have started with killing a chicken for dinner. Or maybe a cat, though A-Qing really liked cats so he’d have to pick a dog or a bird so she wouldn’t cry too much.

Then A-Qing chanced another glance, fingers still curled into the neckline of his robes, and seemed to be watching in fascination as the fierce corpse pulled out each organ and devoured them. She still shrank away when Xue Yang stepped closer to the cage but she didn’t scream again and Xue Yang knew he had this parenting thing down.

Kids were easy, you just had to feed and water them and show them some blood and they were happy.

“What do you think? Want to save the tongue for dinner?” Xue Yang teased her, cackling madly when she gave him a disgusted look.

“He didn’t wash his hands, it’s dirty, you said not to eat dirty food.” A-Qing scowled at him like she thought he was pranking her.

“Yes, yes of course, silly me.” He snickered despite himself, turning to place her down on one of the stools and approaching the cage alone. Despite A-Qing’s grumbling he still ordered the fierce corpse to rip out the tongue and bring it to him.

“I’m not eating that.” A-Qing spat when she saw him grab it with his bare hands. Xue Yang barely gave her an irritated look before he was moving towards the small fire pit and snagging a tea kettle.

Say what you want about him, Xue Yang still personally thought that Jin Guangyao was more insane than he was just for the fact that he had an entire set up for tea right next to a corpse cage.

“You’ll eat whatever I give you, brat.” Xue Yang snapped over at her before dropping the tongue into the kettle with water and set it over the pit. “Besides, this isn’t for you.”

He paused as took in the potential consequences of his actions for the first and probably last time of his life. He couldn’t stick a finger on why but he knew he didn’t want Jin Guangshan to find out about A-Qing. He’d been hiding her well, though he was sure Jin Guangyao had an idea, he didn’t want either Jin masterminds to know exactly how close Xue Yang was to her or what she looked like.

If he took the tongue tea to Jin Guangyao then he would want to see what Xue Yang was doing which would lead him right back to A-Qing. But Xue Yang really wanted to watch him drink it. Maybe instead he could ask for a few disciples to see what the effects of drinking human flesh tea vs fierce corpse flesh tea were.

The temptation tugged at him for a while before an actual tug made him look down.

A-Qing squeezed between him and the fire pit and bent down to light it with the flint and steel next to it. She had thought he wasn’t moving because he couldn’t figure out how to light the fire!

Xue Yang didn’t know if he was warmed by that or irritated that she thought he couldn’t do something so simple. Still, he just watched as she carefully set the logs on fire and nearly lost the flint into the inferno as the flames licked at her hands. They were moving faster than her little hands could get away and he knew immediately she would be burnt if he didn’t step in

He covered them with his own on instinct, ignoring the way the heat burned his knuckles and tugged her to the safety of his side instead. He could see the glistening skin on the back of his hands that were proof of his idiotic move and glared down at her. She grabbed for his hands, shrinking down when she saw the fury on his face.

“How many times have I told you not to play with fire? How stupid are you? Look what you did.” He snapped, ripping his hands away from her and staring at the bubbling skin instead. Forget how stupid she was, what the fuck was his problem? Why did he intervene instead of letting her learn her lesson?

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry Yang-ge, I didn’t-” A-qing babbled as Xue Yang cursed at the pain steadily increasing. He kicked the pot of water and tongue over onto the fire and grabbed her by the back of her robes.

She yelped as she was dragged forward towards the exit, Xue Yang slowly getting quieter and quieter even as he radiated fury and killing intent. The hand on the back of her robes was tightening by the second, dragging her so quickly that her feet stumbled and he was hauling her across the floor instead.

She’d felt Xue Yang come home with the aftereffects of resentful energy clinging to him but she’d never felt him like this. It was suffocating and nauseating, but she was too terrified to even scream. Everything changed so quickly she didn’t know what to think, one moment he was laughing and now he.. He .. he was going to....

He didn’t respond when she called out to him, ignoring her yelp when her knees hit the stairs he was climbing.

Xue Yang was actively burning with murderous intent, he hated pain and when he was hurting he wanted others to hurt too. Even something as simple as his own accidental burns was enough to pour gasoline on the constant coals of fury that he held within him. He could almost taste blood in the air and craved being able to do so.

The crunch of bones under his heel was a building urge, and his hand tightened over the robes until it was clear A-Qing was lucky he hadn’t grabbed her by the neck or it’d be snapped. The familiar feeling of his sword plunging into flesh was like a phantom limb and his blood craved to feel it anew. To refresh that wonderful pleasure as he had it memorised and fill his ears with more screams then just echoes.

He finally made it to the last step, flinging open the door and tossing A-Qing in front of him. She flailed and landed in the dirt, eyes shining with tears even as Jiangzai was unsheathed.

“Yang-ge!” She cried, covering her eyes to protect herself.

A moment later she opened them when nothing came. Instead of Jiangzai being plunged into her belly it was buried in the chest of a Jin disciple who’d been unlucky enough to come check what the commotion was when he heard Xue Yang stomping up the steps.

Xue Yang looked at the corpse on his sword with blank eyes, twitching Jiangzai so the man fell to the ground in a heap instead. Usually he’d be slightly more careful so as to not invoke the wrath of Sect Leader Jin or Jin Guangyao, but this disciple had seen A-Qing and so his life was forfeit as far as Xue Yang cared.

He pointed at her, then the direction of home.

“Go home.” He ordered and in a flash she was running off.

He blinked twice to get the image of her in the dirt out of his mind, trying to push away the reminder that not even ten years ago that had been him.

When the thought wouldn’t leave him, he buried Jiangzai into the body of the Jin disciple a few more times and dragged the corpse downstairs to see if he could bring it’s resentful soul back for some fun. He couldn’t hurt A-Qing, but he knew what he could hurt to feed the powerful urge to cause pain.

[thecagedsong]

Forgotten Light: Chapter 5

A/N: Hi everyone, next chapter here. Back to Seth. You might recognize some bits from a Knox & Seth bonding fic I posted some months ago, but it’s different in the story and I still really like it. Enjoy!

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Chapter 5: Agitated

Have to take care of the sanctuary. Have to take care of the sanctuary. Have to take care of the sanctuary.

Seth’s mantra had stopped meaning anything ten minutes ago, but mantras were all about repetition, right? Maybe if he said it enough times, he would actually believe it. Because what he wanted, what he needed to be doing, was going after Kendra. And he was pacing at the top of Seth Tower to keep himself from doing something reckless without a plan. He could feel the elements of a plan buzzing in his head, and his last couple hadn’t turned out too badly. If only he could put them all together. It had been twelveish hours since they lost Kendra, he needed to get it together soon.

They had dealt Celebrant three deliberate blows: claiming their staff (complete with Kendra telling him off and Seth rebuilding the Keep), having the Somber Knight survive striking him in his own castle after taking away his title of caretaker (Wonder how the dragonslayer was doing? Probably suffering), and finally, denying him the Wizenstone. If the dragon king was smart, he’d take some time to lick his wounds.

Which meant Seth wasn’t needed here. 

He didn’t have enough proof for his grandparents, but he knew Ronodin was behind Kendra’s kidnapping. It didn’t matter that the Sphinx was likely the one who took the barrel at Fablehaven, only Ronodin knew Kendra had lost her memory. Kendra was more vulnerable than she had ever been, fairykind or not, and Seth couldn’t watch over some butt-hurt dragons when his sister needed him.

If Seth had been the one kidnapped, Kendra would never give up on him. But she wouldn’t abandon her duty as caretaker either. What could he do? What would she do?

A red-maned dragon reared its head over the inside walls of the keep, and Seth’s muscles seized into place.

“I’ve come to alert you about a message from Stormguard,” Marat said. “It is addressed to the Caretaker, and your grandparents are waiting for you to open it.”

He couldn’t be the caretaker, not alone, not if he still seized up like this. It was ridiculous. When he first encountered dragons, he didn’t feel scared, but his mind was mesmerized by the dragon, and he couldn’t think. Kendra cleared up his head, he cleared up her fear, and together they were a single dragon tamer. Since then, even without Kendra, he got to the point where he could keep his thoughts clear, and he wasn’t scared, but it was like his body wasn’t getting the memo.

“You have to get past this Seth,” Marat said, shaking his head.

He couldn’t be caretaker, not without his sister. He was the only caretaker; he couldn’t leave to find his sister.

Seth was the only caretaker.

Celebrant didn’t have a veto anymore. He could give the job to someone else, and go after his sister. Marat started to move away, but he needed to know now. He was one answer away from being able to go after Kendra.  

Inside his chest, he felt surge of control spread over his muscles “Marat, wait!” Seth said, and something settled over him, something that made him stand a little taller. Marat turned back, and drew his head closer, curiously. Seth grinned, “I’m the last Caretaker. Celebrant was stripped of his title. The treaty is back to its foundations. Can I turn being caretaker back over to you, and go after Kendra?”

“Well done Seth,” Marat said, then took a moment to think over Seth’s plan. “I do believe that is possible. The provisions of Celebrant’s veto were very specific to the amendment making him co-caretaker. Agad will be arriving soon, we will ask for his advice, but I see nothing wrong with that plan at present.”

Marat shapeshifted back into a human, alighting on the rampart beside him, “A shame that your loyalties take you elsewhere the moment you become a full dragon tamer,” Marat said casually.

“I did it?” Seth asked, “I did!”

“Yes, it seems your sister being in danger was enough for you to push past the final effects, just as the threat of Celebrant to your family was enough for Kendra.”

“Marat,” Seth said, “I know things are a mess, would you be able to keep things under control on your own?”

“Let’s see,” Marat said, holding up a hand, counting off his fingers, “You have already dealt with the Dragon Feast. There will not be another festival night for a quarter year. We have the staff and the amulet. The curse on Stormguard is lifted, and more Fair Folk generally heralds greater opportunities for peace. Celebrant will not be happy, nor will he give up his machinations. However, I do believe I would be able to manage.”

“You can call me back, in case you need any of my specific…expertise,” Seth grinned, and Marat smiled wryly. They both remembered how reluctant literally everyone was to give him the job. With Kendra missing, the risks were really nailed home, but no one could doubt their skill at keeping preserves functioning. First Fablehaven was the only one of the five secret preserves to hold itself together, and now Wrymroost, against the King of Dragons himself, was functioning better than ever.

“I believe I will try to reserve your assistance for true emergencies,” Marat said drily.

“Let’s keep our plan quiet,” Seth said, quietly, “At least until Agad tells us if we can do it and how. I know the staff was safe when we got here, but things have changed pretty quickly.”

Marat nodded, and they entered the interior of the keep. They approached their…War Room? To be honest, he hasn’t spent nearly enough time at his Castle to learn all the stuffy old names for everything. The room with lots of maps and chests. Since he was going to give up caretaking this place, this might be the last chance to name them himself.

Marat opened the door for him, and Seth walked in, shoulders squared.

“All right, I see everyone has gathered in the War Room. What have we got?”

Grandpa and Hendrick held back sniggers, Grandma rolled her eyes, Newel gave him a thumbs up. Grandma held out the letter.

Seth took it, cracked open the old-timey wax seal, and pulled out two pieces of paper. The first one had letters that were so old-timey they were basically illegible. He wasn’t even sure it was English. The second letter was written by Tanu.

Dear Sorenson’s,

We are safe. We have rested and celebrated the restoration of Stormguard Castle, and updated them as much as we could on the current status of the rest of the world. Knox was unfortunately blunt, and they will be holding with their neutrality. They are giving us a ride to Blackwell keep by flying carriage, don’t panic when we arrive. We look forward to understanding what occurred after you were separated from Lomo.

Regards,

Tanu.

Seth let out a sigh of relief. He hadn’t thought his friends were in danger based on Lockland and the Fair Folk’s general determination to stay as far away as possible from anything remotely interesting, but it was good to hear all the same.

“It’s fine. Stormguard is sending a carriage with Tanu and Knox. They already took him out of the quiet box it seems, and the first thing he did was stick his foot in his mouth,” Seth looked around him, “Any possible allies in Quiet Boxes here?”

“Oh, don’t you act like you didn’t mouth off to the Fair Folk about their neutrality the first chance you got,” Grandma said, as Seth handed her the letters. “And we are not sticking Knox in another quiet box. It’s not healthy for a growing child.”

Seth gave a put-upon sigh, “All right, fine. We’ll find somewhere to put him. Isn’t it a little dangerous to go flying around right now?”

Marat shook his head, “One of the benefits of the neutrality you so casually mock is that the carriage of Stormguard has full immunity for diplomatic missions under the treaty. They have as many, if not more, protection on their journey than we do at the castle.”

“Safe transport is a boon that should not be taken lightly,” Grandma Sorensen said, “Knox has already likely ruffled feathers, but they owe Seth and Kendra much for freeing them. Debts hold with Fair Folk like they do everyone else in this world, though their aid is limited in scope. Everyone on their best behavior. The official letter says much of the same”

Seth made a face, but didn’t argue because she was probably right.

An hour later everyone was gathered in the courtyard as the Carriage landed lightly in front of them. It didn’t even kick up dust. Never leaving a mark, just like the people that owned it.

Knox, Tanu, and Lockland exited the carriage.

“Glad to see you guys,” Seth said, giving Tanu a hug and punching Knox on the shoulder.

“I’m afraid we don’t come with good news. While everything is fine at Stormguard, we stopped off at Terrebelle to retrieve Tess and Doren,” Tanu said, “They weren’t there and no one knows where they went. Lord Dagorel’s daughter was missing as well.”

Well, that was rude of them. Who did they think they were? Wandering around a dangerous preserve like Wyrmroost the day after a festival night and in the middle of a dragon war? Now he was going to have to track them down himself and make sure no one gets eaten. How irresponsible — Oh no, Seth was turning into Grandpa.

“They have the cloak of innocence,” Knox assured them, “So they’re safer than us. But we should still find them.”

Seth rubbed his forehead, “Great. Yeah, we’ll get Henrick on it, see if we can track them down. And whatever else we can do. I’m guessing you guys want Eve back at Terrebelle too?”

“Lord Dagorel would appreciate your consideration,” Lockland said with a bow. Well that was a little much, Seth wasn’t going to be the one giving the order to send Eve anywhere. She could do what she wanted, as far as he was concerned, it was Tess that didn’t know anything about this world he didn’t want wandering around. Probably better not to mention that.

Lockland came up from his bow.

“Hey, none of that.” Seth said, giving a tired smile, Lockland was one of the better Fair Folk after all, “Thanks for helping back there. We literally could not have done it without you.”

Lockland shook his head, “Your sister is the heroine, towards the end the only help I could give was that of one mindless puppet not trying to capture her,” he looked around, “Where is she? I’d like to know that she’s alright for myself if that’s okay.”

Seth’s throat grew thick, but no tears came. He’d cried himself out that morning before Grandma passed him one of Tanu’s calming potions, finally allowing him to get some sleep.

“Kendra…lost her memory,” Seth said, looking at the ground, not at the horrified faces in front of him.

“The key of forgetting,” Lockland said. It must have been mentioned in one of the riddles that he heard. “Seth, I’m so sorry —”

“What the heck Seth Breath?” Knox said, “You’re supposed to protect your sister!”

“I have the authority to send you to the dungeons,” Seth threatened back, “I know what I was supposed to do, but she stole the key from me and wouldn’t listen.”

“Can I still see her?” Lockland asked, “I don’t have to talk to her, just make sure that she’s okay. I feel terrible about not being able to do more before you guys came.”

“Sorry,” Seth said tightly, more than ready to shift the blame to the Fair Folk, but Grandma’s warning made him pull back, “But that privilege is reserved for allies and friends, not neutral diplomats. I only told you about her memory because Celebrant already knows what happened and you helped us. You aren’t getting any more information from me until I know you won’t give it up to the dragons for a perfectly neutral reason.”

Lockland flinched back. He had spent the past several hundred years as a human in a competition, it had probably been a while since he’d dealt with the drawbacks of neutrality. If he had ever dealt with it before. After meeting the royal children of Stormguard, Seth wouldn’t be surprised if their parents kept them under lock and key and only taught them untested morality anyway.

“Seth,” Grandma Ruth hissed. She turned to Lockland, “I would like to apologize for the Caretaker’s current temperament. The loss of his sister’s memory, due in part the schemes of Celebrant and Ronodin, is still a fresh blow. Thank you for returning our friends to us.”

Subdued, Lockland nodded, “I also came to inquire about what happened to my brother Tregain. As you are mourning the loss of your sister’s memories, surely you won’t begrudge me knowing the fate of my brother. Enemies though we were, he is family.”

Seth felt a pang then. He wasn’t being fair. It wasn’t like Lockland hadn’t suffered under the curse. And with a memory-less Kendra captured by Ronodin, Seth might be fighting his sibling in the future. Oh God, he might have to fight Kendra.

He shoved those thoughts aside, he needed to get through this, “Tregain died, so did Obregon. There was a final trap for the Wizenstone, anyone who touched it…turned to ash. The only thing I could do was send the stone away with the Rod of Banishment. It was…it was never winnable in the first place.”

Lockland was still and silent, then he nodded. “We were playing a dangerous game with the greatest prize. That those two were the only deaths is…nicer, than what other competitions for magical items are like. The business of the Fair Folk is concluded. Farewell, Caretaker Seth Sorenson.”

Lockland stepped back into the carriage, but before closing the door, turned back to Seth, “I know what we all have to do in war, but believe me when I say I can never thank you and your sister enough for ending the curse. I hope you succeed, and I hope for your safety. If Kendra is willing to give up her place in the war, now that she has no memory of what she is fighting for or how to fight, she will be welcome at Stormguard to wait in neutrality as others take her place in your battle.”

Seth didn’t know what to say. No witty comebacks, no apologies, nothing came to mind.

“Thank you for this extension, we will consider it and offer it to her when we see her next,” Grandpa Sorenson said with a bow, “Please return with the knowledge that Blackwell Keep rejoices in the freedom of you and your people.”

Lockland nodded, acknowledging Grandpa’s words, and closed the door. The carriage took off.

Grandma put a hand to her head. “Seth, I am terrified to know what you said when you and Kendra visited Terrebelle.”

“It wasn’t so bad,” Calvin’s voice piped up from Tanu’s pocket, “Lord Dalgorel’s children were quite accommodating and understanding. Kendra did most of the talking.” Tanu lifted the nipsie out of his pocket and handed Calvin to Seth.

“Calvin, we left you with Patton!” Seth said.

“As soon as dawn hit, I went to test the barriers and found them undone,” Calvin said, “Patton will be making his way back with the flying mounts soon.”

“Forgive me,” Tanu said slowly, “But if Kendra truly has lost her memory, letting her claim sanctuary with the Fair Folk sounds like a good temporary measure. Her abilities are extraordinary, and easy to be misused and misguided.”

“Come inside,” Grandma said, “We have to catch each other up.”

“Hey, I’m sorry for snapping at you about Kendra,” Knox said, walking beside Seth, “I know both of you, and Kendra’s stubborn as a rock. And its not like I did any better protecting Tess from danger.”

“I would say sorry for threatening to put you in the dungeon,” Seth replied, “But I’m not. You’re making me realize just how much Grandma and Grandpa were trying to protect me when I first learned about this stuff, it sucks.”

“I bet Kendra was always trying to protect you too,” Knox said, “How long do you think it will be before she’s back at that? At least she doesn’t have the grounds to nag you when she doesn’t know what’s going on.”

“Shut up,” Seth said, slamming the keep door shut. “I don’t know. I don’t know if she’ll ever talk to us again. I don’t know if the next time she sees me, she’ll try to kill me. Ronodin kidnapped her, and she is somewhere, right now, being convinced that she’s Ronodin’s girlfriend and would do absolutely anything for him.”

“Did I hear right?” Tanu asked, turning back. Grandma sighed.

“Yes, and I think we could all use some tea right about now.”

Seth glared at his teacup while his grandparents caught everyone up. Newel had gotten the task of brewing, snagged on their way back to the War Room, and he was sure Newel slipped a little bit extra in for the adults. Seth knew, because they had caught eyes as he was about to slip something from an unidentified bottle into Knox’s tea, and Seth shook his head.

“Agad will be here in the morning, to follow up on what leads he can,” Grandpa finished.

“I’m telling you, it was Ronodin,” Seth said, “The sleezy jerk was all over Kendra, trying to make her blush and calling her ‘Love’. It’s going to be Gavin all over again.”

“Then perhaps you can take some faith,” Tanu said gently, “Kendra’s heart is good, and her abilities meant to help and heal. Our enemies will have a long ways to go to convince her to do harm. And do not forget who else Ronodin is holding captive.”

Seth blinked, then smiled, “Bracken. If anyone can convince her that she’s better than that jerk, its him.” Seth turned to Knox, remembering that Knox didn’t know who Bracken was, and saw his cousin staring into his cooled cup of tea. Seth nudged him with his shoulder, “Hey, no spacing out in the War Room. Bracken is Kendra’s unicorn boyfriend. They’ve done the prison spree thing before. It only took them five-ish hours, I think. It will probably take a little longer with Kendra’s memory gone, and we’ll have to give them a hand, but that’s good news. As good as it gets anyway.”

“Yeah, uh, I’m a little off, I think I’m going to get some air,” Knox said, putting down his teacup. He left the room, heading inward instead of towards the outside.

“Did something happen at Stormguard after they let him out?” he asked Tanu, frowning after his cousin.

Tanu shook his head, paused then said, “A pretty girl was invited to dine with him. Like most young folk, he couldn’t resist the urge to brag about what appeared to be an unconditional win. Between understanding that it was not the win he thought it was, and likely feeling remaining guilt over the stolen barrel. I believe, given time, he will work through his problems.”

“He likely also thinks that you blame him,” Grandpa Sorensen said, “Please try to keep your temper. You are in charge here, and your attitudes and temperaments affect everyone. The situation with Kendra is bleak, and you must hold together.”

“In better news,” Marat said, “Seth has managed to conquer the last hold of Dragon fear. I found him as a dragon, and he spoke to me clearly.”

Grandma brightened, “Oh, that’s wonderful Seth.”

“It feels kind of an empty victory,” Seth admitted.

Grandpa smiled, “One more dragon tamer in the world is a victory all the same.”

Seth looked around, “When was Henrick supposed to be back?” Maybe the Alcetaur would have something for him to do to whittle the hours until Agad showed up. There wasn’t anything they could do from their end except guard the barrel.

“He’ll be back in the morning,” Grandma said. “I know it’s frustrating, but the wait is short.”

“What if we tried to establish communication through the barrel?” Seth asked, the idea popping into his head.

Everyone blinked at him. “It’s a shared space, right? Coulter showed us how it worked with coins and tin cans,” Seth said, “It doesn’t just move people. If we put in a letter, asking for Ronodin to tell us what he wants in exchange for Kendra, maybe we can work out a trade.”

“Classic,” Newel said, “All the crime shows agree, the first thing you do with a kidnapper is keep them talking. Then you do a little give, a little take, until you’re negotiating for the right stuff. Once they trust you, Bam! Hit them where it hurts.”

Grandma and Grandpa shared a look, “It wouldn’t hurt.” Grandma said. “It will let us track activity with the barrel, if nothing else.”

“I’d feel better waiting until we have Agad’s approval,” Grandpa replied, “But I can’t see any harm, and the longer Kendra is in their grasp, the worse it will be. Could you write the letter?”

Grandma nodded, standing up. “Just to explain that we are open to negotiating for the return of Kendra. Hopefully their reply will contain clues as to where they are, even if they ask for something we can’t give.”

“I have a feeling we will not get peace enough to brew for a while yet,” Tanu said, returning his teacup to the tray, “And my ingredients are most potent fresh. We slept a while before the celebration at Stormguard, I will be brewing in my room, if you need me.”

They both left. “That was a smart idea, Seth,” Grandpa Sorenson said. Seth slumped, “Yeah, but there still isn’t anything I can do.”

“I have the feeling you’ll have the chance to do plenty,” Grandpa said, “Tess and Doren are still at Terrebelle. Agad is coming. If you like, we can do something active. How about a sword-fighting lesson? See if these old bones remember anything.”

He let Grandpa get him into a sword fighting lesson. He didn’t use Tregain’s sword, as the goal was to be seen and fight, and instead practiced as many moves as he could remember Warren and Vanessa teaching him. Grandpa showed him a few as well, from back when he learned.

Grandpa was much more of the “best way to win was never be hit, and you don’t get hit if you’re never there” camp. Instead of Warren and Vanessa’s focus on attacking, counter attacking, and movement economy with broad swords, Grandpa had him dodging in circles, keeping out of striking range by positioning himself on the outer side of the blade.

When Seth complained about not having a good position to attack, Grandpa proceeded to disarm him seven times in a row, attacking from that exact angle when Seth was too slow to move. It was safe to say that ‘the best way to win is to not be there’ was beaten into his arms by dinner.

Knox still hadn’t come back, so Seth took a plate of food and started asking around to find his cousin. Grandpa and Tanu had both suggested giving Knox space, but they didn’t know him. Grandpa wasn’t related to Knox, and Knox was the kind of person that needed someone to show off to in order to be a person at all.

Eventually a dwarf pointed him towards the room at the very top of the central structure. It wasn’t really a room, since it had no walls, just a couple of pillars holding up the roof. A sort of small pavilion.

“I see you’ve found the High Judgement Court,” Seth said, rounding the top of the stairs.

“That what this place is called? It was empty, I figured I wouldn’t bother anyone here, but I suppose it’s a fitting place for me,” Knox said.

“You missed dinner, I brought you some food,” Seth said.

Knox waved it away. “I ate my fill at Stormguard.”

Seth set down the plate of food by him anyway, “You know, we’re taking turns being an absolute wreck about Kendra. I had first go before sunrise, Grandma and Grandpa went while I was sleeping. Thought I should warn you that your turn is almost up.”

“I can’t believe you’re still cracking jokes while Kendra’s kidnapped,” Knox said, clenching his fists. “And with the person whose fault it is.”

“Ronodin’s not here,” Seth said, “He’d be getting a sword to the gut if he was.”

“It’s my fault Kendra was kidnapped!” Knox yelled. “Everyone knows it, they’re all angry and just trying to spare my feelings. It was making me sick. That’s why I am up here. Now leave.”

“Knox, you screwed up,” Seth said, “Everyone does it. No one blames you. We’ve fought tricky enemies before, and we’ve all figured out how to put the blame where it belongs, on the bad guys. You’re the only one who hasn’t yet.”

Knox snorted, “Maybe everyone makes mistakes, but not everyone gets people kidnapped on their first go.”

And it clicked for Seth, in a weird moment of vague empathy. Looking at Knox, he remembered a rushed salt circle, clinging to Kendra, trembling as ghastly noises raged through the house.

Seth regretted not coming sooner.

“No, you’re right, some of us wait until our second mistake to get our family members kidnapped and threaten the whole world,” Seth said. Knox jerked to look at him, but if they were going to have a feeling-ish touchy heart-to-heart, Seth was going to be looking over the preserve.

“You can’t mean —”

“We haven’t had any time between dragon feasts, cursed tournaments, and everything else,” Seth started, “But you’re a couple of important hours late to the magic party. Back when we went to Grandma and Grandpa Larsen’s funeral, all our parents went on a cruise, remember?” Knox nodded. “Kendra and I were sent to stay at Fablehaven for two weeks.”

“That’s when you found out about this stuff? You’ve only known three years?” Knox asked, looking a little perplexed, “I thought you guys had been doing this way longer. How’d you get to be in charge?”

“Longer story,” Seth said ruefully, “We knew things were a little odd, back then. Grandpa kept telling me to stay out of the woods for more and more dangerous reasons, while Kendra played riddle games in the attic of the main house. Grandpa had set up clues for us, to see if we were curious enough to be open to the secrets. Kendra figured out about the milk, she used me as her guinea pig.

“My first mistake? I wanted a pet fairy. A fairy trader had come to visit, and I thought I could catch one too. He was a real adventurer, you know? But I didn’t know the rules, like you didn’t know not to trust the dungeon goblins. I caught a fairy, and kept it in my drawer overnight. Doing that turns the fairy into an imp. Dark, scaly, multiple fangs and eyes, angry. A butterfly into a spider. She had pleaded and begged me from inside the jar not to keep her trapped, but I knew so much better than her, I was going to release her in the morning.”

“Woah,” Knox said, “Tess would hate you forever for that. Could you undo it? With your shadow stuff?”

Seth smiled ruefully, “Me? No, no one can undo that. And the shadow stuff came later. So the fairies got their revenge. You made it to Terrebelle because Tess is like, the most innocent person ever, right? That day was when I lost my innocence protection under most treaties. The fairies came and attacked me. The next part’s a little fuzzy, Kendra said I was some kind of malformed, fleshy walrus. It hurt, my senses were all mixed up, I was breathing through my back, and Grandpa and Kendra fixed me by making a deal with a witch. So yeah, my first mistake didn’t get anyone kidnapped, but it wasn’t a small deal either.”

Knox hesitated, and Seth waited.

“And… and your second mistake?”

“The third floor of the main house is meant for children, and when only children are in it, they have extra protection. You saw how everything went crazy last night?” Seth checked, and Knox nodded, “That’s what happens on the summer solstice at every preserve. Part of the treaty says they can party without boundaries on solstices and equinoxes. The boundaries of the actual buildings at Fablehaven stay secure, but the creatures can party around the yard and all the way up to the window.”

Knox shuddered, “Dude, you’re making this sound like a horror story.”

Seth gave a weak smile. The sun was finally starting to touch the horizon, on the longest day of the year. “Dude, because it was. Over and over they told me not to go near the windows. Don’t look. Phantoms can take any shape, and wraiths were waiting to suck the life out of you. But that just sounded so cool. A little peek wouldn’t hurt anyone. Looking never hurt anyone.

“I peeked. Kendra scolded me the whole time. Fairies were lighting up jack o’lanterns outside the window, keeping the worst of the monsters away so I didn’t see anything good. They saw me though, and the fairies couldn’t ditch me fast enough. They hadn’t forgiven me for turning their sister into an imp. They flew away, Kendra dragged me back. Creatures got right up to the window and started playing out horrible things. It was the wolves eating toddlers that got me, and I opened the window, worried for the kid. That let them in the house. We managed to get the creatures out of the attic, and nothing could get back in with the extra protections. The ones I let in though, they let in all their friends to the rest of the house.”

“No,” Knox said. Seth looked over and saw the appropriate look of horror.

“Yep, I clung to Kendra like a baby the whole night. When it was over in the morning, Dale was a statue, Lena and Grandpa were abducted, Hugo gone. See, it took my second mistake to really mess things up. You were able to do a lot of good before your big screw up. You helped with the scepter, which, no joke, saved Wrymroost. And we wouldn’t have found Lockland, who gave us the glove to go forward, if we didn’t put you in the quiet box.”

“They couldn’t attack me because of the whole innocence thing, right? How did you guys get out of it? How did you fix your mistake back then?”

The memories replayed in his mind.

“Err, I have the feeling you’re not going to believe me if I told you,” Seth said with a small grin.

“Really dude?” Knox protested, “I was turned into gold last night, flew back here in a flying carriage, your sister was kidnapped by a wooden puppet after loosing her memory, and waiting out there are a bunch of dragons ready to kill us. I think I can take whatever you did at Fablehaven to rescue your grandparents.”

Seth stood up, “I’ve pulled you out of your slump. No one blames you, because mistakes happen, and what’s important is working to fix them. Come on, it’s time to turn in.”

“I’m not leaving until I get the rest of the story,” Knox said, “You can’t leave me hanging like that.”

“Fine. Well, first off, Grandma Sorenson hadn’t been captured because she had been turned into a chicken…”

[danideservedbetter]

Alright so, here’s how things are gonna work.

First off, welcome to this side blog. Since it won’t be jolly fun fandom content and will be a little more personal I decided to separate my health and writing journey from my fandom stuff, although all my fandom content will still be linked on my main blog here.

(I write Izuocha/bnha content which isn’t super popular so if you’re not here for that then yeah, I don’t blame you. But if you are I have a link to our discord and community content pinned so def check it out if you’re interested.)

Secondly, you guys will hear details about stuff relating to my health like what kinds of things affect my disorder based on the tests some doctors are ordering, how I’m trying to improve my diet and activity, and routines and goals I’m attempting for myself. I am underweight, and that’s something I’m going to be talking a bit about, so if that’s triggering following this blog might not be the best thing for you. Details under the cut.

So, what kind of disorder do I have and why did I decide to make a health journey blog? My disorder is called idiopathic hypersomnia. Basically what that means is that when my disorder is acting up (based on factors like stress especially or my generalized anxiety rearing its ugly head) I have the capacity to sleep. And sleep and sleep and sleep and sleep. My longest recorded uninterrupted “sleep-attack” was 26 hours long and ever since I caught Covid in January, my body had been slowly growing weaker to the point I was starting to develop atrophy. I’ve had this ten years and my neurologist suspects inactive cells from mononucleosis I caught at 14 was the cause, because other IH patients have linked their sleeping problems to a case of mono or have had it at some point in their lives.

This disease stole many years and many things I’ve looked forward to from me. I lost friends and experiences and failed so many college classes I had to drop out.

I’ve decided I’m taking them back.

It’s not going to be easy. Just as it took ten years to convince myself that my tiredness was something I chose to give into, it took several extra years and many fights with my family to convince them that I had a real actual neurological disorder and that I need help sometimes. My parents and grandmother finally understand that I have to finish college and find a very special boss willing to work around my erratic progress on projects, but the outsiders they married are not as convinced. My grandmother’s husband kicked me out of their house because he wants to be the center of attention and doesn’t like that some days I’m so weak that I needed my grandmother’s help, and my father’s wife thinks I’m a lazy and ungrateful leech who “gets anxiety just being around” me. Both told my father I’ll never be happy so why even bother with me, but my dad is actually striving to understand his own recently-diagnosed PTSD so while we still butt heads he’s understanding that I have to take things day by day because every tiny circumstance affects my disorder.

Now, why did I decide to air all this out? Well, being open about my disorder and how it affects me has helped at least two people that I know of find out that the tiredness they experience isn’t the typical “American work force exhaustion” they were trained to believe is normal. So if I can help even one more, I’ll gladly talk about what this entails and how I deal with it day to day. Another reason is that I’m also one of those big advocates who believes talking candidly about mental health destigmatizes it and sharing ideas can help us grow as people and maybe make it a little easier to deal with.

So now that you know a little bit about me and my disorder, here are my big goals for the next three months provided my university takes pity on me and actually lets me go back.

First up: create routines to train my body to get used to living a full day fully awake. This includes waking up at the same time and going to sleep at the same time. It means getting dressed and going out and doing things, even little things— which I’ll get to in a sec.

Second: I write. I have a novel in limbo and I write fanfics. Writing is a big part of who I am and I’ve written one thing this year, which for a whole six-month stretch is upsetting and disappointing. Today is my reset. In the next 569 days I want to to finish the six stories I have in limbo (except the larger one) and finally reach my goal of posting 200k words in a single year. I wont be hard on myself if I can’t accomplish this because honestly finishing anything in the chaos of my life is going to be a miracle but. There ya go.

Third: go back to freakin college. I don’t care what it takes. Sit down with every official, every lawyer, and every professor it takes to get me back enrolled in classes in the fall.

Fourth: I have several smaller things I have to do, short term goals, stuff like that. I’m gonna create a to do list each day of small tasks I want to get done and while some of these things will be part of my daily routine I am throwing in like one or two things a day that just need to be done. My writing goal will change daily and I’ll keep y’all updated on that with every post I make.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. Dani! That’s so much!! Well, a few months ago I remembered hey!! I basically have a computer in my hand, why make it hard on myself. So I downloaded certain apps to help me out. This isn’t me saying “hey go subscribe to these apps because I said so” it’s just that through a lot of trial and error I’ve come to find that these certain apps work for me and I’ve yet to come across one that has the functionality of everything I need.

Tiimo — so this is an app I found developed by people with autism for people with autism to help them develop good habits and routines. It has preset daily schedules (things like morning routines or nightly routines or work routines) and an internal alarm to let you know when to move on to the next task. I myself have extremely low-level aspergers (to the point where my doctor won’t give me an official diagnosis because I didn’t want people think that *it’s* the reason I have issues with school), so moving from task to task can be difficult sometimes and I also deal with getting distracted. This widget also appears on my home screen so I know what I have to do at a glance. You can program in weekly and daily tasks to fully customize your schedule, which is fantastic for someone like me who wants to for example rotate chores. This is hopefully going to help me get my body in the habit of adjusting to routines and transitioning from one task to another, as well as getting important things done responsibly.

Promptly Journals — I’ve been told for a while that journaling is helpful mentally to kind of recenter yourself, so a bit ago I downloaded several journal apps to add to my morning routine. Now some will prefer more creatively free journals, but I prefer this one that gives me small prompts I can do in a short amount of time that just allows me to get my thoughts down. I can even add pictures at the bottom that go with the theme! I’m scared I’ll run out of prompts eventually lol but until then this app works very well for my needs.

Stretchingexercise — Now idk if it’s from lack of sleep from my disorder, the position I sleep in when I do sleep, all the physical labor I’ve had to do in the past couple weeks, my medicine, or w h a t but I suffer from body aches like no one would believe. I know stretching is supposed to help with that, so I downloaded this app to help me do non-demanding physical activity that wakes me up in the mornings and helps relieve pain so I don’t keep having to take pain relievers. This one has different plans for things like muscle tension, back pain, warm ups— and it also gives you rudimentary weight updates (I’m underweight lololol so we’re looking to fix that) or plan updates. It’s worked really well for me so far and gives you animations and descriptions of the workouts (some taken from yoga) as well as timed breaks and a narrated guide. It’s been pretty helpful in temporary relief and if nothing else gets my blood flowing in the mornings.

Widgetsmith Step counter — in addition to the stretching thing one thing my doctor and I discussed that helps with the sedentary lifestyle is simply walking. I’ve needed so bad to relieve my stamina and reverse the atrophy, and walks have been stellar for that. Now I live in the New Orleans area so humidity and heat force me to go at the crack of Dawn, but honestly my weenie dachshund Charlie really enjoys our time out so he goes with me! The CDC recommends 10,000 steps a day which seems like a lot and it is if you don’t get out much. But this gives me an excuse to get dressed and do the hygienic thing and help Charlie be healthy too, as well as give me time for brainstorming because we walk in a truly beautiful area. I’m sure everyone installed widgetsmith with the last iOS update (Apple users anyway) and while at first the step counter was just interesting I’ve since come to rely on it! We do our 5000 in the morning, which of course is half, and I find that other things I do throughout the day typically drive the counter higher. Anything leftover can easily be accomplished by an evening walk in our neighborhood. Now the caveat is that I have to remote have my phone in my pocket because I don’t own a watch or anything fancy lol, but honestly I need to keep it on me anyway so that serves as a good reminder.

Todoist — this one is my FAVORITE. Ever since I’ve decided that I have trouble keeping track of things I need to do and small stuff I need to keep in mind and appointments, etc, I decided to find a list app. This is the one I found that absolutely helps me for everything from my list of room supplies I need to buy, to my reading list, to general tasks I have coming up I need to complete. And its widget functionality keeps it right on my Home Screen! More organized individuals can just use tiimo, but I’m definitely not one of those individuals so this app is sorely needed and appreciated.

And of course, I know building habits the first few weeks is HARD. So for days my body doesn’t respond to my alarms, I have a checklist of the key things I have to do to keep my life as functional as possible.

So that’s that on that. I’m going to try to keep writing updates and my daily goals in a post in the morning, and reblog what I accomplished in the evening. It’s gonna be tough. But I’m thinking if I can start small I’ll be able to build my stamina enough to return to college and be successful when I do. I hope that anyone watching this journey draws some kind of meaning or inspiration from it. And you guys can even follow along if y’all want! Especially for writers or people trying to get healthier. I can’t promise what works for me will work for you (and honestly I expect things to change especially if I get accepted into college again) but hey, I figure it’s worth a shot.

I hope you guys enjoy watching this journey, if nothing else I hope it’s entertaining. And maybe it’ll be successful. I do know that I’m just gonna try for it, and hope it works out.

First daily update to follow

Xoxo

Dani

[tloujm]

Part XII: Jackson Manor

Author’s Notes: Here’s my attempt at horror that I promised! Its roughly a week until Halloween, so just in time I guess! MY GOD, DOES TIME FLY. It was just the beginning of October a minute ago, wasn’t it? It’s a long one, just under 9k words, so grab a snack. It features some continuity on the main plot, but really its a stand alone chapter. Because there are multiple other characters mentioned, there is less focus on you and Joel as a couple, but there’s definitely some fluff and angst (grumpy Joel) hidden in there. I know I’m no James Wan or Stephen King, but bear with me. I only did it as a seasonal thing. The next chapter will go back to focusing on you and Joel’s relationship. 

Genre: Cheesy Horror

Summary: Maria puts together a specially curated group for the next patrol outing that includes you and Joel. The group of five are sent on a mysterious treasure hunt of sorts. The “treasure” is inside of a creepy, abandoned house that plays tricks on the group, fueling into the already existing tensions. 

Ship: Joel x Reader

Joel watched on with tired eyes as you sat with the newcomer at the daycare. You got up early so you could talk to her. So far, the girl remained silent, but her body language was responsive. Joel just stood there, unsure of when a good time to interrupt and steal you away would be. Luckily, he didn’t have to wait too long as you finally caught his gaze. After a moment, you excused yourself and walked over to him standing in the doorway. 

“Maria has us scheduled to patrol today.” He said.

“Us? Together? Well, that’s a treat. You usually do the tougher routes. Am I going on one of those with you, or are you doing an easy one with me?”

He shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not quite sure. Maria didn’t say much after she told me to come fetch you.”

“Maybe they think I’m ready for something more challenging.”

“I think so, but what’s strange is that she’s got us goin’ out with a couple other people who I don’t think are.” Joel said, scratching his beard.

“Who’s all going?” You asked.

“Tim, Rhonda and uh, Jesse.” He replied. He was less than enthused with the last name that exited his mouth. While he was civil with Jesse, he still couldn’t help but feel like he had a thing for you, whether you acknowledged it or not.

“Jesse’s a veteran, but Tim?” You made a face. “And Rhonda?” You made a slightly more exaggerated face. “Did Maria say why she chose all of us to go together?”

“Didn’t get the chance to ask. We’re meant to meet her at the stables. That’s where she’s debriefing us.”

*****

“Thank you all for meeting me for this patrol on such short notice. I know this is everyone’s day off.” Maria began. You and the others were seated on bales of hay as she paced in front of the stable doors. “I hand picked each of you to work together and complete the task at hand. I drew up copies of a special map that came into my possession a little while ago.” She handed them out. “Outside the city of Jackson, there is a little village...smaller than that really, that is not located on any published map. I want you guys to check it out and report back on it. Note everything. More specifically, I want this team to sweep through a large house over that way. You’ll know it when you see it. According to the original map, ‘the exterior is dark, almost black, three stories high and overshadowed by a massive pine tree’. I was tipped off that the house was used as a supply cache for the Jackson Frontier Faction, a recently extinct group of survivors. Bring back anything you can. Leave what you can’t and we’ll come back for it. Update the map if need be during your journey. Any questions?”

“How long do you think this mission will take?” Jesse asked.

“I don’t want you to spend too much time out there, but I estimate no more than three days. That’s including the time to get there and back on the horses. If you are not back by then, I will send a search and rescue team.” Maria responded confidently.

“No offense, but why did you pick us? We’ve never worked together as a group before.” Joel spoke up.

“True, I do not have the advantage of seeing your group dynamic, but there is method behind my way of thinking. Each of you have a specific skill set that I believe would simultaneously compliment each other as well as make the group superior to our previous patrols. Joel, you are an excellent shot and an exceptional tracker. Jesse, as well as your combat skills, you have a great sense of direction, even in the most foreign of environments, and you think outside the box. (Y/N), I know you have trained under both Joel and Tommy and I have seen your melee combat in person. I trust that you are ready for a more difficult route such as this. I also appreciate your level headedness. Keeping calm during dangerous situations can be the difference between life and death. Now as for Tim and Rhonda. I know the two of you have never been on patrol before, so I especially thank you for agreeing to this. I wish I could have introduced you to this job with a more novice route. Tim is our medic in training and has been Dr. Carson’s right hand and apprentice for over a year now. He will be there to aid in any medical relief.” She turns her attention to Tim. “If you ever need any assistance, (Y/N) is trained in first aid.” He looks at you for a long moment. You return the gaze, realizing that you’d never formally met him before. “Rhonda, you are great at your job taking inventory at the pantry. Now, you are the group’s official scribe and your job is to take inventory of the things collected. I’ve also seen how good you draw. I would like you to note the environment and work with Jesse in drawing up a new map. Also, I want you to record things of interest through writing and drawing.” Maria gives her a journal. “I would have had you all wait until the first sign of spring, but we are in desperate need of certain supplies. To be honest, this is an experiment, having all of you in a group together, but I still have high expectations. Please, do not disappoint me. We are all counting on you. Have a safe trip.” Maria left to tend to some business at the main gate.

“I think we should go over this map she gave us so we can all be on the same page.” Jesse suggested.

Joel grunted in agreement. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.” You began to push the bales to form a circle. The others followed suit and Jesse placed his map in the middle. Before you could take a seat, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Hi, I’m Tim.” He began to laugh nervously. “I’m sure you know that because of Maria, but I wanted to introduce myself. I didn’t want my asking you to apply pressure on somebody’s wound be the first time I talk to you.”

“Nice to meet you, Tim. (Y/N).” You shook his hand.

“I’ve heard a lot about you actually.” He responded.

“Oh?” You questioned genuinely.

“Yeah. Everyone knows about that bloater you and Joel ran into. And I was there helping Dr. Carson handle the bodies when the two of you found Sid and Adam. I just want to let you know, I think you’re very brave.”

A grin slowly grew on your face. “Thank you. I’m sure you are too, having to deal with blood and whatever gory things you see in the infirmary.”

He brushed past the compliment. “No more gory than what you guys see on patrol when you run into clickers and bloaters. The way the Cordycep fungus disfigures the body is something from a nightmare.” You nodded in agreement. Joel watched on from his seat as the two of you conversated. Eventually, he cleared his throat, causing you to turn and see that everyone else was seated and ready to go over the map. Tim’s cheeks turned red as he gave you a small smile before sitting.

“Nice of you to join us.” Joel whispered after you sat next to him. You nudged him in the shoulder and focused on Jesse’s words. 

After agreeing on a specific route in accordance to the weather conditions, the group picked up their respective horses and headed to the main gate. Maria and Bill from weaponry passed out a plethora of guns and knives. Joel and Jesse led the way out into the open with a couple clicks of their tongues. Everybody's horses galloped behind. It was cold and the snow was fairly high, but light enough to dredge through. 

Tim gently kicked his horse in the rear to gallop faster and catch up with you. “So how do you think Maria found out about this place?”

“I don’t know. Must have been one of the merchants who passed through a few weeks ago. If this place was discovered by someone inside Jackson, all of the patrol groups would have known by now. For Maria to be the only one who knew and had a map?”

“Do you think it actually exists?” He asked.

“The house?”

“The whole village.” He confirmed. “Maybe a merchant made up the location with the hopes of convincing someone of a known cache supply, like a treasure map, and had the intentions of charging a high price for it.”

“Maria is smart. She wouldn’t have let anyone get over on her, especially a merchant.” You defended her. 

“I’m sure you’re right. What do you think is going to be in there?” Tim asked casually. 

You shrugged. “Food. Hopefully not molded or eaten through by rats. Medical supplies. Seeds for the spring. Could be anything.”

“So long as it’s worth it.”

“She wouldn’t have sent us if it wasn’t.” Things fell silent between the two of you. You thought about riding off to the front next to Joel, but figured it was rude to just leave him.

“You and Joel,” He began before clearing his throat. ���You guys patrol a lot together?”

“We used to. Not so much anymore. Matter of fact, this is the first time we’ve been assigned to the same group in about a year.”

“Why is that?” Tim questioned.

“It was this whole thing.” You explained it away, not wanting to get into detail. He kept looking at you as if he was waiting for you to expand on the response. “We just got busy doing different things. I help out at the daycare too, you know.”

“Yeah? I know Wendy. She brings the kids by the infirmary from time to time for check ups. I traded for a pack of stickers a while back. I give them out to help put a smile on the kids’ faces when they come in. You know, a lot of them get nervous around doctors. My stickers don’t stand a chance against Joel's wooden toys though.”

“You know about those?”

“Of course. They come in holding the little horses or race cars kind of like a blankie. So...speaking of Joel, you two are together, right?”

“Yes, we are.”

He nodded. “He’s more than lucky, I’d say.” He waited until you turned and held his gaze before bidding you a goodbye. He slowed down his horse to ride alongside Rhonda. After a moment, you rode up next to Joel. You offered him a small smile, to which he returned the same.

“What did he want?” Joel nodded his head back in Tim’s direction.

“He was talking about Maria and this mission. He seems skeptical about the whole thing.”

“I don’t blame him, but I trust Maria. What else did he say?” Joel inquired.

“We were just getting to know each other. Small talk really.” You responded. You seldom saw Joel jealous, but you didn’t want him to get into a funky mood when there was a mysterious task at hand to focus on.

“The winds picking up, you feel that?” Jesse chimed. The two of you nodded.

“Yeah. I hope we find this place soon.” You shouted over the howling winds.

“According to the map, there's still a ways to go. Let’s just hope the weather doesn’t get any worse than this.”

Unfortunately for the group, not only did the winds pick up, but it got cloudier, blocking the sun’s warmth. It was hard to tell whether it was snowing or if the wind was just blowing around what had already fallen. Either way, the visibility got progressively lower by the second. At one point, you had become separated from Joel. The only people you could see were Tim and Rhonda. Joel was alone; nothing but white around him. He shouted your name over and over, but the frigid air entering his lungs began to hurt. His horse started to slow down as it became harder for her to gallop through it. Joel had been separated from the group for so long that he thought he was going crazy when he heard crunching in the snow from behind. He heard his name, but it wasn’t from your voice. Jesse came up from behind him. Despite the cold air whipping his face, he seemed happy to see Joel.

“Where are we?” Joel shouted.

“I don’t know, but we have to find somewhere soon. These horses won’t make it.” Jesse replied.

“Did you see (Y/N)?” Joel asked.

“I don’t know where anybody is.” Jesse pulled his hood back over his head. “The storm’s getting worse. Should we turn back?”

“No!” He shouted over the winds. “We came as a group, we leave as a group.”

“What if they already turned back? They’re probably assuming that we’re going to too.” Jesse pleaded.

“I’m not leaving without (Y/N).” Joel retorted. “We just need to find cover to wait out the storm and go on from there.” Jesse quietly followed his lead. There seemed to be no shelter in sight. If there were, they were masked by the white wall of snow directly in front of them. Joel was contemplating pulling out his map and risking it against the wind to estimate how far they rode from their last known point. Just as he began to pull it out,  a big dark building came into view.

“That must be it!” Jesse exclaimed.

“This way!” Joel noticed a large opening on the side of the house. As he galloped closer, he realized it was the opened door of an attached shed. The men ducked their heads as the horses walked them inside.

“Joel!” You exclaimed, voice laced in relief. He immediately looked your way and his heart skipped a beat. He was so worried. You approached his horse and waited for him to dismount before you attacked him with a tight hug. “You’re so cold.” All you wanted to do was strip him down and warm him up.

“Well, it is cold outside.” He responded sarcastically. You lightly slapped him on the arm before moving onto Jesse. You gave him a quick hug and helped tie down both of the horses.

“We’re glad you’re back.” Rhonda announced as she entered the shed. Tim followed close behind her.

“Good. The gang’s all here.” Jesse said.

“We wouldn’t have been if we hadn’t convinced (Y/N) to stay.” Tim began. “She insisted on going back out for you guys when we saw that you weren’t here. We told her that it was too dangerous, but she insisted. Practically had to hold her back.” He chuckled.

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t.” Joel said flatly to Tim.

Breaking up the tension, Jesse spoke up. “Did you guys clear the house?”

“Only the first floor. There’s two more floors, not including the basement.” Rhonda responded.

“Alright, Jesse, Rhonda and Tim. Y’all sweep the top floors for Clickers. Me and (Y/N) will board up them windows over there.” Joel points to the wind entering through the broken glass. Jesse nodded and pulled out his gun. The others did the same.

“Y’all know how to use those things?” Jesse questioned them. Joel didn’t see or hear their answer as he was focused on you.

“Are you okay?” You asked him.

“I’m fine, darlin’. What about you?” He asked with a soft tone.

“I’m good now.” You smiled. He tilted your chin up with his still gloved hand and kissed you. He let his forehead rest on yours for a moment before straightening back up.

“Alright, let’s find some wood or somethin’.” Joel’s body was weary, but he didn’t want to rest until the house was secured. You couldn’t find any tools to board the windows up with, so the two of you settled on barricading them with large furniture. It wasn’t until you were done, did you realize how big the house was. 

“This isn’t just some house, it’s like a manor.” You commented. “Almost reminds me of that hotel.” The last part you said almost in a whisper.

“This ain’t gonna be like the hotel.” Joel tried to comfort you.

“How do you know?” You furrowed your brows.

“Well, how about this, I’ll make you breakfast in bed the morning after we get back if there are zero bloaters in this house...I’m sorry, manor.”

“Well aren’t you naughty, implying that I’ll stay the night when we get back.” You teased, changing the mood of the conversation.

“I’m implying that you’ll consider moving back in.” He gazed at you, all playfulness left behind.

“If you still agree to make me that breakfast in bed, I will.” You replied coyly.

“It’s settled then.” Joel smirked. 

The two lovebirds had just begun to feel each other up when the rest of the group came back downstairs. They would have been caught if it weren’t for Jesse’s heavy footsteps. He gave the all clear but claimed he saw something of interest upstairs and wanted Joel’s opinion. Rhonda, wanting to take note of whatever it was, tagged along with them as they went up to the third floor. With just you and Tim left alone, the two of you agreed to scavenge the second floor.

“Oh wow, look at this!” You walked up to a bookcase in one of the bedrooms. It was tightly stocked with classical literature with matching book spines. 

“Lord of the Flies, The Secret Garden, For Whom The Bell Tolls, Tinker Taylor Soldier Spy…”  Tim followed your voice into the room and read some of the titles from over your shoulder. “Quite the eclectic collection.”

“Oh look! One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.” You pointed out.

“Ah, Nurse Ratched. She creeped me out. Almost didn’t finish it because of her.”

“You read it?” You asked.

“Don’t sound so surprised.” He chuckled. “I’m a well read man. It's funny, I’ve read more after the outbreak than before.”

Turning back to the bookshelf, you crouched down and ran your finger across the spines. “Look how dusty these are. They look like they haven’t been touched in years. That Jackson Frontier Faction, or whatever Maria said they were called, probably never even touched these.” You continued to read the titles before eventually picking up a book that peaked your interest. “Charlotte Bronte.” You breathed out her name as you flipped the cold, leather book in your hands. “Jane Eyre is one of my favorites. I never wanted to like all that mushy, gushy romantic stuff, but in the end, it appealed to me. You know, sometimes I think of Joel as kind of like my Mr. Rochester because he can be so grumpy at times. Don’t tell him I said that, though.” You chuckled as you turned to face Tim, but he was no longer there. 

The large bedroom was empty and you began to notice just how eerily still the air was. You calling out to him was the only sound. You waited for an answer to no prevail. Turning back to the bookshelf, you placed Jane Eyre back in its slot. With a light, barely there click, the door behind you closed. Slowly, you turned to face it. A sense of dread washed down your body as you got up and walked to the door. Your eyes cautiously bounced around as you did, looking for anything abnormal. It was wide open when the two of you walked into the room. Your hand reached out for the door knob and, barely touching it, the round thing of metal fell onto the floor and rolled around your feet. 

“Hey.” You exclaimed as you banged on the door. “Tim, the doorknob broke off. Let me out.” Your brain allowed you to think that it was all just a prank masterminded by Tim. “You got me, but it’s not funny anymore.” You began to bang louder. You heard the echoes of your fist against the wooden door, but again, he did not respond. “Tim?” You banged harder. “Help!”

“(Y/N), step away from the door.” You heard Joel’s voice on the other side. He gave you a few seconds before kicking the door in. It only took him one try before the door swung in and you were revealed to him. He pulled you into a tight hug. “You alright?” He kissed the top of your head. “How did you get locked in?”

“I’m ok---” 

As soon as he heard that you were fine, he began to bombard you with questions. “You sure? Weren’t you with Tim? Where is he?”

“Yeah, Tim was there for a moment. Look, it was probably just a draft that closed the door on me.” You wanted to believe that. 

“That still don’t change that he should’ve been with you.” Joel sternly said. Jesse watched and waited in the hallway until Joel took your hand and led you out the room. “Tim!” He called out as he sped down the stairs.

“Hey, we’ve been waiting on you guys.” Tim casually stated.

“Well, guess who’s been waitin’ on you.” Joel retorted. He glanced at you before glaring back at him.

“Wait, I don’t get it.” Tim said, confused.

“(Y/N) was locked in a room upstairs. A room both of you were meant to be in.” Joel’s voice became more aggressive.

“I don’t know how she got locked in. I didn’t do it, I swear, if that’s what you’re saying. I left it open when I walked out.” He shifted his gaze to you. “I thought you were right behind me, (Y/N). I heard Rhonda call out from downstairs and---”

“Yeah that’s true,” Rhonda began as she leaned back on an end table. “I went downstairs to look for my pencil sharpener because my tip broke and I called you guys down to keep me company. I don’t know if it’s just me, but this place kinda creeps me out. I didn’t want to be down here by myself and I know Joel and Jesse were busy upstairs so...”

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). I swear I thought you heard her too and were following me.”

“She was up there for God knows how long. You didn’t notice when you got downstairs that she wasn’t behind you? Did you even tell her that you were leaving the room?” Joel questioned him.

“Well, I mean no,” Tim began to stammer. “But that was because I thought she heard her too! I didn’t notice that she wasn’t behind me until about a minute after I got downstairs. She was having a good time looking at those books in the room, I figured maybe she ignored Rhonda and kept looking or maybe went upstairs with you guys. Look, she’s an adult! I assumed she made the decision herself not to come down. It’s not like she’s some lost child that I have to look out for!”

“She may not be a child, but we look out for each other beyond them gates. You may not be used to how patrollin’ works, but they put us in groups for a reason. Anythin’ can happen out here!” Joel explained.

“Ok, let's take a breather.” Jesse spoke up to relieve the tension. “(Y/N) is fine and that’s all that matters.” Jesse was not immune from Joel’s heated glares either. 

“You didn’t hear me calling for you?” You asked Tim in a low tone.

“No.” He simply said in an apologetic tone. You didn’t know what else to say. It was probably really all just a harmless mistake. You concluded that you didn’t hear Rhonda over your own voice when you were rambling on about Jane Eyre.

“Let’s just make sure we communicate better next time, huh?” Jesse suggested, focusing in on Tim.

A sudden, blood curdling shriek cut through the air. It belonged to Rhonda. She flailed about the living room, shaking tiny black dots off of her hand. It was hard to see as she moved quickly, but the black dots were crawling up her arm. Jesse stepped in and began swatting her with a blanket off of the couch. Her feet hopped up and down from the floor like a choreographed dance. Even after Jesse asked her to stand still to inspect her, she kept moving. Joel stepped in to gently hold her still. She whined in protest, claiming that they were still crawling on her. Tim took the time to thoroughly look over her body for anything that moved. He even raked his fingers through her hair. Jesse walked over to the end table that she was leaning against and investigated.

“There’s a sac of spider eggs directly behind one of the table’s legs. You probably broke them when you leaned against it, releasing all those baby spiders.” Jesse explained calmly.

“They could have crawled anywhere! Why did they have to go for my hand?” Rhonda asked rhetorically.

Still Jesse answered. “Maybe they were crawling toward the scent of their mother.”

“Are you saying they thought I was their mother?”

“I’m saying that the mother must still be around here close by.”

“God! I hate spiders!” Rhonda exclaimed. “I told you this house gives me the creeps. I can’t be the only one who thinks this.”

“Spiders are everywhere, Rhonda. I didn’t see any bites, so you should be alright.” Tim chimed in. 

“What were you guys checking out on the third floor?” You asked Jesse and Joel as a way to change the subject. 

“It ended up bein’ nothing.” Joel said curtly. He saw your dissatisfaction with his answer and sighed. “It turned out to be a couple of dead rats. They were frozen.”

“We haven’t gone down to the basement yet. I think we should make sure it’s clear before we start really scavenging.” Jesse made notice of the oversight. “It’s really cold in here. Can’t we make a fire first?” Tim spoke up.

“I’ll stay and make one here.” Jesse volunteered. “Tim, since you want one so bad, you can stay back and help me with it.” He turned to Joel. “Y’all can go ahead. Let us know if you run into trouble.” Joel nodded and led you and Rhonda down the basement stairs. The temperature dropped almost immediately after making it to the sub level. 

The three of you pulled your respective weapons out and cautiously walked across the cold cement floor. The large basement was divided by metal shelving units. There was no space left on any of them. It seemed like whoever owned the house before the outbreak was a hoarder. The snow blocked out any light from peering through the narrow windows. The only thing guiding the three of you were your flashlights. 

“What’s that?” Rhonda spoke up. It fell silent, but everyone heard it. It was a drawn out creaking followed by a deep rumble that sounded as if it moved across the whole basement.”

“It’s just the house settling.” Joel simply said.

“That’s what they all say. Feeling a draft when there’s no wind. Hearing doors slam in the next room. Oh, but it’s just the house settling.” Rhonda responded.

“Well, did you hear a door slam or feel a draft?” Joel inquired, almost wishing he hadn’t.

“No, but now that you mention it, it’s colder down here than upstairs. This is probably one big cold spot.”

“It’s always colder in basements.” You tried to reason.

The creaking sound occurred again. “Look,” Joel flashed his light up toward the ceiling and moved it along the direction of the pipes. “Whatever water is left in the pipes from when they were last used is freezing which means it’s expanding. As the ice grows, it’s pushing against the walls of the metal pipes.”

Rhonda looked up at the frost covering the illuminated pipes. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Come look at this.” You beckoned them over. You had found a table covered in a sheet and after whispering some encouraging words to yourself, you pulled it off.

“What is it?” Joel asked.

“It’s an orrery.” You breathed out. Despite your amazement, he was no closer to knowing what it was. As a matter of fact he was more confused. Rhonda took out her notebook and began to draw it.

“Its a mechanical model of the solar system.” You explained. To Joel, it just looked like different sized spheres positioned in a circle.

“They don’t look like planets to me.” He said.

“This isn’t the most extravagant one I’ve ever seen, but it’s something.” You walked around the table, studying the spheres. “See, right here, this one is the sun,” You pointed. “Which makes this one Earth.”

“Really makes you feel small, don’t it.” Joel chimed. 

“I know we won’t be able to take this now, but this would be great for school. The kids would love this. Teach them about how space works.” You said.

Joel studied it a little bit longer before moving on to see what were on the shelves. As soon as Rhonda was done drawing, she did the same. You threw the sheet back over the model before continuing on as well. Most of the items were either junk or rotted with mold. On one of the lower shelves, you found a small hand mirror. The base was ornate in design, but the glass itself was dull and cracked. You held it up to your face, angling it in your hands. Something moved in the corner near the crack. You didn’t pay the occurrence much mind until it happened again. You saw something in your peripheral vision that couldn’t be explained away by the house settling. Turning around, you inspected the area of interest in the dark. Everything was still. Whatever it was that moved, maybe it knew that you were watching it, so it stopped. You stood still, hoping to blend into the darkness as well. Maybe you could catch it moving before your very eyes if you just waited long enough. Your heart thumped in your chest as you began to fiddle with the switch on your flashlight. Quickly, you illuminated the space in front of you only to reveal nothing but boxes stacked up against the wall and another item covered in a sheet. Carefully, you approached the cloaked object and ripped the fabric off. You jumped out of your skin at the sight before you. 

A shaky breath escaped your lips as you turned around. “You scared the shit outta me!” You told Joel. He was standing behind you when you pulled the sheet off of a standing mirror. Your light reflecting off the glass masked some of his features and for a moment, you didn’t know exactly who was standing behind you.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, darlin’.” He said. This time it was your turn to glare at him. You knew it wasn’t his fault, but your heart was still beating out your chest. “I just came up to check on you. I saw you wandering around in the dark.”

“I’m fine. I just...I thought I----” You stammered through your explanation before being cut off by a loud thump. It went eerily silent. “Rhonda?” 

“Rhonda.” Joel called out as well. There was no response. The two of you searched up and down the makeshift aisles that the shelving units created. You called out for her again. 

“She has to still be down here.” You mentioned.

“Think she pulled a Tim?” Joel suggested.

“No, she wouldn’t do that. God, how is this basement so huge?” He led you to a tunnel-like portion of the room. “Rhonda!” Your light shone on her unmoving form on the ground. You and Joel kneeled beside her. Upon closer inspection, you found blood slowly dripping out from the back of her head. The back of her hair was matted in a mixture of gravelly dirt and the dark red liquid. Joel got back up and flashed his light around the narrow space to see what could have happened.

“Looks like she hit her head on this.” Joel commented. You followed the direction of his light and saw a stack of cement blocks against the wall. The top block had fresh blood painted on the side of it.

“Go get Tim. He needs to help her!” You were scared for her. The blood wasn’t coming out at an excessive rate, but there was still a lot more than you wanted to see on the ground underneath her head. 

Joel began to leave in a hurry, but stopped in his tracks. “Be careful, (Y/N). This is what she must have slipped on.” He said as he shone his light on a patch of black ice on the ground. He moved the light higher and inspected the pipes directly above his head. A frozen over droplet formed around a tiny crack in the cylindrical piece of metal. 

You were scared as you sat alone with her in the basement. Her lips were turning blue and you couldn’t tell if it was because she was dying or because it was really cold down there. You wanted to believe the latter. Either way, she needed to be moved. After what felt like five long minutes, Tim came rushing into the narrow section where you waited. You screamed for him to be careful around the ice. He hopped over the patch and knelt down by Rhonda’s side to assess her head injury. He managed to wake her back up, though she was slipping in and out of consciousness. Tim gently picked her up and walked her upstairs to where the fire was going. Jesse laid a blanket down on the floor in preparation for her. 

There, in the middle of the living room floor, Tim treated Rhonda. He diagnosed her as having obtained a severe concussion. He elevated her bandaged head and gave her a pain killer to swallow. He practically swaddled her in the extra blankets to discourage sudden movement. 

“I’m going to help her eat so her medicine can digest properly. After that, I’m going to ask her a set of basic questions just to see where her brain and motor functions are. Nothing major; her brain definitely needs some time to heal. Despite falling unconscious, the blunt force trauma doesn’t seem to have caused any swelling or permanent brain damage, but like I said, I still have to evaluate her and see where she’s at.” Tim explained. The four of you were huddled together on the other side of the living room to make sure she was out of ear shot.

“If you’re gonna look after her, I reckon the rest of us should finish scavenging. The faster we do this, the faster we can get back home where she can better rest.” Joel stated.

“Given the storm ends soon.” Jesse spoke up.

While the three went up the stairs, Tim went over to his backpack to review his medical supplies. As he rummaged, a drawn out creak sounded from the kitchen. He glanced in the direction of the room despite not being able to see inside. A few moments of silence was followed by a loud bang. Tim glanced back toward the kitchen again. This time, he moved closer to the fire, giving him a better view into the room. His heartbeat quickened as he peaked around the corner. From his angle, nothing suspicious could be seen. He exchanged a worried glance with Rhonda before looking at the staircase. He wanted to see if anybody upstairs had heard. If not coming down to investigate, he figured they would at least shout out to them and ask if they were ok, but there was nothing. 

“I’m going to go see what that was.” Tim said to Rhonda.

“Please don’t.” She replied weakly.

“It’ll be fine, I promise.” 

“No, no, no.” She profusely shook her head. Tim read her face, he knew that she was sincerely frightened, but if there was an impending danger, he needed to know where it was. I would only be gone for a moment, he told her in his head. He pulled his gaze from her and turned the corner. The kitchen appeared completely normal. He was confused. The sound was so close; it had to have come from the kitchen. As a precaution, Tim went into the laundry room located right off the kitchen. 

“(Y/N)? Come here. Wait with me.” Rhonda spoke up, barely above a whisper. She didn’t hear you come down the stairs, but you were in the living room nonetheless. It was good timing as she was too scared to be by herself. “Please?” You hadn’t so much as looked in Rhonda’s direction. You just walked from one end of the room and down the hallway, disappearing from her view. “(Y/N)?”

Rhonda waited for you to come back down the hall. This time you’d be facing her and surely she’d be able to get your attention. Despite calling out again, you never did. Left to her own devices, Rhonda began to think about what you wore when the group left Jackson. She couldn’t completely remember, but the more she thought on it, the more she realized what you wore just a moment ago was different from what you wore earlier today. She never did get a good look at that woman’s face, but she thought it was you by the color of your hair and the height. She wanted it to be you. A wave of shivers ran down her spine as the realization sat in. 

You, Jesse and Joel split up the rooms upstairs to cover more ground, but decided to stay on the same floor to avoid a repeat of what happened earlier. As soon as you were done searching your room, you moved on to the next only to find Jesse. He called you over from the doorway but shushed you as you walked in. You noticed that it was a grand bedroom, similar to the one you were locked in on the second floor. You walked past the four post bed and stood next to him. His ear was to the wall.

“Tell me if it’s coming from here.” Jesse whispered. You heard a faint scratching sound, but it could have been from anything inside the old house. Standing next to him, you mirrored his position and let your ear rest against the cold wall. The scratching sound became more clear as it mingled with a slow, yet distinct clicking sound. The two of you stared at each other. You silently expressed to him that you did in fact hear what he was hearing. You read the question in his eyes, unsure of how to answer: what was behind these walls? This was the last room in the hallway, so there wasn’t much space for anything else. You began to walk backwards with your ear sliding against the wall to follow the sound. Jesse followed your footsteps. When you stopped, there was no more than a half foot distance between you two.

“It’s right here. Right on the other side.” You whispered. Jessed nodded. Subconsciously, you held your breath and stayed like that for a few moments. Suddenly, you jumped at a new sound echoing through the room. It was Joel clearing his throat as he glared between you and Jesse from the doorway.

“What’s this?” Joel asked in a less than impressed tone. His arms were crossed as he walked in further. You hadn’t realized how the proximity in which you stood to Jesse looked from another view point. You knew Joel wasn’t the happiest camper around Jesse, but you also knew that you hadn’t done anything wrong. Quietly, you placed a finger to your lips and pleaded for his silence with your eyes. As he walked closer, you could tell by the curiosity in his face that he heard it too. He made a move to stand in between the two of you, prompting the other man to walk away from the wall. “It’s probably termites or rats. This house is old and falling apart. There’s no tellin’ how many little openings there are.”

“With all due respect, I don’t think it’s rats this time.” Jesse disagreed. “I think we should investigate.”

“What good would that do? There’s nothing beyond these walls! You’ve seen it; there's nothing but the outside. If it ain’t rats, then what is it? We ain’t here to play ghost hunter, alright? We’re meant to be lookin’ for them supplies.” Joel argued. His attention was geared at Jesse, but when there was no rebuttal, he turned to look at you only to find a hint of disappointment in your face.

“Who knows how long we’re gonna be stuck in this house. We may as well while we’re here.” You said. Much to Joel’s dislike, you sided with Jesse. With an exasperated sigh, he agreed under the condition that it wouldn’t take long.

The three of you walked around the room, looking for clues such as holes in the walls for rodents to scurry through. It didn’t take long for you to find a draft coming from behind the armoire. It was as if the large piece of furniture was blocking an opening. The two men moved it out the way to find that it was blocking a crawl space. With the opening exposed, the scratching and clicking became clearer. The three of you were hesitant, knowing that whatever it was making that sound, it was through that small, dark space. You glanced between the two men before volunteering to go in first. You were the smallest, you argued, and could best fit through. Crouching down, you saw that the large hole in the wall was like a tunnel to something deeper in the house but that it also passed the interior of the wall. You let out a deep breath and began to crawl with a knife in your right hand.

With your body only 3/4ths of the way in, you came face to face with the origin of those sounds. You removed your flashlight from your waist and shined it on the clicker. It was so disfigured that you concluded that it had turned many years ago. Remaining completely still, you watched as it slowly clawed at the wall. The scene before you was so abnormal. Never had you seen a clicker move so slow. You eyed the way it was positioned between the walls. It could have found its way out easily if it wanted to. Living for years after the outbreak, you observed how the fungal parasite used its host cleverly to spread its disease. It had probably been there for so long, blocked by the armoire, that its blood lust fell dormant. You continued to watch as its mouth slowly opened to release a few clicking sounds before closing again. You were afraid that as soon as any sudden movements were made, a switch would flip in whatever was left of the  clicker’s brain and it would begin attacking you. While silently weighing your choices, Joel and Jesse noticed that you hadn’t moved for minutes and asked if you were ok at the same time. He gave the younger man a glare before refocusing on your well being. Your eyes immediately went back to the clicker to see if it was disturbed by the sudden sound. Normally, all it took was the tiniest sound of a human voice to activate their savage nature. You watched and waited, but nothing different happened. You let out a deep breath and told the guys you were ok. Despite the thing being closer than you would have liked, it was an easy kill. You told them what had happened before carrying on through the crawl space. The tunnel spilled out into a secret room. It was as big as a walk-in pantry closet or a janitor room. Before you stood up, you shouted behind you for them to follow. It was a tight squeeze, but they did it.

The group had already scavenged valuable odds and ends throughout the house, but this was the jackpot. The walls were lined with nonperishable foods and cases of bottled water stacked up as tall as Joel. Jesse broke the lock on a heavy duty trunk to find it full of weapons and ammunition. There was another trunk with other survival tools like batteries, matches and medical supplies raided from a hospital. The three of you donned huge smiles at the amount of supplies that was discovered. With Rhonda injured, you pulled out your own notebook and marked everything that was inside the room while the other two filled their bags up to the brim to take what they could.

Downstairs in the laundry room, Tim found nothing out of the ordinary. It made no sense to him. Was it all a prank; something the rest of the group was doing to initiate him into the patrol job? Or was it all in his head? He knew it wasn’t that; he wasn’t crazy. Just as he turned to walk back into the kitchen, he heard the loud bang again. It came from the same place he investigated just moments ago.

“Rhonda, did you hear…” He shouted out as he walked into the kitchen. He stopped mid sentence when he saw the disarray before him. All the drawers were pulled out and all the cabinet doors were opened. His body froze in fear. The only thing that moved were his eyes as he watched a mouse scurry between the cupboards. For no good reason at all, he was overcome with a feeling to not look behind him as if there was something there waiting to reveal itself in the laundry room.

“Tim!” Joel shouted from the living room. He was still scared, but hearing his voice snapped him out of that debilitating fear. Quickly, he made his way out the kitchen. Without warning Joel pushed him against the living room wall and held his arm against Tim’s throat to keep him in place. “Where the hell were you?” Joel asked aggressively. “We come down here to find Rhonda crying and bleeding through her bandages.” Tim’s eyes, bulged out, danced across the room before landing on the wounded woman. You were holding her in your arms.

“C’mon. Ease up. He gets it.” Jesse gently rested his hand on Joel’s shoulder.

“No, I don’t think he does.” He replied over his shoulder before looking back at Tim. “When you said you were gonna look after her, I figured you meant it. I thought we’d been over this, Tim.” He glared daggers into the medic’s eyes, but he was only met back with fear. Assuming that he was the cause, Joel finally let go. Tim scurried to another corner of the living room to gather himself. 

“I saw her...it...whatever that thing was!” Rhonda spoke up raspily. “I called out to her, thinking it was you. I thought you’d left me, but then she came back. Not once did she look at me, but she paced the living room and each time she walked back, she got closer to me. I told her to stay away, but she didn’t listen; she kept coming closer. I tried to crawl away, but I got dizzy and my vision got blurry.” She began to weep again. “So I closed my eyes and counted to ten, like my Nana taught me when I was little. Then I heard you guys come down the stairs. When I opened my eyes, all I saw was you. The real you. She was gone. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Rhonda.” Tim hoarsely apologized. “I...I was gone because there was this sound. A huge bang. You guys didn’t hear that?” Joel only offered a blank glare while you and Jesse shook your heads. “It had come from the kitchen. It was only right there, so I figured it was close enough for me to see what it was. Just in and out.”

“Well, it wasn’t in and out was it?” Joel questioned.

“That’s the thing. When I went into the kitchen, I couldn’t find anything out of place; nothing to have made such a noise.”

“I told you not to go in there.” Rhonda said in a low tone.

“I saw that there was another room right off of the kitchen. I decided to investigate that while I was in there. I meant to be quick.” Tim explained, meeting no one’s eyes in particular. “I...I...I swear to you, my back was to the kitchen, and when I turned back around, the whole thing was a mess.” You continued to hold Rhonda as she shivered while Jesse and Joel rounded the corner into the kitchen. Things were a mess, yes, but in the way a house this dilapidated would be.

“I don’t get it.” Jesse whispered to Joel.

“I know you couldn’t have expected this place to be immaculate.” Joel said to Tim. The medic followed them into the kitchen and looked around with his mouth agape.

“It wasn’t like this. The...the cabinet doors were open! All of them! And the drawers. All pulled out! I mean what could have done that all at once in the matter of seconds?”

“Your mind maybe.” Jesse answered. 

Tim shook his head. “I saw it with my own eyes.” He whispered. 

“Whatever it was, it’s gone now.” Joel concluded.

“Yeah, I vote we call it a night and settle around the fire. Tomorrow morning, we will collect as much as we can upstairs and prepare to leave.” Jesse suggested.

“Right, we meant to tell you guys, we found the cache!” You began excitedly. “You should have seen it. It wasn’t as extravagant as when the kids found the pirate ship in The Goonies, but it was just as special. Everything in there is everything we need.”

Rhonda’s weeping quieted down into whimpers as she was comforted by the idea that they would get to leave soon. Tim acknowledged your words with only a nod. His mind was still on the house and all the tricks it's played since the group arrived. Was the woman that Rhonda spoke about all in her head. He was quick to think so on account of her head injury. For her it was easy to explain away, but what about himself? He wasn’t a doctor of psychology, but he was familiar with the idea. He felt fine and had no idea how he could have made something up that played with more than one of his senses. 

Tim volunteered to take the first shift of keeping watch, determined to catch whatever was messing with him. His plan was to wake the others up as soon as something happened so they could see what he had saw. The exhaustion he felt, however, played against him and he dozed off. When he came to, the living room was shrouded in darkness. The makeshift pit in the middle of the living room floor was nothing but ash. His mind raced as his thoughts went back to that elusive woman Rhonda was haunted by. He was so engulfed with fear that he couldn’t tell if what he was hearing was the whistling wind seeping through the cracks of the barricaded windows or the whispers of a woman. He looked at all the sleeping forms and wanted so badly to wake someone up to keep watch with him, but selflessly chose against it. Sitting there, his eyes flickered to every corner of the room, waiting for something to happen. He waited for so long that he forgot to wake Jesse up for his shift to keep watch. It wasn’t until the little rays of sunshine poked through did Tim realize how long he’d stayed awake for. There was something about the light that comforted him. He mustered enough courage to get up and stretch his legs before waking up the rest of the group. 

Joel peaked behind one of the barricades and saw that the blizzard had finally passed. Despite that, there was a significant amount of snow left on the ground. The group wasted no time in doing as they agreed last night. The bad feeling that each of them got coupled with Rhonda’s injury, quickened their pace. After packing what they could carry, the group grabbed their horses and made a slow trek through the snow back to Jackson, leaving the dark manor in their wake. 

[chibivesicle]

Golden Kamuy chapter 261 - called it.

As the break surrounding American Thanksgiving comes to an end, I have a little more time to write this week’s meta.  Overall, I’m feeling pleased that I was able to predict the major plot point in this chapter, but it was pretty obvious.

The chapter starts off with Meiji era firefighters doing their things and Kikuta wanders back into the plot.  The fire crew fights the fire sending a crew to the rear of the brewery.

Kikuta is wandering through the building in a less smoky area.  Seeing that he’s cool and collected, I’d guess his strategy was to try to slowly cover the ground to find Asirpa. 

Usami raced off to chase Kadokura since his obsession with him seems to overpower his ability to follow Tsurumi’s orders.  Kikuta is met with the barrel of a rifle as he turns a corner to bump into the regrouped 27th.

He looks a little awkward since someone pointing a gun at you isn’t exactly a relaxing situation but the unnamed private apologizes as everyone looks at him.  Tsurumi seems pretty relaxed, Tsukishima seems resigned as he holds Asirpa and Koitio and Nikaido just blankly look at him. I like how Kikuta is able to remain calm as he greets Tsurumi, he is truly a classy man.  He simply listens to Tsurumi’s update about avoiding Hijikata or Sugimoto and that there is also a sniper on the loose.  It is then that Kikata shows some nervousness knowing that the body is that of Usami.  I think he does a great job of either acting surprised or maybe he’s honestly surprised since Usami was a great fighter, but he also knew he rushed into situations while he has always been methodical.

It looks to me that Koito and Tsukishima are both looking down towards Usami and not actually looking at Kikuta.  I think if Koito were looking at Kikuta, his gaze would be more to the left but it isn’t.  I wonder if both of them are thinking, Usami was a bit crazy thank goodness . .

The action then shifts to Ogata wondering where Vasily is as he thinks what his plan would be.  He states he’ll try to move upwind of the smoke for better visibility.  Is Ogata continuing the sniper battle?  I’m not sure, he may be just trying to avoid him.  He’s had a long evening and he’s smart enough to know when to retreat.  The fact that there is smoke, I would expect him to use his previous experience with Tanigaki and how he knew he retreated too late when Tanigaki escaped from Huci’s home.  It seems that Ogata evolves as a sniper and strategic thinker, but Vasily is just doing what he’s always done. 

We get some rare Vasily thoughts as he is looking for Ogata at the ground level.  It seems he finally figured out Ogata’s name so now we get the thought of his name.  He predicts Ogata trying to outflank him using the smoke to conceal his movement.

I dunno Vasily, Ogata already dealt with this situation with Tanigaki so I think he’ll do something unpredictable to pursue Tsurumi and the 27th from the shadows.  Face it, you are out classed.

The action returns to Sugimoto charging at Boutarou who whips his hair into his face blocking his vision.  He easily dodges his strike and grabs his rifle.  More importantly he asks Sugimoto if this will only be settled if one of them dies.

Which is a logical statement before he kicks Sugimoto in the face.  But Sugimoto can’t be stopped as he hits him in the face with the butt of his rifle and he falls to the ground as he draws his rifle ready to kill Boutarou since he’s immortal so it means that he won’t be the one to die when this is settled.

Very unusual for the manga, Boutarou decides to surrender.  He holds up his hands and smiles that he’s been beaten, but Sugimoto isn’t having any of that.  But then just as he fires Shiraishi deflects his shot (I think he was close enough that he wouldn’t miss.)  Oh YES!  Shiraishi indeed comes to the rescue of Boutarou.  I knew there is something between these two.

Shiraishi points out the obvious fact that Sugimoto needs to calm down and that they won’t find where Asirpa is if he’s dead.  Shiraishi, the underrated guy who is pretty intelligent!

Boutarou points out they will have to team up and Sugimoto is already walking away once he hears it was the 27th and assumes Tsukishima is the one who got her (incorrect) and he’s ready to just leave with Shiraishi.  Boutarou got some skins from Kadokura and he’s got the insider Ainu information, he thinks it is more than enough.  I love how Sugimoto thinks that because Boutarou hit him with a shovel he can’t trust him and thinks Hijikata is better (you know the man who has tried to kill you more than once) and he orders Shiraishi to come with him.  He the also assumes that Vasily will somehow protect Asirpa and that the 27th can’t escape.  

God, his logic is so flawed.  We know that Vasily is after Ogata, and Ogata only.  He doesn’t care about Asirpa and he never has for all we can tell and his inner dialogue in this chapter indicates as much.  Plus, Tsurumi always finds ways to escape so thinking a Russian sniper who doesn’t understand Japanese is going to snipe the entire 27th to protect Asirpa is - well insane.  Perhaps, the hit to the head with the shovel was too much.  Aaannnnnd the next page proves my point.

Look it is Vasily now up on a roof again asking for Ogata to come out of his hiding position.  But Ogata is no fool, he’s instead inside at a higher level with his rifle ready as he scans for Vasily.  He’s likely looking for him so that he can just move to avoid him and he’s not running outside.

Sugimoto then runs into a random guy with really weird round eyebrows, tied up.  Of course it is the fire crew that went around the back and they were tied up by the 27th who are escaping under the guise they are the fire crew!

Tsurumi drives the fire engine and Tsukishima walks off close to the viewer.

I wonder if Ogata is looking at them to determine that they are the 27th and if they have Asirpa?  It would be great if Vasily thinks he is continuing his sniper game and Ogata just follows the 27th and he’s left sitting on the roof of some building into the dawn.

Sugimoto unties the firefighters and asks were the 27th went. They don’t have any horses for obvious reasons, since the 27th stole them, but Boutarou has a solution.  Shiraishi is supporting him!  This means he ignored Sugimoto’s call to leave him behind and he’s even helping him move more quickly.  I want to know more about their relationship as characters!

And boom! Boutarou has found a Sapporo beer promotional car!  Which he can drive.  Sugimoto is of course impressed as his ability to drive a motor vehicle and there was a Sapporo Beer car, though this one is a lot fancier.

We learn that he learned to drive with Eddie Dun while hanging out with Wakayama.  The flashbash shows him wearing some cut off shorts, his arm around Dun while Wakayama holds his shoulder.  Does this confirm bisexual/pansexual Boutarou?  Considering how he acts around Shiraishi as well, perhaps.  There is also the fact that the other flashback had him in the nude when Wakayama told him to give up on the gold.  We also know Dun was running around nearly naked with the Ainu woman’s garment from Asirpa’s relative’s daughter. 

With that the chapter ends as Boutarou drives off in the direction that the 27th is headed in the beer car!  Which oddly makes me think of the Oscar Meyer Wienermobile and all the jokes that go along with that.

Conclusions from this chapter are pretty simple.

1.) Tsurumi has found an easy way to leave and is heading north with Asirpa.  Koito and Tsukishima seem distant and reflective and Kikuta is playing it calm like the 007 that he is.

2.) Vasily is continuing the sniper battle.  Does he care about Asirpa? Fuck no.  Does he care about Tsurumi? Nope.  Does he care about Ogata?  Too much.

3.) Ogata is avoiding Vasily.  But if he’s continuing the sniper battle is questionable at best.  I predict he’ll use something from his battle with Tanigaki to evade Vasily.  Either he’ll pass by in the open while Vasily thinks he behaves in a predictable fashion.  Which Vasily should know that Ogata already doesn’t act like a typical sniper so he should stop thinking that way.  Ogata doesn’t waste his effort or actions, he sniped Usami because it was the right thing to do.  It doesn’t mean he’s in the mood for more of this waste of his time as Tsurumi escapes with Asirpa.

4.) Shiraishi is the hero of the day!  He’s on a roll. He saved Sugimoto from the fire and now he saved Boutarou from Sugimoto.  He knows that Boutarou is a smart guy and as I’ve stated before, he’s there to make Sugimoto uncomfortable.  It is because of Boutarou that they are able to steal the beer car to pursue the 27th, but I predict something will prevent them.  Like they run out of gas or end up in a ditch and have to retreat and rest up before attempting to rescue Asirpa. Does this mean that ShiraBou is real?  Or are you just trolling us Noda?  Eh? Eeehhh?????? Boutarou clearly wasn’t worried wearing shorts with other men, flaunting his sexy figure.

5.) Hijikata’s group has fully retreated.  We didn’t see them in this chapter, but they are smart enough to have withdrawn versus trying to pursue the 27th or Sugimoto.

Well that is all for now. I think the 27th will successfully escape since it will have to make other groups consider how to rescue her.  I’d love for Ogata to stalk the 27th and sneak her out from Tsurumi’s grasp leaving everyone else to clash.

[ellewritesathing]

So Close  -  S.S. XLI

Summary: The universe has a funny way of putting the things you want right in front of you, but just out of reach. Stiles and Y/N have been best friends ever since Scott brought him home, but when Stiles realizes that he might want to be something other than best friends, she leaves to go to some fancy private school up North. Now that she’s back though … maybe he’s got a shot? A Teen Wolf AU in which the reader has always been so close to Stiles and yet so far.

Masterlist   Prev. | Part 41

Word-count: 6.7k+

A/N: not to like shamelessly self-promote but like. you guys might like this prompt i did for stiles 👀

You couldn’t sleep. Even with your friends safely back in your life and Stiles asleep next to you, you couldn’t sleep. Eventually, you rolled onto your side and watched the rise and fall of Stiles’ chest as he snored. You smiled and reached over to play with his hair. His heartbeat slowed after a little while and his snoring became a bit softer. 

Taking your hand back after a while and lying down again, you pulled up your shirt and ran your hand along where the bullet hole should have been. It was freaky; your skin was perfect. You’d been injured internally plenty of times and healed but this was the first time you’d had a proper external wound. It healed slowly at first, better than a human but nothing to write home about, and then Deaton gave you blood. It made you feel sick. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

“Hey,” Stiles said softly. When did he wake up? He yawned and moved closer, putting his hand on top of the one you had on your stomach. His thumb grazed where the wound should have been. “You know I didn’t mean what I said earlier, right? My mouth kinda moves before my brain does sometimes.” 

You smiled. “Yeah, I know.” You squeezed his hand before turning back onto your side to face him. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did, though. I mean, it is pretty weird.” 

“You could never be weird to me,” Stiles said. Then he squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. “That was, like, ridiculously lame. I’m sorry. I just meant … you know. I’m usually the one being maimed, not you.” 

“Yeah and it hurts like a bitch,” you said with a sharp exhale and a roll of your eyes. 

Stiles laughed and lifted his hand to your face. “Yeah, the worrying isn’t that great either. You wanna trade back?” 

“Kind of wish we could give up both,” you said with a small smile. 

Stiles shifted and pulled you into his arms. He kissed the top of your head and sighed. “At least, for now, we’re both safe. Neither maimed nor worried.” 

“I like the sound of that.” You found his hand again. “Almost as much as your use of ‘nor.’”

“You liked that, huh?” 

“Yeah, it really distracted from the blatant lie that neither of us is worried right now.”

Stiles laughed and then it was quiet for a moment. You could hear Noah’s heart beating in his sleep down the hall, but Stiles’ beat louder. His fingers drummed your arms in the silence. You didn’t want to ruin the moment, but you had to tell him what happened. 

“Theo wants me in his pack,” you said. No use sugar-coating it. Stiles’ drumming stopped. “He called me the shadow wolf. Said that I was more like them than I was like you guys.” 

“He’s wrong,” Stiles said instantly. You could almost hear him frowning. “You know that, right?” 

“The thing is … I don’t think he is wrong,” you said quietly. “With all the chimeras - even before we knew they weren’t like us - I felt bound to them. Like whatever they’re made of … maybe I am too. I- I’m not going to join them. I hate Theo. And even if I didn’t, I could never leave you or Scott.”

Stiles was quiet, working hard to choose the right words. As much as you loved him for it, if he didn’t say something soon, you were going to throw up. When he did speak, he didn't start asking the questions you knew were bouncing around in his head. All he said was: “You promise you’re not gonna leave?” 

“I promise. No matter what.” 

With that out of the way, Stiles relaxed. Still, you waited for him to say something. To ask what you meant, maybe even what it felt like to 'be bound' to the chimeras. But he was quiet, so quiet that you thought he’d actually gone to sleep until he said, “I’m gonna kick his ass.” 

“Can I shoot him first? I’m still pretty pissed off about that.” 

“Of course. Then you can hold him down while I kick him in the-” 

With that colorful image in mind, you went to sleep with a smile on your face. Unaware of Stiles lying awake and anxious next to you.

---

Usually, after half of your group got injured and while you were making plans, things were at least a bit quieter for a few days. Unfortunately, the Dread Doctors weren’t so kind as your other foes; you’d only been shot yesterday and now you were racing down the highway with Scott and Stiles, chasing after the Beast behind a group of police. 

“Unit Five heading northwest on Crescent reporting an incredibly large … something,” Clark said over the radio.

Another deputy responded, “Unit Nine to Dispatch, I think I’ve got eyes on the same thing. Some kind of rabid animal.” 

“Unit Five to Nine, trust me: That’s no animal,” Clark said. 

You laughed and unbuckled, leaning forward to poke your head between Scott and Stiles in the front. “She’s not wrong.” 

“Yeah, but-” 

Scott was cut off by Strauss coming in over the radio. “Unit Six to Dispatch, we have a situation downtown. Multiple fatalities.”

The voice of the dispatcher sounded cold compared to the overwhelmed officers. “Copy, medics on the way. Do you have a perp insight, Unit Six?”

“Negative,” Strauss said. He sounded overwhelmed. You guessed as weird as Beacon Hills was, not many people knew how to react after a werewolf attack. “Looks like a 10-91E. Animal attack.”

“10-4, can you say what kind of animal?” the dispatcher asked. 

Stiles pulled out his radio before Strauss could answer. He also pumped the accelerator and you held onto Scott to keep from sliding back into your seat. “All units stay back. Do not engage,” Stiles said. “I repeat, do not engage.” 

“Stiles, get off the radio,” Noah snapped. You almost laughed as Stiles handed you the radio to put back. Still, Noah added, “All unit alert: Wait for back-up. Repeat: No one goes near this thing.”

“Unit Five reporting a sighting on Hill Road southbound.” 

“Unit Nine. I’ve got it turning off Oakridge, southbound on Beachwood.”

“All units, this is Dispatch. We’ve got a 911 call with an additional sighting on Mitchell.”

“Wait a second? Beachwood to Mitchell?” Stiles asked. 

“It’s headed back for the hospital,” Scott said. 

“Mom’s working tonight,” you said. “I’ll call her. Stiles, you gotta tell your dad.” 

Stiles grabbed the radio instantly. “It’s headed to the hospital. Dad-” 

“Stiles, get off this channel,” Noah said.

Stiles started arguing with his dad and you bounced your leg as you waited for your mom to answer her phone. The first call rang out so you texted her and tried again. 

Melissa sounded tired when she answered. “Hey, honey, we’re pretty swamped at the-” 

“Mom, you’ve gotta evacuate the hospital,” you rushed out. She started arguing but you talked over her. “Whatever the Beast is, it’s heading towards the hospital. And it’s going to kill people.”

You fell back into your seat as Stiles changed course towards Beacon Memorial. He was going as fast as the Jeep could manage, but the drive felt agonizingly slow. It was made worse by the constant updates from the police radio. The latest being a man on fire running into Beacon Memorial. 

When you eventually did get to the hospital, it felt abandoned and eerily similar to that night with the durach and a dying Cora Hale. You shoved those thoughts aside when a gun cocked behind you, overridden by your instinct to pull Stiles behind you. 

“Jesus Christ.” You let out a breath when you realized the threat was only Noah. He held his index finger to his mouth and shushed you. 

As much as you loved Noah, you could have strangled him right there. Once again, you shoved those thoughts aside when the lights flickered and snarling rose in the distance. 

“Fourth floor,” Scott said. 

You all nodded and headed up as quickly as you could. Noah took the lead, followed by Scott and then Stiles - you’d insisted on taking the rear in case anything snuck up on you guys.

The fourth floor was ruined. Almost none of the lights still worked (luckily, not a problem for you and Scott), the electricity crackled through torn-open wires, and parts of the ruins were on fire. You wandered around the dark halls until something flew down the hallway in front of you. Since you noticed it first, you pulled Stiles into you and Scott pulled Noah back just before the fireball roared past. 

It hit some partitioning and the flames went out. That wasn’t a random fireball; that was Parrish. Cut, charred, and disoriented Parrish. Parrish with glowing eyes. 

His eyes extinguished as Noah made his way over to him, but you couldn’t focus on their reunion. Something had thrown Parrish across the fourth floor. Something big.  

Scott walked ahead of you, but soon you found a paw print in the dust. The two of you didn’t need to say anything to know that you were going to follow the trail. The paw prints started changing, turning into something smaller and more human. Eventually, you found a sneaker print. 

It struck you as odd that it would be a shoe print and not a footprint. Parrish was made out of fire and completely naked when you found him, and the Beast was made out of shadows. Maybe it was just different. Parrish wasn’t a chimera. At least you didn’t think he was. 

“Scott …” You weren’t sure what you were going to say.

“I know,” he said with a sigh.

---

Once again, you and your friends were gathered around the island in your kitchen talking through the logistics of a crazy plan. The only thing that made this time different from all the others was the fact that Lydia was missing. 

“We get into Eichen, we get into the Closed Unit, we get Lydia, and we get out,” Stiles said, summarizing his (already very long, very detailed) explanation.  

“And we have to do it all of this while getting past orderlies, guards, electric door locks, and a Mountain Ash barrier,” Scott said.

“You guys have a plan for all that?” Malia asked. 

Stiles pulled out a keycard. “I stole this off an orderly when I visited Lydia.” He paused, looking over at the card. “But it’s useless ‘cause they reset the codes each night.”

“So why did you take it?” Kira asked. 

“He’s building up to that,” you said quietly, taking your eyes of Stiles to look at Kira.

“The only way to get Lydia out of Eichen is to make that keycard work again,” Scott said.

“And how are you going to do that?” Liam asked. You held back a smile.

Stiles held out a hand. “We’re getting to that, okay? Just listen.” He spun the laptop around to show you guys a data table. “I pulled all the history off the keycard. Two weeks ago, there was a brownout and the security system rebooted. During a reboot, all of the keycards revert back to a default code. So, if we trigger a reboot …”

“The card goes back to the default code,” you said. “All the keycards work again.” 

“But how are we going to cause a brownout?” Kira asked. 

“That’s your part,” Scott said with a hopeful smile. “You’re going to draw power from the mainline, but only enough to cause the brownout.”

That’s where Stiles jumped in to ruin their moment. “But not a blackout. If you do that, you send Eichen into lockdown which would be bad. Very, very bad.”

You touched Stiles’ arm lightly to get his attention. He was freaking Kira out. Stiles looked at you with an expression that said he was sorry, and you gave him an encouraging smile. He got a little carried away sometimes but he always meant well. 

Scott, forever oblivious, kept talking and tapped on the blueprints that covered the island. “There’s an electrical room behind the reception counter,” he said. “The main power line goes into two breakers that run power to all of Eichen.”

“Okay, slight problem,” Kira said, looking ready to have a panic attack. “I don’t know how to do that.”

“That’s okay, you have time to practice,” Scott said with another trademarked hopeful smile. 

“Let’s say all this goes perfectly,” Malia started in a voice that said she expected none of this to go perfectly. “How does the brownout get us into the Closed Unit of Eichen?”

“The system takes five minutes to reboot.” Stiles looked over at Malia. “In those five minutes, all the alarms will be turned off. And the keycard should work-” 

“And then Liam, you, me, and Y/N get Stiles to the gate of the Closed Unit,” Scott said.

“After that, Stiles is on his own,” you said. Stiles reached for your hand under the table. “He’s the only one of us who can get through the mountain ash barrier.”

“And when we’re gone, all anyone’s going to think is that there was a reboot of the security system caused by a brownout,” Scott finished.

“So, uh … any questions?” Stiles asked. 

They all started talking at the same time. From Liam: How do we get into Eichen House in the first place. Malia wanted to know what the worst-case scenario was. Kira asked what happened if she couldn’t trigger the brownout.

“Okay, admittedly, a lot could go wrong,” Stiles said, holding up his free hand in surrender. 

“Everything could go wrong,” Liam said. 

Stiles' open hand turned into a fist as you tilted your head. “Biscuit,” you said softly. Liam shrugged and started defending himself when Scott started talking.

“Guys, if we don’t do this, we lose Lydia,” Scott said. “She’s going to die in there tonight. And she might take a lot of innocent people with her.”

“We can do this,” you said. Your friends didn’t look convinced. “Okay, we’ve done a lot worse. At least this time we have a plan.” 

---

Eichen House still freaked you out, but you could only imagine what it felt like to Stiles. So many bad things had happened to him here, and you had the feeling that more bad things were still going to happen. Then again, maybe the paranoia was coming from the fact that you were inside a body bag and lying next to an actual dead body.

Parrish was surprisingly good under pressure; when the guard made him open the bags, he was completely calm. Your heart spiked at the sound of the first zip being undone, but then Parrish started opening yours and you got ready for a fight. The fight never came. The guard valued his dinner too much. 

Once you were in the morgue, you had to wait a few minutes before any of you could do anything. Stiles' heart was beating out of his chest. Admittedly, so was yours. You tore the bag open without waiting for the others, but they didn’t need any more encouragement after they heard you breaking out. 

“Oh my god,” Stiles said between gasps of air. “Never again.” 

“How much time do we have?” you asked as you got to your feet. Liam was closest, so you helped him out of his bag and to his feet. He mumbled a thank you as you waited for an answer.

Scott checked his phone. “Fifteen minutes, starting now.”

“Then let’s get started!” Stiles started fumbling to get out of his bag and fell to the floor. “Ow! Jesus.” 

You hurried over to help Stiles up. He muttered obscenities the whole time but he accepted your help nonetheless. Scott got out of his bag safely, and then you just had to wait for the orderlies to leave the hallway. As soon as they were gone, you were on the move. 

You wanted Scott to take the lead but Stiles knew this place better than any of you did, and personal knowledge trumped an hour spent studying floor plans any day. The best you could do was follow behind him and keep a careful watch for anything that might be a threat. 

The orderlies blocking your way to the closed unit were definitely a threat. 

You pulled Stiles back and Scott grabbed Liam. The four of you pressed yourselves against the wall in an attempt to hide, and the memory of doing something similar with Isaac, Erica, and Stiles popped into your mind. That felt like such a long time ago. 

“What are they doing here?” Scott whispered.

“I don’t know,” Stiles said, stealing a glance down the hall. “Their rounds should’ve ended five minutes ago.” 

Liam was decidedly less subtle with his look at the orderlies. “I can take them,” he said. 

Both Stiles and Scott glared at him for a moment. “No one’s taking anyone,” Scott said. 

“How much time?” Stiles asked, cutting Scott's alpha moment short. 

Scott checked his phone and sighed. “Three minutes.”

“I’ll just knock them out and hide the bodies,” Liam said. He was adorably oblivious. 

Stiles looked so close to slapping him that you instinctively reached for his hand to calm him down. “Oh my god, please stop,” he said.

One of the patients banged on the glass and scared you all out of your mini-argument. “Did you talk to the doctor?” he asked. 

“What?” Liam whispered. 

“Did you talk to the doctor?” he repeated. You looked over at Stiles uncertainly. “I haven’t had my medication. I need ten milligrams at 8am, 15 milligrams at 1pm, and no more than 20 at dinner.”

“We’ll get the doctor,” Scott said.

“Doctor Fenris?” the patient asked. Another beat of silence and you hoped that your nod was enough to calm him. “Doctor Fenris.” Then he started crying. He hit the glass as he said, “They took Doctor Fenris.”

“Guys-” You flinched when he hit the glass again. “He’s going to blow our cover. I can take the blame and get the orderlies out of here.” 

“No way, you’re not going anywhere,” Stiles said. “Scott, do something.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Scott whispered.

The patient stopped banging on the glass, but he was still distressed. “I haven’t had my medication. I need to see the doctor.” Stiles looked down the hallway. The orderlies were coming closer. “They took Doctor Fenris.”

“Somebody shut him up,” Stiles said. 

“I need to see the doctor!”

“Shut him up.” 

You pulled your hand away from Stiles before he could argue and stepped into the hallway. “I told you: I don’t know where the doctor is, alright?” you said to the patient. “I’m just looking for my brother- nurses, could you help me? This place is like a freaking maze.” 

“How did you get here?” one of the orderlies asked, roughly grabbing hold of your arm. 

“I was looking for my brother. They said he was moved to another unit and that they’d take me to see him but no one ever came.” You shook your head and gave them a very clueless smile. “I’m sorry. Is this area, like, restricted or something?” 

The orderly that had your arm looked ready to bite your head off but the other one just shook his head and gave you a tired smile. Either he wasn't paid enough or people wandering around the halls was a common occurrence.

“Let’s take you back to the reception area, okay?” he said. “They can sign you in and track down your brother. You can come to see him during visiting hours tomorrow.” 

You forced a laugh and started following them down the stairs not too far away from the gate that your friends would need to break through in a few seconds. “You’re the nicest person I’ve run into all night,” you told him, careful to smile at the grumpy one too. 

You carried on with your charade all the way back to the reception area, and then you gave them an annoyingly over-the-top thank you. They smiled and told you to wait for the nurse behind the counter to come back. You did not. As soon as they were out of sight, you made a b-line for the electrical room. 

Malia immediately grabbed you and threw you against the wall as soon as you opened the door. She looked confused to see you but still held onto you. 

“Relax, it’s just me,” you said, holding your hands up defensively. 

“What are you doing here?” she asked. "You're supposed to be with Scott and Stiles."

“The dummies almost got busted,” you said with a small shrug. “I fixed it and came to check on you guys. Hey, Kira. How’s it going?” 

Kira looked away from her small opening in the door and gave you a small smile. “Could be better. I don’t know if these guards are supposed to be here. How are we going to get out?”

Malia let go of you and the two of you walked over to check out the guards. “We don’t want to set off any alarms until Lydia is out,” she said. 

“You’re right. Maybe we could-” 

You stopped talking when one of the guards came in over the radio. The perimeter guard hadn’t checked in. You looked at Malia when the two guards rushed out to see what caused the delay. She shrugged and closed the door. 

"Not our problem," she said.

Kira leaned against the door to get a better listen, but you and Malia didn’t need to. You heard the nurse loud and clear when he told someone that visiting hours were over, and then you heard Tracy tell him that they weren’t there to visit. 

“Shit,” you whispered.

They pulled the nurse across the counter and slammed him to the ground. Tracy wanted to finish him off, but Theo said they were on a schedule and it was better to leave him. You, Kira, and Malia held a collective breath until the chimeras left. 

Malia was the first one out the door and she slapped the nurse to get him to wake up. It didn’t work but at least his heart was beating. 

“It’s started,” Kira said, looking down at her electrified hands. 

“Then we need to get you out of here,” you said. You reached out to grab her arm but stopped when you remembered how she fried Scott. “Let’s go.”

“But what about the others?” Kira asked. 

“They should already be back at the morgue,” Malia said. “We need to go.”

Kira took a second to decide and then jumped over the nurse and the three of you made a run for the morgue before Kira messed up Eichen’s frequency again. The others weren’t there, so you hoped they’d gone to the van instead. The alarm started blaring before you could share your theory. 

You grabbed the sides of your head and collapsed in on yourself. Malia grabbed your arm to pull you out and reached for the doorknob, but it was electrified and both of you got electrocuted as a result. To top it off, the alarm still made your ears bleed. 

Malia took a deep breath once she got back to her feet. “Lockdown,” she said. 

You were still cringing on the ground when Scott started roaring. When your body got to its feet, it felt like being possessed again; you weren’t the one who moved your body. But once the brief discomfort was over, your head was clear and the alarm didn’t hurt so much anymore. 

 “Something’s wrong,” you rushed out. “I need to go help them.” 

“No,” Malia argued, turning back to the door as the lights went out. “We need to get out of here.” 

You were still arguing when Kira started lighting up again. The buzzing of the electricity didn’t freak you out so much as how worried she looked. She was terrified of messing things up again. 

“I don’t know how long I’m going to last,” Kira said.

“How did you stop it before?” Malia asked. 

“Scott carried me outside, which almost killed him,” Kira said. 

“I’ve already died. It’s not so bad,” you said. You shrugged. “I can take you out.”

“Maybe we could try grounding her to something,” Malia said. “Lydia was teaching me about circuits before-” 

You tackled Malia as a bolt of electricity shot out from Kira and hit the door where Malia had been. You held onto her as Kira’s lightning struck every metal surface it could find. 

“You guys have to get out of here!” she yelled.

“We’re not leaving you,” you told her. 

Kira hit one of the body holds as she turned her back to you. You and Malia got to your feet as Kira cried, “I should’ve stayed in the desert with the Skinwalkers. I can’t control this. I’m never going to be able to.”

“Kira, it worked,” Malia said. “You saw it work. You controlled it enough to cause the brownout. You can stop it.”

“I can’t!” Kira turned to glare at you and her eyes glowed an angry golden color. “Go!” 

Even if you wanted to, an escape wasn’t possible because Kira electrified the entirety of her side of the room. Malia pulled you closer to her again and you both waited for the electrical storm to pass, careful not to touch anything conductive. 

The storm passed as quickly as it started.

“Kira?”

Slowly, you both got to your feet, but then you had to pull Malia back from grabbing Kira’s unconscious body. She argued with you but you shook your head. 

“She’ll kill you,” you said. 

“She’s right,” Josh said. You both pulled away from Kira to focus on him. “Electricity is still coming off your friend. I can feel it from here. But I can help her.”

“Why?” Malia asked. 

“Because I need your help.” Josh stepped away from the door and revealed Corey bleeding out in the hallway. “With him.”

“Oh my god, Corey.” You started forward when Malia caught your arm. She didn’t trust them; you didn’t blame her. “Mal, we’ve gotta help him.” 

Malia let go and you rushed over to Corey. You tried to lift him but he was in too much pain. Josh took Corey’s other side and looked over at you. “I knew you’d help,” he said. 

You didn’t know what to say, so you just hurried to get Corey on one of the exam tables. He was in so much pain. Almost his entire body was charred. He must have gotten caught up with Parrish. 

“Why isn’t he healing?” Josh asked. 

“Maybe he can’t. Maybe it’s too much,” Malia said. 

“He’s going to die, isn’t he?” Josh asked. 

“His heartbeat is getting slower,” you said. “But I can try to take away his pain. It could help.” 

“It might even get him to start healing,” Malia said generously. “But we’ll only do it if you help Kira.” More sparks flew and you all ducked. “You said you could help!” 

“Yeah, but it’s not like taking voltage from a car battery,” Josh argued. “She’s got a lot more power than that.” Corey groaned on the table. “Are you two going to do something or not?”

“Mal-” 

“After you help her. I don’t trust you,” Malia said.

“I don’t trust you either!” 

“Josh, do you trust me?” you asked. You’d never been close before, but you were something else now. “You said you knew I’d help him. I will, I promise.” 

More sparks. 

“We go at the same time,” Malia said, snapping his attention back to her. “Deal?”

Josh nodded reluctantly and walked over to Kira. You and Malia held each of Corey’s arms as Josh knelt over Kira. “On three?” he asked. “One.”

“Two.” 

“Three.”

The lights started flickering as Josh absorbed Kira’s electricity, but it was the least of your concerns after only a second of taking Corey’s pain. Until now, you’d never understood the phrase ‘blinding pain’ but with your vision blurring and your entire body burning, it had new meaning. 

But Corey’s heart started beating again. Rapidly. He was breathing. Kira gasped for air on the floor but it was almost impossible to hear over Josh’s screams. 

Between you and Malia, Corey’s pain faded after a minute. Josh managed to get Kira conscious and not electrified. You stayed with him but Malia went to check on Kira and Josh came back to Corey.

“Anybody know how we’re supposed to get out of here?” Corey asked, sounding scared and hurt.

“This place is still in lockdown,” Malia said.

“But it’s not just locked,” Kira said after shooting a look at the door.

“Yeah, I can feel it, too,” Josh said.

“Well, what are we supposed to do?” Corey asked. “Just wait here?” 

“We had a backup plan,” you said. Malia didn’t look like she wanted you to tell them, but you did anyway. “Mason is supposed to reset the transformer.”

“How’s he gonna do that?” Josh asked, at the same time that Corey asked if you meant his Mason. 

“He’s got the blueprints of the building,” Kira said. “And he has the full map of Eichen’s electrical system. All he has to do is get into the transformer shed behind the building.” 

“Don’t worry. Mason knows exactly what he’s doing,” Malia said. 

You had to smile to yourself. Thinking back to your first few weeks with Malia when you couldn’t stand her and she said that she would leave you in the desert, you almost couldn’t believe how much she’d grown. 

Malia and Kira kept huddled by the body holds while Josh rushed to the door to wait. Everyone was healing now, but you still felt ready to throw up. Taking away Corey’s pain had taken it out of you and if you didn’t drink some blood soon then you weren’t going to be much of a help to anyone. Surprisingly, Corey stayed with you by the exam tables. You heard the shutters on the windows roll back and then Josh pushed the door open. 

“He did it!” Josh said. 

“We gotta get to the Jeep,” you said, hopping off the table and running out with Kira and Malia. 

It didn’t take long to get to the parking lot, and even less time to get to the front and pick up the guys and Lydia. You tossed the keys to Scott as you got out and asked if Lydia was okay. 

“No, and we need to go,” Scott said. “We need to get Lydia out of here.”

Before he could get very far, Parrish collapsed onto the Jeep’s hood with claw marks all over his back. “Sorry, but she’s coming with me,” Tracy said. She held onto Lydia, no doubt paralyzing her as she did. 

“Okay, Tracy. Just wait,” Scott said. “You don’t know what’s about to happen.” 

“I’m taking her. That’s what’s happening,” Tracy said. “And none of you are going to do a thing-” 

Electricity crackled and Tracy collapsed. Natalie stood behind her with one of the guard’s nightsticks in her hands. You and Stiles reached out to catch Lydia, but you faltered and he caught her. 

“Could somebody please get my daughter out of this hellhole?” Natalie asked.

You helped get Lydia into the car with Stiles in the back. She looked awful, and you could smell the dried blood and gore in her hair. It was nothing on her fear though, nothing on Stiles’ fear either. 

Scott drove as fast as he could, but Lydia’s heart was beating too quickly. Without any warning, she let out a scream that burst your eardrum closest to her. Heightened senses meant you were weaker when it came to loud noises like that, and Lydia's scream wasn't like any other loud noise. Stiles started bleeding and the mirrors cracked. You yelled at Scott to drive faster. 

Even though the drive to the animal clinic was stressful, helping Deaton treat Lydia was even worse. Your brain was addled by the scream, and she kept screaming until Deaton injected her with mistletoe, straight into the spot where she’d been trepanned. Her final scream shattered all the windows in the clinic but you reacted too slowly. 

Scott protected Lydia but Stiles tackled you to the ground, bits of glass sinking into his back. 

“Stiles,” you said softly, hands reaching up to his face. The side of his face was still bloody from Lydia’s screams. “What are you-” 

“Someone has to take care of you,” he said quietly. 

You were both snapped out of your moment by Scott trying and failing to wake Lydia up again. You held onto Stiles’ hand as the two of you joined the others by the table. You couldn’t even hear her heartbeat. 

She let out a low moan as her heart started again. Lydia looked terrified when she opened her eyes again but she held onto Stiles’ other hand when he reached for her. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. She held onto him and nodded quickly. “You’re okay.” He took a deep breath. “Do you want to try to sit up?” 

Stiles helped Lydia sit up, wincing slightly from the glass, and she looked around slowly. Her eyes landed on Natalie in the doorway. “Mom?” 

“Oh, honey.” Natalie rushed over to Lydia and pulled her into a hug. She looked relieved for the first time in weeks. 

“They saved me,” Lydia said weakly. “Stiles saved me.”

Natalie looked up from Lydia to make eye contact with Stiles. “Thank you,” she said. After her blow up the day before, you knew it meant a lot to him for her to apologize. 

Stiles smiled at her to let her know that everything was fine, but then he winced again and ruined his heroic image. He still looked pretty heroic to you, but Natalie was a mother and all she saw was a broken boy covered in glass. 

“Let’s get you home, huh?” Natalie flattened Lydia’s hair and kissed her head. She looked ready to cry when she touched Lyd’s trepanation wound. “You can take a bath and we can watch The Notebook. Hmm?” 

“I can come with, if you want,” Scott offered with a smile. 

Lydia nodded, not bothering to hide the tears in her eyes. She thanked you on her way out and soon it was just you, Stiles, and an awful lot of broken glass. 

“Sit with me,” you said gently, tugging on Stiles’ arm to bring him to the exam table. It was so reckless of him to shield you like that but you couldn’t be mad at him. Not when he'd gotten hurt protecting you. “Do you want me to take your pain while I take the glass out?” 

“And here I was thinking you wanted to makeout with me to say thank you for saving you from all that glass,” Stiles said with a lazy smile as he watched you get Deaton’s tweezers. You gave him a look and he laughed. “No, I can handle it.” 

“You sure?” 

Stiles nodded and you bit your lip. You weren’t sure if you had it in you to take his pain away, but still. Taking out all this glass was going to take a while and it was going to hurt. 

You started with the shards furthest away from his spine, doing your best to ignore his wincing. The closer you got to his spine, the worse his pain got. You put your hand on his shoulder and tried to take his pain away like you did with Corey, but you pulled your hand away when it started burning. 

Thankfully, Stiles was too wrapped up to notice your blunder, but it was pretty hard not to when your hand started shaking. The glass clattered into the metal dish with the other shards and you took a deep breath. 

“Hey, you okay?” Stiles asked, looking over his shoulder at you. 

“Yeah, just-” You took a breath and squeezed your eyes shut. “Just a bit light-headed. It’s been a while since I’ve had anything to drink.” 

“Oh,” Stiles said softly. He looked down for a second and then used his hands to turn on the table to face you, no doubt opening some fresh wounds in the process. “You know you could do it if you wanted to.” 

You frowned. “Do what?” 

“Drink my blood,” Stiles said. God, when did this become your life? “If you can’t wait until we get home … you could do it.” 

“No. No, I couldn’t,” you said. You took a step back. “Stiles, I would kill you. And even if I could control it - which I can’t - I could never ask you to do that.” 

“But you didn’t ask, I offered.” Stiles reached for your hand and you felt so guilty for putting him through this.  

“I know, but I- I can’t risk hurting you,” you said. 

Stiles was quiet for a second. He looked down and drummed on the table for a second. “Malia told me you don’t heal without it.” 

Snitch.

“Yeah, but I’m not the one that’s hurt right now.” You sighed and took a step forward to press your forehead to his, your hand holding onto his neck. Your thumb ran across his neck. “Let’s just get you cleaned up, alright?”

Stiles was so still, but eventually, he took a breath and nodded. “Okay,” he said softly. He kissed your hand before you pulled away to finish cleaning him up. He took in a sharp breath when you pulled out the largest (and, thankfully, the last) piece of glass. You apologized repeatedly but it just made Stiles laugh and then wince. “Hey, at least it's over now,” Stiles said in an attempt to comfort you. 

You laughed and put the tweezers down. “Close. We still have to clean the cuts if you don’t want an infection.” 

“Maybe I want an infection. I could get superpowers,” Stiles said between yawns. You walked around the table and he pulled you into a hug. His face was in your hair when he mumbled, “Do you think it’ll scar?” 

“Not if I have anything to do with it,” you said. You pulled back and ran a hand through his hair. “This part will be quick, okay? Can I take your shirt off?” 

“You can take my shirt off any time, babe.” Stiles leaned back and gave you a lazy grin which made you laugh despite the horrible night you’d had. 

“Slow down, Stilinski. Let’s finish this first.”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Don’t call me ma’am.” 

“Sir, yes, sir.” 

You rolled your eyes and pushed the open button-up off his shoulders so he could take his arms out of the sleeves. You lifted the bottom of his gray t-shirt and threw it at him when he made another flirty joke. 

Cleaning and bandaging the cuts went a lot faster, which was a relief because you were exhausted and Stiles must have been freezing. When the last of the bandages were on his back, you leaned in and wrapped your hands around him.  

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you said softly. You pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Let’s go home. Do you have a shirt in the Jeep that I can bring you?”

“What’s wrong with my other shirt?” Stiles asked. 

“It’s torn and covered in blood,” you said as you pulled away. 

Stiles shrugged and pushed himself off the table. “You just want to see me walk around shirtless for a while.” 

“You know me well, Stilinski.” You took his hand in yours and lifted it to kiss him again. Stiles rolled his eyes but he pulled you closer anyway, only letting go so you could lock up the animal clinic and then to pull on a sweatshirt. 

Exhausted and worn out from the night, you fell asleep almost immediately as Stiles drove home. You weren’t sure what it was about the Jeep that did that to you; maybe the familiarly worn seats or how Stiles pumped the heat all the way up, or maybe just the way Stiles would drum on the steering wheel and play his favorite song on repeat. He was one of the only people who you trusted, and the Jeep was one of the only places you still felt safe.

Part 42

Tagged: @ietss​  @used-avocado​

[silver-wield]

Nobody asked for this one, but I said I was gonna do it anyway. Barret and Cloud's friendship development.

Don't worry, I'm not gonna make a mile long post. I'm just gonna hit on the key moments, but I think these two deserve a bit of spotlight.

Ok, spoiler warning for ppl who haven’t played – do I still need to do this? Eh ok, (I tag FF7R spoilers as final fantasy 7 remake spoilers) and it’s gonna be reasonably long.

Also, this is one person’s interpretation of the scene, so if you disagree that’s cool and we’ll agree to disagree.

You’re also gonna have to excuse the janky quality on some of the screens, I’m grabbing them from Youtube and it’s frustrating af trying to get the exact moment I want.

Other analyses if anyone’s interested.

Shinra HQ vision scene (Cloti/plot analysis) 

Chapter 3 (Cloti reblog) 

Tifa character analysis 

Aerith Resolution (plot analysis/theory – I should probably update this since I’ve had other ideas since then) 

Train graveyard (not really an analysis, but I got some sweet screenshots of Cloti) 

Clotiscrew tunnel analysis 

Cloti reunion analysis 

The Promise Analysis 

Andrea’s approval (Cloti ask response) 

Leslie analysis (not mine, but a good read) 

Cloti action touching 

Aerti friendship analysis 

Cloti body language chapter 3 

Cloti healthy disagreement 

Cloti post heliboss battle (chapter 15) 

Clerith playground scene 

Cloti body language plate fall 

Now, strap in and enjoy the ride.

I'm not recapping the whole game lol

Chapter 1: Barret isn't impressed one bit with Cloud. Watching back their early interactions and I keep noticing this sad look on Cloud's face when he's excluded. But then, I'm also like “Well you pushed them away first”. But I also wanna hug him.

Yeah, so Barret isn't impressed and he's outright hostile, calling Cloud names and antagonising him. He even shoots at Cloud and then raises his gun to take out a security bot. This man doesn't like Cloud and isn't afraid to show it.

You gotta remember, Barret is 6'5 and built like a brick shit house and has a machine gun on his arm. He's not someone to mess with. Taking that in, Cloud's dismissiveness is pretty impressive. I mean he's almost a foot shorter than Barret, after all, and his sword probably weighs more than him lol

Perhaps by the end of the chapter – after Cloud saves Jessie – Barret might have thawed a tiny bit towards him, but he's still mistrusting and doesn't like him.

Chapter 2 and there's not a lot of interaction between them. Barret does actually agree with Cloud when he says “what's done is done” in reference to the destruction. This shows Barret is pragmatic and not against Cloud himself, just his role. After that, Cloud's alone for the rest of the chapter until the above screen when he leaps into the cargo carriage of the train and Barret says, “You had me worried for a minute.”

He looks caught out when the others all look at him because he's been a total dick to Cloud throughout the mission, but this shows he cares about his team, even if he doesn't like everyone on it. Showing concern for his people is the trait of a leader and if the game were showcased differently we could assume that Barret is our leading man.

“The folks down here don't have the luxury of choice, you know.”

Still in chapter 2 and this is such a great moment between Cloud and Barret! There's no arguing, just Barret giving Cloud a different perspective that's not the badass merc “Idc” one he's showcasing. You can see once the conversation is over that Cloud grows introspective, so Barret's words clearly resonated with him. This looks like another marker on Cloud's chart of going from a douchebag to a decent human being. He thinks about how things are for other people. Later, Marle tells him to consider others feelings, too. To listen. I'm loving all these small moments that come together to build a clearer of picture of Cloud's development.

Barret actually removes his sunglasses – why is he wearing them at night? – to meet Cloud's eye. This is a gesture that shows his sincerity and belief in his words. He's not just blustering for the sake of it. He cares about the people and the planet.

Chapter 3 and we don't see Barret until near the end. He's back to being snappy with Cloud – understandable since he's being a dick going on about money.

(aside: can I just squee at Cloud smiling at Tifa through this whole bit. He's such a dork)

And when we see Barret again he's very professional and courteous. There's no emotion in his tone and his words are very formal. He could be talking to anybody. His head dips as he's speaking, in an effort to lower himself more to Cloud's physical level. On an emotional one, he's making himself non-threatening. This isn’t a confrontation is what he’s putting out.

Cloud doesn't look happy at the dismissal and something we know about him is his desire for acceptance, so this probably hurts, although he acts otherwise.

We're up to chapter 5 and this is a turning point between Cloud and Barret's budding friendship. Barret's in battle dialogue makes it clear he's trying to show off in front of Cloud, who's dismissive still. There's a lot of back and forth between them in the kind of guy banter that suggests they kind of respect each other, but they also just have to put up with each other.

The above screen is the second before Cloud says to Barret that he's better than that in response to his arguing with the Shinra manager. Barret seems surprised Cloud even tries with him, but what's more telling is this expression from Cloud shows he gave it some thought before speaking. He considered the right words to address Barret which shows he's thought about the kind of reaction Barret could have. He took in Barret’s words from chapter 2 and Marle’s from chapter 3. This is called character development!

Chapter and Cloud throws some shade and Barret blusters lol

Tbf Barret's grown a lot less hostile since chapter 1. He's not as combative to Cloud, nor is he maliciously insulting him anymore. They've entered a stage of snarky banter, which we all know is one of the big steps on the road to friendship lol

Clearly Barret being able to see Cloud in action and rely on him in battle – not to mention Tifa's enduring good opinion – are starting to colour his own opinion.

(Tifa actually rears back when Barret waves his arm around in this bit lol)

Barret looking to Cloud for back up here. I mean, they're all in the shit, but this is interesting that he's looking to Cloud for that reassurance they're gonna continue kicking ass. The fact Cloud agrees without even the tiniest disagreement is probably the first time they're genuinely on the same page through their own choice.

Let the friendship begin!

Now, I bet you're thinking I picked this one to showcase cloti, well you're wrong. This is an example of how Barret's mellowed towards Cloud from his chapter 1 hostility to now. Cloud disagrees with him and instead of getting pissed that his leader decision is overruled, he lets it go.This could be a moment of contention between them, but they’ve both grown enough over the game to get to the point that not everything between them is a fight.

Now, maybe Barret's saying this because he thinks Cloud is about to die, but that seems selfish and like he's saying it to make himself feel better after being a douchebag, and for a selfless man like Barret I just don't buy it. He's genuinely regretful of his past actions and this is the point between the two of them that they can start again and actually become proper friends.

There's no time for much of a guy reunion between them when Barret does see Cloud again all the way over in chapter 12 -- that’s a long ass time apart for Barret to think about how he treated Cloud -- and we kind of brush past Barret's feelings because the plate collapse takes priority.

After that, Barret is much nicer to Cloud, trying to get his praise in battle and being a proper support to him. There's still that snarky banter between them, but the hostile edge has gone. We see a culmination of their friendship development during the stairs climbing sequence. Where before their banter had a hard edge and combative nature to it, this is very friendly and full of jokes and warmth. Barret has definitely softened towards Cloud and considers him a real friend. You can't fake that shit.

Conclusion

Yeah, I kinda cut this short and didn't do the latter half of the game, but that's because it's much more clear than this early development. Focusing on the small interactions between them that built a gradual friendship, it took a huge shock to get Barret to reassess his opinion of Cloud and him dropping from the reactor, going missing and then showing up to save the day covered it. It was like he got a reset and from that he dropped his prejudiced preconceived ideas about Cloud and opened up to him more. Because there’s such a huge gap between the time Barret sees Cloud again, it’s easy to miss the middle part of their friendship. The part where it goes from dislike to like. It’s easy to remember Barret hating Cloud and then see them being a team after chapter 12 because those moments stick in your mind more. It’s the transition that gets lost.

I love their development and how they become friends. It's not the kind of friendship that Barret shows with Red. Those two are bros the instant they met. Cloud and Barret's relationship is more complicated because of Cloud's role and identity. It takes Barret a long time to see past that persona, especially when he's only got evidence of that to go on – unlike Tifa. Once he does, he gives Cloud his full support and trust.

I, for one, can’t wait to see how they go forward in Barret’s arc.

[the-real-tc]

Fic UPDATE! Wide River to Cross: Homecoming

Author’s Note: So close. We're so close now, dear readers. Thanks for sticking with me this far; not much longer now. I promise. As you'll see from the events in this chapter, it will be impossible to prolong the agony. (Who remembers the actual agony while watching Season 7, wondering what had happened between Jack and Lisa? I remember that agony...) All that aside, the good part about how long this story has taken me is that plot lines that have occurred down the line can be worked in, and they can make some semblance of sense. I hope. Anyway, here's the latest chapter.

Chapter 22: Homecoming

In the darkness of night, the tree-lined drive seemed eerily foreign to Lisa as the town car bore both her and Rachel to their familial estate. Though it was a view she had seen thousands of times in her life, this particular return to Fairfield granted her no trace of comfort or sense of homecoming. It was bordering on close to ten months that she had been absent—one of the longest spells she had been away since her past marriage to Dan and subsequent move to the USA.

Lisa could not help but recall other lengthy absences from Fairfield, particularly in her adolescence when she had attended boarding school in France with Rachel. While she had enjoyed those times away—thanks to her love of French culture and many outings with her doting Aunt Evelyn—the inevitable homesickness was alleviated only upon return. Now, she felt like a stranger returning to a strange place, creeping in like some interloper.

Like a thief in the night, she thought to herself wryly, fighting the encroaching discomposure without much success.

“We’re here, Rach,” Lisa whispered, giving her younger sibling a gentle nudge.

“Huh? Oh, thanks,” Rachel mumbled sleepily. “I didn’t realise I nodded off.”

She smiled slightly, watching as Rachel rubbed bleary eyes before finishing off with a long yawn. Rachel had endured only one flight; Lisa had needed three to return to Alberta. Exhaustion was indeed beginning to overwhelm her, but there was a nervous tension buzzing through her veins, keeping her on an unusual level of alertness. Now that she was back in Hudson, the mere thought of being in the same town as Jack—and potentially encountering him anywhere—set her mind spinning. How would such a meeting play out? What words could pass her lips to express to him all that was in her heart? What words, if any, would he have to say to her?

Security lights illuminated the exteriors of the stables, dispelling the shadows. Night checks would have already been completed by this hour. All was quiet now, though Lisa knew Harry Wilkes would probably still be up in his office, burning the midnight oil while waiting for their arrival.

Good ol’ Harry, Lisa thought with affection. He had been such a constant presence in her life since she was a little girl, working his way up from the very bottom as a stable hand to head groomsman. Matthew Stillman had come to trust the man with just about everything, and Lisa had done the same. Harry was dedicated to the care of the horses in a way that went beyond what was expected of a mere hired hand. Anyone else would have retired from the position by now, but Harry was still logging the same hours as he had during the past forty-five years as a Fairfield employee. He had been there through the lean years and through the successful ones.

Without her realising it, a long pout pulled at Lisa’s face as the car pulled to a stop in front of the sprawling ranch house. She knew Harry was not thrilled with the idea of her selling Fairfield, even though he was guaranteed a handsome severance package. The rest of the staff might be keen on staying on with new owners; Harry would not—Lisa was certain of that.

“Why the long face?” Rachel asked, looking over at her. “Something wrong?”

“Hmm?” Lisa shook herself. “Oh, no. It’s just that... I-I don’t think Harry is pleased with my decision to sell, that’s all.”

“So Harry’s still working here, eh?” Rachel said, lips quirking into a lop-sided smile. “Dad really lucked out when he hired him. He’s been here since before I was even born. Good ol’ Harry.”

“I honestly don’t think I could have managed without him when Dad got sick,” Lisa mused out loud.

Sure enough, the door to the Fairfield business offices opened to reveal the man in question, silhouetted against the interior lights. He waved jauntily at them, and Lisa intuited he was intent on helping them unload their luggage.

“C’mon,” she said to Rachel as she opened her door. “Let’s get out before he gets the idea we’re going to let him carry everything into the house. He’s been up all night waiting; he’s got to be tired after working all day.”

“Right,” Rachel said in agreement, though she was staving off another yawn of exhaustion.

“Ah, the two prettiest girls in Hudson have made their triumphant return,” Harry greeted them affectionately; paternally.

“Oh, Harry,” Lisa said with a chagrined laugh, “I don’t know about ‘triumphant’, and after travelling all day, we look like something the cat dragged in.”

“Ha! Speak for yourself, sis,” Rachel interjected merrily. “Harry, flattery gets you everywhere. It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise, Rachel.”

The three gathered for a warm group hug. As Lisa guessed moments earlier, the next words out of Harry’s mouth were an offer to bring their luggage inside.

“No, no, you take it easy Harry,” Lisa quickly stated. “You’ve had a long day, too. Rachel and I can manage just fine.”

“Nonsense,” Harry said, reaching for the largest of the pieces the chauffeur had just deposited from the trunk. “Your father would be horrified if he saw me standing by idly while you two dragged all this stuff by yourselves.”

“Chivalry isn’t dead in Hudson, I see,” Rachel quipped, following the older man with her carry-on and a smaller suitcase.

“Thanks, Harry,” Lisa said after everything was sitting in the spacious foyer.

“Happy to do it, Lisa,” Harry said. “Welcome home.”

“Yeah... for however long that’s going to be,” Lisa sighed.

“It’s going to be hard seeing this place go,” Harry uttered with a wistful air. “Fairfield has been a big part of Hudson ever since you made it the success it’s become, Lisa. This town won’t be the same without it—or you.”

Not unkindly, Lisa asked: “Is this your way of trying to talk me out of selling?”

Harry shrugged. “Maybe. I know an old fella like me who’s on his way to retirement can’t interfere with the business decisions of his boss, but you know this place has always been more than just a ’job’ for me.”

“I know,” Lisa said warmly, reaching out to touch his arm in a show of understanding. “And I thank you for everything you’ve done from the day my father hired you to this present time.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, placing a hand over hers for a few moments. “I should be on my way. See you in the morning.”

“Of course.”

Harry turned to make his exit, but hesitated on the threshold. “There is something...”

Lisa waited expectantly. “What is it?” she asked when he did not continue.

“Hmmph. Nah, it can wait ‘til tomorrow,” he muttered. “Goodnight, ladies.”

“’Bye,” Rachel said, trying to suppress another yawn.

“Goodnight, Harry,” Lisa said, closing the door behind him, slightly perturbed by the man’s cryptic parting words. Whatever it was, she would learn of it the next day.

--

As cranky as Jack was at the notion of having the woolly creatures on his land, Georgie’s 4H Club project meant sheep at Heartland was good for something. At least the kid could learn about the rearing of an animal she could handle. Lambs weren’t liable to trample you, gore you, buck you off, or kick you in the head. It was decidedly not fun chasing down the specific lamb Georgie and Olivia wanted, especially since they could not agree on which one was the best one for their needs. Jack half-suspected they were changing their fickle minds on purpose, just for the spectacle of his sprawling about in the grass and weeds, grabbing at this lamb or that lamb.  

It should have been Tim’s job seeing after the sheep, but he picked that very week to head to Moose Jaw to visit with his son, Shane, so they could spend Thanksgiving together. Why was it his ex-son-in-law continued to be such an irritant and an imposition in his life? If not for Lou and Amy, the man would never again have darkened the door at Heartland.

After Georgie and Olivia finally settled on a lamb and Jack successfully secured it, he decided a little break was necessary. It was no use getting worked up over the flock again; also, the girls did not need his grumpy mood to ruin things for them. It was trial enough for Georgie to be partnered with Olivia, he knew, so he did his best to keep his cool while in their company.

Once inside the kitchen, he brewed a cup of tea and eased into a chair in the living room—the kitchen having been taken over by Peter and his laptop. The man really needed office space of some kind while he was here, Jack mused.

Why Tim felt the need to saddle his son-in-law with the nickname “The General” was beyond Jack, but then again, Tim knew exactly how to push other people’s buttons. The recent fiasco involving Tricia and her near-delinquent daughter, Jade, at the fishing cabin was a fine example of that.  

Jack sipped at his tea, trying to resolve in his mind yet again why Tim possessed such an unbridled sense of entitlement. He lacked what Jack’s grandmother would have called social graces. His unsolicited comments could be tactless. The frustrating thing was that such comments were often uncomfortable truths no one else wanted to face or accept.

When Tim had first asked how the Arizona trip had been, Jack recalled initially telling him to mind his own business. Tim, ignoring Jack’s desire for privacy had asked, point-blank:

“You missed Lisa, didn’t you?”

”Didn’t I tell you to mind your own business?!” Jack had retorted. “I had a swell time.”

”You’re not fooling me, old man. What did you do with yourself down there the whole time? You couldn’t have been having that much of a ‘swell time’ because you cut it short and came home a week early!”

“I did happen to have some good times, thank you very much!”

“Yeah? Doing what?” Tim had challenged.

“Saddleback trip. Lookin’ at real estate. Meeting nice people. Camping and fishing.”

“Meeting nice people and fishing, eh? Catch anything good down there in Arizona?” Tim asked suggestively.

“As a matter of fact, yes. I hooked a very nice catfish.”

“Oooh! A catfish!” Tim had crooned, pretending to be impressed. “How big was it?”

Knowing he would not be able to lie any further, Jack had groaned in annoyance and decided it was time to cease this line of questioning. “Dunno,” he had sullenly replied. “It pulled free from the hook before I could reel it in. The sun was going down by then. I quit trying after that.”

“Ha!” Tim had laughed triumphantly. “Dinner out of a can that night, right?”

Jack grit his teeth. “No, I forgot to bring a can opener. Are you done, now?”

“You ‘forgot’ to bring a can opener?” Tim crowed in derision. “So why didn’t you just use your knife to open the can, or did you forget to bring a knife, too?”

“Oh, would you just shut up already!”

Jack stalked off and was thus out of earshot when a gleeful, self-righteous Tim muttered, “Ohhh, he totally missed Lisa.”

--

It was already after 10:00 a.m. when Lisa awoke on Saturday morning. The inevitable jet-lag felt especially pronounced this time around, and she groaned when she realised the lateness of the hour. She so wanted to soak up a few more hours of sleep, but knew work was waiting. There was the matter Harry mentioned the night before which she wanted to get to the bottom of, but the first order of business absolutely had to be contacting the real estate agent.

After a quick shower, she shared a hurried breakfast with Rachel. Her sister was still drowsy and not much in the mood to talk while they ate. When Rachel drifted back to bed for a nap, Lisa finally got on the phone to the realtor, glad they were indeed open that day despite it being a holiday long weekend. After all those months in France of dithering on this, it felt almost anti-climactic the sale would finally be happening. The deed is done, Lisa thought after hanging up. She was not sure what emotions she was experiencing now that Fairfield would officially be on the market.

Ruefully, she thought, I really should call Dan and tell him the ‘good’ news. In all truth, her ex-husband was the last person she wanted to speak to after all their less-than-pleasant email correspondences over the past several months. I wonder what Jack would think if I called him and told him I was back in Hudson? Lisa stopped herself cold. Where did that thought come from?! I would have to explain to him that I’m finally selling the old place and moving to France for good, wouldn’t I? I’d have to come up with some excuse as to why I didn’t even tell him I was coming back.

She stood from behind her desk and decided it was time to check in on Harry, brushing aside any further thoughts of both of her exes.

“Ah, Lisa! Good morning,” Harry greeted Lisa brightly when she knocked on the business office door.

“Good morning, Harry. I just got off the phone with the real estate people. Someone’s going to be by later this week to properly assess the property and get some signs posted and such.”

“Of course,” he said with a nod of understanding.

“Harry, about that thing you mentioned last night...”

“Oh, yes. That,” Harry said, lowering his voice.

Lisa caught his tone, and interpreted he was about to tell her something she would not particularly enjoy hearing. “Well, what is it?”

“It’s Dan,” Harry said in a manner that spoke volumes of disapproval.

“Dan? What’s he done now?” Lisa asked guardedly.

“You’d better follow me,” Harry said, rising from his seat.

He led Lisa out to the stables where they stopped in front of Fairfield Flyer’s stall. The champion racer seemed strong and healthy, and Lisa looked at her head groomsman, awaiting an explanation.

“Dan and some of his people and vets have been here to see Flyer and Rhapsody quite a few times while you were gone,” Harry started. “Since you have joint ownership, of course I couldn’t stop him.”

“Stop him from doing what?” Lisa asked, instantly on edge. Rhapsody was one of her broodmares.

“From getting all kinds of lab work done—and cell samples taken from Flyer.”

“Cell samples...” Lisa mused out loud.

Harry continued. “Rhapsody is already nine months pregnant. You had no idea, did you?” he asked warily as he studied her reaction. “Don’t answer that. Your expression tells me all I need to know.”

Lisa felt her cheeks flush. “I always did have a lousy poker face,” she grumbled.

“Ah, I should have known he didn’t tell you, but you know I’m not the type to interfere,” a contrite Harry said. “And given the nature of what he was doing, I wasn’t sure if you were both keeping it a secret, or what. Sorry, Lisa.”

“Don’t apologize; this isn’t remotely your fault. It seems I have a call to make to my ‘business partner’. Thanks, Harry.”

She strode out of the stables, absolutely steaming, trying to decide how best to have this conversation with Dan. Cell samples? That could only mean one thing, Lisa concluded, coupled with Dan’s recent talk about getting into horse cloning. He was trying to warm me up to the idea, she now realised.

“Where do you get off cloning Fairfield Flyer without even consulting with me first?!” Lisa exploded when she had Dan on the line.

“Now hold on just a minute, Lisa—” Dan tried to interrupt.

“No, you hold on; I’m not finished,” Lisa hissed through clenched teeth. “Harry told me you’ve been out to Fairfield to see Flyer and Rhapsody. This is the real reason you’ve been so demanding about the finances, isn’t it? You weren’t concerned about the Avignon facility—you were paying to have Flyer cloned. How many other horses did you have lined up for the procedure?”

From Dan’s silence, Lisa knew she had hit the nail on the head.

“When were you going to tell me?” Lisa fumed. “When were you going to tell me the Avignon deal was all a sham and that you were really using my investment funds to clone Flyer and God knows how many others?”

“Okay, simmer down,” Dan said, trying to placate her. “Avignon is still a go. But the focus has shifted slightly. It could be the best equine cloning facility in Europe, Lisa. If the clone of Flyer is a success, we’re going to take it to Avignon as the poster boy for the procedure in race horses. We’d be one of the first out of the gate doing this. We could make history, Lisa, because the Racing Association is bound to come around once more people get on board.”

“Have you lost your mind?” Lisa had to keep herself from shouting. “You go behind my back, and-and then try to tell me you’re shifting the focus of the breeding facility we planned in France?”

“All that stuff you learned in that Lexington conference about performance markers is great, Lisa,” Dan said, “but that’s yesterday’s science. Cloning is the future. Do you really want to be left behind?”

Lisa realised she was still too angry to have a rational talk with Dan. “Let’s table that question,” she finally said. “I just got into Hudson late last night, and I’m too tired to deal with this right now. But make no mistake, Dan, I’m not impressed you went behind my back.”

“Fair enough, fair enough,” Dan said, sounding almost relieved. “Hang on, did you just say you’re back in Hudson?”

Lisa clenched her teeth in irritation. “How else do you think I found out about Flyer?”

“Uhhh—Harry told you, didn’t he?”

“Of course Harry told me,” snapped Lisa, relishing the discomfort she heard in Dan’s voice. He sounded as if he were a guilty schoolboy.

“I see,” Dan said in resignation. “Wait, if you’re in Hudson, does that mean you’ve finally put Fairfield on the market?”

“Yes, Dan, you’ll be happy to know I took care of that chore before calling you,” Lisa replied testily.

“Good! That’s great!” Dan exclaimed. “Finally. Look, Lisa, I get you’re upset about the cloning thing. You’re right; I should have included you in that decision. But Flyer is mine, too. I think in time, you’ll see—”

“Ah, but Rhapsody is mine,” Lisa cut in. “You’re still on shaky ground, Dan. As I said just now, we’ll discuss this later. You’ll be lucky if I don’t decide to involve my lawyer with this one.”

She heard his exhalation of discontent, but she frankly did not care. Misappropriation of funds, she thought. Yeah, that has a nice ring to it.

“Come on, Lisa. Are you really going to split hairs like that?” he whined. “Aren’t we business partners in this whole breeding venture?”

It took all the control she could muster not to slam down the phone. Instead, she took a steadying breath before responding. “That didn’t give you the right to use Rhapsody for your cloning experiment without consulting with me first. But what’s done is done. Like I said, I’m not in the mood to discuss this right now. Goodbye.”

Lisa did not wait to hear Dan respond before she hung up the call.

Rachel, having awakened from her nap, was sitting at the breakfast nook in the kitchen, flipping through an old edition of the Hudson Times. When Lisa wandered in, Rachel glanced up and said, “Uh-oh. I know that look. Something’s got you mad.”

Lisa groaned. “Ugh. What tipped you off?”

Rachel smirked. “Yeah, see, there’s this vein that always pops out on your forehead whenever you blow a gasket,” she answered, motioning to her own head.

Grumbling, Lisa swiped a self-conscious hand over her face.

“Hey, it’s not like you get mad often, sis,” Rachel said, trying to lighten the mood. “It must be something big.”

Lisa plopped down wearily across from Rachel. “It’s Dan,” she began. “He’s gone and tried to clone one of my best racers—Fairfield Flyer—without even asking me, first.”

“Oh, wow. Is that even legal?” Rachel asked, folding the paper and putting it aside. “I’m not up on my horse cloning ethics.”

“It is legal,” Lisa said, “but it’s damned expensive, comes with a pile of risk factors, and the Racing Association has yet to accept clones in sanctioned races.”

“Didn’t I read something a couple years ago about clones being accepted for show jumping in the Olympics?” asked Rachel.

Lisa nodded. “Yes. The Fédération Equestre Internationale did announce clones could be entered for equestrian events. I still don’t know what Dan was thinking, though. Flyer is a racer, not a jumper, or dressage. It’s infuriating. And it’s not even about the ethics when it comes to cloning; it’s that Dan was hounding me for months to get Fairfield sold so we could get going on an operation out of Avignon.”

“Avignon?” repeated Rachel.

“Yes. You know I always wanted to retire to France, eventually.”

“Right...”

“Anyway,” Lisa continued, “I sold my share of the Dude Ranch back to Lou, and assumed those funds were going towards funding that Avignon operation. Obviously, Dan was funnelling all of it to help make the payments for the cloning procedure.” She let out another huff of frustration; Rachel eyed her with pity.

“C’mon, Lisa,” Rachel said after several moments of silence. “In the end, a horse is a horse, and we both know you love horses. When Rhapsody foals, you’re going to love that clone. So forget Dan, and focus on making sure Rhapsody stays healthy through the rest of the pregnancy.”

The words were like a thunderbolt, bringing a much-needed dose of reality. Lisa stared at Rachel for a few moments, speechless. “Are you sure you’re the younger sister, here?” she eventually asked with an affectionate smile and shake of her head. “When did you get to be so wise?”

“Oh, I have my moments,” Rachel answered airily.

“Well, I hope there’s more wisdom where that came from,” Lisa said, “because even though you’re right about loving it when it arrives, I get the feeling that clone is going to become more like a monkey on my back.”

--

Thanksgiving at Heartland was slightly less crowded than usual owing to the absences of Tim and Lou. Everyone was thankful for Jack’s surviving the heart attack and for Amy’s health and recovery after her recent scare with Zeus; Georgie was thankful in particular for her new family and for Phoenix.

At Fairfield, the celebration was slightly more subdued. Figuring this to be their final Thanksgiving together before the family farm passed into new hands, the Stillman sisters spent much of that holiday Monday* reminiscing about older, happier times, and some not-so-happy times, too.

“I used to love it when Aunt Evelyn would come to visit from wherever she had last been,” Lisa remarked as they sat together in the cozy living room, a roaring fire burning in the hearth.

“Remember her second husband?” Rachel snickered.

“Ah, yes. Uncle Merrill,” Lisa said. “With those massive sideburns we always wished he would shave off.”

“Where did she meet him, again?”

“Wales, I think,” Lisa replied. “But he was from Scotland.”

“He claimed he was some Scottish lord, right?” asked Rachel. “I seem to remember that.”

Lisa nodded seriously. “He apparently had the bank account to prove it, or so Aunt Evelyn told me.”

“Well, she was married to him the longest,” Rachel said.

“That’s true,” Lisa said, taking a sip of cider.

“Until he left her for a newer, younger model,” Rachel said.

“And she took him to the cleaners,” chortled Lisa. “Then promptly found herself another millionaire boyfriend.”

“That one didn’t last very long, did it?”

“Oh, a couple years, maybe? Then she had a few other gentlemen friends whose names I forget. Then she married Charles, the wealthy stockbroker from New York. They met on a cruise ship. Divorced him after five years.”

“Aunt Evelyn is addicted to men and to money,” Rachel said. “And I mean that in the nicest possible way.”

“Rachel, there is no nice way to call someone a gold digger,” Lisa said, a peal of laughter breaking forth.

“Ha! You said it; not me!”

“All right, Aunt Evelyn may have her... flaws... but she’s always been good to us,” Lisa said sincerely.

“Yeah... you’re right,” Rachel said. “Though you’re her favourite, you know.”

Lisa cocked her head and frowned at her sister, puzzled by this comment. “Naw. She totally spoiled us both. What d’you mean by that?”

“Oh, nothing.” Rachel waved a hand dismissively. “I just got the feeling like she doted on you a little more. That’s all.”

“What? Why?”

Rachel stared at her older sister, considering for a few moments how to proceed. She blew out a breath and said, “Okay, remember that horse you had when we were kids? Silver?”

“Yes,” Lisa said, thinking of the dapple grey mare she got as a rescue. She put aside her mug, sensing Rachel was about to say something she had been wanting to say for a long time, but never had the chance to get it off her chest.

“I remember when Silver got sick a few years later,” Rachel said. “Dad didn’t think he could afford to pay for the surgery.”

“That’s right,” Lisa confirmed. “It was colic. Silver was getting old by that point, so Dad didn’t think the risk was worth it.”

“You know, I didn’t even have my own horse at the time, and Aunt Evelyn swooped in and said she’d pay for the surgery,” Rachel said, voice tainted with the slightest stain of bitterness. “You were seven when you got Silver. I remember, because I thought somehow that’s what I would get when I turned seven, too. Funny, isn’t it? We lived on a horse-breeding farm, and I didn’t get my own horse until I was ten.”

“Rachel, it’s a stupid question... did you even really want your own horse?” Lisa asked carefully.

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Of course I wanted my own horse,” she said. “What little girl living in Hudson didn’t ‘want’ her own horse?”

“I know, but ‘wanting’ a horse isn’t the same as loving that horse when you finally get it, is it?”

Lisa thought back to when Rachel did receive her own horse the Christmas after she turned ten, a gift from Evelyn. In the beginning, the girl had been ecstatic, but the excitement had waned, and the horse was sometimes neglected.

“No, it isn’t the same thing,” admitted Rachel. “Look, I don’t mean to sound petty. At the time, I was jealous; I admit it. When I was younger, I thought Aunt Evelyn paying for Silver’s surgery when I didn’t even have my own horse meant she loved you more and was ignoring me.”

“I’m sorry, Rach,” Lisa said sincerely. “I had no idea you felt that way.”

“Like I said, I felt that way when I was younger. I thought having a horse would make me happy the way it seemed to make you happy; like it made other girls around town happy,” Rachel said. “It wasn’t until later I realised I wasn’t actually a horse-crazy girl like everyone else.”

“No, you were more boy-crazy,” Lisa said, a small smile twitching her lips.

“Ohhh, was I ever,” Rachel said, throwing back her head and casting her eyes to the ceiling.

“Do you ever regret leaving home when you did?” Lisa queried. “I mean, do you ever wish you had waited until you were a little more settled? Aunt Evelyn was willing to pay for your post-secondary education anywhere in the world like she did for me, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. And I keep saying that the timing was probably wrong,” Rachel said. “But I always come back to Ben. He’s the reason I don’t have regrets about that. I love my son more than my own life, Lisa. If I do regret anything is that his childhood probably wasn’t as happy as it could have been because of my stupid relationship mistakes.”

“Well, from what I can see, he’s grown into a fine young man, Rachel,” Lisa said, thinking of the rough patch Ben went through during Rachel’s train wreck of a divorce. “He’s learned some valuable life lessons and he’s working hard now to achieve his goals.”

“I admit I’m proud of him,” Rachel said with a smile. “I’m sorry again for dumping him on you—”

“Oh, stop!” Lisa put up a hand. “We’ve been over this a hundred times. Even though I could have done a better job when he was here, it made me realise raising a child isn’t a cakewalk.”

“No, but it is worth it,” Rachel said. “I look at Ben, and I think at least I did something right in the world.”

“Yeah...” Lisa said softly.

“He did appreciate his time here, Lisa,” Rachel said, getting an inkling of where Lisa’s thoughts might have carried her at that moment.

“I hope so,” Lisa uttered. “Though somehow, I think I acted a little more like Aunt Evelyn: dropping expensive gifts instead of making any meaningful impact on his life that would actually matter.”

“I don’t see it that way at all,” Rachel countered. “You give from the heart, Lisa. You’ve always been the generous type. And with Fairfield’s success came bigger ways to show that generosity. To be honest, I was a bit jealous of your giving nature, too.”

“And if I’m going to be honest, I was a bit jealous of you,” Lisa said seriously.

“Of me?” Rachel said, clearly shocked. “Whatever for?”

“You left home. Had a child. You... didn’t have the weight of responsibility for Fairfield that I had,” Lisa admitted. “I have loved building up the business into the success it is today, but I also thought kids would naturally come along when I was married to Dan. When that didn’t happen, I thought about you and how easy it seemed for you.”

“It wasn’t easy at all, especially when Gary walked out on us,” stated Rachel emphatically. “And I thought I’d have more kids too, when the ex-who-shall-not-be-named came into the picture and seemed like he’d be a great step-father to Ben. We all know how that turned out.”

Lisa bobbed her head slowly, knowing no further words were needed on the subject of the breakup of Rachel’s marriage.

At length, Rachel murmured: “I’m glad I came out here one last time. There was a time I couldn’t wait to leave; relieved you were the older daughter that Dad would look to for running the business. I don’t think I’ve ever truly appreciated how much of a burden you’ve shouldered.”

“We’ve both had our burdens and hardships,” Lisa said, looking at the glowing embers in the fireplace.

“I mean it, Lisa,” Rachel insisted. “Thank you for being there for Dad, and for running Fairfield all these years. It’s just a shame he didn’t live long enough to see the success it’s become.”

“A success that’s now coming to a close,” Lisa said quietly. “When I pick up stakes and move to Avignon, it’s going to be a whole new business.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Rachel commented. “You haven’t heard from Jack. You said it yourself that it’s time to make a fresh start.”

“I know,” Lisa said. “And you’re right. But being here in Hudson, well, it’s brought back a lot of memories with him. Good memories. It hurts to finally realise that there won’t be any more of those.”

“Well, who knows? Maybe you’ll meet a fine French gentleman in Avignon,” Rachel said with a mirthful chuckle.

“Oh, no! The last thing I need is to turn into Aunt Evelyn,” Lisa scoffed, chagrined at her sister’s comment. Her thoughts suddenly took her to Toulon and the foul experience she had with Alphonse. It struck her his marriage to the young Audrey had come and gone that spring, and their baby was probably due any time. I sure dodged a bullet with that one, she decided, even if my “friends” thought we would make a good match.

“You could never be like Aunt Evelyn,” Rachel said. “You’re not a gold-digger, and the money you’ve made came through hard work. And the money doesn’t really matter to you, either, does it?”

“I won’t lie,” Lisa replied. “The money matters, because I got to do things and go places I always dreamed of doing and seeing when I was a kid. But what’s money if you don’t have people you love to share it with?”

Rachel looked at her sister with sympathy. “You really did love him, didn’t you?”

Lisa returned Rachel’s glance. “With every fiber of my being. My whole world stopped when Lou told me about his heart attack. Nothing mattered after nearly losing him like that. I just wish I had the chance to tell him so.”

“Look, it’s not my place to tell you what to do or what not to do, Lis,” Rachel said. “But you’re here in Hudson now, and he’s here. This could be your last chance to tell him.”

A slight shiver ran down Lisa’s spine at the notion of facing Jack and baring her heart as she had tried so many months ago, when she made the horrible mistake of renting the hospital bed for him. “I already squandered that ‘last chance’, Rach,” Lisa said sadly. “It’ll take a miracle to convince Jack to see me again. I blew it, and now I’m paying the price.”

--

Thanksgiving dishes were washed and put away; night checks on the horses were finished; everyone was tucked away in bed. Jack, however, lingered by himself in the living room before the fire, sipping on a hot toddy. There was indeed much to be thankful for, he knew, particularly when it came to his own life. There’s much to regret, too, he thought, watching as the flames licked at the seasoned logs. While life moved on, his heart still pined for her. He was still stuck in a place of uncertainty and inaction; of wanting to reach out and of pulling back again. It’s been ten months. Lisa has moved on, surely. It would be wrong of me to call her now, after all that’s gone on between us, and mess up whatever it is she has going. I should be thankful we had whatever it is we had and let her go. With that, Jack pulled himself up from the couch, doused the fire, and crept into his bedroom. As he closed his eyes, his last thought before falling asleep was that given his angry parting words with Lisa, spoken in the heat of the moment, he was undeserving of a second chance with her. Nothing will ever bring us back together; that’s a bridge too far.

--

*To my non-Canadian readers: Thanksgiving in Canada is celebrated on the 2nd Monday of October.

TBC

[anistarrose]

Fear The Reaper A Lot, Actually - Chapter 5

AO3

Summary: It’s time for the hunt to resume. Noelle makes a promise, Kravitz conducts an interview, Taako plans a séance, and Barry makes a friend.

Characters: Kravitz, Taako, Barry Bluejeans, Angus McDonald, Magnus Burnsides, Merle Highchurch, Noelle | No-3113, The Raven Queen, The Director | Lucretia, misc. BoB cameos, Julia Burnsides

Relationships: Taakitz, Angus McDonald & Taako, Barry Bluejeans & Kravitz, Kravitz & Angus McDonald

Sorry for the late update! I was sick on Tuesday and Wednesday, and then on Thursday I decided to focus entirely on losing my mind over the new TAZ episode, so that means it’s time for a rare Friday chapter. Lots of stuff is happening in this chapter, so hopefully it was worth the wait!

(Also, I normally don’t write the chapter titles on tumblr for this fic because it makes the title section of the post look cluttered, but this one is called “me and the boys at 2 am looking for jeans.” Just really wanted to make sure you were all aware of that fact.)

***

Long past the curfew established by the Reclaimers’ training routine, at the hour of night when the moonbase’s artificial lights dimmed and the bonfires on the planet below faded away, four pairs of eyes watched Avi from the shadows. A murmur of excitement escaped from behind one of the glass spheres when he yawned and checked his watch, followed by a chorus of disappointed sighs when he slapped himself across the face and set back to work unloading a new supply shipment, but he didn’t seem to notice them over the muffled roar of high-altitude winds.

Finally, a passenger sphere floated back into the port and the Bureau’s three top Regulators disembarked, back from a planetside drill that had run long. From her perch on Killian’s shoulder, Carey leaned down to affectionately slap Avi on the back, and he quickly accepted her invitation to join their gang for drinks at the Chug ‘N Squeeze. As Avi led the way out of the port, Carey and Killian hot on his heels while Noelle followed more distantly, there was much hushed rejoicing among their shadowy, impatient observers.

“Finally,” Taako huffed. “I was starting to think he was pulling an all-nighter.”

After checking one last time to make sure the coast was clear, Angus stepped out of his hiding place and reached for the door of the transport sphere, but Magnus grabbed ahold of him by the collar of his shirt.

“Sorry, little guy, but you’re staying behind this time.”

Angus opened his mouth to protest, then closed it again, at a loss for words for the first time since he’d started speaking in complete sentences at age fourteen months.

“It’s nothing personal, Agnes — we just need someone to stay behind and distract Avi if he comes back before we do,” Taako explained. “And no one can resist all your nosy questions once you get going, so you’re the perfect accomplice!”

“I can think of a few people who can resist it,” Merle scoffed. “Number one, me.”

Magnus ignored them both, kneeling down to look at Angus in the eyes. “Ango, if I’m being honest… we had some close calls last time, and that was in a cave where we honestly weren’t expecting to find anything besides a clue or two if we were lucky. Tonight, we’re going to try and get a lich’s attention, so this morning, we all sat down and talked about it and agreed we’ll feel better if you’re safe up here.”

Taako sighed. “Gee, way to let the kid know we actually care about him. Now his ego’s gonna grow until it’s bigger than mine, and then where will I be?”

“It’s okay, sir. I’m sure you and Merle will still find ways to keep me humble.” Angus managed a smile.

“Stay safe, all right?”

“That’s the spirit!” Merle laughed, as Magnus picked him up and placed him inside the sphere. “Now hurry up and set the trajectory, Taako. Barry Bluejeans isn’t gonna arrest himself —”

“Please, hang on just a second!”

Four heads whirled around to face the port’s exit hallway, where Noelle was floating.

“It’s just me, don’t worry!” she assured them, noticing Magnus and Angus’s guilty expressions and Merle and Taako’s panicked ones. “I won’t let the Director hear a peep of this, I promise — but if you’re going after Mr. Bluejeans, I’d like to come with you. If you’ve got room in that sphere, of course.”

“Well, the scale of this lich hunting team is rapidly veering past ‘secret club’ and careening into ‘elaborate conspiracy,’ but… I guess this whole bargain is about your life too, isn’t it?” Magnus thought out loud. “Taako, Merle, are you guys alright with this?”

“A ghost would know where to find another ghost better than any of us would, right?” Merle asked, and Taako shrugged.

“Then welcome to the lich-hunting conspiracy, Noelle,” Magnus declared.

On her way to the sphere, Noelle patted Angus on the head, surprisingly gentle despite her heavy robot arms. “Sorry, pal. I didn’t mean to replace you.”

“It’s okay, ma’am,” Angus told her. “I know you’re better in fights than I am, so… just be sure to keep them safe, okay? And if you get a chance, could you ask Barry if our theory about the Voidfish was right?”

Noelle’s face display flickered, somehow expressing a determined smile with just a few dozen lit-up pixels. “I’ll do my best, I promise.”

***

There were many reasons for a soul not to join the others in the Astral Sea, but most often, it was because they were waiting for someone. Luckily, the person Kravitz wished to speak with was one such soul, so he was able to find her in only a matter of minutes.

There was only one island in the Astral Sea with a cottage on it, after all.

Though expertly constructed, it was clearly unfinished, lacking a door, roof, or windows — so Kravitz knocked on the cedar doorframe, and waited outside for the house’s occupant to respond. Just seconds later, a tall woman with a bandana tied around her hair met him at the doorway, smiling sadly and shaking her head as she laid eyes on Kravitz.

“Oh. You’re the emissary of the Raven Queen. I’m sorry, I — I wasn’t sure if I was hoping or fearing that you were someone else.”

“I understand.” Kravitz said softly. “You’re Julia Waxmen-Burnsides, right?”

“That’s right.” Julia offered him a calloused hand. “Nice to meet — er, formally meet you, Death.”

“Death is my mother. Call me Kravitz,” Kravitz replied as he accepted the handshake, and Julia chuckled.

“Okay, Kravitz. What brings you over to my humble island?”

***

“Well, this spot should be as good as any,” Taako announced, kicking a pebble across the black glass circle that once was Phandalin. “Magnus, did you bring the sacrificial denim?”

“Sure did!” Magnus held up a pair of freshly purchased jeans. “Also some candles, and an ouija board that Carey helped me steal from Leon the other day as part my rogue lessons.”

“Tell Carey that gaslighting Leon is my job, and she needs to quit infringing on my brand.” Taako pulled a piece of chalk from his pocket, tried and failed to draw a circle on the glass, then conjured a paintbrush instead and started painting a pentagram.

Meanwhile, Noelle drifted around haphazardly, the lights on her face growing dim. “It’s… it’s so empty here. I was bracing myself for ruins, for bodies… but there’s just nothin’ left. I can’t even remember where the bar was, or the hotel, or the stables…”

Merle looked away. “Sorry we dropped the ball on this one, Noelle…”

“S’alright. You made up for it in the lab last week, with the savin’ the world and negotiating for my soul an’ all.”

“Well, don’t get too comfortable in your robot body, ‘cause we might not have much time left in the living world if Barry doesn’t show tonight.” Taako placed the jeans in the center of the pentagram, then lit them on fire. “But I think this’ll get his attention. Everyone, come join hands!”

Magnus kneeled and took Taako and Noelle’s hands, while Merle stood up on his tiptoes to do the same.

“You’ve done this before, right?” Merle whispered.

“Plenty of times.” Taako summoned a Mage Hand and adjusted his scarf to cover his nose and mouth, as the fire in the center of their circle intensified. “Noelle? Would you do the honor of reaching out for us?”

“Uh, I’ve never been to a séance quite like this one. Maybe you’d be the better one to —”

“Barry, you asshole! Too much of a coward to show your face!” Merle shouted. “Heard about how I banished Legion and got the heebie-jeebies, didja?”

The ruins of Phandalin fell eerily silent, aside from the quiet crackling of the fire.

“Sorry. Still not detecting any liches,” Noelle reported.

“Well, being a dick didn’t work,” Merle muttered. “Shoulda brought some booze and thrown a party — maybe that would get his lazy ass’s attention.”

“I’m pretty sure liches can’t drink, Merle,” Noelle told him. “And honestly, now that I’m thinkin’ about it, I can’t imagine why Barry would be obligated to haunt this here town just ‘cause it’s where he died. Are y’all sure this is the best place to look for him?”

“Positive,” said Taako, but Magnus spoke over him.

“Maybe we should widen our search area. Quick, what other places would be significant to Barry?”

“How ‘bout the cave where he got his ass kicked?” Merle suggested. “You know, the place where we met G’larg or whatever his name was.”

Magnus let go of Taako and Noelle’s hands to fan the air in front of him. “Well, a hike sure sounds better than standing around inhaling denim fumes, I’ll give you that.”

Taako extinguished the blaze then cast Phantom Steed, and Garyl manifested atop the embers of the fire, rearing into a majestic pose. “Hiking’s for chumps. Garyl and I will race you there!”

***

Julia led Kravitz inside the cottage, which smelled pleasantly of cedar and lavender, and motioned for him to sit down in one of two rocking chairs. She sat in the other, crossing her legs and absentmindedly rocking back and forth.

“So, Maggie went and got on the Raven Queen’s bad side, did he?”

“Not permanently, I’m hoping,” Kravitz replied. “I don’t know him as well as you, but he and his fellow death criminal associates don’t strike me as anything like the usual bounties I hunt. I was hoping you could testify on his moral character, and maybe also shed some light on how he cheated death, because he sure doesn’t seem to know.”

“Well, he���s survived some close battles — but I assume you’re looking for necromancy, not near-death experiences.” Julia drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair. “And I know Magnus is no necromancer.”

“I figured as much. Did he know any necromancers, though?”

Julia shook her head. “No. He’ll stand up to any authority figure if he believes they’re abusing their power, but that’s not because he just walks around looking for rules to break — it’s ‘cause he can’t stand injustice. He’s a good man, and I can’t imagine him throwing his lot in with a lich or someone like that to flaunt the laws of life and death…”

Her voice trailed off. “Do you know how long ago these so-called crimes happened?” she asked.

“They all registered in our system at once, about twelve years ago. Needless to say, I’m assuming he didn’t die 19 distinct times within minutes of each other, so there must’ve been some warding that was previously hiding him from our detection. We’ve seen that kind of thing before, although never quite to the same extent.”

“Twelve years ago was before I knew him,” Julia admitted. “I’m not sure I even know where he was living or what he was doing twelve years ago.”

“Forgive me changing the topic, but are his parents still alive? Or any siblings, aunts, uncles?”

“He was an only child, and his parents passed away before I knew him — I think he was an adult at the time, but barely, so… that would’ve been thirteen, fourteen years ago, maybe? He never told me how they died and I never pressed him, so — wait a second, you’re the Grim Reaper. Shouldn’t you know exactly who’s dead and who isn’t?”

“I really should,” Kravitz agreed, “and that’s the problem, actually. I can’t find any relatives of Magnus in the registry of deceased souls — no parents, no grandparents, no cousins…”

“You only found people who were Magnus’s family by marriage,” Julia realized out loud. “That’s why you came to talk to me.”

Kravitz nodded. “Exactly — but it gets even weirder. Magnus’s fellow adventuring buddies and apparent death criminals are an elf named Taako and a dwarf named Merle, whom I don’t suppose you know —”

Julia gasped, not in recognition, but in dawning realization. “Don’t tell me you can’t find their families, either.”

“All I found for Merle were some fourth cousins, and equally distant relatives. I couldn’t find anything about Taako.”

“The plot sure has thickened, huh?” Julia muttered. “You’re right that I don’t know Merle or Taako, they must’ve been… you know, after my time. But I can swear to you, if this is some kind of — some kind of necromantic conspiracy, then Magnus is the victim, not the one behind it. He could not and would not plan something like this for years while keeping it a secret all this time. He wouldn’t have hid it from me or from Steven —”

“I believe you,” Kravitz told her, “and I believe Magnus, when he says he genuinely doesn’t know how he died nineteen times. But because I believe you, and because I think you’re right on the mark with regards to a necromantic conspiracy, I have one last question: have you ever heard the names Lup or Barry Bluejeans?”

Julia snorted quietly at the latter name, but shook her head. “No. Are they… necromantic conspiracy suspects?”

“You could say that. More specifically, they’re liches whom we first detected around the same time as Magnus. At the time, I assumed it was a coincidence, but now… well, there a few different first impressions of Magnus and his adventuring buddies that I’m reevaluating.”

“Tell me about it. That man contains multitudes.” Julia leaned back in her rocking chair. “If there’s anything else I can do to help exonerate Maggie — any questions or testimony you need — I’m sure you’ll be able to find me here for a long, long time, but… can I ask something of you, if it’s alright?”

“Depends. What is it?”

“Can you help me send a letter?”

***

For the first few hundred feet of the race, Noelle kept up with Taako via her rocket boosters, but then opted to save her fuel, and Garyl surged ahead towards the mountains.

“Eat my dust!” Garyl whinnied. “I’m gonna find those oatssss!”

“Liches, Garyl. We’re looking for liches,” Taako reminded him.

“Yeah, but liches always have some loose spectral oats in their robe pockets!” Garyl scaled the foothills with ease, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake. “Sometimes they even give me spectral sugar cubes! Why dontcha ever hang out with liches anymore?”

Taako yanked on the reins. “Excuse me?”

“You haven’t given me sugar cubes in decades,” Garyl moaned as they came to a halt. “Or even spectral carrots.”

Taako dismounted, turning away from the face of the mountain to look at Garyl in his iridescent rainbow eyes. “You gonna elaborate ‘bout me allegedly hanging out with liches, pal?”

“What is there to elaborate about? You used to hang with liches, and then you just —” Suddenly, Garyl’s eyes went wide. “Look out! Above you!”

Taako dismissed Garyl with a wave of his hand, and the binicorn disappeared in a flash of rainbow smoke. “Yeah, no, I’m not buying that. You’re just pulling my leg again —”

He turned around slowly and casually, not expecting to see anything out of the ordinary — only to find himself facing a crumbling mountainside, dozens of massive boulders already rolling on a trajectory straight towards him.

He instinctively raised his Umbra Staff, only to freeze up, no idea what spell he could cast in time to save himself — but then something in his peripheral vision flashed red, and not a full second later, he was standing atop a distant hill, a hundred meters away from the site of the rockslide.

“Are you okay?” a voice behind him rasped. “I didn’t mean to startle you — I know you probably had it under control, but I — I just panicked. Sorry.”

Taako turned around to face a familiar red-robed specter, two vaguely eye-shaped lights under his hood looking Taako over.

“You know, I was actually pretty un-startled until you popped up behind me and started rasping in my ear! Let an elf have his personal space, Barold!”

“What?” The lights beneath Barry’s hood froze in place, as did every thread of his robe, paralyzed in spite of the gentle breeze. The rasp in his voice dissipated as he went on: “Taako, how much do you remember?!”

Taako blinked. “Remember?”

“Talk to me, Taako! Please!” Barry grabbed Taako by the shoulders, incorporeal hands trembling. “Do you remember your sister? Do you remember Lup?”

“Ugh, that sound! Why do you have to do that right in my face?” Taako shrugged off Barry’s barely-tangible grip, clapping his hands over his ears.

“You heard static?” Barry gasped. “Oh, no. No. I thought —”

“You bet I just heard the worst five seconds of ASMR ever! What do you want from me, man? All I know about Lup is that she’s a lich like you, ‘cause that’s all Kravitz could tell me —”

“Kravitz told you about us?!”

“Yeah, he did! Told me you two were his most elusive bounties, and that I could never let my guard down around you!” Taako reached into the quiver slung over his shoulder, pulling out a sapphire arrow. “And I think it’s about time I gave him a heads up that you’re hanging out right here, soul ready for reaping —”

“Do NOT summon Kravitz!” Just seconds before Taako plunged the arrow into the ground, Barry tore it out of his hand and hurled it through a rift. “Why the fuck would you summon Kravitz?!”

Taako’s grip tightened on his Umbra Staff, and Barry recoiled. The lights under his hood looked like they were melting, shedding glowing droplets that cascaded down some semblance of a face within the void.

“Taako, please,” Barry pleaded. “I’m not your enemy, and — and Lup isn’t either, I swear! She wouldn’t want this!”

Taako raised the Umbra Staff to cast, but no spell fired from the umbrella as it shuddered in his hand.

“You can’t listen to what Kravitz tells you — he doesn’t know why we became liches! He doesn’t know about the Hunger!” Barry’s robe was fraying before Taako’s eyes, crimson threads unraveling at the edges of his sleeves. “What if — what if he thinks you’ve cheated death? What if he sends you to the Eternal Stockade?! Taako, I’m begging you, I — I — I don’t know what I would do if I lost you too!”

Taako cast again, and the Umbra Staff still refused to fire, the beginnings of a spell entering his arcane focus on one end but never leaving it on the other. As Barry drifted closer, sparks jumping between stray red threads and face a mess of swirling light and shadow, Taako turned to his last resort — stalling for time.

“You know, Kravitz was thinking real hard about sending me to ghost jail the other day, but I convinced him not to. Don’t you want to hear my side of the story?”

Barry froze, the unraveling of his robe momentarily halted. “In the Miller lab? What happened?!”

“We made a deal. He was going to arrest me, Magnus, Merle, Lucas, and Noelle — but I got an idea he liked better. I asked if he’d let us go free if we captured another bounty or two for him — so he gave us two months to capture you and Lup.” Taako shrugged, so focused on trying not to panic that he hardly noticed the sound of electricity crackling and fabric tearing. “So if you just turn yourself in, then at least you’ll only have to worry about me half as much.”

Barry convulsed as a jagged gash tore through his robe from shoulder to waist, an intangible darkness spilling out from within him and pooling on the ground below.

“LUP!” he shouted, voice echoing between mountains and through underground lairs for miles and miles. “They — they signed their own death warrant, Lup! I — I can’t do this without them, I can’t do this without you — where ARE YOU?!”

“Taako! There you are!”

Magnus sprinted onto the scene, Merle and Noelle hot on his heels. He thrust himself between Barry and Taako, then pulled a sapphire arrow from his own belt, jabbing it into the shadow-covered ground at Barry’s feet. “Kravitz, we’ve got a bounty for you!”

The lights beneath Barry’s hood coalesced back into two flickering eyes that immediately fixated on the arrow, which was already engulfed in a crackling blue aura.

“Boys, I promise I’m going to fix this,” he rasped, and then vanished into thin air.

“Wait, come back!” Merle called out, rushing towards the spot where Barry had been floating. “I didn’t even get a chance to talk to you —”

Taako yelped as his Umbra Staff inverted, and the arrow flew through the air towards its maw — but milliseconds before the umbrella snapped shut around it, Kravitz manifested in a puff of smoke, already dual-wielding sapphire scythes.

“Did you find Barry? Where is he?”

“He got away, I think,” Magnus sighed. “I probably shouldn’t have summoned you where he could see, but I rushed in because I was so worried about him hurting Taako —”

Noelle floated around Taako in tight circles, scanning him from all angles. “It doesn’t look he hurt you, but… I’m getting some traces of conjuration magic? Did you have a wizard’s duel or something?”

“Oh, god no. I probably wouldn’t be alive if we had,” Taako admitted. His heart was still pounding, but he tried not to let it show. “Conjuration magic, though… let’s see. That would probably be from when he — when he teleported me away from the mountain, after those rocks started falling.”

“Those rocks?” Noelle gestured towards the massive pile of rubble at the foot of the nearest mountain. “Those look like they could’ve killed you!”

“I know, right?” Taako replied. “Very uncharacteristically benevolent of him to show up when he did.”

“As great as it is that you’re not dead, Taako, it was also very convenient of him to show up when he did,” Kravitz paced across the hilltop, scythes crossed in front of him like the world’s most dangerous dowsing rods. “I can’t sense his presence anymore, meaning he’s squirreled himself away in some sort of warded hideout… but if he appeared out in the open here only shortly after you did, then that hideout of his must be nearby.”

He turned away from Taako, facing the mountains. “Which means he’s still nearby.”

Taako felt his hand grow warm, and looked down to see his Umbra Staff, energized from the absorption of the arrow… and pointing directly at Kravitz’s back.

“Let’s search the area.” Kravitz continued. “Leave no stone unturned —”

Taako pointed the Umbra Staff towards the sky — not a moment too soon. A beam of white-hot plasma pierced the clouds above and bathed the entire mountain range in daylight for a fleeting moment, before it fizzled out with a crackle of electricity and a whiff of ozone.

Kravitz whirled around. “Taako?!”

“I didn’t cast that spell! I don’t know how to cast that kind of spell!” Taako gasped. “My umbrella’s been acting up all night, but I didn’t know it could act up like this!”

Kravitz sighed and placed a hand on Taako’s shoulder.

“You know, on second thought,” he said, “maybe we should postpone the lich hunting until you get that thing checked out.”

***

Merle made a beeline for his bed the second the gang returned to the moonbase, while Taako took it upon himself to relay the night’s events to Angus as a bedtime story, and hopefully ensure that the kid actually got some sleep. Noelle had opted to stay planetside for a little longer and fly back up to the moon on her own later, explaining that she needed some time alone to process what had happened in Phandalin, and that left Magnus and Kravitz alone in the common room between the Reclaimers’ individual dorms.

“There’s no way Angus will relax enough to fall asleep in the next week if he hears about what happened tonight,” Magnus sighed, collapsing onto the couch. “Either Taako lies and says nothing happened, or he uses a sleep spell on a ten year old. You wanna make a bet on which?”

“I’ll pass. But you just reminded me, I actually have something for you.” Kravitz rifled through the interior pockets of his vest, pulling out a piece of shimmering blue paper. Although folded over on itself several times, it still felt almost intangibly thin, like parchment woven from cobwebs or even air itself.

Magnus raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “That better not be magical junk mail.”

Kravitz smiled, slowly shaking his head. “I spoke with someone in the Astral Plane today who had a lot of good things to say about you,” he explained. “She’s waiting to see you again, but hopes that day won’t come too soon, and… well, I haven’t read her letter, but I’m sure it speaks for itself.”

Magnus accepted the paper gingerly, eyes tearing up as he unfolded it to reveal Julia’s handwriting.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Kravitz plucked a raven feather from his robe, transmuting it into a quill pen with a snap of his fingers before handing it to Magnus. “I don’t allow this kind of thing every day, so don’t go around telling too many people about it — but you can use this pen to write a response on the back. Fold it up again once you’re done, and it’ll make its way back to her.”

Magnus leapt up from the couch to crush Kravitz in a hug that would’ve knocked the air out of his lungs, had he still been alive and breathing.

“Thank you,” Magnus repeated. “Thank you —”

Taako barged into the room, Umbra Staff slung over his shoulder. “You wanna guess what ‘cha boi had to do to get the kid to go to sleep? I’ll give you a hint, it wasn’t — okay, what am I interrupting here?”

A joke no doubt on the tip of his tongue, he froze as he noticed the tears running down Magnus’s face. “You okay there?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” Magnus let go of Kravitz, wiping his eyes and picking up the pen and letter again. “I — I’ll be in my room. I need some time to… I just need some time.”

Taako nodded. “Don’t forget to get some sleep yourself. Apparently you humans need, like, eight hours of it, go figure.”

“He’ll be alright,” Kravitz whispered to Taako, as Magnus closed the door to his room. “He just got a letter from someone he hadn’t heard from in a while.”

“‘Course he’ll be alright. He’s Magnus, he’s indestructible,” Taako replied, but Kravitz could hear the relief in his voice. “And in case you were wondering, the way to get Angus to fall asleep is to read him a detective story, but only as a distraction while you’re preparing a Sleep spell.”

Kravitz chuckled. “You know, speaking of distracting — what’s with that flashing Chug ‘N Squeeze sign on the moon campus? I don’t think it was there when I visited you the other day.”

“Oh, that? I think it’s some kinda wine and pottery place — why, you wanna check it out? ‘Cause it’s supposed to open in a day or two, or so says all the hottest moon gossip.”

“Well, I mostly just asked out of morbid curiosity, but it does sound like something I could enjoy ironically — and maybe even unironically, as a break from all this lich hunting and detective work. Do you want to check it out with me?”

“Oh, a wine and clay vacation day with the Grim Reaper? That’s a hell yeah from Taako!”

***

The second Barry returned to his cave, he bolted straight for an unassuming chest beneath a pile of discarded scrolls and tattered jeans. Though it only occupied about two cubic feet, it was warded against everything from fire to water to acid, and sealed with an arcane lock — which Barry dismissed by uttering the passcode, emergency bonds.

From inside, he retrieved a handful of trinkets — a driftwood necklace from Merle, a wand that Magnus had once unsuccessfully tried to summon a dog familiar with, and most important of all, a dozen different wedding rings, all hewn from different materials and given in different ceremonies on entirely different worlds. Barry picked up the envelope beneath them and then gingerly placed them back in the chest, opening the envelope to look through the pictures it contained.

The shadowy essence of his lich form had stopped leaking out of his robe the second he’d opened the chest and been comforted with the wave of nostalgia, but he felt his soul stabilize even further as he pulled out the first picture. It was a candid shot of him, Lup, and Taako in the Starblaster’s lab, buried up to their elbows in notes as they studied the Light of Creation, which the camera had only been able to capture as a vague white blur. The three of them all had bags under their eyes, but they were still smiling. They’d been so determined to develop a new theory, to find the answers that would save them and their family.

And there was no reason for Barry to abandon that determination or give up on that goal now.

For the next four hours, he scrawled calculations on almost every blank scrap of paper he had at his disposal, comparing research he’s done half a century ago with papers he’d read on cycles even further back. He unfurled no less than five individual maps of Faerun, circling promising locations before changing his mind and scratching out all but a few that he’d personally visited in the past.

By the time his plan was complete, almost all of the rips in his robe had mended themselves — though he still looked unsettlingly threadbare, and he trembled slightly even while floating in one place.

How long did Taako say they have? Two months, as of the crystal incident? There’s no need to panic — I’ve got time. I just need to play this smart.

He extended his senses outside of his lair, scanning the surrounding area for Kravitz or another emissary of the Raven Queen — and there was indeed an undead presence lurking near Phandalin, but unlike Kravitz, it lacked even the faintest trace of celestial energy. Even stranger, its aura seemed shielded, but less so than a lich possessing a living body would’ve been… as if the soul was inhabiting an inorganic body, instead.

The robot no doubt sensed him approaching, but gave no sign of signalling for help, which made Barry feel much better about his decision to venture out of the safety of his cave.

“Mister Bluejeans? That you?” she asked, and the sound of her voice was all it took for Barry to connect a series of dots that couldn’t have been further from his mind just a few moments ago.

“I know you. You were in the Cosmoscope — and before that, you were in Phandalin. You were a halfling.”

“That’s right. I’m Noelle — Noelle Redcheeck. I’m surprised you remembered me.”

“I’m surprised you’re not furious with me,” Barry whispered. “I couldn’t save you, or anyone else in Phandalin — I’m so sorry, Noelle. Maybe, maybe, if I’d been in my lich form, I could’ve —”

“You tried your best,” Noelle assured him, “just like the Reclaimers. Really, the only person I should blame is whoever made that terrifying gauntlet in the first place —”

“No,” Barry interrupted. “I knew her, and I knew how implausible this will sound, but she didn’t want this. She tried her best to stop it, too.”

Noelle took a moment to reply. “It sounds like you know a lot of things that the Bureau doesn’t.”

Barry nodded. “Speaking of which… I really shouldn’t stay out here in one place for much longer, or someone will sense me, be it the Bureau or Kravitz. Do you mind if we take this conversation somewhere else?”

“Just lead the way.”

They headed not to Barry’s main hideout, but to a slightly nearer cave that he used mainly for storage but had placed equally powerful wards over. Abjuration had never been his specialty, but his ability to pick it up on the fly had been invaluable during his time as a rogue lich — and now, he thought, my abjuring might be the one thing that saves my family’s lives. Funny how that works out.

“So, Noelle,” he asked out loud, “I saw you with Magnus and Merle earlier. Do they know you’re still down here?”

“I told them I wanted to stick around Phandalin for a while and think about what happened,” Noelle explained. “Which, come to think of it, wasn’t a total lie — because I did want to talk to you about Phandalin, and I guess I got that chance after all. But I’m also here because I promised my detective friend that I’d ask you something.”

“Assuming your friend’s alive, then they probably won’t even be able to comprehend the whole answer — but fire away, and I’ll tell you what I can.”

“Did the Voidfish erase the fact that you were a lich?”

“Getting right to the root of the problem, huh?” Barry paused. “Hmm. Let me put it this way — the Voidfish erased all memories that could make me believe I was a lich. Whenever I’m alive, whenever I’m amnesiac, the idea that I could be a lich or even a necromancer just sounds like a joke. I’ve tried leaving messages to remind myself of that fact, after coming back to life — but my living self never believed it.”

“It sounded like a joke to Magnus and the others, too.”

Barry sighed. “That’s ‘cause they’ve lost a lot of memories of their own.”

“But… they’re innoculated. How is that possible?”

“Noelle, we’re well past the point where I need to warn you about keeping this conversation a secret from the Bureau, right? And… probably from your detective friend, too, assuming they work for the Director?”

“Yeah,” Noelle sighed. “Angus will be disappointed, but I understand.”

“There’s a second Voidfish,” Barry explained. “It’s very well guarded, and only the Director’s been innoculated by it — so she’s used it to erase all kinds of information, from the Reclaimers’ pasts to… a coming storm, which this world is unlikely to survive.”

“This storm… will it be worse than the Grand Relics? Worse than what happened to Phandalin?”

“It’ll be not just worse, but maybe even infinitely worse. Because it’ll go on to destroy worlds beyond this one, if we let it.”

Barry had forgotten what it felt like to speak so freely about his past and the Hunger, to speak without worrying that his words would be distorted by static, and more and more information just poured out, far more than he’d initially intended to share.

“There is an entity called the Hunger that seeks to consume all of existence, and it’s only a matter of months until it begins its assault on this planar system. The Director and the Reclaimers and I, we were all like family, and we worked together in search of a way to destroy this Hunger, but… we had some disagreements. And really, neither side was right, but Lucretia — Lucretia used the Voidfish to erase our whole mission, the Hunger included. I became a lich to protect my family from the Hunger, so… when I’m alive, I don’t have any memory of being undead. And my family doesn’t have any memories of me… aside from that time in Phandalin when I got Merle to stab himself with a fork, I guess, which probably didn’t leave a great impression.” He managed a bitter laugh.

“How long ago did they forget?”

“Almost ten years ago.”

“I’m so sorry.”

It dawned on Barry that he was having most sincere, two-sided conversation he’d experienced in a decade — and ironically, the realization left him at a loss for words.

The same couldn’t be said of Noelle, who continued on without hesitation. “I promised my friend Angus not just that I’d get answers, but also that I’d look out for the Reclaimers. I don’t want the Grim Reaper, or the apocalypse, or whatever’s coming to hurt them — or anyone else in this world, like Angus, or Carey and Killian, or my family in Hogsbottom — so please, Mister Bluejeans, tell me what I can do to help. I want to do something with this extra time the Reclaimers gave me.”

“If you get caught helping me,” Barry warned her, “you’ll be imprisoned one way or another — either on the moonbase, or in the Eternal Stockade, depending on who catches you.”

“Well first of all, it sounds like at the rate I’m going, I’m gonna end up either back in the Astral Plane, or consumed by this Hunger entity in a matter of months if I don’t do anything to help you,” Noelle replied. “And second of all, I’m not plannin’ to just give up and let them arrest me if I do get caught.” She cocked her arm cannon.

Maybe it was risky to accept help from someone he barely knew, but Noelle had seemed nothing but sincere — and Barry had spent so long working alone that frankly, he was amazed it hadn’t killed him yet. He was a creature of bonds and of love; he sought out companionship by both nature and necessity. He didn’t know if he could do this alone, but alongside another undead soul who could actually understand and help, he knew for a fact that he could.

“Welcome aboard, Noelle.” Barry chuckled. “First things first: I’ve tried to stay out of the Raven Queen and her servants’ ways, because they’re really not evil at all, but if there’s any chance of stopping the Hunger, then we’ll need Taako and the others’ help for sure. Which means we’re going to have to do something about the Grim Reaper situation —”

“You know, I might have something to help with that.” A drawer Noelle’s main body slid open, revealing a sapphire-tipped arrow. “Magnus figured we should all have some summoning beacons on our person, in case of emergency.” She winked. “But I was thinkin’ we could use it to lure him into some kinda sinister trap.”

She paused. “He can’t eavesdrop on us through this thing, can he?”

“Not if we don’t say his name. But I’d close that drawer for now, just to be on the safe side.” Barry said as he summoned a scroll and pen, then started jotting down notes. “This is all perfect, though! I already hashed out the spell theory for a plan, but you just made it about a billion times easier to pull off — not just because of the arrow, but because you can gather components, and I won’t have to risk him sensing my location and realizing what I’m up to!”

“Makes sense,” Noelle replied, looking over Barry’s list. “That’s all you need me to get?”

“Yeah. I was thinking most of it would be salvageable from the Miller Lab — uh, except maybe the iron filings, which are commercially available anyway.”

Noelle beamed. “I won’t let you down, Mister Bluejeans.”

“Thank you, Noelle.” Barry looked down at his robe, which looked less tattered and more vibrantly red than he’d seen it in years. “For everything.”

***

End notes:

Apologies in advance if the update schedule gets a bit less consistent from here on out, since I’ve burned through my pre-written buffer chapters, but I’ve at least got a solid chunk of Chapter 6 written and a detailed outline for the chapters after that! It’s just about getting into the write headspace to write.

as usual, comments/reblogs mean a lot!

[itsomgitsgreenblogging]

Re-sublimity: A Critical Role Fanfic

I swear, I was just planning on writing a few small fics for @shadowgast-week. I swear. And then, this happened and I basically shoved all of the prompts into one gigantic fic, which will have to have a second chapter...at least. I do this to myself. So essentially...this is a Jupiter Ascending inspired fic. 

...enjoy!

Read on AO3

Preview: 

>Journey Log #105

>Entered Intergalactic Standard Time 23:04 

>Order: Read Transcript

Dear Traveler, 

You should have seen me today! We dealt with what Fjord calls a “clusterfuck” with no problem! It was space pirates, you know, like Avantika except these ones weren’t cultists to a Deep Space Snake thingy. Yasha said we should call them bandits, but I remember you telling me that all crime in space is actually piracy because space counts as international waters. So I’m going to call them space pirates, okay! I was able to channel your energy through my STAFF, and do some serious damage. Caduceus is getting pretty good with his STAFF, you know, he was still using an actual wood staff to channel the Wildmom’s energy when we first met him. The techno-staffs are so much easier to use, and I’m excited about showing him how to update his later just like you showed me.  

But the funny thing about these space pirates were that they were kobolds! Caleb said that kobolds originate from a planet called Darastrixhurthi, which was really hard for him to pronounce. I took a guess at how to spell it here, hopefully I did it right. He had never heard of them piloting a spacecraft before, but their ships were these super duper rinky dink ships that Fjord said they most likely stole from the nearby planet and fixed up to be barely space-worthy. I’m sure you’ve seen kobolds before, but they were so cute, even though they were stupid and still tried to shoot us down after we gave them food. Anyways, Nott’s getting really good with her vibro-crossbow, and Beau’s lightning punches really saved the day. And you should have seen Yasha, she just about cleaved a ship in two with her vibro-sword! But I promise, I made sure to give them food and tuck in a statue of you as we scared them off. I’m trying to give something just as you always teach me. 

It was too bad about Frumpkin getting punted, but Caleb said he could fix him up again once we get to the nearest planet. Everyone said that because we saw the kobolds and passed by Darastrixhurthi, we’ll be reaching the Xhorhas System within two days, so long as we don’t have any more run-ins with trouble. I really hope we don’t because this has been the longest we’ve journeyed without stopping and I’m getting reaaaaaal bored. It’s so much easier when we have a hyperdrive that actually works to, you know, space travel! But I don’t really want to explode or anything. I’ll find something to do for the two days, besides rewatching my holo-dramas. Maybe I’ll have Caduceus teach me how to use the wand that I picked up on that planet with the fish-people. 

As always, I hope I can see you sometime soon when you aren’t too busy. Please look out for Mama, and my friends, and me. 

Bye!!!

[Record, included below is an image of kobolds wearing funny hats and flying on ships shaped like dicks]

 >Postscript 1, Added by Captain Fjord: Jester, I'm begging you, please stop putting dick drawings in the official journey log. We have to turn these in at port sometimes. 

>Postscript 2, Added by First Mate Beauregard: Oh come on, Captain. These are so fucking dry, I’m sure people would find it entertaining. 

>Postscript 3, Added by Nott the Brave: I personally think that kobold on the far right needs a bigger hat. 

>Postscript 4, Added by Jester Lavorre: >:D

>Postscript 5, Added by Navigator Caleb Widogast: It’s 24:00

>Postscript 6, Added by Nott the Brace: ...your people did this to my people.  

>Postscript 7, Added by Caduceus Clay: Imjuhbdwpqidnamap

>Postscript 8, Added by Yasha Nydoorin: I don’t think Caduceus meant to enter that. 

>Postscript 9, Added by Captain Fjord: No, he told me he meant to ask Jester to please call the Wildmother by her name if she can...you know the Wildmother. Alright everyone, go to sleep. We’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow. 

The solar system of Xhorhas was the place where the Kryn Dynasty had been born, a rising power that’s influence was only dampered by the ever expanding reach of the Dwendalian Empire. When the starship SS Balleater docked on the planet of Asarius, two things were made extremely clear. First, based on the look that the officers gave their ship, they were a bit worse for wear. Second, they took bureaucracy to a whole other level here. They had been waiting in a long twisting line at the Customs office for exactly two hours and twenty seven minutes, in darkened rooms only slightly illuminated by low green lights. It had frayed on all of their nerves, to be honest. The Mighty Nein had never done well with long waits, and tended to get into trouble when they weren’t doing something of pressing importance at every moment. The past twenty days of deep space travel without a functioning hyperdrive had made that extremely clear. To make matters worse, Caleb was sore over the loss of Frumpkin, who had been kicked to shit by one of the kobolds who had managed to board the ship. Familiars, or animal companion droids, could be hard to maintain but he would be able to repair him, as long as he could acquire the necessary parts.  

 Caleb was relieved when their crew reached the front of the line, and came face to face with an overworked and obviously underpaid Kryn officer who looked at them all like she was awaiting her last breath. She was drow, an alien species that was related to the elves that had colonized so many planets during the first space expansion. However, unlike the other species of elves, they were originally an earth-dwelling species. Their coloration was dark and their sensitivity to light kept everything dim in the official buildings like the one they were currently in.   

“Welcome to the planet of Assarius, is this your first time entering the Xhorhas system?” the officer asked, her voice dull and bored. 

“Yeah, it is,” Beauregard said, not sounding impressed by this officer’s obvious existential crisis. 

“Very well, then you will have to undergo the registration process. I will need to prick your finger and gather a blood sample, and ask you a few questions so we can complete the registration questionnaire. Denial of this means you will not have access to the Xhorhas System and we will have to ask you to leave immediately.” 

“So...we all have to register our DNA to get anything here?” Beauregard demanded of the Kryn officer behind the glass, who looked like she wanted nothing more than to slide the glass closed on Beauregard’s face. “Isn’t that...like...extortion or something?” 

“Clearly you are not from around here,” the Kryn officer said pointing to the sign above the desk...written unhelpfully in the language of their culture. None of them spoke it, and with a quick type into his wristband STAFF he was about to cast Comprehend Languages for a translation when she seemed exasperated by their quietness and did the translating for them. “What you need is a Kryn certified Identification and Navigation Aid, or INAV, which you utilize to transfer credits and license your spacecraft. You only receive an INAV once you have registered with our offices, and to be registered you have your DNA filed with us. Not only is this process used to prove the legitimacy of our monarchs and members of our dens, but also, yes, to prove you are who you say you are when you are paying for goods and services. Unless you want to give blood every time you go to buy food, you get an INAV.”   

“How do we know you aren’t using our DNA for shady shit,” Nott asked suspiciously. 

“Lady, I just work here,” the Kryn official snapped, motioning to the ever expanding line of annoyed and tired travelers behind them. “Either let me do my damn job here or leave the solar system.” 

“Let’s not make her life more difficult than need be,” Fjord said as he held out his hand. She put a device like a heart-rate monitor on his finger and Fjord flinched as it made a small “psst” sound. She clicked the device back into the desk, and typed something into her computer. “My name is Fjord.”

“Last name?”

“Tough,” Nott supplied, and Fjord gave her a long look. 

“Tusktooth!” Jester chirped. 

“Just Fjord,” Fjord clarified. 

“Planet of origin?”

“Nicodranas.” 

“Business here in the Kryn Dynasty?”

“Ship repairs, and mercenary work.” 

“Take two steps to the left and maintain a neutral expression.”

Fjord did as she said, and a picture was taken. The woman tapped her screen, and a confirmation ding was made. Out popped a drive that was about the size of Caleb’s index finger. She demonstrated how it extended and a tiny holographic image of Fjord’s face and his basic information as well as the genetic marker appeared. It was then handed off. 

“Alright, next,” the officer said, voice somehow more clipped than it had been moments before. They went down the line, Caleb taking up the rear as they did. He wasn’t excited for this at all...after all the last thing he needed was more traces of him where the Empire could find him. But sometimes you had to take a risk, after all, it would be far more suspicious to tap out of the process here surrounded by Kryn officers. 

Caleb held out his hand and felt the pinch of a needle before it was retracted. 

“Name?” 

“Caleb Widogast.” 

“Planet of origin?” 

“Outer territory Rex-33, Settlement BLU-MENTHAL.” 

“Business here in the Kryn Dynasty?” 

“Mercenary work and droid repair,” he said, showing her the currently out of commission Frumpkin who was in his side-satchel.  

“Take two steps to the left and maintain a neutral expression.”

Caleb did so, and heard the sound of the picture being snapped. However after she tapped something into her screen there was a different noise. An obvious alert noise that had him immediately tense up. The officer stared at her screen for a moment, then back at Caleb and then back at her screen...clearly doing a double take. Before anyone could move, she waved at a senior officer behind her. He was a tall bugbear, and made a strangely funny picture as he leaned over the small drow. He frowned. 

“I’m sorry, sir. Can you check this? I must have entered something in wrong,” the officer said, her voice confused...but not angry or suspicious as she pointed to something on the screen. The senior officer looked at what she was pointing at and then popped out the INAV and extended it, inspecting the genetic code. He double checked it with the screen, seemed content with whatever he saw, and he exited out from the glass door separating the officers and the lines. 

“No, that’s correct. Nothing wrong with the intake,” the senior officer said before addressing Caleb and inspecting him closely. “Sir, have you ever registered DNA with our system before?”

“No, I’ve never been to this system before.”

“And how old are you?” 

“I’m 33 according to the Intergalactic Universal Standard Calendar,” Caleb said, frowning. 

“Human, right?” 

“I would be.” 

“Yeah, Minryna, that sample was catalogued approximately 850 years ago. There’s no way it’s been accidentally re-entered. It’s legit,” another senior officer called back to the one inspecting Caleb. Other clerks had stopped what they were doing and had gathered around the screen, and Caleb felt the pinprick of a thousand eyes behind him and a rising tide of whispers. 

“Well, Luxon bless me,” whistled the officer before looking at Caleb. “I guess it’s someone’s lucky day isn’t it?” 

“Lucky day?” Beauregard asked incredulously. 

“Forgive me for the long wait. Congratulations on your Recurrence,” the officer said holding out his hand. Caleb, numbly, took it and let it be shook before the officer opened the INAV and signed the bottom with his finger. It glowed a silver color, as opposed to the blue of the others. 

“Recurrence?” Caleb asked, feeling more and more confused by the moment. 

“Follow me,” the officer said, and the whispers behind him grew louder. Officers moved out to seperate them from the obviously curious crowd. 

“My friends…”

“Of course you may bring them as well. We’ll make sure your ship is taken care of post haste, we’ll probably need to take off from here within an hour..” 

“Wait where the hell are we going?” Beau demanded as they all walked. 

“Why are you saying congratulations?” Nott asked as they all entered an elevator, and the officer punched the 110th floor. It was traveling up at a dizzying speed, totally glass so you could see the work on each platform as they rose. 

“Genetics carry a sacred connotation in our society,” the officer explained. “I’m sure you have heard of our practice of consecution...of the soul being reborn through the power of the Luxon Beacon. However every person is unique. In the vastness of space and time it is of course possible for a genetic code to be reproduced exactly. We consider that to be a true rebirth, a Recurrence.” 

“So...my genetic code has occurred once before?” Caleb asked. This was far less incriminating then he had feared, but also that idea was terrifying on so many levels. He could barely handle himself...the idea that there had been another one of him running around at one point was dizzying and horrible. Who knows what he had gotten up to, knowing him. 

“Yes,” the officer said simply. 

“And Caleb was someone really cool before?”  Jester asked, sounding excited. “I read a holonovel sort of like this once! Of course the discovery was wayyy sexier but-!” 

“I don’t think this is very sexy,” Yasha said softly. 

“It is neat,” Caduceus said, sounding extremely impressed. 

“So where are we going right now?” Fjord asked, trying to get them all back on track. 

“I am taking you to the upper deck, where they handle Genetic Inquiries. We just get an alert that a Recurrence has occurred and the year of the genetic sample taken of the previous life...in theory that is. We certainly haven’t had any recorded cases of Recurrence within my lifetime. Anyways, they will be able to assist with other questions, including and not limited to who your previous incarnation was, and matters of any titles they may have left you in their will." 

“Wills? Like money?” Nott asked, her interest thoroughly peaked. 

“It’s common to leave parts of your will for a future recurrence, especially amongst the nobility.” 

“This is all strangely morbid,” Caleb said, unable to help the way his mouth quirked. 

“That’s very thoughtful,” Caduceus said with a nod. “We should all be considering our futures and how we would like our affairs put into order.” 

“Of course you are into that,” Fjord said with an incredulous shake of his head, though the look he shared with Caduceus was fond. Caduceus was from a race of aliens who worshiped a nature deity and were essentially stewards of the dead. His interest didn't surprise Caleb in the least. 

They were brought to an empty looking office...well, in comparison to the line they had just been in it was downright barren. A single goblinoid looked at them from behind a desk that was laden with stacks of tablets and papers. Behind her was a seemingly endless sea of files. 

"This is the one?" she asked, looking at Caleb and his flashing silver INAV. She held out her hand and he handed it to her. She opened it, inspected the contents and the signature and then signed it herself before turning to her computer. "Very well, let me just type in this and...here we go. C-12B-Jg73_E05_8." 

She suddenly pushed with her legs and went skating down the hall with her chair. It was attached to the ground glided along easily and then with a tap of a button she was sent up to a second level. The goblinoid tapped in some code, opened a file, retrieved a holodisk, and then with a lever pull she was returned. She plugged the external drive of the holodisk into the computer checking it and reading it quickly. She then reached to plug the holodesk into the INAV. She pointed at a long document that Caleb skimmed before going to the bottom and signing with his finger. 

"Very well, congratulations, my Lord," the goblinoid said. "This highlighted section is the section of the will devoted to you."

Caleb felt the others crowd him as the goblinoid spoke on the com in Undercommon. It didn't truly surprise him to see this script written in Proto-Zemnian. That means the person had been alive Pre-Calamity or at least 800 years ago. It made sense considering talk of 850 years ago. And of course if he did share DNA with someone, it also was somewhat comforting to know it was with another Zemnian. He recognized some of the script, but utilized his techno-magic to translate typing into his STAFF and approving the magical sequence. 

"What does it say?" Jester asked excitedly. 

"He isn't gonna tell us," Beau bemoaned, now officially caught up in the excitement. 

Caleb ignored them and read it out loud. 

"And to my future recurrence, if one should ever appear and claim my title, I leave two things. First, my journal of spellcraft. If you are anything like me I am sure you will find it interesting. Second, I leave my second home on the planet of Rosohna to you if it is still standing. Both can be collected from the arbiter of my will...my…" Caleb nearly choked over the next words. "My beloved. If he still lives." 

"Oh, he lives alright," the goblinoid said as grim looking guards appeared from the side door. "Best of luck with meeting you husband again!" 

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

>Personal Log Entry #365242

>Entered Intergalactic Standard Time 01:11

>Order: Record. 

Current success on project RESONANT ECHO has continued, using my STAFF I am capable of pulling a version of myself from a discarded timeline for limited amounts of time. This has been not only thrilling, but also frustrating. They are still limited in what they can accomplish. I may have to go back to traditional spellwork and iron out the details there before attempting again with a STAFF. Sometimes raw mana cannot substitute for good old fashioned components. 

On a more personal note, I have decided to bench my idea of pulling a Resonant Echo of another willing creature for now. Firstly, I have no willing creatures to test this idea on. My solitary nature has thwarted me again, unfortunately. And secondly...I am not sure I could bear the idea of success. I do not care much for the moral quandaries of such matters, and that isn’t what stops me. I only worry that it might put me on a path that is ill-advised for my mental health. The only thing more important than progress is being able to enjoy the fruits of my hard work. I am still my own greatest resource at the end of the day. 

>Postscript: Add obsidian to shopping list, to be delivered to my personal address. Order for the delivery service to leave the package with TOWER. 

>Completed transcription, would you like to save, override, or delete this file? 

>Order: Save. 

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

Essek Theylss was in the most boring meeting of his whole life. Economics had never been his interest, though of course he understood them. He had been given a thorough education at his Den's hand, and being a long-lived species meant you had time to become knowledgeable in anything you desired. But, as always, he wished to be doing his own research as opposed to attending meetings. 

Just as he was making this wish, the meeting was interrupted by Taskhand Adeen.

"My Queen, forgive me for my interruption," the Taskhand said, as always his face was an impossible to crack study of ice. "But an urgent matter has just occurred, I was just informed of it by the guards. 

"Then speak," the Bright Queen ordered, now sitting at attention. 

"My Queen, it is news of the most importance. Shadowhand," he said suddenly, and Essek was thrown off guard because-him? What had been discovered? What one of his moving parts, his schemes, what-"there has been a Recurrence.  Congratulations, your husband returns." 

"What?" Essek asked as he stood and floated, the words hitting his skin and freezing over like icy rain. His brain, oddly, felt slow on the uptake. It was a thoroughly disorientating and dizzying experience. The words churning in a strange fog and then a rising panic. "I'm sorry, could you...could you repeat that?" 

"There has been a Recurrence of your husband, Shadowhand. He returns now, brought from Asarius. We have genetic confirmation from the Solar System database-" 

Essek knew his levitation dropped because suddenly there was a burst of pain in his knees. It was strange...suddenly he had no strength in his limbs...and his sight was swimming. Recurrence? His husband? No, it couldn't be true. His husband was gone, gone forever. Whoever this was...it wasn't him. It couldn't be him...he was just a stranger wearing his husband's face. Another ghost to torture him, to leave him behind-!

"Essek," a gentle, concerned voice said. "By the Luxon give the boy some room!" 

"Deep breaths," came another voice, echoing in his skull and rattling in his brainstem. "Deep breaths, Essek. In and out."

"Do we need a medbot? Merciful Light! What were you thinking, just springing that on him in public!" The Bright Queen...he knew it was the Bright Queen who chastised Adeen. He was following instructions, breathing in and out, and it was becoming easier to discern who was around him. The lights ceased their strobing, his heart receded from his throat and made it easier to swallow. The one keeping him from melting into the ground was Quana, the Dusk Captain and wife of the Bright Queen. The one coaching him through the essential process of breathing was the Skysybil. He was in the Bright Queen’s throne room. He wasn’t dying. He was having a panic attack. 

"Forgive me for my unsightly display," Essek said breathlessly, trying and failing at pulling himself together, welding the shards of his icy-exterior back where they belonged. This show of weakness...how could he have let himself succumb to that in public regardless of what was happening? There was always time later. 

"This is of course emotional for you," Quana said, with a gentle pat on his shoulder. "Your husband returns. Of course the feeling is overwhelming."  

"It is a joyous thing, a holy occurrence," the Bright Queen said, crossing the room and looking as radiant as a newly born star. "It is no weakness to be overwhelmed by the Divine. The Luxon has seen it fit to return your husband, and to give us all a sign of His favor. You must go and prepare for him, just as we must begin preparations to welcome him." 

The Luxon! As if the Luxon had anything to do with this! It isn't him, Essek wanted to scream. It isn't him! He's gone from my side forever. This stranger...it won't be him. This isn't divine...it's a cruel trick of fate and genetics. It isn't him, it isn't him. 

"Prepare, yes, I...I must prepare," Essek said before nearly fleeing the chamber before anyone could stop him. He must have teleported back, though all he felt was a blur of noise and light and suddenly he was there. Everything felt so strange. Nothing was right anymore. His usual sanctuary had been breached by the abnormal, and all he wanted was to make it stop.  

The hum of his levitation seemed to be the only noise that echoed from the halls of his home as he arrived. He sent the droids that acted as servants away, and slammed the door to the study close and locked it with a wave. For a moment he paused before continuing on in spite of his racing heart. The ocean between him and the desk seemed immense as he crossed it. Opening the locked compartment he removed his husband's will from inside gingerly. 

It has been at least a hundred years since he had looked at it. It was written on parchment...because of course it was, his husband had always been old-fashioned...even back then. He had kept it in a temperature and moisture controlled capsule to prevent decay ever since it had been written. He had memorized every line a long time ago, he was sure, and yet now looking at the last section he paused. The spell book and the summer home and that was it. On paper it was nothing. Hardly a blip on the radar of the vast wealth that Essek commanded at his fingertips. But he would have to give it up...more remnants of his husband that he clung to would disappear from his grasp forever.  

It wasn't fair, Essek thought, breathless with grief as he pulled his husband's spellbook from the same controlled compartment. He held back his tears stubbornly. Essek was unwilling to stain the cover of the well-loved book as he cradled it to his chest. Inside was his husband’s soul, the work that Essek had founded his magic on. This interloper would take from Essek what little he had left that he held sacred.

"Sir, your heart rate is elevated as is the saturation of stress hormones in your blood," TOWER, the AI that ran the home systems reported. The screen of his INAV lighting up the alert for Essek to see. "Are you in need of assistance?" 

"TOWER, what is the rate of Recurrence in the general population?" Essek asked, refusing to answer that question. There was no good answer, after all. Why waste his time? 

"The rate of Recurrence in the general population is one in ten trillion."

"One in ten trillion…" Essek murmured, truly grappling with that statistic for the first time in his life. He had heard that number before of course. Back when he was in school, in his courses meant to educate and indoctrinate him into the faith of the Luxon. But now it seemed so vast, so unlikely. Bards sang songs about this, subscribed entertainment was based on this. And yet somehow it was really happening to him. "And do these Recurrences...when they happen, is it reported that the person is...similar, to their previous incarnation?" 

"Physically identical, however the rate of Recurrence is so low there has not been the opportunity for true scientific studies on the phenomenon, sir. Only anecdotal accounts." 

"Give a general summary of the anecdotal accounts, TOWER,” Essek said with little patience. 

"It is theorized that though the core of a person may be written in genetics, environmental factors such as planet born, levels of sustenance during formative years, chemical and radiation exposure, family structure, socio-economic standing, and other psychological factors and epigenetics will have an effect on the individual. As such, the Recurrence may not be the exact same individual as the previous incarnation." 

"Good," Essek said as he finally drew in a breath. "Good...then this will just be an unpleasant meeting. But who knows? He may not be interested in the book and I'll be able to keep it." 

"Are you unhappy, sir? By my database's reading this is supposed to be a happy event." 

"Of course I am unhappy!" Essek snapped at the AI. "Some...some ghost wearing his face is coming here. A ghost who by sheer dumb luck is given a title to land and my husband's spellbook...and...well...my hand in marriage." 

"Would you consider it better or worse if he was the same as your husband, sir?" 

"Oh by the Nine Hells if I know!" Essek groaned. But he was lying to himself. Of course it would be worse if he was the same. If he was the same...if this ghost truly was his husband...Essek would fall apart at the seams. After all, there wasn't a worse fate than being happy, for all happiness turned to ash and ruin. He had a husband for only ninety years. In the lifespan of his people that was hardly a season, nothing worth fretting over. And yet, he was still so cold at night without him...he still woke some nights, expecting his husband to be beside him.  

Essek wouldn't go through it again. Not again, not ever. He wouldn’t allow it. 

"Contact the Theylss arbiter and have them prepare documentation for an annulment," Essek ordered TOWER as he stood. He looked towards the wide windows, the violet-blue interstellar clouds that shimmered with the radiance of distant stars. His garden called to him, his sanctuary pulled him to it like the indelible force of gravity.  He was one with it...drifting quietly as always. "I would like this to be over and done with quickly." 

Essek was about to say something else when the sound of a call going through interrupted him. He knew who it was without even looking, which is why he didn’t bother to say hello as the voice came through.  

"Essek," his Denmother said, her voice cold and commanding as her image appeared on the screen. "Congratulations. We have much to speak about."

---------------------- 

“What do you think your husband is like?” Jester asked curiously, bouncing in her seat in the flight deck. 

They were currently being escorted to Rosohna by the Echo-Knights, who’s speedy Moorbounder ships kept in tight formation around them. They had had their ship’s general needs repaired in record time, their ship restocked with supplies, and had been told that when they reached Rosohna their ship’s hyperdrive would also be taken care of free of charge. They had actually been offered a completely brand new ship that was so beautiful it had almost made Fjord cry. They had refused it, because as Beauregard pointed out if something was fucked with on their own ship, they would be able to tell easily. For now, considering the results of Nott and Caduceus’ quick investigation, it seemed like everything was fine and in working order. All of this somehow and for a reason that Caleb was still grappling with was due to the fact that Caleb was apparently married. 

“He’s not my husband,” Caleb murmured, arguing for the sake of arguing the point, though his protests sounded weak to his own ears the more he read about Recurrence and the significance it held to Xhorhassian society. 

“According to the laws of this Solar System, yeah, he is,” Beauregard said as she slid the holodisk at him and rotated the image so Caleb could read it. “Right there. Xhorhas General Law, Part 2, Title 3, Chapter 507, Section 258 on the validity of marriage. The clerk shall require written notice of intention of marriage, on forms furnished by the state registrar of vital records and statistics, containing such information as is required by law and also a statement of absence of any legal impediment to the marriage, to be given before such Xhorhassian accredited clerk under oath by both of the parties to the intended marriage. After a marriage is solemnized by an approved Dynasty religion or other official method, the marriage is considered binding until a time when an annulment is performed, see sections 280-320 for specifics. And then I looked down and here, in Section 283 it says, if one party to the marriage dies, the marriage vow is considered null and void and the living party shall receive the benefits given within the will, can apply for a remarriage, and shall be able to file for government aid if needed. However, if a Recurrence is found of the deceased the previous marriage shall be automatically renewed in the system and upheld until the time that both parties file for an annulment.”  

“Congratulations?” Fjord offered weakly. 

“Caleb isn’t married!” Nott half screamed. 

“It sounds like Caleb is married,” Yasha noted.  

“We don’t even know if this guy deserves Caleb!” Nott argued, nearly frothing at the mouth. 

“We are technically married until we file a divorce then,” Caleb clarified, feeling like his stomach was twisting in his belly. He wished desperately he had Frumpkin to hold, but the guards of Assarius hadn’t been able to supply the specialty parts he had needed. He had been told that they would be provided easily by his “husband’s” family.

His mind came back to the concept at hand. Marriage. Caleb wasn’t against the idea of marriage as a social construct. He had once even dreamed of marrying. He had wanted to marry the girl he loved more than anything else in this universe. He had planned to marry her, and die beside her in the name of his King and Empire in the great battles against the evil that threatened the security of that Empire. Of course, things didn’t turn out the way one planned… and apparently he had been married all along.  

“You are going to divorce him?” Jester asked, sounding heartbroken and drawing Caleb from his strange thoughts. “But what if he’s wonderful? What if you love him?”

“I can’t love someone I’ve never met before,” Caleb said, apologetically. 

“In a past life you did though,” Jester said, her pout deadly in its force. “That’s what Recurrence basically is, right? Being reborn.” 

“We would refer to it as reincarnation,” Caduceus added as he appeared with a teapot. He poured a cup for Caleb and gave his shoulder a gentle pat. Caleb accepted it, if only to have something to do with his hands. 

“It is a genetic anomaly,” Caleb argued, motioning at the page he was reading. “I understand that genetics and rebirth are an important aspect of the Dynasty’s religion but it’s just that. It’s just a religious belief. I don’t know this person that shared my DNA, but you wouldn’t assume that if I married someone that person would also be married to my identical twin, right?” 

“You have a twin?” Jester asked, her tail swishing excitedly. 

“I don’t have a twin,” Caleb sighed. 

“Twins don��t count as a Recurrence,” Beau mentioned. “Chapter 436, Section 23.” 

“I don’t...it was just an example. Besides, I’m sure it’s...I’m sure that person’s husband wouldn’t want to be married to me. I am not the person they loved.” 

“It must be painful for them,” Yasha said softly, eyes drawn dark with grief. “But I’m sure they might be grateful too. There isn’t much…”

Yasha trailed off, but Caleb didn’t need to hear the rest. After all, Caleb was also well versed in the language of grief. Yasha was right, there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for the chance to at least glimpse at the faces of the people he had loved the most again. 

"Den Theylss though, I've heard they are a huge deal in these parts," Fjord said quietly, tapping the steering thoughtfully. "They are one of the three most powerful families in the Kryn Dynasty, second only to the Bright Queen's den. When I was running the merchant routes back in the day, the merchant ships that came out here always said that the three dens own thirds of the Dynasty." 

"Maybe you ought to stay married to this dude," Beauregard said seriously. "He's rich. Their family did just totally mostly fix our ship in a day." 

"I want to be kind to him," Caleb said, and left it at that. 

They arrived shortly after. Rosohna was a distant planet, it’s orbit kept it approximately seven years out of the light of the sun and gave it one year with seasons. In space, it showed like a glittering jewel. It was the founding planet of the Kryn Dynasty, where the Bright Queen raised her people from the shadows underground and led them to the space age. As they entered the hemisphere Caleb immediately noticed the brightness of the city that built itself silver into the dark exterior as they landed on the loading dock.  

“Alright folks, gear up, let’s rock and roll,” Fjord said standing up. 

“Aye, aye Captain Tusktooth!” the rest of the crew shouted back, before grabbing the necessities and disembarking off the Balleater. 

They were met immediately by a group of Drow, one of the natural inhabitants of Rosohna. There were all dressed in robes, shaded darkly but with touches of glitter and shimmer, enough to catch the low light. That separated them from the woman who walked before the rest of the group. She was dressed the most exquisitely, in a dress made like it was gathered from violet clouds that moved and shimmered with an almost iridescent quality. Her silver hair was pulled back high on her head, and her ears were decorated with what had to be thousands of credits worth of jewels. 

“You stand before Deirta Theylss, Umavi of Den Theylss,” one of the group said. Fjord immediately bowed, and everyone else followed suit. When Caleb rose from his bow, he saw Deirta’s eyes raking over his face intensely. She was an attractive woman, older in the almost imperceptible way elves aged, but cold and austere. Something about her gaze set him on edge immediately. 

“How fascinating,” she said, reaching out to take Caleb’s chin. She turned him this way and that, and Caleb resisted every instinct in his body that screamed at him to shy away from this woman. He didn’t like looking people in the eye normally. This forced contact made his skin crawl. “It is truly, utterly breathtaking...how much like him you look. An absolutely perfect match if my memory serves. There is no doubt, we have been blessed by a true Recurrence. The Luxon truly shines it’s Light upon us and our den on this day.” 

She released him and folded her hands in her sleeves. Caleb could feel the rest of the Mighty Nein draw close to him, a semi-circle of protection that grounded him the present and kept him from scratching the skin off his arms. 

“It has been...a lot for a day and a half,” Caleb admitted, swallowing nervously. He understood the wariness of the others now. There were eyes on them everywhere, almost all of the movement in the hanger had ceased. 

“I am just happy to welcome my son in law home,” Deirta said with a smile that did not reach her eyes. “There is much we must discuss, of course. But the first order of business is the Reintroduction, the second is the will.” 

“Reintroduction?” Jester asked. 

“Between him and Essek, my son,” Deirta said. Essek. No one had yet said his name to Caleb. Essek Theylss was his husband by law in the Kryn Dynasty, a man that Caleb had never met before. He had the insane urge to speak it out loud, to run the name over his lips, as if that might spark something in him other than crippling anxiety. “This will be followed by the meeting with the Bright Queen tomorrow.”

“The Bright Queen?” Nott and Jester and Fjord and Beau all demanded at once, one with suspicion, one with excitement, and the other two with abject disbelief.

“You all clearly do not appreciate the cultural significance of Recurrence,” Deirta said lightly as they all walked to the transport ship. They were seated in a flying craft, with a large see-through lid that was sent up through a channel and then ported them out to the city itself. For a moment Caleb was too dazzled by the silver city itself, and almost didn’t hear Deirta’s command. “Smile for the cameras.” 

“Cameras?” Caleb asked before nearly yanking his own head back at the sight of the huge holo-screens lining the streets that lit up with their image. There was the sound of cheering audible from even up there. Jester waved manically, as well as Cad and Yasha...a bit more shyly.  

“You, child, are a phenomenon that occurs 1 out of 10 trillion,” Deirta said cooly, though she smiled sweetly for the camera that tracked her wave and the movement of the craft. “And even less likely to be discovered. You demonstrate the most sacred law of our deity, the chance for true rebirth. In such times as these, you are proof of the divine nature of our lives. And as if that were not enough, you are husband to a Theylss. Not just any Theylss either, son of the Umavi, Shadowhand to the Bright Queen, and considered to be one of the great beauties of our people. Any one of them would kill to be in your position." 

“You’re wrong,” Caleb argued as they passed the holo-screens and continued on, towards a castle of silvered metal towering from the ground. “I’m just...I’m just Caleb.” 

A murderer, a fugitive, a crazed lunatic, a self-made orphan, perhaps. But proof of the divine? Only if the divine was looking for a cosmic joke. 

“Perhaps before today,” Deirta said as she looked towards the castle. “Not anymore."

Soon enough they were out of the city proper and into the Firmaments District, as the captain of the ship informed them. The Bright Queen’s Cathedral was a massive castle-ship, currently docked in place and surrounded by the high pearly white walls that separated her and her court from the people of Rosohna. In the district behind were the houses of the other most prominent dens, laid out amongst the maze-like streets like small treasure chests. 

“Your friends shall stay with me in my household as honored guests,” Deirta Theylss ordered as they moved down to street level and moved through the city streets. She turned her seat to face them. “We shall go to your home to meet with your husband.” 

“No! Caleb doesn’t go alone!” Nott argued fiercely, planting herself firmly in front of Deirta as if she were three feet taller. “Either I go with Caleb, or he doesn’t go anywhere.” 

"The same goes for me," Beauregard said, crossing her arms in front of her chest, flexing the muscles there. She made a much more terrifying picture as Yasha sidled up beside her and echoed the same motion. Jester joined with Nott. 

"The Might Nein stays together," Fjord said, placing a hand on Caleb's shoulder, as did Caduceus. 

"Very well, I'm sure Essek will make the appropriate arrangements," Deirta said before turning to the officer who was piloting the transport craft. "Fine, go to Essek's residence." 

"Yes, my lady. Sit down, we'll arrive within a few moments,” the pilot of the transport ship said before closing the hatch and separating Deirta in the Captain's quarters from the Mighty Nein. 

"I don't think I like her," Jester hissed as she plopped down in her seat again and crossed her arms over her chest. "Your mother-in-law is mean." 

"She doesn’t have to be kind, she is an Umavi," Beau grumbled. "That’s like super nobility, but besides that she's a politician first, did you see the way she set us up?" 

Besides just the political boost, there was a more obvious reason now that he thought about it. Of course she wanted his face plastered on every holo-screen in the Dynasty. Now everyone would know his face, Caleb realized. She was far more shrewd then Caleb had given her credit for. If he tried to do something stupid, like escape without a functional hyperdrive in his ship, everyone on this side of the universe would know who he was. Tightening the noose, Caleb thought, his breathing suddenly funny in his throat. 

"This is all very complicated now," Caduceus said worriedly before stopping. "Are you alright, Caleb?" 

"I feel like I'm going to be sick," Caleb admitted, gripping his hands hard to keep them from shaking. 

"Oh no, Caleb," Jester said, immediately taking residence at his side. 

“It’ll be alright,” Nott worried his shirt quietly before gathering his hands in hers. “It’ll be alright. I promise. We’ll find a way to get out of this, I promise.” 

“Thank you, my little friend,” Caleb said weakly, letting Nott press a kiss to his forehead. 

“Let’s be prepared, who knows what could happen,” Fjord said, looking seriously out at the street. 

They arrived at a residence that was really three towers connected by walkways on the ground and above. The towers themselves had a uniquely antique feel in the city so smooth and chrome, built to resemble stone. However in the flickering low lights they revealed a glittering effect. On the top of the tower spun some sort of mechanism that shifted like gears and seemed to be measuring something. Caleb’s curiosity was thoroughly peaked, though, he wasn’t sure that this was the appropriate time to sate his curiosity. 

A servant-droid greeted them at the door to the front tower, bowing before Lady Theylss. She didn’t give the droid a single glance. 

"Where is my son?" Deirta asked shortly, brushing out her skirts though there were no folds or wrinkles to be seen. 

"In the gardens, my Lady," the droid stated. 

"Of course," she sighed tiredly. “Lead us there.” 

They walked through the tower to the walkway between the towers. There was a garden, filled with Glowing Nightblooms, a flower that when blooming cast soft blues and violets and whites into darkness. He had read about them before. They were a staple in the cheap credit a dozen novels he brought from outposts or second hand merchants, but seeing them in person was another. The path led them past crystal statues of geometric shapes that made light fracture into rainbows and painted the air vibrantly. The garden circled a pond, a dark tranquil pool that was so still that it was almost a perfect mirror with the star-filled sky. A single small shrine stood in the middle of it. And there in the center a person standing before the shrine...almost appearing like a ghost as silver incense smoke curled in the air.  

"My son, come and greet your husband," Deirta said. The figure turned from the shrine, he crossed the lake. Caleb had been to the edge of the galaxy itself, and yet he didn’t think he had ever seen a more handsome man before. He was composed of sharp edges and elegant lines, his skin a smooth and peerless dark plum, and his hair perfectly tamed and coiffed. There were no ripples as he moved-no-skimmed across the water’s edge as weightless as fog. He arrived on the stone path, and immediately knelt, expensive dark robes shifting as he did. 

"Welcome home, my beloved," Essek said, bowing deeply enough to press his forehead to his fingers. Geometrical earrings caught the light, as did an impressive, elaborate mantle that was settled upon his neck."I have been awaiting your arrival.”

“Please, lift your head,” Caleb half-begged, feeling flushed and oddly ashamed. He hadn’t done anything to deserve this act of devotion from this complete stranger. 

“I hope you have found everything suitable," Essek said as he continued to bow, pointedly ignoring his request. Caleb could almost sense Deirta gloating from where she stood a few feet behind him. 

"Your home is...it's beautiful," Caleb said, not sure if the words even came out past his panicked choking. 

"It is your home as it is mine, I am happy it pleases you," Essek said as he stood effortlessly, robes swaying as he did so. The silver of his eyes illuminated his face, flecked with pale blue and violet in the shifting light of the pond and flowers. His expression was hard to read, though his mouth curled up in a soft almost-smile. "I am Essek Theylss, son of Deirta Theylss, Shadowhand of the Bright Queen."

"Caleb. Caleb Widogast," Caleb said softly. 

"Caleb," Essek said, something flickering upon the surface and dissipating just as quickly. "And your guests?"

"My friends. The Mighty Nein." 

"TOWER," Essek called, and a screen lit up along the wall. "Make sure the service droids prepare rooms for my husband's friends." 

"Your will shall be done, sir," the AI stated. 

"In your room you shall find both the spellbook and the deed to the home as stated in the will," Essek said, tone businesslike...formal. Caleb wasn’t sure what he had been expecting. Perhaps crying? Screaming? Anger or sadness or grief? And yet Caleb saw none of that as he looked at this stranger. There was only politeness...a cool sort of acceptance. "Both already confirmed by the arbiter and myself. Are you capable of translation or will you need assistance?" 

"Ja, I can," Caleb said lifting his wrist to show his staff. Essek reached out his hand and offered it expectantly...and Caleb did the only thing he could think of and laid his wrist in Essek’s grasp. His touch was cold and fingers soft, and just that was enough to raise goosebumps along his skin. 

“I have never seen this model of a STAFF,” Essek said, inspecting the device, interest sparking in his gaze. It was the first truly genuine thing he had seen from this man who was meant to be his husband, and it soothed something in his heart. Caleb caught a glint of a STAFF upon Essek’s own wrist as well. 

“I...ah...I built it myself,” Caleb admitted. “I could not afford one with the specs I desired, so one has to do what they must.” 

"Then we have that in common, I also built my own staff. You are a techno-mage, I see," Essek said, sounding unsurprised. "Wizard speciality I assume?" 

"I...yes, how did you…?"

"He was the same," Essek said quietly, releasing Caleb’s wrist. Essek didn’t need to say who “he” was, they both knew. Caleb drew it back, and resisted the urge to stroke the place where Essek had touched. His skin still tingled from the touch. “Is there anything else you all required?”

“Ah...my familiar,” Caleb said, opening his satchel to show the limp body of the companion-droid. “I would like to fix him, do you know where I can get the materials?” 

“As you may have noticed, I employ droids heavily. I have droid-repairing materials here, TOWER shall acquire for you whatever you need,” Essek promised. He paused before looking to Deirta. "I am sure you have more you wish to discuss with me, Umavi."

"Yes," she said, without a scrape of anything resembling maternal love or affection. Instead there was only business. 

"Very well, we will speak in my office. I shall take my leave now," Essek said, turning to address them all. "If there is anything you require, you may call for the home AI, TOWER." 

And with that, he drifted past them with the Umavi, leaving them all alone. Caleb felt that he could finally breathe as soon as he was gone. 

“Wow...this is just like that scene in Tusk Love,” Jester said, steepling her fingers and looking starstruck. 

“What part of Tusk Love?” Nott asked curiously. 

“The scene where Genieveve meets her fiance, you know, the one her dad wants her to marry instead of Oskar?” Jester asked. “And the fiance totally tries to seduce her over dinner by giving her that beautiful red dress and the necklace made of lumincrystal?” 

“Oh! I love that part, especially when the fiance put his hand-” Nott started. 

“I don’t think this is like that,” Fjord said, interrupting warily. 

“If anything I don’t think it was horny enough,” Beau complained. “Like...did this guy even like his husband? He sure as fuck didn’t act like it. Like, if I spent two weeks away from the person I loved the most I would be shoving them into the nearest supply closet with me. Imagine hundreds and hundreds of years!” 

“Would you?” Fjord asked incredulously, and Beau elbowed him hard. 

“We all deal with loss in our own ways,” Caduceus said as he looked on at the shrine still settled in the pond like a cloud in the sky. “But he loved his husband...that’s for sure.”

“What makes you say that?” Caleb asked, swallowing in an attempt to wet his tongue.

“Such a fine grave could only be upkept with devotion,” Caduceus said, motioning to the small shrine. And as Caleb watched the single curl of white smoke still rising from the incense, carved words upon marble meticulously polished he realized that Caduceus was right. This wasn’t a shrine...it was a grave. “It’s beautiful.” 

 Caleb looked away, unable to quell the ache in his chest. 

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

 He spent a good portion of the evening tinkering and repairing Frumpkin with the materials provided. He was unable to explain his relief when the usual start-up menu appeared in their shared link. The feline-droid meowed happily at being reawoken, and spent a long time cuddling up with Caleb and performing his usual therapeutic routines, before settling to be charged. After that he worked on reading over the spellbook that had been given to him, marveling at the notes (trying not to think about the handwriting that was his own from the way he crossed his z’s to the dashes he used for his i’s). The Mighty Nein ate dinner together, with Essek noticeably absent from the halls and rooms. They were given a spread of traditional Xhorhassian cuisine prepared by the servant droids, and Caleb came to the realization that there was not a single living servant in the home. They were all given their own rooms, and set to retire in them. It was decided to play nice...to make the show of gratitude. If there was one constant in almost every culture across the universe, it was to know better than to trample on hospitality given. 

“What do you want to do?” Nott asked him nervously before they separated for bed. 

“I don’t know…” Caleb admitted, scrubbing at his face with his hands as he watched Frumpkin charge. “I get the feeling they aren’t going to let me leave so easily.” 

“They said the hyperdrive would be fixed in seven days. That’s the soonest we’ll be able to escape,” Nott said softly, close enough that any bugs that may have planted in the room wouldn’t have caught it. “Think about it, but don’t worry, you're stuck with me regardless of what you want to do, alright?”

“Alright,” Caleb said, catching Nott’s eyes and smiling. And he tried to sleep...he did. But his mind was racing, and finally he could do nothing but leave the room. He figured a quick walk around would settle him, and did his best to memorize the corridors and stairs and rooms he could enter. All information at this point was power, things he could use to get the upper hand in a game that he felt completely outclassed by. 

Eventually though...he found himself back  in the cloisters...the high arches and beautifully carved pathway to the garden. And he wasn’t alone, as he soon discovered. Essek stood solitary, next to a pillar looking out onto the pond and the grave. The flowers themselves were pale as a moon, glowing with a soft ethereal iridescence that almost seemed to float up to the clouds of violet and amber dust. 

Caleb drew in a breath, and Essek stiffened. A slender dark hand curled against the pillar, but he didn’t move. 

"I'm sorry," came the voice from the figure. The accent was smooth, voice soft and thoughtful. He did not turn, and somehow just that felt more genuine then any words they had exchanged thus far. He sounded exhausted, and so very apologetic...as trapped and frustrated as Caleb did. "I'm sure this all must be very difficult...I know this has been the strangest two days of my life." 

"Ja, I would say so," Caleb said, and watched as the figure cringed. Oh...his voice. It must be the same or at least similar to...to his real husband. "I am the one who should be apologizing...I'm sure this has been harder for you in more ways than I could ever comprehend." 

“If you are as alike as I fear, I would say that isn’t true,” Essek said, the tired tones of his voice biting into Caleb’s skin. “My husband was always an intelligent man...and always managed to surprise me with his inopportune insights. If you are like him...then there is little hope that you wouldn’t understand me...and I’m afraid that’s far more terrifying than the alternative.” 

“All I can do is apologize it seems,” Caleb murmured. “Apologize and hope that you accept that as my truth.” 

For a long moment Essek didn’t respond, and he wondered if this was Essek’s way of asking him to leave. Caleb was about to...to say something when Essek shifted instead. 

"My husband…" Essek started, faltered and then straightened his shoulders, still refusing to look his way. "I can’t explain it, no matter how much I desire to. His love sustained me through so much. He was one of the first humans to voyage to the stars and come to this distant shore. He was brilliant and kind and so much better than me in almost every way. I love him...even so many years after his death...he has been the only one I have ever loved." 

"I do not...I wouldn't ever presume…" Caleb started...but faltered. What could he say to make this better? There were no words he could summon in this language or his mother tongue to even scratch the surface of this situation. Instead his voice petered out, running out of gas. 

“There will be many things asked of you soon,” Essek said, retracting his hand from the pillar and slipping it into his sleeve. “I am just sorry I will not be able to spare you from it...from all of it.”

“What do you mean?”

He turned around, and Caleb’s breath left his lungs. He was as beautiful as the heavens unfurling in the hours of twilight, a single solitary figure against the quiet light. Instead of drawing near, he seemed to recede further into the shadow cast by the pillars. His expression was empty...there was nothing there, simply a reflection. 

“I have been informed there will be no annulment,” he said cooly, as if he were talking about the weather. “We shall have a Vow Exchange and Marriage Ceremony in seven rotation’s time.”

“They would have us married?” Caleb asked in shock. 

“Remarried technically, as by law you are my husband.”

“Do they have no concerns for your feelings?” Caleb asked, suddenly infuriated for Essek’s sake. 

“I have none to be concerned about...not anymore,” Essek said softly as he drifted forward. He didn’t walk, that was certain. Instead he moved as if buoyed in his own gravitational field. “I am a loyal subject to my Queen first, a child of my mother’s den second, a citizen of the Dynasty third, and a person last. I have a duty I must fulfill...and by marrying you, I shall be furthering the aims of my government through the greatest single act of propaganda we have seen since our Queen’s famous speech at the Breach. Though I have nothing to do with that, after all, I have been told that I am living the romance of the millenium. I should be very grateful.”

“Seven rotations?” Caleb echoed. A week, a single week. That was how long it would take for the hyperdrive to be fixed. The same day...of course it had to be the day that he was sure the entire solar system of Xhorhas would be watching him. Nothing could ever be easy...he didn’t deserve that much. 

“If you are planning on escaping...well...I wish you the best of luck,” Essek said with a wry smile, a glint of fang twisting up Caleb’s heart. “I doubt you will get far. My mother has told me that this shall be the single most lavish affair our people have seen since the last marriage between the Bright Queen and the Dusk Captain, and no expense will be spared for things like security.”   

“It isn’t right,” Caleb argued, blood pulsing hot and rapid in his veins. The injustice of it wrenched at his insides. “It isn’t fair, that they should treat you like some...some tool! I-”

Suddenly, Essek crashed right into Caleb’s chest. Hands balled into Caleb’s shirt with bruising force, and he stood there dumbly as Essek pressed his face more firmly to his shoulder and shuddered as if he carried the weight of the whole planet upon his shoulders. 

“It’s not fair,” Essek gasped, voice fracturing into a million pieces. Bitter and desperate and hopeless and overwhelming. “Why does it have to be this way? You even feel like him...smell like him! Please...please stop being kind to me. Push me away...run from me, hurt me. Stop sounding like him! Stop...stop talking like him. I beg of you...I beg of you. If you stay...I won’t be able to let you go again. I’ll do anything I can to stop you. I’ll be cruel, and vicious, and I’ll hurt everyone and anything that gets in my way. That’s the way I am. I am the most selfish creature that ever crawled upon the surface of any planet. So please...abandon me.” 

“You are a victim too,” Caleb said, instinctively wrapping his arms around Essek’s waist. He felt so slender in his arms...so delicate, like he was a shard of the universe...like he would disappear if he held him too long. And despite everything...it felt so right. It was just an illusion, brought on by the stress. He had never held Essek before...but he could almost imagine it with how wonderful it was. “Will you forgive me...for trying to find a way to save us both?” 

“Never,” Essek said, looking up at him. His eyes were silver like the moon-dust freckles that shimmered upon his skin, glittering with tears. “I’ll never forgive you. Just gazing upon you gives me a glimpse of that which I most desire, and even if you are just a shade if you stay I will pursue you. Don’t you understand? I am your greatest enemy. So you must go...you must escape without ever looking back at me.”

“Won’t they hurt you? How could I just leave you?” Caleb demanded. “You are innocent. I won’t damn an innocent again for my sins...never.” 

“Innocent? Ha! Abandon that pride of yours, Light damn it! Why don't you understand? The only thing I can do is protect you from me!"  

"I won't. If I leave you here...like this, what will happen to you?" 

"Nothing I don't deserve after everything I've wrought," he said bitterly, pulling away and leaving his arms so empty and bereft of purpose. "Caleb...I have done everything to deserve this fate, I see that now. This is my punishment, but it is not yours. Escape, Caleb. Escape the Kryn Dynasty. Escape my fate. Escape me. That alone...it will be enough for me for the rest of eternity." 

Essek disappeared into the shadows, leaving Caleb behind. 

[tbr-agency]

triple t. (too much tequila)

“What proof?”

summary ⟶ The girls were given one last practical exam, as a whole group, which is currently an on-going case to carry out their task, along with their sister unit, The Blossom Angels as a back-up for the first time. 

timeline ⟶ February 2020

characters : The Bloody Roses, The Blossom Angels, Jay Park, H1GHER Music, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐒

warnings ⟶ none.

“Am I the only one that is nervous?” questioned Haejin out loud as she looked towards her other members who were busy preparing themselves.

They could only look at her with a slight scoff and a small smile as they shook their heads.

“No, Haejin. I’m actually nervous ever since the senior officer gave us the reports,” answered Ahrin who was driving while glancing towards the rear-view mirror to see Haejin pouting.

Haejin couldn’t remember when was the last time that they were doing a mission. If she wasn’t wrong, the last time was when Got7 surprised them in their house.

The Bloody Roses couldn’t lie that they missed Got7 since they would always accompany the boys almost every day - as if it was like every routine even if it’s one day per week kind of basis.

What’s worse is that almost all of the Got7 members are in a committed relationship with each of their own bodyguards.

Ever since the day that The Bloody Roses girls step onto Virginia, it was as if they had limited time to update the Got7 members - but the girls tried their very best to give them a call or a message, an update regarding their well-being.

The same goes for the Got7 members.

It’s been 4 months since they went abroad to Virginia, to study at the same time helping the officers in the university to carry out their on-going missions by each one of the members attending internship.

Each of The Bloody Roses members gained so much knowledge and they were one step ahead from getting their official badge and licenses. Their last task was to be undercover in a club to catch a drug dealer.

What’s interesting is the owner of the club is none other than Jay Park.

“But why does Jay Park owns a club in L.A, U.S.?” questioned Nara as she was reading the reports.

“Because he has his company building in here too, that’s what Eunjae told me,” replied Eunhee as she was glancing at her watch.

“It’s time,” stated Eunhee as she looked towards Ahrin who gave a nod, as well as a smirk.

Hyunji smiled as she looked towards the dance floor, to see Haejin and Yeonji basically splitting up as they began their mission. It was the first time seeing Haejin stepping into the dance floor just for a mission.

During her old days, Haejin wouldn’t even glance towards the dance floor. 

It’s probably thanks to Jaebeom oppa that made Haejin to slowly forget her trauma.

“Hello? Hyunji? Can you hear me? Tug your hair behind your right ear if you can hear me.” Nara’s voice suddenly appeared on her earpiece and Hyunji quickly followed her best friend's instruction.

Hyunji somehow felt uneasy; since it was Nara. They would only use the earpiece when something happened not according to their plans. 

“Okay cool. Just saying, Eunhee and Chaeun caught the dealer. Just stay in your position till either Ahrin or Haejin gives us our next moves.” giggled Nara at the other end and Hyunji can’t help but to clench her jaw in annoyance and weirdly, in relief.

I’m gonna kick her ass after we graduated.

“I have never seen you before. Are you from Korea?”

Hyunji turned towards the voice to see an unfamiliar face that she couldn’t recognize. 

“Yeah I am. I’m sure you’re from Korea too since it is obviously coming from your pronunciation,” answered Hyunji with a slight smirk, causing the guy to look taken aback.

“Woah... How did you know? Well.. I assume that you don’t know me, so let me introduce myself. My name is Lee Hwimin, and I’m in a duo group called GroovyRoom.”

Haejin looked around the room as she watched Eunhee and Chaeun apprehend the drug dealer. At the same time, her attention goes to the dance floor and for the first time, she smiled.

Haejin smiled.

The first thing that goes onto her mind was Jaebeom. Memories of her first coincidentally meeting Jaebeom in Deepshower’s club.

“Jb? What are you doing here?!”

“How about you? What are you doing here?”

“What are you— I’m doing my job of course!”

“If you are worried if people might see us, you don’t have to worry about that,”

If Haejin could compare herself, her old self was truly a tragic story and Haejin was planning to just live her life with her old memories but she didn’t know that what was waiting for her.

Haejin was truly grateful for Jaebeom. He made her open up her heart, her closed-off thoughts, and her closed-off feelings. But what made Haejin cherish Jaebeom more was what he said to her during one of her dates in his studio, back when he returned back from the world tour concert.

“We should visit Jaehwan. Since you’re going to Virginia for 5 months, I’m sure he misses you. Well, if you don’t have the time, we could go as soon as you return back home. I have some things to tell him and one of it is I’m thankful to him that he created a girl that has so much compassion and consideration for her family, her friends, the people that she surrounds herself with,”

Though there were misunderstandings between Jaebeom and herself, Haejin knew they could overcome it since both of them trust each other and they would always communicate whenever one is feeling upset.

Haejin could say that she has changed a lot in just a spent of 4 months in Virginia. Not just herself, the other girls too. They were more confident and somehow, they have become more gorgeous too. 

To put it in Haejin’s words, The Bloody Roses are no more the bloodied roses, they were becoming into a blossom.

“Hayeo--

Haejin’s fast reflex made her to quickly grab the one that was about to hug Haejin behind her back, causing her to tightly grip onto the one’s wrist. 

Haejin finally realized who it was as her eyes widen.

“J-Jay?” Haejin muttered as she stared at the one and only Jay Park, who was just a foot away from her that if anyone sees their position, they would think both of them were about to kiss.

Haejin quickly moves away from him, releasing the grip from his wrist.

“Hayeon-ah...” Jay mumbled drunkenly and Haejin tilted her head. 

She finally realizes that the CEO of both H1GHER MUSIC and AOMG is drunk. It was obvious after seeing his reddening face.

“Jaebeom, I’m not Hayeon.”

“But you look just like her.”

“That’s because we’re cousins.” Haejin dead-panned as she shakes her head, immediately texting the other The Bloody Roses.

“Yah! Check if he is being drugged!” instructed Nara on her earpiece and Haejin quickly grabbed Jay’s redden cheeks, as she somehow checks his eyes. She heave a sigh of relief.

“Clear. He’s safe.” stated Haejin and before she could even took a step back, she was being engulfed by a tight hug from Jay, causing Haejin to shriek really loudly. 

“Oh god! Hayeon is gonna kill me! Yah! Get off! You smell like tequila!” Haejin shrieked as she groan in annoyance, as she tried to push Jay away but he was too strong for his grip. The latter was mumbling nonsense that she couldn’t guessed.

Maybe because Haejin was too busy thinking and hoping that her cousin wouldn’t thing wrongly. 

“Need help?” 

Oh no.

Haejin knew whose voice it was as she quickly gulps in nervousness. She looked towards the voice to see Hayeon basically smirking while folding her arms.

“Hayeon, it’s not--

“I know, I got a call from Eunhee that you are screaming for help that Jay is suffocating you,” Hayeon cuts off the younger one. 

With a strong grip, Hayeon managed to just single-handedly yank Jay away from Haejin. 

“..And I heard you panicking just now so, no worries - and I trust you,” added Hayeon with a smile as she pats Haejin’s shoulder while trying to carry the drunk Jay by supporting him.

“Let me help you!” Haejin offered as she went to Jay’s opposite side. As she was helping to support Jay on her shoulder, Haejin didn’t realize that Hayeon was staring at her.

“It’s good to see you, by the way. We have a lot of catching up to do, Haejin. A lot of catching up.” said Hayeon with a warm smile as she looked at Haejin. 

“Okay, everyone. Our job is done - almost. We are just waiting for The Blossom Angels and their team, well... mainly Eunjae and her team. I’m just going to check in the club to see the situation.” stated Eunhee through the walkie-talkie as she proceeded to go into the club.

They were supposed to catch the drug dealer without causing any scene - which is already been done. It was easy for The Bloody Roses as the girls manage to fight some of the drug dealer’s guards. They have been doing these for more than a year so it was done fast.

As she was doing her roundabout, there was a shriek coming from a group and Eunhee immediately went towards the group to already see Hyunji on the floor crouching beside the body.

“Is he dead?!” yelled Eunhee slightly towards Hyunji who was basically checking for the man’s pulse and she looked towards Eunhee. 

“No. His pulse is still beating,” answered Hyunji as she began opening his eyelids slightly and Hyunji suddenly gasp. 

Eunhee decided to see for herself by checking the man’s eyes and she immediately took out a vaccine from her pocket and immediately inject him.

The man is being drugged and Eunhee guessed that he drank the drugged tequila and as result, he fainted due to the drug. Ahrin told her it is fine for someone who consumes the drug but the consumer would suffer from a high fever if they didn’t get vaccinated as soon as they fainted.

“I should tell Hwimin about this,” mumbled Hyunji as she immediately took out her phone.

“Who’s Hwimin? You know this guy?” pointed Eunhee towards the man on the floor.

“He is Park Gyujeong, a member of GroovyRoom. His partner is Lee Hwimin. Both of them are under H1GHER Music.” explained Hyunji as she was already calling for back-ups.

At the same time, Eunhee decided to go near his face, checking for his breathing as she went near his face, directly at his nose to hear him peacefully breathing.

Eunhee can’t help but go towards his mouth for a sniff, for precautions. 

Urgh, tequila.

In just a second, Gyujeong’s eyes immediately shot open as he tried to sit up, not know what is going to happen next. 

His lips landed onto Eunhee.

“It was an incident, Eunhee. Stop worrying..” 

“He kissed me, Ahrin! I’m as dead as a piece of bacon if Jinyoung finds out!” Eunhee exclaimed as she was messily rubbing her hair in annoyance. The thought of Jinyoung finding out could just make Eunhee insane.

She knew how possessive Jinyoung can become and it would somehow lead to an argument if things get heated.

“Well you didn’t kiss him back! You literally pushed him away! We saw it happen!” added Yeonji as she was watching the older one, walking back and forth on the pathway. 

They were waiting for the others who were still on the job, the 3 of them are the only ones who finished their duties.

“We will back you up if anything happens, Eunhee-ah. Stop thinking about it,” advised Ahrin softly as she grabs her shoulder. Eunhee looked at the younger one with a worrying look.

“Besides, Jinyoung won’t find out unless someone wants to be a creep and took a picture of you.” shrugged Yeonji and Ahrin nodded in agreement.

Eunhee sighs as she rubs her face in exhaustion and worry.

“Good job, Eunhee. Thank you for saving Gyujeong for me.” A familiar voice said and Eunhee knew who it was as she went towards her for a hug.

“No worries, Eunjae.” mumbled Eunhee with a small smile. Eunjae raised her eyebrow as she scans Eunhee’s face.

“You look dead.”

“That’s because she is worrying about Jinyoung finding out that Gyujeong kissed her.” revealed Yeonji at the back and Eunjae tried her best not to laugh. Seeing her cousin’s reaction, Eunhee frowns.

“Yah! I’m actually freaking out! Can you imagine if Sik-K finds out his girlfriend was kissed by a guy?” exclaimed Eunhee and Eunjae rolled her eyes.

“Firstly, it won’t happen to me and lastly, it was an incident, Ahn Eunhee. I’m sure Jinyoung would understand,” explained Eunjae who was already folding her arms, seeing her panicked cousin.

“We tried to tell her that.” added Ahrin and Eunjae raised her eyebrow towards Eunhee.

“Okay, look. If somehow Jinyoung founds out or you tell him and he doesn’t believe, you can just contact me and I will show him the proof.” Eunjae made a deal, causing Eunhee to frown.

“What proof?” inquired Eunhee as she tilted her head.

“A proof,” answered Eunjae plainly with a smirk on her face.

Just then, the other members of The Bloody Roses as well as Hayeon of The Blossom Angels came out of the club, and that was the queue for the police officers to go into the club to escort the customers out for more investigations.

“Well, this is it. I have news from your senior officer. ‘Congratulations, The Bloody Roses. You have completed your internship and you have another month to go through the last few courses just for additional knowledge - then you will graduate’.” announced Eunjae as she read the message from her phone, causing The Bloody Roses members to groan and whine in frustration and tiredness. 

“Great. We have another extra month!” yelled Haejin sarcastically, causing Eunjae and Haejin to giggle to see the other girls reaction.

masterlist : Got7 Bodyguard Au

[atc74]

New Traditions

Square(s) Filled: Christmas for @spnbromentbingo, Family for @spntfwbingo

Warnings: Snowstorm, fluff, Dean being domestic, Sam being shy, implied smut

Summary: Dean and Sam arrive in Sioux Falls to spend their new Christmas Tradition with Jody, the girls, and Donna. 

Pairing: Dean x Donna, Sam x Jody

Word Count: 1485

Written for: @spnbromentbingo, @spntfwbingo, and @katymacsupernatural 6K Golden Christmas. I choose the aesthetic below. Katy, thank you and congrats!

Beta’d by: @amanda-teaches

Looking for the next level fan experience? Check out Dean, Sam, Donna, and Jody here from @scentsfromthebunker!

Dean scowled as he looked at the road ahead of them. He glanced sideways at his brother, sleeping against the cold, frosted over window. “I know, girl. Not much longer, I promise.” 

“Dude, are you seriously talking to your car?” Sam yawned, stretching his long limbs as best he could in the confined space of Baby’s front seat. 

“We hate the snow, it’s why we live in Kansas!” Dean retorted, turning his attention back to the snow covered highway. 

“No, we live in Kansas, because that is where the Men of Letters built their super secret bunker,” Sam corrected him. 

“Whatever, bitch.”

“Jerk.”

They were only about five miles from the Sioux Falls exit to Jody’s. She had decided a few years back that they all needed something to look forward to, so she started a new Christmas tradition for her little hunter family. For one solid weekend, they took three days of uninterrupted family holiday fun. Unless a nearby case popped up. Fortunately, they had been lucky so far. 

Dean pulled into Jody’s drive just as Donna was backing out. She rolled down her window and greeted the Winchesters. “Heya boys. Just heading into town to get a few extras to get us through the weekend. Wanna tag along?” 

“Sure, why not?” Dean shrugged, pulling Baby into the empty garage. They climbed from the car, Sam grabbing their bags and Dean heading to Donna’s truck. 

“This is a sweet ride, Donna. Don’t get me wrong, I love my Baby more than anything, but her rear wheel drive is less than desirable in these conditions,” Dean commented as he buckled up. 

“I’m from Minnesota, Dean. Anything less than four wheel drive is undesirable!” she snorted, kicking the truck into four by four and rolling down Jody’s street. 

With extra groceries, extra liquor and extra Christmas movies, Dean and Donna returned to Jody’s around sunset and a couple extra inches of snow later. “It’s really coming down out there!” 

“They’re predicting a polar vortex now,” Jody commented, pulling a roast from the oven. “Up to ten inches total, then the bottom is supposed to fall out tomorrow afternoon, dropping temps into the mid twenty below range.” 

“This is how much we love you, Jody,” Dean laughed, bringing dishes to the table. “Braving the weather to spend the weekend with you.” 

“Hey!” Donna piped up. 

“With all of you,” Dean corrected himself. 

“Thank you,” she smiled.

“Alex is working overtime at the hospital, and Claire was on her way back from a hunt in Montana when the storm hit. I told her to stay put and booked her a nicer hotel,” Jody commented as she brought the roast to the table. “So looks like it’s just us.” 

“Sorry, the girls can’t be here, Jodes,” Donna empathized with her friend, knowing how important her adopted daughters were to her. 

“Hey, it’s not like they ditched, life happens. We know all too well,” Jody smiled warmly at her guests. 

Over a hearty meal. Donna filled them in on the small town happenings of Hibbing. Sam and Dean took turns telling the ladies about their last few hunts, and Jody gave them updates on the girls. With the exception of talk of ganking monsters, it was as close to a normal meal they got. 

With the dishes soaking and nightcaps poured, Jody led her guests down to the recently finished basement. 

“Jody, this is awesome!” Dean marveled as he explored the newly done space. A fireplace, wall mounted TV and bookshelves took up one side, with a large sectional sofa. She added three spare bedrooms as well, always wanting to have room for an unexpected guest. 

“Thanks, Dean,” Jody replied. She showed them their rooms then headed back upstairs to finish the dishes. 

“I’ll give you a hand,” Sam offered, flashing a shy smile. 

~*~

The next morning arrived with a foot of fresh snow, blanketing her yard in crisp white. Jody and Sam enjoyed a cup of coffee before starting breakfast. 

Jody tiptoed back up the stairs after trying to rouse the two still sleeping hunters, showing Sam the evidence she captured on her phone. “They look so cute!” 

“He looks happy, even asleep. They both do,” Sam smiled. Dean had made a bed of sofa cushions on the floor in front of the fireplace, his arm wrapped tightly around Donna. “Wish I would have thought of that. Give you a little romance for once.” 

“I don’t need romance, Sam Winchester, I just need you,” Jody proclaimed, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her lips to his. 

“Hey, hey, hey! Quit making out like teenagers, you’re gonna burn the bacon!” Dean rushed to the stove. “Heathens don’t appreciate bacon.” 

Jody blushed, having been caught by Dean. Not like what she and Sam had was a secret, they just hadn’t told anyone. Donna gave her a wink, pouring two cups of coffee. 

Sam was quieter than usual during breakfast, concentrating on his egg whites, when Dean started chuckling. “Hey, it’s not a big deal, guys. We’re all adults. It’s about time we get some from someone that understands the life. Am I right, Don?” 

Jody almost choked on a piece of fruit and Sam looked mortified. Donna leaned toward his chair next to her. “That was more than some. You were rocking this D-Train all night.” 

“Okay, okay! We don’t need details!” Sam scoffed. 

“Hey, if we can’t talk about it, we shouldn’t be doing it, right?” Jody looked at Sam expectantly. 

“I’m cool talking about sex, but I don’t want to talk about the details of our sex life. That’s just for you and me,” Sam softened, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as he rose from the table. “I’m not a pig like Dean.” 

“Hey, I’m not a pig, you prude!” Dean grunted. 

“You eat enough bacon, you might be part pig,” Donna giggled, trying to lighten the mood. 

~*~

Dean and Jody worked most of the afternoon, putting together a feast for an early dinner. Donna had gone to the hospital to pick up Alex when her car wouldn’t start. They arrived just in time to sit down to eat. 

“This is incredible, Jodes!” Donna gushed over the spread in front of them. Ham, cheese covered potatoes, green beans, broccoli, salad, and pie. 

“Actually, Dean did most of this,” Jody acknowledged as she passed dishes. “Thank you for cooking.” 

“I don’t get a chance to cook much, not when it’s just the two of us,” Dean commented. “I won’t ever get the apple pie life, but this is close.” He looked up, meeting Donna’s gaze, giving her a small smile. 

“A beast in the bedroom and you can cook? You’re a man of many talents, Dean Winchester,” she giggled quietly. 

“Well, that’s more information than I needed after a thirty-six hour shift,” Alex sassed, finishing her meal quickly and excusing herself to shower and sleep for a week. 

“I stopped on the way back and grabbed a treat,” Donna shot up from her chair, heading into the kitchen. “Dean? Can you give me a hand?” 

They returned several minutes later, Dean’s hair sticking up and Donna’s face flushed. Each of them carried two glasses. “We made eggnog!” 

“Is that a euphemism? Please tell me this is just eggnog,” Sam groaned, taking a glass from his brother. 

“Shut up, bitch.” 

“Jerk.” 

“Hey, it’s Christmas!” Jody scolded, raising her glass. “To good food and great friends.” 

“To family,” Sam smiled at her from across the table. 

“To hope,” Donna blushed, looking into her drink when Dean caught her eye. 

“To a whole year of no one dying,” Dean raised his glass. 

“Dude,” Sam rolled his eyes. 

“Boys,” Jody interrupted. “Thank you all for being here. I’m lucky to have each of you. Now, it’s time for gifts!” 

Everyone passed out their gifts, taking a seat around the fire and taking turns opening. Dean smiled, looking around the circle. He and Sam never really celebrated Christmas when they were growing up, their Dad often gone on a hunt. But since meeting Donna and Jody, the tradition had grown and now it felt natural to just be in the moment, enjoying it for as long as it lasted. 

With his brother on one side and Donna curled into him on the other, they sat back with their eggnog and popcorn, Home Alone playing quietly on the television. 

Dean pressed a kiss to the top of Donna’s head as she snuggled in a little deeper. “Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals,” she giggled, not as asleep as he thought. 

Jody and Sam joined in and Dean couldn’t stop himself any longer as he started laughing along with the others. Maybe it was the eggnog, maybe it was the normalness, but Dean felt at peace for the first time in maybe forever. Maybe Christmas miracles can happen, even for salty hunters.

The Whole Enchilada: @iwantthedean​ @dolphincliffs​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @meganwinchester1999​ @cherrycokegirls1​ @closetspngirl​  @roxyspearing​ @flamencodiva​ @blacktithe7​ @sis-tafics​ @just-another-busyfangirl​ @evansrogerskitten​ @amanda-teaches​ @hannahindie​ @wotinspntarnation​ @winchesterprincessbride​ @winecatsandpizza​ @kickingitwithkirk​  @wi-deangirl77​ @hobby27​ @mogaruke​ @gh0stgurl​ @alleiradayne​ @idreamofplaid​ @seenashwrite​ @crashdevlin​ @thoughtslikeaminefield​ @emoryhemsworth​

The Dean’s List/Jensen’s Jamboree: @jerkbitchidjitassbutt​ @dean-winchesters-bacon​ @maddiepants​  @adoptdontshoppets​ @supernatural-jackles​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @akshi8278​

The Sam Sin-dicate / Jared’s Menagerie: @supernatural-jackles​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​

[jentrevellan]

Believe Again: Chapter Six

Rating: Mature Fandom: Dragon Age Inquisition Relationships: Cullen Rutherford x Female Trevelyan Tags: slow burn, slow build, slow romance, mage/templar dynamics, family drama, templars, mages, enemies to friends to lovers, angst, lyrium withdrawal, crisis of faith, loss of faith, The Chantry, sexual tension, innuendo

MASTERPOST:

A/N: Tags to be updated. Chapters posted on the 1st Thursday of the month.

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CHAPTER SIX - Cullen

Arguably those first few weeks following the formation of the Inquisition were the most pivotal. Although there was no leader yet, the initial actions were carried out by the Herald of Andraste herself. The advisors were there to simply advise, but it does appear that she took her own path and made her own decisions in the Hinterlands, much to the apparent frustration and anguish of the others (see appendix VII for detailed experts of letters). Some may think her brash and arrogant, but her legacy of saving lives and helping others is evidence to the contrary.

- An extract from the book ‘Lady, Mage, Herald, Inquisitor: a biography of Elsie Trevelyan’ by Hugo DeSalvet

6. Cullen

“She’s done what ?”  

They were in the warm and stuffy War Room for their morning meeting and Leliana had taken Cullen and Josephine through the latest report from Scout Harding in the Hinterlands and Cullen couldn’t quite believe his ears.

“The Herald has secured most of the inner Hinterlands - she’s been very busy indeed,” Leliana replied, handing the report to Josephine.

“Goodness,” the Antivan exclaimed. “Mounts for the Inquisition secured from Dennet; apostate camp destroyed; templar stronghold disassembled; rifts closed; forward camps established… it goes on!”

“Let me see that,” Cullen grumbled, taking the missive from the ambassador. He skimmed the contents. “Reports of a dragon! Maker’s breath, is she trying to prove something? That she is immortal, playing with fate this way?”

“I hardly think that’s her intention, Cullen,” Josephine said evenly. “Her hard work and determination in the Hinterlands will no doubt bring us useful allies, and perhaps even the Queen of Ferelden may begin to take notice.”

“Indeed,” Leliana said, clasping her hands behind her back. “I’ve received word from my spies that the work the Herald is doing is laying the foundations to our reputation - everyone is talking about her and her deeds.”

Cullen passed the report back to the spymaster, but he was not sold yet. “She was told to return to Haven once she had spoken to Mother Giselle-”

“Oh! That reminds me: the Good Mother arrived this morning actually,” Leliana interrupted.

“Ah, excellent,” Josephine replied. “I shall ensure she is comfortable with rooms in the Chantry.”

“Now hold on-” Cullen tried to get a word in but not for the first time, his words fell on deaf ears as Leliana and Josephine continued to chatter - that part of the conversation about the Herald was past and settled, in their view.

As the women began to talk enthusiastically about a noble’s daughter they once knew, Cullen turned to his pile of reports and opened one with interest as he recognised Cassandra’s handwriting.

Cullen,

I have made contact with Corporal Vale and whilst I’m sure he has filled you in already on the granular detail, I just want to confirm that the relief efforts are progressing albeit slowly: although it would be slower still if it weren’t for the insistence and help of the Herald.

I am still very unsure what to really make of her. On one hand, she acts rashly and appears to have exceedingly high morals. I would call her selfish, but the Herald has hindered our progress with the sole reason to help the people here - I can see no other reason nor ulterior motive.

On many occasions, I have stressed that we would be better off leaving Corporal Vale and his soldiers to do their assigned duties without our interference, but the Lady Herald is almost as stubborn as you are.

Despite this, I hope for us to return to Haven within the next week or sooner, Maker willing. Trevelyan needs to learn that she can not fix every problem under the sun.

With regards,

Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast

*

Nearly four weeks after receiving Cassandra’s letter, there was finally word that the Herald had finally left the Hinterlands. And yet a week after that, there was still no sight of her or her party. Every day since, the people of Haven had been anticipating her return and more people arrived daily seeking help or enlisting in the meantime. Although Cullen was loathed to admit it, Josephine and Leliana had been correct: the work she had been doing in the Hinterlands was increasing their reputation and influence as well as bolstering their forces. Each and every day, Cullen found himself face-to-face with more new recruits, from sellswords and mercenaries to templars and apostates. Not only that but more and more young men and women were signing up, eager to fight and learn, even though they were still wet behind the ears.

As Cullen watched over a small regiment of new recruits run drills one afternoon, activity in the expanding stables caught his eye. He saw Josephine approach the new horse master Dennet and exchange excited words, whilst looking at a horse he couldn’t quite see. Cullen excused himself and left Rylen to continue the drills, as curiosity got the better of him.

“Aye, ‘tis a fine breed indeed, even if it is from the Marshes,” Dennet was saying, brushing the horse’s mane.

Josephine nodded thoughtfully. “Hmmm, it seems my letter to Bann Trevelyan proved to be more beneficial than I had anticipated.”

“I’ll say,” Dennit continued. “This is not the only Trevelyan horse they’ve sent - have a look at the missive, milady: there are to be at least half a dozen more expected in the coming weeks.”

“What do you think, Cullen?” Josephine asked as he approached.

He looked at the mare who was quite calm in her stall, despite the flurry of activity. She was a soft sandstone colour with a peppering of warm dark marks like freckles on her rear.

“This is a fine horse,” Cullen conceded.

Josephine smiled and looked annoyingly smug. “You see Commander - a little nobility can go a long way.”

“No doubt that is why you are the Ambassador and I am not,” he replied dryly before turning to Dennet. “You mentioned more horses from Trevelyan?”

“Yes ser - they are to arrive soon, but this one was sent ahead: she’s is a gift for the Herald.”

Cullen crossed his arms. “They needn’t have bothered with the effort - by the time the Herald does come back to Haven, the horses could’ve been here and be on their way back in that time.”

Josephine rolled her eyes. “Lady Trevelyan will be back soon: she is doing such good work, as you know.”

“Even though she can’t follow simple orders,” he muttered.

“Forgive me ser, err, Commander,” Dennet interjected before Josephine could reply. “Beggin’ your pardon, but if it weren’t for her, many of the folk in the Hinterlands would’ve perished, and then some.”

Cullen said nothing and inspected the new Trevelyan mare again. It was hard to stay angry at the Herald even when his own prejudices and assumptions about her told him he had every right to be annoyed. And yet Dennet’s words had abruptly put him in his place. However, disagreeing with her blatant lack of regard to follow orders or even acknowledge them was something he could not tolerate from any of his recruits, nor any of the men and women who served the Inquisition’s army. Maybe that’s where my fault lies , he thought. Perhaps I need to stop seeing her as a recruit and take her for what she is . Although he wasn’t sure what that was exactly - other than a stubborn, noble mage, who was annoyingly beautiful-

“Commander?” Dennet interrupted his thoughts. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or agitated that he hadn’t been able to complete his trail of thought, as it was dangerous territory.

“Sorry - you were saying?” he tried to give the man his full attention. “I’m afraid my mind was momentarily elsewhere.”

“Thinking about trebuchets, no doubt,” Josephine teased.

He didn’t dare entertain the thought of voicing what he had actually been thinking, so said smoothly: “Funny you should mention that Lady Ambassador,” he continued, silently gleeful at his expert diversion. “We’re having a few issues transporting some materials for the construction of the trebuchets. Apparently, some Orlesian seems to think he owns Haven.”

Dennet snorted. “Even though it’s in Ferelden.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Cullen said, flashing a rare but brief smile at Dennet. It was good to be back in his home country and to be with fellow countrymen.

Josephine sighed. “Leave that to me - I will arrange a meeting with the Marquis and smooth things over. A good day to you both,” she said, excusing herself politely.

“While you’re here Commander, would you like to see your stallion?” Dennet asked, making his way further into the stables.

Cullen nodded and followed him. “I suppose it would be good to see him. I feel I am rather neglecting him at the moment.”

“It’s understandable ser - but he is gettin’ a bit restless,” Dennet admitted as they approached his black-coated Ferelden Forder. His hooves kicked the barn wall and he grunted as Cullen went to offer him an apple Dennet handed him. The stallion blinked slowly at Cullen before being sold by the treat and begrudgingly began to eat the apple from Cullen’s open palm.

“Have you thoughts of a name for him yet?”

“I haven’t, no,” Cullen admitted. “What did you call him, as his breeder?”

“We’ve called him Al since he was born, as he’s always been strong-willed and is very much the ‘alpha male’ with the other horses,” Dennet chuckled.

Cullen thought for a moment, patting the stallion’s dark neck. “I’ll call him Alphonse - but Al for short.”

“Very good, ser,” Dennet smiled. “It’s a strong name for a strong horse.”

Alphonse nudged Cullen’s hand and he went to scratch the horse’s nose. “I’ll take him for a ride tomorrow - could you see to it that he’s saddled and ready by first light please?” An early morning ride suddenly sounded a very appealing way to start his day.

As Dennet excused himself to assign work to some loitering stablehands, Cullen stayed a while longer with Alphonse, grateful for the silent companionship. His eyes travelled over the expanding stables that were filling up fast with mounts. He looked over at the Trevelyan mare and was reminded of her words about losing everything with her family when she became a mage. He, like all who joined the Templars, had also sacrificed his homes and family... but he and most of his fellow recruits had surrendered it willingly and with pride, unlike their charges. Why had he not considered that before?

“Commander?”

He turned to see a young page run up to him, with a letter in his hand, the seal unbroken.”This just arrived for you - from the Lady Herald,” he explained breathlessly.

Taking a final look at the Trevelyan horse, Cullen thanked the boy and began to walk back to his tent, slipping his fingers beneath the seal. He was unsure why his gut lurched at the thought of a letter from her, but all the same, he was perhaps a little keen to see what she had said. Upon writing this, she had been thinking of him. Although, their farewell at her departure had been less than amicable. Is that why I feel this way? Guilt?  

He unfolded the letter and stopped outside his tent to read in the sunlight.

Commander Cullen,

I understand that you may have a few reservations about my insistence upon staying in the Hinterlands. The fact of the matter is that these people need us, and I am all too capable to help. For you see, I am not a soldier in your army (you’re welcome, by the way, for the new recruits), I am not even under your command, and I do not follow your so-called orders. I am not, and I will never be your charge. I am a free woman, a free mage and will do what is right, and not blindly follow orders or wait until the last possible moment to do the right thing.

I will return when I return. Until then, try not to treat every passing mage as suspiciously as you do me. I know it will be difficult, but I have the utmost faith in you.

Regards,

Enchanter Elsie Trevelyan, Herald of Andraste  

He read the letter over several times outside his tent before scrunching it up in his fist. She knows then, he thought. “Curse that dwarf!” he swore aloud.

“Cullen?” he glanced up to see Rylen looking at him peculiarly. “You alright there, mate?”

He closed his eyes and took a breath. “Yes, fine, fine. Just a...frustrating report from the Herald is all.”

“I didn’t know the Herald was a dwarf,” the Starkhaven man quipped, earning him a glare from Cullen. He threw his hands up and chuckled. “Kidding, just kidding. Fancy a game of Wicked Grace to take your mind off whatever is going on in that curly head of yours?”

Cullen flinched at the subconscious use of his nickname bestowed upon him by the said dwarf and slowly shook his head, even though he was tempted. “Another time, perhaps. I feel the result of this report is going to give me much more work to do.”

“All the more reason to take a break now!” Rylen grinned, opening his arms in exaggeration.

With much reluctance, an hour or so later, Cullen found himself convinced and was sat in the tavern with other officers. He stared down at his tankard of ale, barely touching it and hardly playing the game, only speaking when was socially necessary. He still had her letter in his pocket, albeit scrunched up, and yet what she had said was burned in his mind. The hum of the tavern noise was drowned out as he repeated her words over and over in his head, beating himself up more and more each time. Finally, when it was his turn to deal and Rylen elbowed him in the ribs, Cullen decided to down his drink in one before focusing on the matter at hand - winning Wicked Grace.

*

A couple of days later, Cullen headed over to the stables, as was now part of his morning routine. As usual, Alphonse groomed and saddled, ready to go. He gratefully took the reigns from the bleary-eyed stablehand who barely registered he was there and mounted the stallion.

It was a cold morning, and even though it was dawn, there was little light as the sun was obscured by thick clouds. Nonetheless, Cullen dug his heels in and set off at a canter down the road, looking to perhaps ride for an hour to some of the forward camps dotted around the outskirts of Haven.

But Alphonse had different ideas. The horse moved well beneath him, and in the last few mornings together, had become accustomed to one another. He found himself on one of the forest paths, which went ever so gradually upwards a small hill on the side of a large mountain. He crossed not another soul, except from the morning chorus of the birds and one nug that ran out in front of Alphonse. It was idyllic and Cullen silently thanked the horse for leading him on a different path. He felt human again, and alive. And today is a new day , he thought, watching the sun rays peek through the clouds. The crisp morning had proven to be a serendipitous medicine to him.

As he descended the mountain path, he spotted fresh hoof marks in the snow which were not his own. He slowed Alphonse down and inspected them, estimating that there were perhaps three or four sets of hooves. He scratched his head and continued on - it had been a very long time since he had done any tracking, so his knowledge was terribly limited.

Upon approaching the stables, he was astounded to see it a hive of activity. Before he had left, it had been only himself and the sleepy stablehand and now stableboys and girls and assistants ran errands and Dennet’s voice boomed over the commotion. Cullen walked Alphonse into the chaos and saw four familiar horses outside, ready to be unsaddled.

“Lady Cassandra,” he said, spotting the Seeker. “You’ve finally returned.”

The Nevarran woman smiled thinly. “Finally indeed. Although I expect we will be back on the road soon if the Herald has anything to do with it.”

“As long as I’m given time to soothe my saddle sores, I don’t care,” Varric grumbled, limping away from his horse.

“If you had given us a proper warning of your return, then all arrangements for baths could’ve been made and ready for you-”

“Is that the sound of a disapproving commander, I hear?” another voice from behind him said. He whipped around to see the Herald pull her dark brown travelling cloak off her shoulders. “And it’s barely an hour past dawn,” she continued with a wry smile.

He opened his mouth to reply but snapped it shut as he took in her appearance; chestnut hair loosely braided down her back, windswept strands framed her face, and her cheeks and nose were flushed from the cold wind. He tried to remember that he was angry with her, but for the life of him, at that moment, he couldn’t understand why he would be mad at such a simple but beautiful woman…

“Lost for words, Commander? I’m flattered,” she smirked, her grey eyes twinkling mischievously. He blinked, his stomach flipping as her words were far too close to the truth.

She walked up to him and frowned as he still did not speak. Once again, his eyes involuntarily skimmed over her, but this time settled on her neck, where dark bruises were beginning to fade.

“What’s this?” he asked, impulsive brushing his gloved fingers gently over the marks.

It was Trevelyan’s turn to look uncomfortable, and her hands flew to her neck self-consciously; touching his in the process, which he snatched away as if scalded.

“Oh, this? This is nothing. A minor inconvenience at the Crossroads is all,” she said dismissively, not meeting his gaze.

Cullen’s brow furrowed and a twinge of what felt like fear came over him. “You were attacked,” he stated.

“Well yes, that is one of the hazards when you step into the middle of a war,” she forced a smile, but it did not reach her eyes and she faltered when she saw him looking down at her. “Careful Commander,” she said quietly. “Or I might think you actually care.”

His face heated up at her words and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, ahem. As long as you are alright.”

She smiled softly at him, and his gut twisted, not unpleasantly. “I am, thank you.”

He nodded, mainly to himself. “Good. well not good, but yes I am pleased you are alright. You are our only way of sealing the rifts, and we can’t afford to lose you.” he said and instantly regretted his words as she stiffened and her smile vanished.

“Ah, I see,” she said. “We can’t forget that I only have one use, and one use only,” she muttered, wriggling her fingers on her hand with the mark.

Cullen crossed his arms. “That’s not what I-”

“Isn’t it? Well it doesn’t matter,” she glanced at him and Cullen mentally kicked himself. You were worried about her as a person, is that so hard to admit ? he thought. He began to formulate something to say, but her eyes had been drawn away from him to something over his shoulder. She brushed past him, her eyes wide in awe as she approached the stall with the Trevelyan mare.

“Hello beautiful girl,” she murmured, placing a hand on the horse. “You’re Trevelyan bred, aren’t you?” she said with wonder.

Cullen cleared his throat and approached, making the Herald jump. “She’s a gift from your family.”

Elsie smiled faintly. “From my father, you mean. I sincerely doubt my mother had anything to do with this.”

He looked at her curiously, trying to comprehend her meaning, but she simply shook her head. “Nevermind - it’s a long story.”

Cullen didn’t press her but watched her quietly as she petted the horse, noting that she seemed almost at ease with the beast, and yet she chewed her lip, so he knew her mind was racing. Again, he was drawn to that simple innocent action which flooded his body with heat.

“What will you call her?” he asked, forcing himself to look at the horse and not Elsie. She contemplated his question by chewing her lip again and Cullen stared pointedly at the horse. He had to do something to stop his straying eyes. How can she elicit such a range of emotions from me when she’s none the wiser? He thought.

“Rose,” she said eventually.

“Rose?” he repeated.

“Well, they’re my favourite flowers, as cliche as that sounds, plus it reminds me of simpler times, at home,” she admitted, her cheeks faintly tinged with red, which Cullen couldn’t help but smile at.

“My sister is called Rose,” he blurted out suddenly. Elsie studied him with surprise. “Well, it’s Rosalie actually, but we always called her Rose when she was a baby.” He was rambling, but the woman before him appeared to be listening to him, so he continued. “I don’t know if she likes to be called that now though - it’s been such a long time since I’ve seen her.”

“When was the last time?” Elsie asked.

He thought a moment. “I was thirteen when I joined the Templars and left my family behind. So, what’s that? Sixteen, seventeen years? Maker, Rose was a toddler when I left and probably doesn’t remember me!”

“I’m sure she does,” Elsie said gently.

There was a pause. “If you don’t mind me asking, but how old were you when you went to the Circle?”

The question seemed to surprise her, but not as much as he surprised himself with it. Still, she didn’t scold him but tilted her head to the side. “Well, now that you mention it, I was probably about the same age as when you joined up. My sister Cecelia must be the same age as Rosalie: she was three when I left.”

“Cecelia didn’t forget you,” he said slowly.

Elsie smiled sadly. “No, she didn’t. But I was lucky enough to sometimes visit home - perks of being the ex-heir of a noble house in the city,” she shrugged.

They fell into a comfortable silence, their minds on times past, and Cullen thought of apologising for bringing up her deceased sister. But she didn’t seem angry or upset, just reflective. He himself was now more desperate than ever to see his siblings once again, as they were so close here in Ferelden, but still so far.

“Well, here we are,” Elsie said from the blue, and Cullen looked at her in confusion. “We’ve just had our first conversation that didn’t end up in bickering!” she laughed. “I take that as progress!”

Cullen couldn’t help but smile down at her. And that’s when he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was falling or Elsie Trevelyan, the Herald of Andraste, and a mage. Maker’s breath , he thought. She patted his arm affectionately and said farewell, heading to the bath-house. Cullen had to stop his mind from making the obvious assumption that in order to have a bath, she would have to remove her clothes-

“Dennet!” he cried out in a strangled voice, cutting off his thoughts abruptly. “I’ll take Alphonse out for a ride again tomorrow morning.”

The horse master raised his brows at his outburst but nodded. “Of course, Ser - I’ll make sure he’s ready.”

Cullen nodded. “Good, that’s good,” he said, watching Elsie walk away, noting the sway of her hips. He swallowed. I want her , he thought. Maker help me.  

*

Unfortunately, the tentative truce Cullen had formed with Elsie did not last long. That very afternoon, the war council convened and once again their opposing views on matters clashed head-on. To him, appealing to the Chantry seemed pointless, especially if the remaining clerics were anything like Chancellor Roderick. But the infuriating woman was determined and Cullen was vaguely aware of Cassandra’s words in her letter to him all those weeks ago: ‘She’s almost as stubborn as you are.’

Cullen drummed his fingers on the pommel of his sword at his hip, trying to ignore the pressing headache that had begun slowly but was now battling him, full-force. He was frustrated that he was starting to feel weak and was annoyed at Elsie more than anything. But if arguing with her had taught him one thing, it was that once her mind was set on something, she would see it through: her work in the Hinterlands was proof enough. As she listened to Josephine explain some of the itineraries for her trip to the capital, Elsie tilted her head to the side and he saw those dreadful marks around her neck again, and not for the first time, he wondered what had happened and why she had brushed him off. He tried not to think too much about why he was so concerned with the thought of her being hurt, especially as it was in the past and she was clearly a skilled mage in combat, from the little he had seen.

Cassandra caught him staring at Elsie and his face heated with embarrassment. She shook her head, mistaking his actions. Probably telling me not to pick a fight with the Herald , he thought.

A wave of exhaustion overcame him, and he felt like all of his willpower had been purged out of him. He shuffled from foot to foot to try and wake up, and to bring sensation back to his legs, but even concentrating on the effort to do so was enough to make him feel the fatigue take a fresh hold of him again. Carefully, so as not to draw attention to himself, Cullen laid his papers down on the table and took a steadying breath, hating how his hands shook.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and he looked up to see Cassandra watching him with thinly veiled concern. He shook his head slowly, the world spinning as he did so, and the room fell silent as all of the women stopped talking to look at him.

“Commander?” the Herald said. “Are you alright?” Her voice was sincere in her concern and much kinder than he rightly deserved.

“I’ll ah, I’ll be fine in a moment,” he managed, as even forming words in his mouth was tough.

“Perhaps now would be a good tie to adjourn for the day,” Leliana said smoothly. “We can continue the preparations for your journey tomorrow morning before you leave in the afternoon.”

Cullen shot a brief but grateful look to the spymaster, who barely inclined her head.

“Yes, that’s a good idea. It has been a long day,” Elsie conceded, still looking at him, a slight frown on her face.

As they gathered up their papers and went to leave the war room, Elsie lingered, as if waiting to speak with him. Not now , he thought wearily as he winced at the sudden shot of pain in his head, like a weight pressing behind his eyes. His unlikely saviour came in the form of Josephine who blocked Elsie’s line of sight.

“Come Lady Herald; let us take tea in my office. I would love to hear more of your life in Ostwick,” she said, looping her arm with Elsie’s, and thus steering her out of the war room.

Reluctantly, Elsie left with Josephine, but not before throwing him another look over her shoulder, before the door closed softly. Once alone, Cullen took a couple of steps backwards and sunk into one of the cushioned chairs, throwing his head back. He closed his eyes, grateful of the calm and oddly peaceful darkness.

He must’ve fallen asleep almost instantly because when he came to, he was aware of two things: one, that his neck was awfully stiff from sleeping upright; and two, that he was not alone.

The Herald was perched on the war table, watching him. He shifted uncomfortably, suddenly aware of everything from his dishevelled state to her long, unbound hair and their fairly close proximity. If he reached out, he would’ve been able to touch her knee.

“You talk in your sleep, you know,” she said, breaking the silence.

Cullen cleared his throat and rubbed his neck. “Do I?” he mumbled, knowing full well that he did. He was all too aware of the intimacy of the situation and had no clue as to why a woman who appeared to resent him was calmly sat so close to him, alone.

He coughed again and forced himself to stand, grateful that his migraine had vanished. “I thought you were having tea with Josephine,” he remembered, his voice low and hoarse from sleep.

She shrugged casually. “I did. But that was four hours ago. So I popped in to get some reports - for bedtime reading you see - and what do I find? A burly commander sleeping like a baby and talking in his sleep,” she teased with a small smile.

He said nothing and moved to stand next to her, picking up his own neglected reports. She slid off the table gracefully and leaned back, resting her elbows on the wood.

“Look, Commander… Cullen,” she said quietly, and he jolted as she said his name. It was the first time, so he looked down at her in surprise. “I… I wanted to apologise. I’ve been a right pain in everyone’s backsides and I… need to do better - to be better - especially with you.”

“Why me?” he asked slowly.

Elsie sighed and shook her head, her chestnut hair falling around her face.”Don’t make me say it, Commander,”

His heart thudded in his chest as he waited. Surely she doesn’t feel something too? He dared to hope. It was then he noticed how his hand on the table was perilously close to her elbow and as she looked up at him, he couldn’t help but glance down at her pink lips which looked so, so soft. It would take little effort for him to lean down and-

“You’re a templar,” she continued. “Or you were, and I’ve been unfair and judgemental.”

Cullen closed his eyes briefly. Of course , he thought. It’s just you having another ridiculous infatuation!

“Although, I’m sure you’ve been doing the same to me - what my being a mage and a noble,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“I thought you were apologising?” he said flatly, but the corners of his mouth tugged into a faint smile.

She glared at him then smiled in return. “Very funny, Commander.”

“Well then, it seems I owe you an apology also,” he admitted. “I promised myself I would not jump to conclusions and judge mages unfairly as I have in the past. I need to do better too.”

Elsie opened her mouth to say something, perhaps about his previous interaction with mages, but she pressed her lips together and decided better of it. Instead, she pushed off the table and turned to face him, holding her hand out for him to shake.

“To not being our stereotypes?” she offered.

There was no sign of mockery, no teasing, no jibes, just honesty. He placed his hand in hers and shook it firmly, relishing the feel of her hand in his, even though they were gloved. “To not being our stereotypes,” he agreed, indulgently holding her hand a moment longer than was proper; but if Elsie noticed she didn’t say anything.

She picked up her notes and helped him gather his reports and they left the war room together, walking in a comfortable silence through the quiet Chantry. It felt like a weight had been lifted and he felt invigorated as they walked amicable, side-by-side. As they approached the large Chantry doors, raised voices could be heard and they looked at one another in alarm before pushing them open.

In the courtyard outside there was a commotion taking place between two clear groups: templars and mages were faced off against each other and Cullen could feel the thrum of magic as the mages summoned spells at the ready to attack or defend as the templars gripped their swords. Cullen stared at his fellow templars with unconcealed disappointment and out of the corner of his eye, saw Elsie with a similar look at the mages.

“So much for the stereotypes,” she muttered, so only he could hear.

“Enough of this!” he shouted, making both groups jump and turn their attention to him.

“These apostates were-”

“That templar- ”

“ENOUGH,” he bellowed, holding a hand in the air. “We are not part of any Circle or the Chantry here. We are all part of the Inquisition.” He crossed his arms and stared them all down, daring them to say otherwise.

“What about you and the Herald?” a voice Cullen couldn’t place called out.

He glanced at Elsie who met his gaze levelly.

“Speak plainly and we will answer,” she said, her hands on her hips.

A young mage stepped forward, defiant. “Are you his charge, Herald? Does he watch over you?”

Yes I watch her , he thought, but not for the reasons you think .

“I am nobody’s charge but my own,” she said hotly. “And neither are you.”

There was a murmuring before another voice shouted: “But we’ve heard you don’t get along! Why should we comply when you don’t?”

“The Herald is not my charge,” Cullen said vehemently. “She is my…” he hesitated. “Friend.”

Her eyebrows shot up and Cullen looked around at the crowd, refusing to meet her eye. If he did, he knew his face would heat up and someone would guess his ill-conceived infatuation.

“It’s true the Commander and I have not always seen eye-to-eye and I doubt we will agree on everything but look at us here and now: standing together before you as equals, as allies, as friends .” she spread her hands. “We all have much bigger problems to deal with than this. If Cullen and I can set aside our differences to work together for the greater good, then for the love of Andraste, so can you.”

The crowd murmured around them with many heads nodding, whilst some still looked unconvinced.

“It will take time,” Cullen said calmly.”But it is not beyond the realms of possibility to be civil and work together.”

He was going to say more, but a man jostling through the crowd made him stop and cross his arms. “Back to your duties, everyone,” he ordered, and the groups willingly dispersed as Chancellor Roderick strode up to them.

“A rousing speech, for a heretical mage and templar,” he sneered.

Elsie stiffened. “I thought you had gone to Val Royeaux to seek my execution or something of the like.”

Anger licked at Cullen’s gut. “Haven’t you done enough already, Chancellor ? Leave the Inquisition on peace, if you know what’s good for you.”

“Is that a threat ?”

“It could be,” Elsie said darkly and Cullen felt a pull of magic and spotted sparks of fire in her clenched fists.

“You dare threaten me ?” he cried incredulously. “And you , you templar - can’t you do a better job at keeping your mage under control?”

Elsie hissed between her teeth but didn’t move. “You just don’t know when to shut up, do you?”

“My thoughts exactly. Chancellor , perhaps you had better talk with Seeker Cassandra or Sister Leliana before either of us do something we might regret.”

“I wouldn’t regret it,” Elsie murmured.

“Nor I,” he breathed.

Chancellor Roderick flailed and opened his mouth like a fish out of water, gasping for air, before throwing his hands up in frustration and storming between them. He spun on his heel at the Chantry doors and pointed a finger at them. “You’ve not heard the last of this,” he spat, before slamming the Chantry doors behind him.

“If only it were,” Cullen deadpanned, and Elsie snorted.

“At least that is one thing we can agree on.”

“What’s that?”

“Our mutual dislike of that man,” she smirked and his chest tightened.

Suddenly, he wanted to kiss her: to leave her breathless and see if tasting her mouth would be enough to sate him, and put an end to the temptation. But she had shown no sign of having any thoughts of that inclination, so he cleared his throat.

“Shall I escort you back to your cabin?” he offered.

“Ohh, an escort? Is this because we are friends ,” she teased, falling into step beside him.

He rolled his eyes. “I… forgive me if I misspoke, but-”

“No, no, it’s quite alright. I think I would like us to be friends if we can.” He tried not to look too pleased with her words but he was all too aware that if Elsie looked at him, she would catch him with a silly grin on his face.

“It would make sense to know more about each other if we are working together. I already know about half of Josephine’s family history,” she continued as they walked, their boots crunching in the freshly fallen snow on the path.

“Well, what would you like to know?” he asked.”Perhaps you’ll find we have more in common than our mutual hatred of Chancellor Roderick.”

She chuckled. “You see, that’s one thing I am learning about you already - that you have a darkly sarcastic sense of humour, quite similar to my own. I never would’ve guessed it.”

He shook his head sadly. “My secret is out, Maker help me,” which earned him another trickle of laughter that was light and musical. He adored it. Andraste, if I can make her smile and laugh and be her friend, then I can be content with that...can’t I?

As he bade farewell to her outside of her cabin, he walked slowly away, shuffling around the thoughts in my head. I will have to be content, he thought. As this will feeling will never be reciprocated.

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