#nearly dies from being BLOWN UP in SPACE TWICE

[forgetful-nerd]

“Hey! You guys remember that time Leo almost died?”

“Which time?”

I swear 2012! Leo was trying to set some sort of “most almost deaths” record.

[n-miri]

More Tommy-Purpled friendship content!! CW for: brief mentions of corpses and death (via being struck by lightning) 

Word count: 1610

On rainy days, Purpled polishes his sword. It’s a good weapon: netherite, with Sharpening V, Unbreaking III— the usual overpowered enchantments. He isn’t complaining though; the stronger he is, the better. He goes through a collection of blades, from the one he knows best to the oldest one he owns, on the verge of being grinded into dust. Wipe, sharpen, steer clear of rust. Keep the blade clean and dry. It’s easy to get lost in the repetitive motions. 

Dogchamp lies by his side, close to the fire, hind leg poking at his thigh through the soft material. Their ears perk up, and their tail begins to wag. Back, forth, thumping on the floorboards. 

A door slams open, followed by a myriad of curses. It’s the usual rainy day, after all. 

“Don’t let my floor get wet,” Purpled says immediately. His voice rebounds within the house, a meagre two rooms decorated with torches. A temporary base, if you will. One that he’s planning to blow up soon. 

His UFO was… 

It just isn’t the same. 

“Fuck you,” the trespasser immediately responds. The house is unbearably empty despite its miniscule nature. “I’ll do whatever I want.” 

A beat. He probably found the towel Purpled placed on the counter earlier, specifically for this scenario. Footsteps, sharp against the falling of rain—white hair peeks out from the door. Tommy sneers at the other derisively, before crossing the room in five long steps and dropping down on Purpled’s other side. 

This has become a ritual of sorts, with the two blondes (or, in Tommy’s case, ex-blonde) seeking refuge from bad days. Sometimes it’s sunny out, or the middle of the night; most of the time, it’s raining. 

The day they met, it was raining too. Wide eyes meet each other in the solace of darkness. The past is unforgivingly cruel, and whispers mockeries into their ears. Tommy looked so small, in the Church Prime’s pew; Purpled was sure he looked equally as haggard, hand clenched around the hilt of his sword. 

So, Purpled invited Tommy to his base. It’s warm despite being unfamiliar, and Dogchamp is amicable towards traumatised teenagers who need way more therapy than life is willing to give. They talked a bit about the stupidity of other members. Rarely, there was a glimpse into their lives, what they missed and have lost. Neither of them actively asked and, in a sense, it was comforting. 

Then it happens again. And again. Tommy pulls out his sewing kit on the third visit and demands to patch up his hoodie. Purpled teaches Tommy how to shear sheep, wool coming off in lines of blue. Just like this, they help each other. There’s too much left unspoken and no expectations to be had. There is no debt to be repaid, or a favour to be granted, or a profitable exchange. 

It’s just that. It’s just them, crossing each other’s path sometimes. Seeing how the other has changed from their previous meeting. 

“It’s stupid,” Tommy says suddenly. His shrill voice pierces through the haze of thoughts. Pale eyes flicker around the room, with shadows from corners pulling faces. “This is what you do in your spare time? Fight, prepare to fight, fight some more?” He scoffs, not even sparing Purpled a glance. “Idiot.” 

Much to the mercenary’s bemusement, Tommy proceeds to pull a cake out of his inventory. As in, a full-blown, home-baked dessert. 

“.... Huh?” 

An embarrassed scowl creeps onto his face. “Don’t be like that.” He drops the plate loudly onto the space between the two. “It’s edible, if that’s what you were wondering. I know how to cook shit. Niki…” Tommy’s eyes grow distant, fingers twitching, as if moving to punch the treat into oblivion. “She used to bake. A lot. Back in- y’know, back in L’manberg. I learned a bit from her,” he finishes lamely. All the bravado has left him. 

“That’s cool, dude,” Purpled replies. “It looks good.” 

“Wh- of course it does! I’m poggers at everything I do. That’s why the women love me.” Carefully, the boy flicks strands of white hair away from his eyes. “I’m astonishingly charming.” 

There was a time where Tommy’s hair imitated the sunlight, gold and yellow and bursting with happiness. He smiled more. Laughed more, too. Was more brash and insolent; was so willing to see the good in everyone he met. 

Now his hair is completely white. His dull eyes flicker around the room and his hands are always, always trembling. Tommy is different from who he was before. 

The Tommy and Purpled of before would never have become friends. 

“Hold up, let me cut it.” Saying that, the mercenary raises his newly polished sword. Tommy sputters, holding a hand out to stop him. 

“Why can’t you use a knife like a normal person!” 

Purpled shrugs. “Technically, a sword is a very big knife. It’s… stabby and shit.” 

Exasperated, Tommy gets up from his spot in a tangle of long limbs and half-hearted glares. “I’m going to slice this cake like a normal person. It deserves to be treated with respect.” 

“We’re going to eat it anyway,” Purpled points out. 

The other sniffs indignantly, turning heel to find cutleries. Dogchamp lifts their head in his direction, turning to Purpled, then back again. Slowly, the wolf raises from their sitting position and trots out of the room. Traitor. 

From the closed window, lightning streaks through the sky, followed closely by a clap of thunder. It’s loud, Purpled winces. He had expected it but- the sound still makes him jumpy. Rainy days in general are terrible. 

The patter of rain against the dirt and harsh concrete pulls out a vivid scene from his memory. Soldiers, rising out of graves, burdened by shiftless armour, heaving up weapons twice their arm span. Thunder imitates piercing shrieks, the blast of an explosion. Raindrops sound like corpses hitting the ground. 

Everytime it rains, he recalls that scene with bitter reminiscence; greets it like an old friend who came back to haunt him as an afterthought. It’s not the best way to spend his day. 

“You know,” Tommy says, having entered the room when he wasn’t aware, “I got struck by lightning once.” 

Distantly, Purpled thinks of raindrops rolling through hair and a shock so bright it electrifies the body. The event he construes in his mind, like always, paints his own death in a morbid way. He wonders if he died, would anyone come visit him? Would there even be a grave? 

“That sucks,” the blonde replies. 

Tommy gives a non-committal hum, shifting the objects in his arms. In one hand the boy carries a kitchen knife and in the other, a blanket. It’s the one with a UFO print on it—too childish for the purple boy’s tastes, yet too precious to be thrown away. 

Once again, the two -three, counting Dogchamp- are back in their original positions. The blanket is draped over Purpled’s lap and he watches, warily, as Tommy’s shaking hands raise the knife. At this point, Purpled would have offered to do it. He nearly does, too, but- 

Ten minutes have passed. Eyebrows scrunched, a bead of sweat against his forehead, Tommy tries to steady his grip and cut the cake in equal slices. It doesn’t work. It’s uneven at best, falling apart at worst, but- 

None of that matters. He did it. 

A ‘good job’ or ‘gg’ sticks on Purpled’s tongue, sincere yet worried of coming off as patronising. Instead, he gives a silent thumbs-up and hopes that conveys all the things he wishes he could say. 

Tommy grins. “Eat up before it gets cold, purple boy.” Neither of them mention that it’s definitely not warm anymore, with how long it’s been and how cold the weather is. Obediently, the teenager picks up the tiniest chunk of cake and pops it into his mouth. 

Sweet is the first thing that touches his tongue. Honestly, it shouldn’t come as a surprise— Tommy started over-seasoning his food after the prison visit, the same time he came back with a head full of white hair. That, paired with the fact Awesamdude said he had died, creates a sinking feeling in Purpled’s guts. It doesn’t take an idiot to connect the dots. 

“Yummy,” he comments. “Delicious. Uhh, what other synonyms are there? Delectable, tasteful-” A choking laugh cuts him off, too loud and too worryingly breathless all at once. “I’ll give this a… hm. Maybe an eight out of ten.” 

“I should have gotten full marks,” Tommy says sarcastically. “Glad you like it, though.” Underneath the amusement is the barest form of sincerity, and that’s enough for the both of them. 

“Uh-huh! I do.” 

Once the rain lets up, the two will part again. Purpled will wash sugar off his fingers, keep the polishing kit in a chest and carry on with his life. That’s how this has always been. 

But for now, light from the fireplace casts a glow across their faces, painting a sunset upon Tommy’s self. It’s reminiscent of older days, better days; ones that have long since passed. They’ll never get any of it back—family, homes, the people they once were. All they can do is yearn for what has been lost and move on. 

So for now, Purpled stops focusing on the what-ifs and could-have-beens. For now, he relishes in the warmth in his sides as he laughs himself silly. Dogchamp dozes off contentedly. A blanket is shared, covering his and Tommy’s laps, barely offering heat. The half-eaten cake lies between them and his friend is threatening to smash it into his face. 

Outside, rain drums against the earth. Neither of them pay it mind. 

[ransomedrogue]

Tales of Woe - Scenes from S1

ahhhhh so much blood and pain and worry... such a great episode! 

1.15

It all happened in an instant.

She saw the panic in Weller's expression and heard him yell "bomb" just before the world disappeared in front of her. Then, for what seemed like an eternity, there was nothing but darkness and a distinct ringing in her ears.

As soon as her senses recovered from the blast, Jane shouted out to check on everyone's status and was relieved to hear both Reade and Zapata respond quickly. But when Weller didn't chime in immediately, she started looking around frantically and spotted him a few feet away; still down on the ground and barely moving.

Panic threatened to overcome her as Jane hurried to Weller's side and saw that he was bleeding heavily from his neck. Quickly she clamped one hand over his wound, and tried to hold his head still with her other hand as she yelled out for help. Weller was already struggling to keep his eyes open and the pool of blood underneath him was growing at an alarming rate.

She could hear Reade call for an ambulance and then Zapata was at her side, offering her a clean cloth. Gratefully, Jane pressed the towel hard against Weller's jugular, even though the action made him groan and his eyes blinked closed in reaction to the pain.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she stammered. "But I need to stop the bleeding."

Weller made a little grunt, and Jane thought he even tried to nod.

"No, don't try and move," she soothed, trying to rub his temple while also holding his head steady.

"The ambulance is going to be here soon."

Kurt blinked his eyes open again for a second, and she could see her own panic reflected in his expression. Then his eyelids slid shut once again and Jane knew that time was short.

"You're going to be okay, Kurt," she said, desperately hoping she wasn't lying to him.

He was much too still though and Jane found her focus flickering between the rise and fall of his chest and the growing puddle under him. So she had no idea how long it was between the moment Weller slipped into unconsciousness and the arrival of the paramedics, but it felt like an entire lifetime of trying to physically hold his blood in his body. She could vaguely sense Reade giving updates on the EMTs and Tasha telling her to breathe. Yet all Jane could see was how pale and listless Kurt was in her arms, and all she could hear was a loud voice in her head telling her this was all her fault.

When help finally arrived, Jane was so fixated on holding onto Weller that they almost had to physically remove her hands from him. But when she finally stumbled back and saw the EMTs spring into action, there was a small hit of relief from seeing them quickly bandaging Kurt's wound and strapping an oxygen mask onto him.

Once the paramedics were done working on him and Weller was secure on the stretcher, Jane rushed forward to grab his hand. Even though he wasn't conscious anymore, she wanted him to know that he wasn't alone, and to reassure herself that he was still alive. Her heart hadn't stopped hammering since she'd first seen the extent of Kurt's injury and even now she felt sick to her stomach looking at his blood on the ground.

Following the EMTs as they wheeled Weller out of the building, her heart was still in her throat and she wanted desperately to jump in the ambulance with them. Letting go of him seemed terrifying, even though he was getting the best of care and she knew it wasn't her place to insist on staying with him.

"You're going to be okay, Kurt," she repeated, for what seemed like the millionth time since he was hurt.

Of course he didn't respond, his hand limply falling away after she squeezed it tight just one more time before forcing herself to let go.

Jane watched as the paramedics loaded Weller into the ambulance and sped off, then turned to look at Reade and Zapata.

"We should go to the hospital with him," she said, breaking the stunned silence between them.

Reade shook his head.

"Mayfair wants us to head back to the NYO," he said. "We can't do anything more for him and he's in good hands now."

Jane gritted her teeth at his answer, her chest tightening as she thought about just continuing on, as if Kurt's life hadn't just run through her hands. Standing there, her fingers red and sticky, she started to argue; but then Zapata stepped forward with a sympathetic frown and gripped her on the shoulder.

"Jane, he's going to be in surgery once they get him to the hospital," Tasha reasoned.

"You're going to go crazy just sitting there and waiting."

She knew it was true but it still felt wrong to be anywhere else when his life was in danger.

"He's going to be okay, Jane. Let's get back so we can get started on the case."

Of course Zapata was right.

He was going to be okay. He had to be okay.

Because, if Weller died because of a tattoo case; that would be the end of it all. Things would get blown to pieces and, this time, she would be the bomb.

###

He'd never been so relieved and angry, both at the same time. The things she made him feel – it was uncharted territory.

Where there be dragons.

That's what ancient maps would say, about unknown lands. Which resonated a lot, because he was currently feeling quite fiery himself.

Weller's eyes followed Jane as they finally wrapped up on the boat and headed back towards the SUV. He hadn't said much to her since finding her on the deck alone, because he had been dealing with securing the crime scene and getting agents in the water to look for a body. There was a lot of procedure to deal with after a shooting and Kurt had hoped it would give him time to settle his own emotions. Yet doing his job had only made him increasingly weary, especially as the wound on his neck began to throb as the night wore on.

Jane opened the door to the vehicle and sat in the back seat, huddled in a defensive posture. Kurt remembered snapping at her earlier when she'd tried to explain herself, telling her that they'd talk about back at the NYO. He winced a bit at the memory, knowing he'd been short with her because of how goddamned scared he'd been all day.

He'd almost lost her again, more times than he could count.

At least he'd taken the brunt of the explosion that was meant for her. But then he'd been in surgery when she'd been shot twice in the plates by a sniper. It was only luck that the shooter hadn't anticipated her vest and gone for a headshot. Or that he hadn't shot her right in front of his eyes, when they were trapped in the boat.

Weller's heart rate began to rise just thinking about it. Angrily, he tore his eyes away from Jane and went to the other side of the SUV. But the image of her being held at gunpoint still remained in his mind.

Part of him knew he should just take some space and sit in the front seat. He'd told her that they'd meet at the NYO with Mayfair and he should take advantage of the time to settle his rampant emotions. And yet Weller watched himself pull open the back door and seat himself next to her, as if having an out of body experience.

Reade started driving and it was awkwardly silent in the vehicle. Weller glanced over at Jane, who was doing her best to just gaze out the window. Again, he knew he should follow her lead, yet it was impossible not to stare at her, after wondering all day if she was still alive. Even though turning his head like that pulled at the stitches on his neck.

About halfway through the drive, the ache became nearly unbearable and Weller realized it was because his adrenaline level had finally died down. Still glaring at Jane, he tried to stir up his anger at the risk she'd taken; reminding himself that he just almost watched her die. But it was harder now to access that strong emotion and, instead, Kurt found himself closing his eyes for a moment, with one hand clamped over his wound and the other tightly gripped together. So, he was completely startled and nearly hit the ceiling of the SUV when she put her hand over his fist; his eyes flying open and finding her leaning towards him.

"You should still be in the hospital," Jane said.

Weller gritted his teeth as he was flooded with a mixed bag of emotions. The concern in her voice, combined with the gentleness of her touch, was nearly too inviting. Yet, when he caught both Reade and Zapata nodding in agreement at her statement, he remembered exactly why he'd done it, despite their opinions.

Lying in a bed idle while her life was in danger would have been impossible. And now he had to defend his decision, even if he was beginning to feel like shit.

"I'm fine," he growled, trying to shift his eyes away from hers.

But then Jane reached out to touch his chin, and again he found her touch impossible to ignore.

"You're bleeding," she frowned.

"I'm fine," he repeated, moving his head away from her hand.

Jane took his cue and pulled back into her own corner. But now, she was the one that kept looking at him with haunted eyes.

Weller groaned internally, a mixture of physical and emotional pain flaring through him. He sensed that there was more going on than she let on and that made his worry levels shoot right back up again. But now that she was relatively safe, he was inexplicably angry at her for making him feel so strongly.

As the anxiety-fueled fire flew through him again, Kurt was surprised by how hot it still burned. The feeling of it was enough to make him hyperventilate for a moment; which then caused his head to swim precariously, as he closed his eyes in an attempt to re-establish equilibrium.

For a second he thought everything was going to settle but then his vision blurred again and Weller felt himself pitching forward against his seatbelt. He thought he was going to smack his forehead on back of Reade's seat but, at the last instant, an arm reached out to catch him across the shoulders.

"Whoa, we should take you to the doctor," Jane said, so close he could feel her breath against his ear.

Weller sucked in some air and did his best to exhale it calmly. Jane was rubbing his chest encouragingly as he repeated the slow breath, and this time he didn't pull away from how soothing it felt.

Feeling a tiny bit more solid, he looked up and saw both Reade and Zapata glancing back at him with overly concerned expressions. Again, he groaned to himself, annoyed that he'd given the team more ammo against him. Especially because a little voice in his head kept trying to convince him that they were right to be worried. He certainly wouldn't have let any of them back on the job if they felt the way he had that day.

"I'm okay. We're going back to the NYO to debrief," he ordered, trying for an authoritative tone even though he was still having a hard time keeping his head steady.

Reade shrugged and obeyed, though he flashed a wary backward look before turning his attention back to the road. Zapata also frowned her disapproval but didn't argue either.

Success, Weller thought, forcing himself up straighter in his seat and pulling away from Jane's touch. He needed to stay clear-minded about the situation and having her hands caress him certainly wasn't helping with that.

Jane read his cue and retreated to her side of the backseat, hunkering down within herself. She looked a bit upset when he flashed his eyes over at her, and Weller told himself she should be after everything she'd done that day.

He'd almost lost her, due to a risky selfless decision on her part. The fact that an act that he admired so much could make him so goddamned angry; it was paradoxical and yet it perfectly described much of his experience with Jane.

Weller closed his eyes again, frustrated at his own thoughts. The throbbing of his neck was also undeniable, no matter how many times he swore to his team that he was fine. Then there was the fact that he'd been on the move ever since checking himself out of the hospital, with no time to refuel or rest.

He just had to make it back to the office, and out of the vehicle. Once he was there, Weller was sure that he'd get caught up in the debrief and would feel less exhausted.

It was only ten more minutes but Kurt could feel his anxiety peaking as he gritted his teeth against the pain of his wound. He had to make it after telling them he was okay, there were no other options.

Weller was so focused on his breathing and counting down the time until arrival that he didn't notice Jane move at all. But then her hand was somehow holding onto his again, her fingers snaking between his as she solidified her grip. And he suddenly remembered the comfort of that feeling as he'd been slipping in and out of consciousness while the paramedics worked on him. Her protective presence had pushed back on his panic, even as he'd been passing out due to blood loss.

Kurt blinked himself back to the present, automatically reaching his other hand up to his neck before turning to question Jane with his expression. But even when he looked in her direction, she kept her gaze out the window; as if not acknowledging what her hand was up to, though it continued to squeeze his tightly.

"You're going to be okay," he felt her communicate, through her gesture.

She was impossible and infuriating and made him feel far too much. And it was all going to come pouring out, in a furious torrent of love and fear.

[prairiesongserial]

epilogue 15

Johannes, Enis, and Val had returned with the broken truck just before nightfall, catching up at the back of the caravan as it began to slow down in search of a safe place to make camp. Ezra hadn’t noticed that they were back until everyone else was parked and unloading the trucks. Until he’d slipped away to smoke a cigarette outside his and Johannes’s trailer, and found Johannes standing there, waiting for him.

Johannes’s face was hidden in the long shadows of the dusk, but his posture was tense - arms folded, fingers of one hand drumming erratically on his forearm. He kept shifting his weight around like he couldn’t bear to be standing still. Ezra wondered what, exactly, had happened while Enis had been fixing the broken truck. Probably nothing good. Hell, the last time Johannes  had gone somewhere without Ezra had been Kill Devil Hills.

“Oh good,” Ezra said, striking a match and using it to light the end of the cigarette in the corner of his mouth. “You lived.”

“We need to talk,” Johannes said. His voice was clipped, maybe too restrained. He sounded angry.

Ezra shook his match out, and arched an eyebrow. “About Enis?”

“About - this whole thing. About Val, and them.”

“I thought there was nothing to talk about,” Ezra said, falling back on mimicking Johannes’s words from earlier that day to disguise the pit that had opened up in his stomach. What had happened while Johannes was gone from the caravan? Why did he want to talk about this now?

“Oh, there is,” Johannes said. He marched past Ezra to the steps of the trailer, catching Ezra by the upper arm on his way past, his grip just a fraction too tight. “So let’s talk. Inside.”

Ezra allowed himself to be dragged into their trailer. He didn’t bother putting out his cigarette, and instead opened a window as soon as Johannes let go of him, stationing himself near it so that the brunt of the smoke would filter outside rather than into the cramped space. Too much of a waste to light one up and then put it out immediately.

“You have something to get off your chest?” he asked - in Yiddish, now. Even if they couldn’t easily be overheard in here, it was safer.

Johannes rounded on him. In the light of the trailer, Ezra could see his brother’s expression now, could read the anger plain in his mismatched pair of eyes. Johannes looked wounded, almost, like a hurt animal lashing out to disguise the fact that it was in pain.

“You tried to kill them,” Johannes said, jabbing a finger into Ezra’s breastbone. “Twice.”

Ezra took a long, slow drag of his cigarette, and considered his options. He’d been stupid to think that Johannes wouldn’t figure it out soon. No sense in trying to out-con a con man. Maybe he had been hoping that Johannes would eventually come around to his point of view, or that he’d at least understand that what was happening was necessary to keep the circus safe.

“Hemisphere wants them dead or alive,” Ezra said, evenly. If this was going to be an argument, he at least wasn’t going to be the one to fly off the handle. “They’d probably prefer alive, but you’re getting attached, and you’re not going to want to hand them over by the time we get to Maine. I know you. Once they’re dead, they’re barely our problem anymore.”

“So you almost kill Enis? To prove some fucking point about me getting too attached?” Johannes asked, flinging one arm out in some half-baked angry gesture. His pupils were blown wide with adrenaline, his hair sticking up at angles that could only mean he’d been running his hair through it. He began to pace the relatively small space of the trailer, stalking around the obstacles in his way like a restless tiger.

“Enis was an accident,” Ezra said, softly. “I didn’t know -”

“That doesn’t mean you get to brush it off!”

“I’m not brushing it off,” Ezra snapped. He took another drag on his cigarette. Tried to calm himself before he went on. “I feel horrible about what happened to Enis. Of course I feel horrible. He’s our brother.”

“And you almost killed him to teach me a lesson!”

“This isn’t -” Ezra began, and paused, sensing himself rising to Johannes’s level of frustration again. “Johannes, this isn’t about teaching you a lesson. This is about making sure Hemisphere doesn’t gun down you, me, and the entire circus because we couldn’t follow through on the job they paid us to do.”

“We can pay them back!” Johannes insisted. He was still pacing. “We’ve got D.C. coming up - that’s one of the biggest shows on the circuit, plus we can hit the gala -”

It was dawning on Ezra that Johannes’s mind was already made up about the bounties. That he’d already been working on a plan for slipping out of the deal with Hemisphere. Ezra turned to blow smoke out the window, trying to shove down the anger he felt threatening to boil over inside of him. How could Johannes even think of doing something like that, when the lives of everyone in the circus were on the line? If they didn’t hand over the bounties, and they couldn’t pay back the money Lady had already given them, there really was a good chance Hemisphere would kill everyone in the circus. Or force them into indentures. Ezra’s hands started to shake, making the ash at the end of his cigarette fall onto the windowsill.

“Johannes,” Ezra said, bracing himself to try again. Surely there was some way to get through to his brother, some way to make him see what he was putting at stake here - and all for what? Some priest he was infatuated with? “You and I both know there’s no way we’ll make that money back. Our only way out of this is keeping our word.”

Johannes turned back towards him. Closed the distance between the two of them, so they stood nearly chest to chest. So that Ezra could see that the wounded look in Johannes’s eye had hardened into something more steely, something full of resolve.

“You don’t make the decisions here,” Johannes said, his voice stony.

Ezra leaned back towards the window. “We’re partners.”

“No, we’re not,” Johannes snapped. “I’m the ringmaster. You play the piano.”

“I run the numbers,” Ezra said, tipping his chin up to look Johannes in the eye. Setting his jaw, like he was expecting a physical blow. “And I know for a fact we can’t get the money to -”

“We’re not handing them over,” Johannes said. His jaw was set, too.

“I’m telling you we have to.”

“And I’m telling you we’re not.” Johannes turned his back on Ezra, hands balled into fists at his sides. “I run the circus. What I say, goes. And we’re not fucking turning anyone over to Hemisphere. Get with the program, or get out.”

Ezra winced. Somehow, that had all been worse than any physical blow that Johannes could have delivered. Not that they’d fistfought at all since they’d been boys.

“You can’t possibly be that in love with the preacher,” he said, desperately.

Johannes didn’t turn around.

“So that’s it?” Ezra asked. “You’ll risk everyone here dying because you, what, have a crush? Do you know how stupid you are?”

“I told him,” Johannes said. His voice was even - but he was an actor. He could force it that way if he wanted to.

“Told him what?”

“That I was going to sell him out.” Johannes glanced over his shoulder, smiling ruefully. “But that I decided not to, after all. And I’m not going back on my word.”

“I can’t fucking believe you,” Ezra said - in English, breaking what little bubble of conversational privacy they’d had.

“You don’t have to believe me. I’m in charge. We’re not doing it,” Johannes said. He stepped towards the table with its mess of papers, and leaned over it, gripping the edges like a drowning man trying to keep from being swept away.

“I’ve had a long fucking day,” he said, “and I’d like to go see what’s for dinner.”

“Fine,” Ezra said. Apparently there was to be no more argument, now that Johannes had gotten his last word in.

Johannes said nothing in reply. Ezra left the trailer, shutting the door silently behind him rather than slamming it and making a scene. Sometimes it was fine for the circus to know they were bickering, but this wasn’t one of those times. 

Ezra felt chastised. He felt like a child who had been scolded unfairly, even though he knew what he’d been doing was the only way forward. It was immoral to take a life, it went against everything he’d ever known or been taught, but the lives of four strangers weighed against the lives of the only people Ezra had ever known as family? No contest. That was why they had taken the money in the first place. Even if Johannes didn’t understand it, it was the task Ezra had put himself to with a grim sense of duty.

If Johannes wanted to think he was in charge, so be it. They would go to D.C. They would put on a show, and grease palms at the gala, and maybe walk out with new sponsors and a trove of stolen valuables. Ezra would play his part. And between D.C. and Maine, he would ensure that all of the bounties died. He had plenty of time to figure out how to make it look like an accident.

15.10 || 16.1

[the-last-cuddlebender]

I wish you would write a fic where Aang and or Katara dies

*inhale* I knew this day would come. (I have -32% skill at writing character deaths because I am soft and squishy, but I tried...and I reluctantly appreciate the practice, especially since this got a lot longer than a fic request lmao🙃) BUT SERIOUSLY, ANON, WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME—?!

Katara was an ocean reduced to a puddle, and Aang held her close like she might drift away.

His hug was warm, his arms were home, and the soft coo that spoke her name almost made her believe that everything was going to be okay...

Rating: T

Words: 3,300 (AO3)

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Dozens of cracks tore open the cave floor like a dried log being snapped in half. The continent itself was being torn asunder, but the world falling apart wasn’t what filled Katara from toe to brim with frozen static.

The look on Aang’s face made it harder to breathe. He held her still with that unfamiliar but familiar smile of his that brought down her every defense. He cradled her face as she caught her breath and recovered from the sprint for their lives.

His voice was a gentle coo that was forever concerned, but his words were distant and fuzzy like he was speaking to her through water.

“—can, Katara. I—”

The tunnel threatened to collapse again, and Katara braced herself to the wall and coughed on the dust that greeted her stinging lungs.

“—be right behind you. Look at me. I promise. I’ll be right behind you, okay? I promise.”

Aang kissed her brow for a second too long. It didn’t feel right. He didn’t look right. He didn’t sound right.

Katara was almost too weak to speak, so her concern bled into small touches and little tugs to pull him closer. The Uprisers were not known for being kind to their captives, and Katara had been no exception. The drugs they forced down her throat were thick and sour like rancid syrup; her bending was numb and kept just beyond her ball and chain, and the living hum thrumming just beneath her skin refused to give up control of her body.

Aang, however, looked as horrible as she felt. She tried not to think about what he had to fight through to rescue her from the compound.

Aang had never struggled to breathe before. He was an airbender. The scratchy sounds from his every pant were crimes against nature.

“Aang—”

“I promise.” Aang stepped closer like he was giving himself as a gift—No, no, not a gift, something worse. His presence was warm like something safe and soothing, and it radiated in the air between them...but his winds were wilting.

Aang’s smile got a little bigger. He stroked her face again. “I’ll be right behind you. I promise. Have I ever broken a promise?”

The mountain groaned and warped beneath them like the rolling shoulders of some large beast. The imaginations of their children’s cries were in Katara’s ears, now; the force of them nearly jerked her off her feet.

Aang said something else—something reassuring that began with a soft promise and ended with a gentle whisper of her name.

The hairs on Katara’s nape stood on end, and her stomach flipped into everywhere it shouldn’t be.

Aang’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. It didn’t spark any color, either; it was just enough to dress his face in a grin. 

His smile—damn that spiritsdamned smile—

His little laugh was a sledgehammer driving into her gut, his brushing touches were claws sinking into her heart, and the little shadow in his eyes—terrified and so sad that Katara nearly cried for him—was a beast threatening to rip her apart. 

He...He wouldn’t...

Heat crawled into her face, warmth slid down her cheeks, and Aang’s unspoken words were daggers twisting into open wounds and bleeding her out.

...He couldn’t.

The whole continent shook with a mighty roar. Aang stiffened and failed to pretend to ignore it. He looked at her like he was looking through her, into her—flipping through the pages of her soul and signing them so his presence there wouldn’t be forgotten.

He couldn’t—He promised—

His image blurred. “No…” Katara’s first tears raced down her face like they might be able to stop him if only they hit the ground fast enough. “N-No...No, I am not—Dammit, Aang, I am not leaving here without you!”

Aang’s smile was a tranquilizer, and it was made all the more potent when he claimed the space between them again. Katara fisted his robes; it took her a few fumbling tries—like her fingers were stiffened from frostbite—, but her shaking hands eventually found purchase.

His hands caught her face before she could hide under his chin. “Leaving me?” He said it so casually that Katara would have smacked him if she could move. “Who said you were leaving me? You’re not leaving me. I’m just giving you a head start. I’ll catch up with you.”

“Aang, please. We have to go home. You—You know how Tenzin gets when it storms like this. He and Bumi and Kya need you so…so we have to go home...please.”

Aang’s smile got a little bigger. His eyes got a little wetter. The press of his brow to hers was as gentle as he always was and like how he always made her feel.

He exhaled—the sound was familiar; the air was, too—, but this breath left him like it did in her nightmares after those days when someone walked into her clinic and didn’t walk out.

“...Tell them that I love them?”

Katara’s chest caved in like it was made of glass. Everything flushed too hot and too cold all at once. Her head was fuzzy and filled with cotton.

Aang had the audacity to smile a little more—lopsided on the left side with the shadow of a dimple that never did choose whether or not to call his face its home—and wipe his thumbs under her eyes like he could wipe away her broken heart just as easily.

Katara’s voice was watery and taut like a cable about to snap. “I’m not telling them shit.” She glared hellfire at his stupid face even as she leaned into his touch and drank the safety he cloaked her with. “You’ll tell them yourself once we get home. They’re probably hungry since it’s close to their bedtime and—”

“Katara…”

“No! We are going home—both of us—and y-you can tell them yourself! We are going to regroup and try again, but right now we are going home—!”

She tugged him, but he didn’t move. Her buckling knees nearly took her out, and some hidden part of her ripped in half and bled poison—sharp and twice as toxic as the Uprisers’ drugs—into everything that she was.

Aang’s eyes misted over like the boulders on Ember Island that sat in the sand and surf and bore a perpetual glaze from the ocean throwing itself against them.

He could not have begged her any harder if he was on his knees.

“Katara…”

No. No. She wouldn’t—she couldn’t...

Katara sucked air on her next inhale as her throat threatened to close.

She yelled at him. She screamed at him. The mountain shook some more, Aang grew all the more concerned, and the look on his face and the sag of his shoulders—defeated—made her weep all the harder.

“—expect me to care for you so little that I would leave you behind! How could you ever—how could you ever j-just expect me to—!”

He let her tire herself out. Typical airbender tactic. Her body, the drugs, and her exhaustion fought her on his behalf, and her shaking fists beat his chest in little more than muted pats.

Aang slipped past her defenses, held her face in a way that compelled her to lean into his palms, and showered her with chaste kisses that lasted for seconds at a time. Each one lasted longer and pressed deeper than the one before like he was guiding her into warm water. They were simple, they were welcoming, and they were perfect.

He tamed her like it was the most natural thing in the world, and, when he mumbled sweet words into his every kiss, she shuddered like something dead about to be blown into dust.

Katara was an ocean reduced to a puddle, and Aang held her close like she might drift away.

His hug was warm, his arms were home, and the soft coo that spoke her name almost made her believe that everything was going to be okay.

Katara choked on her next breath and buried the wet sound in the singed tatters of robes resting over his heart.

“P-Please, Aang…Please...”

Aang hugged her tighter to keep her from falling apart. “...I love you.”

Katara trembled, but the small kiss to her cheek caught the pieces of her shattered heart, and the hum of his voice calmed her storm like he was shepherding it back home. Katara’s legs buckled. She almost smiled, damn it all. She hugged his neck and rushed to tell him how much she loved him and how much she needed him to come home.

He promised. He promised.

Aang kneeled and guided Katara to her knees like he knew better than she did that she would fall flat the second he was gone. Katara scrambled to hold onto him; she clawed his back and prayed that her fingers would not be numb for long enough to keep him there.

“No, no, no, no, no, Aang, please, no, please—”

“I love you...I love you...I love you…” He kissed her some more and rubbed her back. “It’s okay, Katara.”

Katara shook her head. “N-No…’s not okay. It’s not. Aang, I don’t...I can’t…” She pressed her face to his. It was the only part of her she could move. “My…’m husband ‘nd I need you and...a-and…”

She was scared. She was so, so scared. His arms were the safest place in the world, and she needed him. She loved him. He was her husband. He was the father of their children. He was her full moon when she was at her weakest, and he was the man she was going to spend every boring, exciting, sad, happy moment of her life with.

“You...You promised...You promised, Aang…You promised…”

Aang’s hand was ghostly as it trailed up and down her back. His touch was a key and she was his safe, and he unlocked the tension out of every part of her so she could barely muster the control to hold onto him. His next kiss was longer than the rest. The hug he tugged her into was so safe that it almost tricked her into thinking that he was leaving for only a little while.

“I did promise. And I am promising.” She felt his smile when he kissed her neck and talked right into her ear. “I’ll be right behind you, okay? Just keep walking east, and Appa will find you. Keep your eyes ahead of you. You can get lost if you look back.”

Katara hesitated, frozen, for a second that lasted an eternity.

...She didn’t want to say goodbye. 

“Don’t...Don’t go…Please, don’t go. I’m begging you, Aang, please…” She fought the numbness trapping her within the cage of her body, but her efforts to hold him tighter did nothing but make her arms shake. “I love you...I love you so much, and I can’t...P-Please don’t go…”

Aang pulled away; Katara flinched like a bandage was being torn off and scrambled to keep him close, but she might as well have tried finding purchase on wet glass. 

He cupped the curve of her jaw, and his fingers wove into the stray hairs that curled under her ear. She leaned into him. She didn’t bother trying to hide her desperation. Her next plea was the whine of a dying machine, and her shaking hand held his wrist to brand his warmth into her. She closed her eyes and prayed to be anywhere else.

She could tell him how much she loved him until the universe itself buckled and collapsed and still not have said how much her heart bled for him.

He was the daydream that made all of her nightmares worth it.

...He was her best friend.

Defeated grey eyes like ashes left in the wake of a fire looked at her like he was seeing her for the first time.

Then he smiled. And Katara’s heart went to war.

Because the way he looked at her made everything bright and warm and perfect even though his eyes were kissing her goodbye.

“I’ll be right behind you, Katara,” he said. His quiet voice—always gentle and forever concerned—was strong and reassuring, but he swallowed so heavily that she saw his throat bob. His touched his forehead to hers and drowned her in all things safe and familiar and home. “I promise.”

Katara made a sound like a whimper. Her world turned crooked, and her grip on his robes was the only thing keeping her above water.

He was supposed to teach Bumi how to fly a skybison. He was supposed to help Sokka prank Toph the day after next for her birthday. He was supposed to teach Tenzin how to airbend. He was supposed to teach Kya how to dance so she wouldn’t be so nervous in front of other people.

He promised—He promised...

Aang kissed both her cheeks and twice between her eyes.

“I love you.”

And then...nothing.

The warmth was gone—just a gust of air in his wake. He didn’t let her see him leave.

There was a wall where he once was, sealing the cave shut.

Katara was suddenly drowning, and she fought to find her air. “No!” She dragged herself forward and fell flat twice before touching the cold barrier. She shook like a building about to collapse. She clawed the stone as she spiraled into something worse than darkness. “No! Aang, you promised!” Her numb limbs got a little number, and her soul burned like it was peeled raw. She screamed so loud that it threatened to make her throat bleed. “Aang, you promised! Aang, please! Please! Aang, you promised!”

The mountain growled and threatened to crush her, but Katara yelled at it, too. She yelled at the Spirits and the Avatars and her stupid, stupid best friend.

The sounds from beyond and below the stone wall would haunt her forever. Katara clawed the door he had slammed in her face even though she could just barely find the strength to keep conscious.

He promised. He promised, damn it all. He promised—

Sokka and Suki found Katara mere minutes before the mountain collapsed. Her fingers were bloody. Her voice was gone. She was crying more than breathing.

Sokka cursed as he dragged her, weakly kicking and mutely screaming, out of the cave while Suki tried to keep Appa still. 

Katara scrambled and fought—frantic—but her world was spinning out of control. She couldn’t muster more than a desperate squirm and a heartbroken whine that Suki had to look away from.

“Let me go! He promised!” Katara screamed, but her voice was a leaky stream of air from a broken pipe that was barely louder than the rain. Her words were full of holes and made the back of her tongue her taste like iron and salt. “Sokka, he needs me! Please, they’re going to kill him!” She looked up at her big brother. Her world was being ripped apart, but Sokka wouldn’t look at her. “Please, Sokka! Please! I can’t lose him again! I can’t...I can’t—!”

Her big brother set his jaw and said nothing, but his grip shook the barest bit.

A broken sound—a long keen like a wounded wolf’s howl—dragged itself out of Katara. She wanted to fight, but even her body was letting her lose him.

Lose him.

She was losing him.

“Sokka, I...I promised...I promised...”

Lightning flashed white-hot scars across the blackened sky and cracked Katara’s eardrums like a whip against her back.

Katara’s element called to her in every sheet of rain flooding the ground in inches of water, but she was trapped behind dirty glass, helpless to the drug humming with laugher just beneath her skin.

She kicked Sokka where it hurt, but even when Katara fought free, she couldn’t pick herself up off the ground.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair.

Appa paced and pawed the mountain. He softly groaned, his eyes searching.

He...He promised.

Katara fought to move her head enough to face the cave entrance. She panted, too confined, too enclosed, like she was being compressed into her own skin.

Aang...

Her other half was missing.

He was in danger.

He was alone.

She needed to get him back—she had to. Everything would be okay if she just got him back.

She always brought him back.

She tried to picture his smile, but the memory didn’t carry the warmth that he did.

The broken sound dragged itself out of Katara again, and, this time, it broke her apart and dragged her pieces with it.

“No....No, no, no...Please, n-no...Please...”

Mud and rain touched her tongue, and Katara didn’t know who or what to curse anymore when still her element wouldn’t come to her. It mocked her like a million devils and burned her with just as many hateful glares when she dug into what wasn’t there and dragged herself forward a few inches.

...Suki gathered her into a submission hold and scooped her into the saddle.

The shredded parts of Katara that had held on to something like hope were torn off and left to bleed out.

“No...” Katara clawed Suki, the saddle, and anything else she could reach. “No—N-No...” 

Aang—He needed her. He needed help. 

When next the mountain roared, what was left of Katara’s heart tore into pieces as fine as ashes. 

Aang...She heard him.

He was hurt. 

He needed her.

He was stupid.

He was alone.

He was scared.

He was her best friend, and she wasn’t going to leave him. 

She promised. 

Appa whuffled a concerned sound when Suki pinned Katara prone in the saddle to halt her next escape attempt, but the ground giving way gave him no choice but to fly.

There was a last crumble of stone like a god falling out of the sky.

There was a plume of dust and dirt that stole the space in Katara’s lungs.

And then...nothing.

The mountain—The mountain was gone, swallowed into the ocean with the rest of the peninsula.

It was gone.

He was gone.

But he...he...

Suki tried to console her even as she fought back her own tears. Sokka sat beside her and squeezed her hand so hard that she couldn’t feel her fingers.

Katara’s limbs were filled with lead, and she slowly sank, like through quicksand, into something cold and dark that reminded her of nightmares and flirts with death. She was at the bottom of the ocean, and she was being crushed alive.

Her ears rang, her insides became more slush than bone, and the wind howled and beat them like it was mourning its last master.

Breathing was no longer a passive function, and Katara had to remember her children just to convince herself to fill her lungs again.

Her children.

Their children.

The emptiness was a pit in her chest that sat on her with the weight of a mountain, and it was swallowing Katara whole.

“You…” Katara hiccupped and pressed herself into the waterlogged saddle like she might be able to hide there. Her voice was the crunch of glass underfoot, and the whole of her shook like she was freezing to death. “You p-promised…”

The hole in her chest where her heart once was tightened its inky-black chains around her. Her insides rang hollow, and ice crept in frozen webs just beneath her skin. She was numb. She was floating—She was falling—, but Katara kept fighting anyways.

Her only moment of peace came when Suki chi-blocked her.

Unconsciousness was a blessing, and Katara welcomed it like she was sprinting towards it.

This was all just a nightmare. It had to be.

She would wake up, roll over so she was buried even deeper in his arms, and smile as he mumbled a sleepy ‘I love you’ and lazily kissed her hair.

Because Aang promised.

“I guess this means we’ll always be together.”

...And she thought Aang would never break a promise.

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.

.

...🥺

aka the “Katara: the Last Airbender” AU that I have equal parts love and hate for. Aang dies protecting the world—and, more importantly, Katara and his family—when Tenzin is a baby, so Katara has to teach Tenzin airbending from what she learned/remembers from Aang. Being his sparring partner made her the best—and now only—resource for airbending, but she knew more than most people realized. She knew Aang better than anyone. His every facet was a mirror and a duplicate embossed into her own. She gave Aang his own Kataango but with airbending, after all, and learning his way of interacting with the world made her connection with him all the deeper. (Sokka was the better storyteller, though, and Katara could only hope that he could tell the three lights of her life about their father without summoning tears at the mere mention of their good times like she did.)

Btw If you heard a loud crack, that was my heart breaking🙃

I HOPE YOU’RE HAPPY, ANON

[the-mandalorian-clone-lover]

Aces in Spaces Chapter 25

I’m literally. So Excited. For you guys. To read this. :DDDDD

So. Roman and Erica are getting into some aggressive negotiations around their fifth year anniversary and Butcher is fangirling (fanboying?) so hard

Tags: @agent-450​ @sunshinepascal​ @rentskenobi​ @princessxkenobi​ @maybege​ @obaby-wan​

Masterlist

Photos under the cut!

(also I know he has a ring on in the picture but they haven’t exchanged rings yet shhhhh)

She’s panting, the music still pulsing in the background and the bodies are littering the floor around her. She sends a prayer of thanks heavenward that she talked Roman out of heels for the night, it would have made the affair they just concluded much more difficult. Her eyes begin searching for him then, she knows he’ll be standing but she lost track of him during the scuffle (and that’s what it was, she barely got enough resistance to call it a fight, let alone a bar fight). She finds him then, throwing the last punch into his opponent’s face before grabbing the back of their clothes and slamming their head into the table and letting go to let them fall to the floor in a heap. His eyes shoot up then, searching and she starts walking towards him. Stalking almost, she realizes, but it doesn’t matter, she’s made a decision just now and nothing is going to stop her from telling him. A groan that slips into a cry of pain splits the air as she walks, taking extra care to stomp on those unfortunate enough to move as she passes. She’s a woman on a mission and she sees the way Roman’s pupils are blown wide when she finally reaches him. She yanks his jacket to pull him into her and her voice is deep and firm and full of promise as she nearly growls into the lack of space between them

“Yes. Yes I will marry you and I swear to God I’ll never want anyone but you, never think of anyone the way I do of you, never leave your side, never let you go, always have your back and always keep you safe.” Her voice breaks at the end but her eyes never leave his, she vaguely notes that his are now glassy, but she knows her own are too and she can’t help but start gasping for breath as his hands find her face and his eyes crinkle at the corners.

“YES, YES YES!!!!!!”

Both of them are torn from the tenderness of the moment and turn to face the new threat, shoulders pressed together in a unified front before Roman slumps “Oh, it’s just Butcher”.

Butcher’s enthusiasm however hasn’t wavered in the slightest as he barrels his way across the room (no doubt taking the same lack of care to avoid the bodies that Erica did, and nearly careens into them with a (practically shouted) “I’ve taken the class, we can do it now, no need to wait she practically already said her vows!!”

Their brows furrow as one then, and together they glance at one another before looking back to Butch, “Class?”

“Yes, yes,” he assures hurriedly “I’m sure we can find some flowers or something, Hannah will be disappointed not to be a bridesmaid” He’s already walking towards the bar, reaching for the vase behind the counter “But I’m sure she’ll understand given the circumstances” he turns back to them holding the, what appear to be lilies, and walks back to Erica to hand them to her before turning to Roman.

“Well now Roman, that won’t do.” He says with a frown, reaching out to fix the suit jacket of the man in question, dusting his shoulders off before standing straight again and clapping his hands together. “Now, do you, Roman Stanton take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

The spell that had suspended them both during the entirety of his spiel seems broken now and they glance at each other before Erica speaks “But” her eyes search the floor desperately before circling back to him with an open mouth “You took a class to be-

“An ordained minister yes.” Butch cuts in “Hannah said it was cute when I told her I’d done it, it’s been awhile but I shouldn’t need to renew quite yet, should be good.”

Erica laughs then, smile emerging before turning to Roman and raising her eyebrows “Well? Do you?”

“Oh, God yes” the words leave his mouth on an exhale and he’s grabbing Erica’s face to slam his lips into hers. There’s a finality to it, as if it were the last they’d ever share but Butch cuts in with a

“I’m not done” that can’t be ignored and they separate reluctantly. He’s eyeing them both like a parent who’s caught their child with a hand in the cookie jar but they can’t bring themselves to be anything but giddy now, Erica’s looped both of her arms around Roman’s one and tucked herself into his side and he’s holding onto her with his other hand.

“You have to let me finish or it won’t count” Butch says calmly “I read that part over and over, looking for loopholes but it’s the facts”.

They both laugh at this and Roman brushes his nose against Erica’s when she turns to him, a disgusting show of affection he knows but they’re about to be married for God’s sake.

“I do” he breaths out finally, eyes never leaving hers, “forever”. She smiles at him then and it’s filling her eyes, the joy that he knows she feels and then Butch cuts in again.

“And do you Ms. Erica, take Roman Stanton to be your lawfully wedded husband?” She blinks so he adds “I know you already said your vows, but I still have to ask.” By way of explanation.

Her eyes flit all across Roman’s face, his nose, how sharp it is, his eyes, how blue they are, his cheeks, how positively rosy this whole exchange has made them, and pecks his lips as fast as she can before turning to grin at Butch, “I do, forever but twice.” She turns her grin on Roman “Because I’m taller than you, so I have the physical capacity to love you more”. She laughs as she finishes and Butcher can’t hardly contain himself because that’s his favorite of all their inside jokes and he’s literally about to bust from the happiness that he gets to be the one to seal the deal for them both.

“Then I pronounce you husband and--- OH NO.”

Both of them turn worried looks to him, bodies once again tensing for a fight before he manages in a voice full of horror “We don’t have any witnesses!!!”

Roman, ever the problem solver, immediately drops Erica’s hand and turns toward the pile that lays just beside them, “How many do we need?” He inquires pragmatically, already reaching to sort through who is the most conscious at the moment.

“Well, minimum two but if there’s more we could call them the wedding party” Butcher says in a voice that really says he’d rather have anyone else be their witnesses but he can’t bear to let the moment pass.

Roman nods and begins hauling them up one by one to lay against the chairs, pausing before Erica comes along and begins cuffing them together with their own handcuffs. He stops to grab her head and kiss her temple gently, “One mind my love” he starts “and one heart, husband” she finishes, packing the most love into one gaze that Butchers ever seen and he has to shake himself together to start helping Roman with the stacking. It doesn’t take more than a light smack to wake each one, and Butcher shoos Roman and Erica back toward their original spot before giving the four men that are awake a stern glare.

“Your sole purpose here is to exist, get any smart ideas and I have no problem gagging you. It says you have to witness, which only involves your eyes being open, nothing else is guaranteed.”

He turns back to Roman and Erica with a megawatt smile and decides he can abbreviate a little.

“Roman, do you take her?”

Roman pauses, “You aren’t going to do it all again?” he seems almost mournful, his lips merging into a pout.

Butch is plunging ahead, not waiting for anyone to change their mind. “Do you, Roman Stanton, take Ms. Erica to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Roman pauses again and Butch about has a heart attack before Roman speaks “Can you ask her first this time? Are there rules about the order?”

Butch blinks, not that he knew of, at any rate, if they both agreed then it probably didn’t matter the order. He starts again, “Do you, Ms. Erica, take Roman Stanton to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

She looks to Roman, face full of love, patiently waiting for the reason of his request to reveal itself, “I do, forever and ever.”

Roman smiles back, kissing her cheek before gazing back at Butch with a gleam in his eye, raising his eyebrows urging him to ask the question.

“Do you, Roman Stanton, take Ms. Erica to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

There’s a groan of discomfort from somewhere in the pile before the sound of someone being kicked also occurs and another voice hisses out a ‘Shhhhhh, it’s just getting good’

Roman bites his lip before pulling away from Erica, stepping up into the chair that was forgotten in the scuffle. “I do, forever and ever and ever, because I’m currently bigger than you and have the capacity to love you more.”

Butcher has died and gone to heaven. He’s doubtless there’s anything more beautiful than the scene before him (except Hannah in the morning, hair askance and laid across his chest), Roman is smiling down at Erica like there’s no one in the world more beautiful and Erica is smiling up at Roman with the fondness she’s grown in throughout their relationship. The soft lighting in the room is making them both look like angels, and its only interrupted by the soft clapping that comes from the pile of witnesses. Butch is about to turn a glare to them before Roman hops down to sweep Erica into his arms and he remembers he has one more thing to say.

“I pronounce you Husband and Wife. Now you can kiss”

There’s a ‘Finally!’ from somewhere in the pile but no one gives it any credence and Roman is leaning into her and she’s throwing her arms around his neck and he’s spinning her around and they’re laughing together and Butch knows unquestionably that he won’t see anything more beautiful until he sees Hannah pregnant, and later holding their baby but right now, they’re gorgeous, forever.

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

[adangerousbond]

The End is the Beginning

Chapter two

I was sad that there wasn't a new episode, so somehow that turned into a 5k chapter for this story, still may only be a two shot, or more, depending on how my time goes, but I have a bit of an outline for a 3rd chapter already, so that is pretty likely. Are we all doing okay? Did we survive the first week? I am so grateful for all the amazing feedback I go on the first chapter, I appreciate it so much and definitely encourages me to keep writing, so thanks! As usual, written out pretty quickly and on no sleep with no proof reading, so you could be in for anything. 

Read below at ff.net or at AO3

They were onto the third movie before any further interruptions, bar the occasional question here and there from Kora, who seemed just as awed by the improvements made to movie making as Daniel. May had surprised Daisy by being able to answer more questions than she could, and she quickly decided that May was a fan of Disney movies, and somehow, she had never found out about this particular fact until now.

"Alright, at least go pretend to be getting some rest," Coulson told the group as he entered the darkened room, grinning at the scene ahead of him and not quite sure which part was his favourite.

"But Dad," Daisy jokingly complained, gently waking Daniel up nonetheless, the latter blinking away the confusion for a moment, gaining more confusion at the added guests since he was last awake.

Rising up, she could feel the soreness to her muscles, both from her fight and from sitting still for so long; from doing too much and too little, but at least it was a feeling. She caught Coulson's eye, and knew he was holding back some sort of comment or question, but clearly deciding it wasn't the time or place, so she made no move to draw it out, passing by him instead with a soft smile as Daniel followed close behind silently.

"May, a word," Coulson stated as the others were nearly out, evidently wanting to speak to the other agent alone, something that seemed normal enough to everyone accept Kora, who stilled in the hallway, worried the conversation was regarding her.

"Regardless of what they or you decide, they won't kick you out and they won't hand you over to someone else, they don't give up on people," Daisy paused for a moment to ease her sisters concerns, getting a weak smile in return, "I should know that better than anyone here."

Her sister nodded in response, continuing on her way to wherever May had set her up in or just somewhere to clear her head, Daisy wasn't quite sure on the answer, but it didn't seem pressing to know right now, she knew she would be safe and that was all that she needed to know. A hand came to her back, guiding her forward, as she realised that they were still standing in the empty hallway.

Heading back to her room, she felt his hesitation as they neared,

Quiet took over the room quick enough, Daniel falling back asleep easy enough; knowing she was alive and well next to him and that they were safe in the base, making it infinitely easier. A part of her was jealous that he could sleep, the part of her begging for more sleep that was, but mostly, she was just glad that he was able to finally rest, and that maybe it was her turn to watch out over him.

Sitting hunched over reading her tablet, she couldn't help but keep checking that the man asleep next to her was alive and breathing, that he wasn't just a figment of her imagination. She had debated trying to go back to sleep as the time dragged on, but the constant running around in her mind, told her that she wouldn't stand a chance at sleeping.

The humming in her veins and the crawling feeling on her skin, became all too much, she had wanted to clean up for a while, but she knew a shower would wake her body up fully, and while she wasn't sleeping, she still felt like she was resting. Checking her phone, and realising that it was nearly an acceptable time around the base to be up, she decided that she couldn't wait any longer and headed for the shower.

Slipping back into her bunk, she felt as if she had managed to scrub a layer of skin off, but still hadn't quite managed to scrub off the entire feeling of death. Glancing around, she realised that Daniel must have woken and gotten a similar plan as herself, or he had gone looking for her, either way,

"Morning," he greeted warmly as he re-entered the room, looking cleaned and refreshed, telling her he had had the same idea.

"Hmm," she responded absentmindedly, immediately leaning onto his side as he sat beside her.

She didn't quite understand the part of her seeking the contact, seeking his warmth, she had after all, spent most of life pushed aside, without anyone that she trusted would be around long enough for her to reach out for that comfort. But right now, it was about the only thing that made her feel fully alive, that made her forget that she had had died the day prior.

Facing him, she traced her hand along the side of his face, she felt him still slightly at the touch, she could feel his heart beating, she could feel hers beating, reminding her they were alive, reminding her they had won, and that they were here; together. Bringing her lips to his, she started slow, savouring the moment, the calmness to the room that had started her pace, quickly diminishing as she felt a heat rising deep inside, a heat that was working well to chase away the cold memory of space.

Shifting herself so that she was straddling him, she hummed in approval as his hands made there way under her top and started exploring across her skin. She pushed him back down onto the bed, chasing the feeling of alive that their contact seemed to bring, right now she felt so far from death, so far from the feeling of loneliness and disappear that clouded her few memories of floating through space.

A knock at her door broke them apart instantly, him dropping his hands and freezing silently in his position on the bed, as she sat up straight, leaning on her thighs either side of him, waiting to establish who and why the interruption. The annoyance fading as she smirked at his worry about being caught out, but she could see under the worry that he was annoyed at the interruption just as much as she was.

"Sousa, get decent and come give me a hand," Mack's voice rattled through the door, his sure tone holding a hint of amusement as well.

"He'll just be a minute," Daisy responded, grinning the moment that she stopped talking, trying not to laugh, standing up to let the man in question right himself.

Sitting at the bench next to Alya, Daisy listened as the little girl rambled on to her father about the night before, as he listened as if it was the most interesting story he had ever been told. She grinned at her friend, at how good a father he was, he was the type of father that she would have given anything to have had growing up, not that it surprised her, she always knew her friends would make amazing parents one day.

"You cook now?" she asked as he placed a plate of waffles in front of her that actually looked pretty edible.

"Picked up a few things over the years," Fitz explained, head tilted towards the reason with a large smile.

"It's so crazy that it was barely any time for us but years for you's," she mused back, toying with her food for a moment, debating if she could eat or not, the smell winning out and she took a small bite.

"At least it was more than a few hours for you," Flint spoke up as he entered the kitchen, making his way over to join with a hungry look on his face, "got any spare?"

"It went quick, especially once we had this little monkey," Fitz responded to the younger boy, putting a plate together from him as well, twice the size of the other twos.

"I bet," Daisy agreed, managing a couple more mouthfuls of food that her body seemed to accept better than the first, almost as if it needed to be reminded that it did in fact still need nourishment.

"We have so many stories to tell you all, and so many videos to share," Fitz told her, he knew that the team had missed out on so much of his daughters life so far, and that they would all want to know everything, it was something that Jemma had been saddened by, not getting to share it with the rest of their weird family, almost more than their actual blood family.

"How are you settling in?" Daisy asked her sister, dropping down to sit next to her in Zephyr One's cockpit, it had taken her a while to find her, and she realised now, that the plane probably felt like simultaneously like her best bet to escape, and her link to staying, much like she had felt about the Bus.

"So far so good, May has been very helpful," Kora smiled warmly, relaxing slightly at her sister's caring tone, "surprisingly."

"She's good like that, regardless of what she says," Daisy told her, staring out into the base, almost as if searching for the person in question.

"I hope, I hope you don't mind that I'm still here," Kora fidgeted over her words, worried that she had blown her shot, worried that her last link to anyone might be too damaged.

"I don't, honestly," Daisy tried to make her believe her, knowing how much the feeling of being unwanted could eat you up inside.

"I just want the chance to get to know you, to make up for everything I did," her sister explained, not meeting her eye, and she wanted to tell her that she understood, that she had been in similar situations, seeking forgiveness and seeking connection, even when she didn't realise that it was what she was looking at the time.

"You brought me back to life, that's a good start," she told her, choosing to go a simpler route for now, not entirely sure she was up for going to deep into her past just yet, not when she was only really keeping herself together enough to keep moving forward at the moment, "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too, I want to get to know you, really," Kora smiled shyly, although technically the older sister, everything about her showed that in life and in actual years lived, she was the younger of the two, "I never knew any family outside of our mother."

"I never had any family to know," Daisy commented offhandedly, a sadness clouding her tone, and as hard as it had been, she wasn't sure if it was something she would give up her current family for.

"I-I, I wish that you knew the Jiaying that I did," Kora was silent for a moment, not quite sure how to take remark, choosing to stick with honesty if she wanted to get anywhere.

"I got to a little bit, that's more than I thought I would," Daisy told her kindly, she was even more grateful that Daniel had pushed her to talk to her mother, with how things turned out, "but no, I was meaning that I'm happy to get the chance to get to know my sister too."

"Daisy, a minute?" Jemma interrupted as they approached control.

"Sorry, probably more tests," Daisy smiled at her sister apologetically, catching her friends desire to talk alone.

"Is everything okay?" Kora asked, concerned that she had done something wrong when bringing her back to life.

"Yes, yes, everything's fine," Jemma pushed aside the younger woman's concern with a bright smile, practically dragging the other into a nearby empty room.

"What's up?" Daisy questioned her friend, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion over the actions.

"I just wanted to talk to you, about everything, well, mainly about one little, big thing in particular. It's hard, but ultimately it's the right decision, and I just wanted talk it over with you first, I think you'll agree but," Jemma rambled on, skirting around the topic she had cornered her for, clearly not sure how to start.

"Your leaving, aren't you? You, Fitz and Alya are going to your happy ever after, right?" Daisy spoke quietly, saving her friend from herself, she had been expecting it, and truthfully, she got it, but it still stung deep inside.

"Yeah, yeah, how did you guess? Did Fitz say something already?" Jemma paused, surprised, and worried that she had found out some other way.

"You have your serious, sad face on, it was either that or I was dying again, and I was hoping that wasn't it," Daisy explained, smirking to hide the rising emotion that she was trying her hardest to keep down, as much as it hurt, her friends did deserve this more than anything.

"Oh, right, yes, well, we just want Alya to have as normal a life as she can, we don't want to leave, but-," Jemma stated back on the speech that she had prepared earlier, only to be cut off by her friend pulling her in for a tight hug.

"It's the right thing to do for her," Daisy agreed as she pulled back, wiping a stray tear away, "when?"

"That's the thing," Jemma toyed with her words again, and Daisy knew she wouldn't be ready for whatever the answer, "tomorrow."

"But that's, that's so soon?" Daisy stated, she definitely wasn't ready for that.

"We will still help out on things from afar, but we just, we can't keep doing it anymore, and we don't want her at risk more than she already has been," Jemma brushed aside her own tear, knowing that it was right and that her friend would understand, but still upset about the whole thing.

"Hey, no one has seen you in a while," Daniel broke the silence of her bunk, taking her in as he closed the door behind him.

"I just needed some quiet," Daisy stared straight ahead, paying him no attention as he sat next to her on the bed, taking her hand in silent comfort.

"I know it won't be the same, but they'll still be in your life," he told her gently, guessing the reason for her hiding away correctly.

"Will they though? I mean we'll still talk now and then, probably text and email each other for a while, but that will fade and eventually, we'll just be the people who occasionally catch up and barley know who each other is anymore," she responded sadly, a part of her knowing that they would still be in her life, that he was right, but that part was far from the loudest in her mind right now.

"What you have been through together, all of you, that bonds people in ways that even if you don't talk as much as you do now, you will always be close, no matter the physical distance," he tried a different approach, his hand reaching for hers as he watched her closely.

"Ugh, I hate that I'm even mad about it, I know it's the best thing for Alya, but it's," she blinked away a tear as she looked down, almost ashamedly.

"It's bringing up some things," he finished for her, squeezing her hand softly, Mack had warned him that she had been hurt, but he had guessed that she had probably been hurt more than either had even realised.

"I should be used to it by now, everyone always ends up leaving, walking away, dying," she gave him a sad smile, not wanting to drop all the thoughts running through her head on him, but something about his presence, made it hard to stop talking, "this team, they're the only people that have suck by me, and for so long, I guess I got used to it, which is something I've told myself not to do since I was a kid."

"You still have them," his words sure, he mightn't know a lot about the world he lived in now, but one thing he knew for certain was that this team had her back.

"For how long, they're all slowly going to go off to do their own things, live their own lives," she knew she had them, but for how long, how long until it was back to her by herself, trying to pretend she was okay with being lonely, even if she wasn't sure she could even pretend that these days, "hell, even you and Kora, it's only a matter of time before even you two decide there's bigger and better things, less complicated things, out there."

"Kora wants to be in your life, she clearly wants to be just like her big sister, or little sister? Not sure how that works?" he told her honestly, focusing on the easier part of her sentence, before turning more serious, "and me, Daisy, you have me, I'm not going anywhere."

"You can't say that, you were just offering yourself up to stay in a different timeline like yesterday," she fired up, not accepting his words, not when she was terrified both that they were true, and that she might just want to believe them.

"So that you would live," he gave her hand a light squeeze, glad when she didn't pull away, because he had no other answer to give.

"That's not fair," she growled in response, he had been ready to say goodbye to her, to leave her, and even though deep down, she got it, she was still angry at him for it.

"Neither is you killing yourself to save us all, but we would both do it again and we both know it," he reasoned, a little too well for her liking, "I know better to promise that I won't die, though, technically I am already dead, but you've got me, if that's what you want."

"You can't say that, you can't promise that, not when you barely know me, you don't know the horrible things I've done, a lot of which that hasn't been for the greater good," she responded dryly, she wasn't sure she had forgiven herself for a lot of the things she's done, and she was definitely not sure how someone like him would take them.

"You're right, I don't know all of what you've done, but I know –" he started, his voice even and honest.

"-My type?" she guessed, a conversation from a long-ago time loop popping into her mind.

"I know you, or at least the parts you have been prepared to show me," he told her, pausing before gaining the words to continue, needing to make her listen and understand, to believe him, "I know the you that has had my back this whole time, the part that listened to me complain about Hydra and being pulled out of my timeline, the part that joked around with me, the part that managed to put a shard of glass under your skin to get us out of that barn, the part that was prepared to do a Hail Mary into space to save her friends, and the part that even though you've been hurt countless times before, you're still prepared to let me in, if only a little."

Watching him closely, she knew he was giving her a chance to take his words in, letting her decide on her next move, her next issue to raise. Choosing to decide that tomorrow was another issue, that maybe she was setting herself up for more pain, but that maybe, just maybe, that she was actually in for more pain if she pushed him away completely, she kissed him, her tongue slipping into his mouth and deepening the kiss before he had fully caught her decision, pulling herself into his embrace as much as she could once he did.

Responding with the same favour, trying to convey his words now in touch, trying to convince her that he was here for her, that he wasn't going anywhere and that for him, she was enough. He pushed her backwards onto the pillow, his shirt being dragged back over his shoulders before he had even realised that she had undone his buttons.

"Is this when you get all gentleman-y and stop to make sure this is allowed?" she smirked at him as he pulled back, both taking the chance to catch their breath for a moment.

"I was just going to ask if the door locks," he responded, huskier than usual, glancing towards the door for a moment.

"Oh, everyone around here knocks," she told him, not wanting him to get up and lock the door, pulling him back in for another quick kiss, "and if they don't, it's really their own fault."

"But," he started, resting his forehead on hers for a moment, "you are okay with this?"

"Definitely," she flipped them over, both to prove her point and speed up the slow pace that he seemed to be setting, he was relishing in the fact she was alive, whereas she needed to feel alive.

By the time they had redressed and headed to find the others, they had only just made it in time for the last team dinner, a going away of sorts for the Fitzsimmons family. Joining them all quietly at the table, Daisy made especially sure to avoid the smirk she had caught May sending her as they entered, choosing instead to make small talk with Piper, who was more than used to not being caught up on everything.

Midway through a conversation with Jemma and Alya, she realised that Daniel and Fitz were fast becoming friends, as she paused to smile at their animated conversation, she caught the attention of Jemma, the both grinning at the sight. The happiness quickly clouded in sadness as she remembered that the new friendship would be short lived, in this form anyway.

By the end of the dinner, no one was quite ready to leave, quite ready for it to be over, not only because that meant it was closer to Fitz and Jemma leaving, but also because they all knew it was just the start, that soon enough others would start leaving until they all had. This was the start of the end for the team, and no one was quite ready to admit that.

The next morning, they had all managed to stagger their goodbyes with the three, Daisy having waited purposely near the vehicle bay, to ensure that she would get her goodbye, but also, in an attempt to delay it as much as possible. Watching them approach for the last time in an unknown amount of time, she tried to stay as positive to them as possible, knowing that it was the best think for their child and them.

After saying their goodbyes, Fitz took Alya off to the car, leaving the two best friends a moment to each other, whether Jemma had requested it or not, Daisy was thankful for the chance. Hugging each other tightly, they both let the tears run freely, after everything that they had been through together, after every mission, every death, and every memory since they had gotten on that bus as near kids, now they were parting as sisters and they both knew that they would try like anything to keep in as constant contact as they possibly could.

Entering the kitchen after the goodbyes with Flint in tow and ready for her distraction plan, Daisy was glad to see that the two she had requested to meet her there, were sitting waiting, talking politely with each other. She smiled to herself, glad that they were getting along regardless of what had gone down, both trying to make an effort with another person they saw as important in her life.

"I've set these up super basic for you both, I've put my number in as the emergency contact, and I've put everyone's details in too," Daisy informed them, hand an iPhone to the of them both, as Flint placed a box with various needed cords next to them both.

"So, we can call each other wherever we are?" Kora asked, gathering from her limited knowledge, turning the phone over in her hand a few times, as if trying to work out how they work exactly.

"And take photos," Daniel told her, remembering a moment in an alley that brought a smile to his face, regardless of what had come next.

"Really? With this?" Kora asked, the confusion clear, as she worked out at the very least how to make the screen light up, showing Daniel too.

"Oh man, this is worse than I thought it would be," Flint groaned, he had taken to the technology in this time like a fish to water, probably helped by the fact he had come from the future, not the past, and had thought it might be entertaining when Daisy had asked him to help her, but now he wasn't so sure.

"Yes, you can call, video chat, or text from it," Daisy started out simple, grinning at the blank looks she got in response.

"Text?" Kora asked, trying to slide the screen up to get into it, having between the two found the message on the screen telling them too.

"Like an email but quicker and easier," Flint explained further, realising his mistake when neither seemed to understand any better.

"Email?" Daniel sounded more confused than ever, turning his phone asking for a passcode to Daisy.

"Your passwords are your birthyear," she told them with a grin, she had debated letting them choose their own, but then decided that this option was more amusing, and by the chuckle he gave her in response, he understood her reasoning.

"An instant letter to your phone?" Flint tried once again, sitting down in defeat after it didn't help them much more.

"I'll just show you," Daisy stepped in, pulling out her own phone and sending them both a message separately, and then decided to take a photo and send it to them both, creating a group message she was pretty sure she would end up regretting.

"Wow!" Daniel exclaimed, tapping on the notification, and managing to bring up the message screen.

"That's so cool," Kora agreed, playing around for a moment until she worked out how to respond back, the other's phones buzzing with the new message and Daisy knew that she was definitely going to regret that group message.

"Okay, so do you both think you have enough of an idea to at least call one of us?" Daisy questioned the group after a while, receiving apprehensive nods in response.

"Now we move onto social media," Flint stated, receiving a grin from May as she entered the room and caught the end of the sentence.

"No, no we don't," Daisy told him, that was not something the two in training were ready for, and probably not something the world was ready for yet either.

"What's that?" Kora asked, intrigued, as she swiped across the screens looking for something she had missed.

"Facebook, Instagram, snapchat, twitter, TicToc, the question is which one first?" Flint mused, pretending to think hard on the subject.

"None, none first," Daisy shook her head, smirking at May who joined them at the table without a word.

"I could see Kora getting behind TicToc, and you Daniel, I think you're more of an Instagram, or maybe twitter," Flint decided after a moment, grinning at them trying to find an app on their phones matching anything close to what he had mentioned.

"Is that good or bad?" Daniel asked the group, placing his phone down in front of him.

"What's TicToc?" Kora questioned too.

"That is a lesson for another day," Daisy stated, trying to get them to drop it.

"Where's the fun in that," Flint protested, deciding on a middle ground, "can we at least teach them about YouTube?"

"I don't think it is safe to set them loose on the internet with strangers just yet," Daisy laughed, sharing a grin with May on the thought.

"You just don't want them finding out about online shopping and judging your problem," Flint countered, smirking at her as he spoke.

"Online is safer for us," Daisy glared at the teenager, explaining her reasoning.

"Online shopping sounds pretty self-explanatory, and something I could get behind," Kora grinned, enjoying the ease that the afternoon had held with her sister.

"Free shipping is everything," Daisy agreed for a moment, before continuing, "but there's a lot to learn before we get you to that point."

"Yeah, like clickbait, and viruses, scams, oh, can't forget about trolls," Flint added on, accepting that the phone lesson was over for the day and the internet was another day issue.

"Firewalls?" Daniel questioned the word he had heard Daisy say numerous times now while on her computer.

"They're only an issue if you want to do less than legal things," Flint stated, receiving another glare from the only one at the table that really did anything with them.

"And not something you need to know about for a long time," Daisy pointed out after a moment, reaching down into the bag she had brought and placing a tablet in front of them now instead, "anyway, we have these next."

"Why do we need another phone?" Daniel asked honestly, he had yet to see or hear about something that the phone he had couldn't do.

"It's not a phone," Daisy smiled, enjoying this little lesson in technology more than she thought she would.

"It looks just like a bigger phone," Kora stated, turning it over to investigate as she did with the phone.

"That's basically all it is," May shrugged, not helping the situation at hand.

"Just better because it's bigger?" Kora asked, her head tilted like a dog trying to work something out.

"It's not about the size," Daisy told them, the question reminding her of the time Daniel suggested using a bigger computer to hack, complaining her laptop was tiny.

"It's always about the size," Kora grinned in response, gaining a chuckle from May.

"Is that why, you know what, never mind, I don't want to know the answer," Daisy was thrown for a moment at the inuendo from her sister, choosing, finally, just to get back to the topic, "it's a tablet, it's kind of a cross between a phone and a computer."

"What does it do that a phone doesn't?" Kora smiled at her sisters stammering, feeling like it was an actual normal sister moment.

"Nothing really," May piped up, once again not helping the situation, but evidently holding some annoyance to the amount of technology she was forced to use.

"Anyway, these are linked to the S.H.I.E.L.D network, so you can access files, search things or follow current missions, not that there's much on there at the moment," Daisy explained, focusing the group back to the task, "I've programmed it so that you can't accidently delete or change things at all as well."

"So, you put them on read-only mode?" May nodded in approval, "that's a good idea."

"To search is very similar to the phone, just press the little magnifying glass," Daisy started teaching, half the reason she had wanted them to learn to use it was so that she could leave them to their own devices to learn about S.H.I.E.L.D. since their times, and her, if she was being honest, "yep, like that and then type in something, just type my name for now."

"Why does he have more come up than me?" Kora questioned, trying to work out where she had gone wrong.

"His is set to a higher level than yours," Daisy answered nonchalantly.

"Oh," her sister responded, obviously dismayed at the reason, but accepted it, nonetheless.

"Not because we don't trust you or anything, just you've never actually been in S.H.I.E.L.D. or had any training or anything with us, whereas Daniel was the chief at area 51," Daisy explained further realising how she took it, "I figured that gave him a bit higher clearance."

"Does that mean I have higher clearance than you?" Daniel piped up, grinning at her statement.

"Well, she was the fill in director once," May pointed out, shrugging at the information that was old news to her.

"Really?" Daniel asked, initially surprised at the comment, but as he thought about it, it did make sense.

"Not for very long, and it didn't go the best," Daisy laughed, brushing the information aside quickly.

"So, you outrank us all?" Kora questioned, smiling at her sister.

"Don't forget it," Coulson responded for her as he joined them, clearly having come looking for them, "we need to do a supply run."

"Daniel and I'll go in the morning," Daisy offered, jumping at the idea of getting out of the Lighthouse, and getting the chance to introduce Daniel to her time period.

"Can I come too?" Kora asked reservedly, worried for the rejection she might get, "I wouldn't mind getting out of here for a bit, seeing what the world is like now."

"Of course," Daisy agreed instantly, nodded assuredly to her sister.

"I'm coming too," Flint stated, he was always down for a chance to explore, and he figured with two tagalongs from the past, it could make quite the interesting trip.

[tekkai]

🅿 Here's your official pass to gush about headcanons for CP-9 (ft. your insert as well if you want)! Go wild!

Thank you Anon I love you for asking. I wasn’t able to go in depth for everyone so I focussed on the few my S/I is closest with. ;^; 

Lucci 

Lucci is an impossibly light sleeper and grows irritable due to his disrupted sleep schedule. He’s seldom able to sleep soundly through the night and attempts to recover by napping throughout the day. 

With the extremely specific and conscious exception of chicken, he is offended if you try to serve him any kind of fowl/poultry. He has a strong preference towards ‘red’ meats such as beef, lamb, and even game such as venison.

Obsession by Calvin Klein, or the closest in-universe alternative. In addition to bathing in Civetone, he carries the scent of brandy and sawdust. 

Hattori is more than a mascot, he is Lucci’s service animal. Most of his task serve to mitigate Lucci’s psychological needs. Among other tasks, ventriloquism is part of his work, as it allows Lucci to interact with new people in a roundabout way. Hattori can also ‘sweep’ rooms, alerting him to be certain a space is empty and easing his hypervigilance. Disrupting night terrors and providing sensory stimuli when his feeling overloaded. 

In canon we know they’ve been a team for at least 24 years. I would like to believe they’ve been together longer, prior to his arrival. I’ve thought a lot about a possible backstory for him, but we’ve been given so little in canon for me to work with it’s purely speculation. 

His father had been a no-name pirate. He left shortly after conception and the two never had any kind of relationship save for their genetics. Ironically he’d be killed by his son later in life. 

His mother was a lesser noble with a daughter from a previous marriage. As a baby he was close to his-sister,but he was so young when they died their memories are distorted. He blames the death of his family on the cowdarce of their appointed guard when their city was besieged. This is the root of his philosophy. 

Racing pigeons were an important culturally and Hattori is a descendant from his mother’s line of birds. 

Lucci is nearly legally blind. He is completely dependent on his contacts to get through the day. Caught without them however, not many people would be able to tell how much he struggles. He’s practiced in hiding his vulnerabilities and can get by without assistance by leveraging his other instincts, but he does struggle. The fact that his eye color changes significantly every time he appears is due to his colored lenses.  

Lucci was given the epithet of Massacre Weapon and conditioned to see himself as a tool. He holds himself to an impossible standard and values his worth based solely on his objective usefulness. 

He would never admit it to anyone, but he identifies with the local stray cats. Wherever he locates he makes a point to feed and look after the ferals in the area. He’s absolutely blown his cover once or twice confronting anyone stupid enough to harass a colony he’d been overlooking. 

Lucci honestly believes he’s working towards a more peaceful world. He does have a ravenous bloodlust, but if that was his only need, he’s strong enough to go rogue.  Lucci does not need his license to kill. The only reason he’s remained complaint to the WG’s needs is because they align with his own vision. 

Kaku

Kaku and Usopp both originated in the East Blue, have a natural affinity for working ships and are canonically mistaken for one another. I’m not about to claim a direct relation but I don’t think distant cousins would be out of the question or improbable. Kaku was an orphan taken in by WG and underwent intense programing to model him into the agent he is today. It would be reasonable to assume any record of his life before the government got a hold of him would be purged. I don’t think it’ll ever be a plot point but I just like this theory. 

Kaku may be the next young prodigy of the group, but he is also the designated baby/baby brother. As an unit it’s just universally accepted that he get’s a ‘pass’, especially in regards to Lucci. 

Ussop was able to antagonize Lucci twice after the the Leopard Man had brutalized others for less. It’s a subconscious reaction adn Lucci probably doesn’t even realize why his first instinct wasn’t to kill this pirate the moment he drew his weapon. 

He’s an effective agent but he get’s emotionally attached to places and people. Unlike Lucci who finds ideological satisfaction in his work, Kaku is loyal to CP9 due to his relationship with his colleagues. For this reason he’s a more efficient spy. 

Kaku has an aversion to alcohol. He’ll drink socially but only if it’s pushed on him.

An avid outdoorsmen. Kaku would spend everyday in the wilderness if he could get away with it. He has a secret cabin he escapes to and uses to decompress after an excessively stressful mision. 

Horses love him. Every since he was a child he’s been a natural with horses and no one can figure out why. They just instinctively adore him.

Jabra

Incredibly sensitive to chemical scents. He refuses to enter the laboratory for this very reason. 

I’ve touched on Zoan’s influencing their users in regards to Lucci before, and Jabra is no exception. Unlike Lucci however he’s happy to lean into his instincts and takes great pride in being a wolf. 

Makes really terrible dog puns. 

He prideful and arrogantly confident, but once his audience has left he’s painfully lonely. He craves a ‘pack’ and is hopeless romantic at heart. Has bounced from one failed relationship to another near constantly. 

He cares deeply about his fellow agents and views them as a kind of family.

He’s the first to throw insult or a playful jab, but the moment something is wrong he can tell. Jabra can be a jerk but he’s the best person to talk to if someone needs to vent or be comforted by. 

Claims it’s nonsense but he’s extremely superstitious. If Kalifa makes a comment about the stars aligning he makes note. 

Angel’s self proclaimed older brother.

He’s competitive to a fault. It doesn’t matter what the challenge is he needs to be the best. 

Found his Rooster as an abandoned chick and has been raising it ever since. He’s a proud father and carries photos of the bird when it can’t accompany him specifically so he can show his son off. This tactic has never once worked while he was trying to flirt with someone. 

Kalifa

She’s mildly allergic to animal fur. It’s nothing significant but she’s forced to carry allergy pills when she’s working with her Zoan colleagues. Her new abilities, however, have been a godsend in keeping the annoying fur at bay.  

More so than any of the other agents she struggles with feeling ‘good enough’. Having been born into her role she feels an immense pressure to live up to the expectation that were set for her.

Her mother was also a government agent at one point.

Collects ‘lamb’ themed objects. She doesn’t love having to be around actual farm animals (and despises Jabra’s rooster) but she finds the artistic representations of lambs aesthetically pleasing. 

Is secretly really into astrology. She’s complied full birth charts on her co-workers using what little information is available and reasonable estimating the unknowns. 

She is extensively musical trained and is by far the most talented agent in that regard. 

Angel

Not a Ciphor Pol agent. Not a government agent. Not even a marine. But since you were kind enough to include her, she’ll get a guest feature.

Angel was blessed with a powerful fruit but cursed with the lack of willpower to use it properly.

She can be friendly but it takes a long time before she can fully trust someone. 

Used the name Lucifer before settling down and trying to start a new life for herself.

She descended from the upper vearths and is confused when people down here talk about religion. To her “God” is an epithet you can earn and a position of power in the sky islands. She’d interacted with Enel and caught wind that he’d ascended and is thoroughly confused every time someone makes an offhand religious comment or sees an act of devotion, ‘cause god is kind of prick?’. She’s never commented on her confusion. When her wedding was planned to take place in a chapel she was horrified for reasons that weren’t clear to anyone else present.

Since that was the only part she had an objection to the planner in charge caved and re-scheduled the event to an outdoor venue.  

Terribly pyrophobic. Ironically the devil is not okay around an open flame. 

[friendlylocalwhumper]

part one

content warning: discussion of past child and spousal abuse.

Lux clings to her, hugs her twice more, cries. Emory is blown away by how young Lux seems, as if he’s still ten years old and his Mom loving him is the only gentle thing in the world reserved just for him. It’s amazing how he looks at her, amazing that she’s here. But Emory doesn’t understand, and he knows Lux needs to know, too.

“He told me what happened to you,” Emory starts, quiet and respectful.  “He said you died. Can you tell us what happened?”

Lux pulls away from where he leans against her side, scooting back on the couch to watch her answer avidly. She nods somberly.

“Well, I took Lux away. I wanted him safe. I waited too long, I let his father do things…” Lux tenses, his eyes hardening how they always do when he’s reminded of that man. Emory notices. “But I finally took him away. My aunt had a beautiful house in a field, I knew my baby would like the flowers, all that space to run around.”

“I loved it,” Lux offers, and gives a pained smile when she cups his cheek fondly. His mom matches that smile, tucking some stray curls behind his cheek.

“We were there for six days before his father tracked us down.”

“I thought it was longer, just a couple days?”

“Just a couple, baby. I spent every minute with you, stayed up late reading you bedtime stories. Felt longer to me too. We made the most of it.”

Emory’s heart hurts with every mention of what led to their escape attempt, and it hurts worse as he waits to hear what happened that looked so much to a young Lux like the brutal murder of his mother.

“He found us.” She already prefaced this part, but the grim words make Lux flinch dully. “He was furious. Started hitting me, and… there was blood. I was barely breathing. And Lux got dragged out, yelled at, he got hit for asking if I was dead. I couldn’t move. My baby got taken away from me and I couldn’t get to him. I’m so sorry for that, baby, I’m sorry he got you. I should’ve stopped it, should’ve kept you safe.”

Lux’s shoulders have inched upward and inward, making him smaller like his Dad just cuffed him over the head and is yelling at him for asking stupid questions. “It’s okay, I-I was okay,” He promises. He lies. Emory knows, only in tiny flashes of horrible whispered post-nightmare honesty, how bad growing up was for Lux, especially after he lost his mom. “It wasn’t your fault.”

She looks like she wants to argue, much like Lux does when he thinks that he did something to truly antagonize the people who decided on a whim to nearly beat him to death on some sidestreet. “You must want to know why I didn’t come back, though. Why I didn’t get you out when I was -”

“Nope,” Lux interrupts, shaking his head stiffly. “No, it, it doesn’t matter, it’s okay. You were scared.”

“You’re my son, I should have protected you, I should’ve earned his trust back and at least been around to see you grow up, I just -”

“I know. I get it. Mom, please stop, you don’t have to be sorry, I’m n-not him, you don’t have to be sorry.” He can see that it’s exactly what she needs to hear, that she was terrified he’d slap her and tell her to get back out of his life, so he keeps going, wrapping her up in a hug again. “Nothing to be sorry about. You were scared. He killed people. Killed people like us. A-and, and I got out. I ran away. He, h-he didn’t hurt me as much as he hurt you, I would’ve been glad you got away, glad you stayed safe. Please don’t be sorry. I’m not mad.”

Lux isn’t mad, Emory can see that. He can hear it in how Lux adds his words all up to express that convincingly, comforting and certain. He can hear it in how Lux’s mom sobs openly in relief at being forgiven. He can also see the tension wound tightly into Lux’s back, across his shoulder blades. He can hear the grief in Lux’s voice that used to weigh heavily on the loss of his mom, now settling darkly over himself, over the kid that he once was, alone with a monster and taking the beatings that used to be shared by two.

The hug breaks, and Lux’s mom wipes away her tears with a gentle laugh, and it breaks some of the tension in Lux, gets him to smile. The longer they sit together, reabsorbing each other’s presence after too long apart, the more similarities that Emory can spot. Soft eyes, unthreatening small movements, the curve of their cheeks and the set of their shoulders and the way they show each other how happy-sad-relieved they are.

“You can stay here, Mom, if you want,” Lux offers hopefully. Maybe he thinks this will only last as long as she stays in his sight, somehow alive, somehow real.

“That’s sweet of you, baby, thank you. I’m gonna stay in my hotel room, though, let you guys keep this space you have. This is a lot to take in, I don’t want to overwhelm you. As much as I just wanna hold you and hear all about how you’ve been, you’re not six years old anymore. You’re somebody else’s baby now.”

Lux blushes as she gives a pointed look to Emory. “I, I-I don’t think I introduced you two yet, this is Emory, he’s, we’re, y-yeah.” It’s just his mom, he knows - she won’t have any problem with Lux having a boyfriend, won’t loom and yell at him for being disgusting, for acting like he’s not gonna die alone, young, unwanted, abandoned…

“Lux?” She asks, rubbing his arm, and he flinches because it’s not Emory, and for some reason he feels like his Dad is here, ready to burst in and scare his mom into stepping back, leaving Lux to get grabbed by the wrist and flung into the wall.

“Wh-, what if he fi-inds us, now, now that you’re here?” Lux is spiralling, lost in old fear. “How’d you f-find me?”

Emory comes closer, comes over to the couch, and squeezes Lux’s hand to encourage him to squeeze back, to focus. “He’s dead, Curls,” Em reminds his boyfriend, trying to catch his eyes. “He’s dead. No one’s gonna find you.”

The warlock holds his breath a second, then nods quickly, squeezing back. “Yeah. Sorry. F-forgot. Uh, Mom,” He glances at her sheepishly. “He’s, D-Dad’s gone. I just. Sorry, I, I got nervy.”

Lux’s mom places a hand over her heart, incredible relief written across her face. “Gone? How do you know?”

“He tried to kill Lux,” Emory explains before Lux has to go through stammering it out and spiraling worse. “Came here looking for him. Our friend Alex found him and took him out before he could get to Lux. So Lux is safe,” He says, guiding Lux to stay focused with a kiss to his cheek, “And so are you.”

[marshmallow-phd]

Crash Course

Guardian Angels are everywhere. They look out for their charges and keep a distance. But why? What happens when they get too close? The answer is love. And between an angel and a human, it is the most forbidden connection.  

Genre: Angel!AU

Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader

Summary: Chanyeol wasn’t the most graceful angel. He could be loud, clumsy, and a little overbearing. But he usually could keep himself secret from humans. That is, until things go very wrong when you discover him in your apartment in the middle of the night....

A/N: Part 5 of the @wolveswithblackpearls angel series! (moodboard made by the adorble admin S!)

Kyungsoo I Sehun I Baekhyun I Jongin I Chanyeol I Junmyeon

**

This is what happened to Chanyeol since he wasn’t paying attention. Granted, he wasn’t the best when it came to the finer details of things like Junmyeon or Kyungsoo, but he thought he was doing a decent job in sneaking around your house quietly. Even if he did accidentally make a small noise, you wouldn’t be able to see him, right? 

All he was trying to do was scare away the real burglar. And he’d done a good job, making the potential thief think the owner of the apartment had come out and opened the sliding glass door. He’d gotten a kick out of watching the criminal scurry down the fire escape, slipping several times on the old metal steps. But Chanyeol’s concentration was completely broken when he accidentally tripped over his own feet after laughing a little too hard and sent one of your plants crashing down to the floor, breaking the terra cotta pot and spilling the soil all over your cream colored rug. He stared at the disaster he’d created. 

“Oh, no.”

He scrambled to put it all back together when he heard the creak of the box spring and careful footsteps coming from your bedroom. Debating back and forth, Chanyeol weighed his options. He could just disappear, but leaving the mess he created might cause you unnecessary panic. So did that mean he should stay? Should he let himself get caught? That was completely against the rules. He’d be in so much trouble….

Chanyeol still hadn’t made a firm decision when he heard the squeaking of the floorboards from the hallway. Every muscle was frozen, unmoving as he tried to command them to shift from their current position. He needed to leave. Fast. 

You rounded the corner, a steel baseball bat held high in the air. Chanyeol wanted to laugh at the sight of you, but he had to keep his full concentration on not being seen. With the current state he was in, he could easily slip and accidentally reveal himself. However, he wasn’t the only one not paying full attention. 

Barefoot and still in your pajamas, you made your way around the living room. You barely glanced at the broken pot before searching the rest of the room. Chanyeol watched closely, worrying about the shards of the pot scattered around. 

“Shoot!” you hissed. Falling to the floor and landing on your backside, you whimpered as you inspected the cut. 

Chanyeol jumped forward, forgetting all about staying invisible, and reached out to take care of his charge. “Are you okay!”

Yeah… that just made things worse. 

“Holy crap!” 

You scrambled and swung the bat at his legs. Chanyeol jumped in time to miss being hit with the steel bar. He stayed floating there in case you decided to try again the other way. Your eyes grew big at his anti-gravity abilities. 

Several times you opened and closed your mouth in a humorous fashion. Chanyeol wanted to giggle at your expression, but he was able to hold it back. Right now probably wouldn’t be the best time to start laughing at you. 

“W-what… are you?” you asked between heavy breaths. The bat had fallen from your hands and you were leaning back, almost… afraid of him? Why would- oh, right. To you, he was a stranger. A stranger who could fly. 

Right, Chanyeol, think. 

“How did you get in here?” you demanded, feigning a bit of bravery. 

Chanyeol pointed to his right. “The sliding glass door.”

You pulled your eyebrows together, flickering your eyes between the space where his feet weren’t touching the ground and the balcony door. “What are you, some overgrown Peter Pan?”

“Huh?” Chanyeol shook his head. “No! I was keeping a thief from breaking in here. He had a knife and I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“So, Superman, then?” you mocked. 

Landing back on the floor so he was now sitting cross-legged in front of you, Chanyeol sighed. “No, that’s not it either.” He scratched his scalp as he weighed his options. He could lie. Maybe say that he was just a ghost or this was all a dream, but that didn’t sit right with him. “I’m not really supposed to be telling you any of this….”

You scoffed. “You broke my pot. You owe me.”

Chanyeol pouted at that. He didn’t think that the revelation of the existence of his species really amounted to a fallen plant, but he couldn’t really argue that without giving himself up anyway. 

“So...” you egged on. “Are you going to come out with it or do I have to get the bat again and chase you out of my home?”

 “It’s not nice to threaten an angel with a bat,” Chanyeol snapped. Then he cringed. Oops. 

But rather than looking at him with awe or amazement, you laughed. “An angel? Yeah, sure. Okay. I think I’d believe the Superman story a little easier.”

Chanyeol’s jaw dropped. “An alien with superpowers is easier to believe?”

“Than an angel? Yes.”

Well, now you were just revving up his competitive spirit. He reached for your foot, determined. “Here, I’ll show you.”

You dodged his grip. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, what are you doing?”

“I’m going to heal your cut,” he stated matter-of-factly. 

“Are you serious?” you asked as you eyed him suspiciously. 

“Yes,” he nodded. He held out his hand, palm up. “Now, give me your foot.”

For a moment, it seemed like you wouldn’t give the appendage up. Chanyeol waited and fought with his patience. He needed you to trust him. Why? Well, he didn’t really have an answer, just that he couldn’t leave without knowing that you believed him and didn’t think he was a mad man or some made up superhero. 

Eventually, you slowly began to lift your foot, placing your ankle in his hand. “Just don’t plant any alien eggs in there, okay?”

He laughed at your absurd reference. As he kept his eyes trained on the gash, he lifted his other hand. A warm, golden glow surrounded his fingers before spreading over to your foot. Your eyes widened, finally giving him that sense of awe he’d been waiting for. When he was done, you took back your foot, inspecting the now pristine area, save for the slight coating of soil. 

You let out a short laugh, then smiled up at him. “You know, that just supports the superpower theory, right?”

Chanyeol groaned. “Are you kidding me? I just made a cut heal in a few seconds!”

“Yes,” you agreed. “But that could be an explanation for a lot of things. It doesn’t necessarily scream ‘angel’.”

“You nearly died after being stuck in an elevator last year.”

“W-what?”

Chanyeol scooted closer to you. What he really wanted to do was to grab your hand, but that didn’t seem like the best idea. It was a traumatic experience for you and it was cruel enough just to bring it up again. “Last year, you were in an elevator at work when it suddenly stop. At first, you thought the power was out, but then it shook. Then it tilted. You were alone and scared. It took nearly an hour for the firefighters to break the doors open. As soon as you were free and back on the floor, it crashed down to the basement.”

You swallowed thickly, glassy tears pooling on your bottom lids. “How did you know that?” 

“I’m your guardian angel,” he said. “I was there.”

Rather than giving him thanks, you scoffed. “Then why didn’t you get me out of there sooner?”

“Who do you think was holding up the cables?”

**

You stared at the giant strange man sitting across from you. The options as what to believe or even think at the moment had you at a complete loss. 

“If you were there,” you said slowly, “why didn’t you just get me out? Use your angelic gifts to poof me out of that death trap?” To this day, you couldn’t take the elevator without having flashbacks. The very idea of stepping into one sent you into a panic attack. 

A guilty look came across the angel’s face. “We’re not supposed to interfere to that degree. Not in a noticeable way, at least. I would never have let anything happen to you, though! I made sure you got out!”

Your head was spinning. The man – angel – who’d woken you up from your sleep was insisting that he was also the reason you’d survived the accident last year. And you believed him. The inspectors afterwards had said that the cable had snapped fairly quickly and you shouldn’t have been rescued in time. A real life miracle, they called it. 

“Thank you,” you whispered. 

The angel’s eyes grew bigger than they already were, shocked at those two small words. “What did you say?”

 “I said ‘thank you’.” Sure, you’d said it quietly, but you figured he’d be able to hear you with ears like that. “You know, for saving my life. I guess, twice now if there really was a burglar.”

“Huh,” was his only response. 

You frowned. “What?” 

“Nothing,” he replied, quickly waving his hands in front of him to chase away any doubt of honesty. “I’ve… never been thanked before, that’s all.”

“Never?”

“Nope.” He shook his head and then shrugged his shoulders, “It’s just… part of the job.”

“A rather underappreciated one, don’t you think?” you teased with a small smile. This angel, with his goofy grin and soft features, was… well, he was kind of cute. And the way his expressions jumped from one emotion to the other with such ease was drawing you in. 

You groaned internally. Only you would start this situation out ready to start swinging a bat and then end up with a crush on your guardian angel. Clearing your throat, you asked, “So, um, do you have a name? Or am I supposed to just call you ‘angel’ from now on?”

That small, sideways smile bloomed into a full blown grin that outshined a full moon. “It’s Chanyeol.”

“Chanyeol,” you repeated, liking how the syllables flowed together, like leaves on a creek. Oh, great. Your thoughts were starting to get poetic with his name. You should get out of there. “Well,” you stood up to your feet, faking your tiredness with stifled yawns and overdramatic stretches, “I think I should head back to bed. Work in the morning and all.” 

Chanyeol’s smile dimmed noticeably. “Oh, okay.”

“But I’ll see you around?” you asked hopefully. 

He nodded, the light coming back. “Yes. Absolutely.”

“Good,” you smiled back. “See you around, tiger.” Before you could change your mind, you marched on back to your bedroom and shut the door. 

** 

Where, exactly, you’d be seeing Chanyeol was the real mystery. 

When you woke up the next morning, the plant was cleaned up. Its new place in the trash bin was the only evidence that last night wasn’t a strange dream you had from that different tea flavor you tried before bed. Shrugging it all off as unimportant, you made yourself a quick breakfast and got ready for work. 

It was an odd feeling, going through your normal routine while knowing of the possibility that there was an angel watching over you. And what if he wasn’t the only angel around? Were there dozens on this floor of the company building, just hanging around and making sure nothing happens to the humans they’re charged with? What embarrassing things had those strangers seen you do?

“Hello!”

“Holy crap!”

The sudden voice right next to your ear made you jump, spilling the steaming coffee from your mug onto your arm and stinging the skin. You glared up at Chanyeol while trying to lightly pat the throbbing area. 

“I’m sorry!” Chanyeol quickly took hold of your arm, placing his warm palm over the skin. That strange glow was back and the pain subsided in seconds. Little drops of coffee still fell from your arm, but at least you wouldn’t have to go find some ointment for it later. 

“I’d say you come in handy, but really it’s only when you’ve caused the injury in the first place,” you grumbled as you refilled your mug. 

Chanyeol dropped his head in shame. “I’m sorry.”

Why did he have to look so vulnerable like that? 

Placing a knuckle under his chin, you lifted his head just enough so you could look him in the eye. “Hey. I was just teasing. Don’t beat yourself up over it. Accidents happen.”

A ghost of his usual smile was beginning to appear, making you sigh. Then he frowned again. “Is something wrong?”

You shook your head, plastering on a smile. “No. Not at all. Why?”

“You seem… down,” he explained. 

“I’m at work when I’d rather be doing something else,” you told him. It was partially true, but it was also partially a lie. It wasn’t the reason for your heavy heart at the current moment. Wanting to change the subject, you glanced around, remembering where you were in the first place. “How did you even get in here? It’s the tenth floor of a high security building.”

A boastful gleam sparkled in his eyes. “The angel way, of course. Don’t worry, you’re the only one who can see me right now.”

Your jaw dropped. “You can do that?”

“Yes,” he nodded proudly. “It takes a lot of concentration, but I can make sure that only you see me.”

“So, I look like I’m talking to myself? Fantastic.” Because everyone here didn’t think you were weird enough as it was. 

“Do you want me to be seen so you don’t look crazy?” he offered. 

“No!” You grabbed hold of his arm as if that would be the one thing that kept him invisible. “The last thing that needs to happen is you being dragged out of here by security.”

“Alright then.” That boy even had the audacity to wink at you. His demeanor changed then. Tilting his head as if he was trying to listen in on a faint conversation, his eyebrows pulled together and he frowned. “I have to go. I think I need to check on another charge.”

“Another charge?” So, you weren’t the only one he was looking out for? Well, there went your specialness. 

He nodded. “I’ll… be back. Okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” You didn’t quite believe him. What need would he have to come back?

Chanyeol gave you a small wave before disappearing with a pop!

For the millionth time, you reminded yourself that he was an angel, a higher being that was simply meant to look out for you and make sure you didn’t die before your time. In no way was it appropriate to start crushing on him or be sad when he had to leave. 

But damn if he didn’t make it hard. 

And he just made it harder with his frequent visits at work. And your apartment. And random times when you were out and about. 

You were sure that he just wanted someone to talk to. He wasn’t actually popping by because of you necessarily, but you were the one human being who knew of his existence, so it made sense for him to take relish in having someone to talk to. That didn’t stop you from looking forward to his appearances, though. Which was why today you were in such a sour mood. 

You hadn’t seen Chanyeol since yesterday morning after weeks of having him randomly show up multiple times a day. His presence and frequent drop ins while you were at the copy machine or reaching on your balcony or even one time right when you were getting out of the shower. Yes, you were wrapped securely in a towel, but you’d never seen someone’s face get so red before. 

Did you do something to scare him off? Was it something you said? Did he get in trouble by a higher up for talking to you too much? All these questions and more kept bouncing around in your head, making you completely unaware of your surroundings. 

“Hello? Earth to (y/n)?” A hand blurred in front of your face, making you jump. 

Yoon, a fellow coworker, was smirking at you. “Daydreaming?” she teased. 

You rolled your eyes. “Got to have dreams to do that. What’s up?”

Yoon motioned with her head to the big office behind her. “Mr. Kang wants to see you. Urgently, he said.”

You groaned. Mr. Kang preferred to use you as his errand runner for some odd reason. He seemed to like you, but when he was constantly making you run files and papers all over the building, you had to wonder sometimes. 

Pushing your chair away from your desk, you stood up and headed over to the big, open office of Mr. Kang. You knocked lightly on the door before pushing it open and peeking your head in. 

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Kang?”

Your boss looked up from his computer. “Yes! Come in!”

You obeyed, coming to a stop in front of his desk. Mr. Kang handed over a very official looking portfolio and you took it cautiously. 

“I need you to go up to the sixteenth floor and have Miss Havard sign that so we can close this deal. It needs to be her only who signs it and I need you to bring me back the original, if you would.”

You nodded once. “Of course, Mr. Kang.”

Before you could exit the office, he called out to you one more time, making you suppress a sigh. 

“Yes, sir?”

“I need that done as quickly as possible. The client is waiting to hear back from us and I don’t want to keep them waiting any longer than they have to.” He face melted to a soft, sympathetic look. “There’s construction going on in the stairwell and so… the elevator would be faster. You’re the one I trust to accomplish this, so please, try, at least.”

Oh. Fantastic. Breathing in deeply, you nodded again and headed out. 

It was a huge probability that it would be faster for you to run up the six flights of stairs and dodge the construction workers than you just standing there in front of the elevators, frozen. You hadn’t even pressed the button yet. 

“Come on,” Yoon urged, pressing the “up” button for you. “I have to go up to the fourteenth floor,” she explained when you gave her a confused look. “I’ll travel up with you and show you that it’s completely fine. Then you just have two floors to make it on your own.”

“Okay,” you whispered. You could already feel your breath becoming shallow and that haunting, familiar tightness in your chest was creeping up. Oh, please don’t let me throw up. 

The ding of the elevator scared you but you didn’t fight when Yoon guided you into the tiny death box. As soon as the doors closed, you pressed yourself up against the wall and kept your eyes on the glowing numbers, watching as the floors slowly move up. By a miracle, it didn’t stop on any other floor, prolonging your ride of terror, before hitting the fourteenth level. 

“You got this,” Yoon encouraged as she held the door open. Of course she could say that. She was safely off the elevator and in the hallway. To try and make you laugh, she held up her fist and shook it once. It only slightly worked as the door slowly shut closed. 

Closing your eyes, you focused on your breathing, hand squeezing the metal bar that ran around the inside of the elevator like a belt. 

Two floors, you told yourself. Only two floors. 

Then the elevator stopped. 

You opened your eyes, thinking you’d arrived at your floor, but the red lights still read “15”.

Then the lights flickered. 

“No, no, no, no, no, no.” You pressed the “open doors” button over and over again, trying anything to make the elevator move or let you out. 

Nothing helped, nothing worked. 

You began pounding your firsts on the metal barrier, crying out for anyone to hear you. “Help! Someone, help! I’m stuck in here! Help! Chanyeol!”

On the other side, you could hear the faintest of voices gathering somewhere above you. Great. You weren’t even fully on a floor. 

“Who’s in there!” someone yelled. You were barely able to say your name as the sobs broke out. “Don’t worry! We’ll get you out of there!”

The elevator shook and you scrambled back into a corner. Not again. How could this happen again?

Grunts and muffled orders carried on in the space above you. The trembling you felt all over refused to stop and silently in your head, you began to say your goodbyes. 

But you saw light again. A hole just big enough for you to crawl through emerged as several men pried the doors apart. You scrambled up to the space and climbed out with help from your rescuers. 

“Don’t worry,” one of them said as they tried to comfort you by rubbing your arms with their palms, “you’re free. Paramedics are on their way to check you out.” 

Even though he was trying, you weren’t soothed at all. Looking around, you searched for the one face you really wanted to see, but he was nowhere to be found. Some guardian angel he was. 

**

Crap. 

Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. 

Chanyeol appeared in your living room, spinning in circles to try and find you. He knew you were here. When he’d gone to see you at work after chasing around a few other charges who were trying to be the next Evel Knievel, he’d heard about what happened only a few hours earlier. He should have known something was wrong. That gut instinct had kicked him, but he thought that you were fine and maybe just accidentally cut or burned yourself again. It was a habit he’d witnessed more than a few times over the last few weeks. But he was dead wrong. 

The odds of being stuck in an elevator twice – in the same building no less – were astronomical and yet it happened to you. And he wasn’t there to protect you. 

“(y/n)?”

No reply. 

Slowly he made his way down the hallway to your bedroom. He called out for you again, but still he was met with only silence. However, when he opened the door to see if you were in bed, he was met with a pillow to the head. 

“Get out!” you ordered. 

“(y/n), I’m so so-” Smack! Another pillow met its target – his face. Chanyeol rubbed his nose as that one particularly hurt. Who knew you had such a strong arm?

“I said get out!” you sniffed. Now that he had a proper look at you, Chanyeol could see that your eyes were puffy and the tip of your nose was raw from crying. You were in an oversized t-shirt and shorts. The covers were scrambled about on top of the mattress as if you couldn’t find a comfortable way to lay. Yes, you told him to get out, but Chanyeol elected to do the opposite. 

Taking off his shoes and jacket, Chanyeol slid into the empty spot next to you and pulled you into his embrace. You didn’t fight him, but you remained stiff against him. Chanyeol rested his cheek against your forehead, rocking you back and forth.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he whispered. “I should have been. And I want to take it back. But I’ll stay here with you. I promise.”

Slowly, he felt you relax against him. Soon, you were bringing your own arms up and wrapping around his waist to pull in closer. 

“I was so scared,” you hiccupped. “Why me?”

Chanyeol felt so defeated as he admitted, “I don’t know. But you won’t take another elevator in your life, even if I have to fly you everywhere.”

You actually chuckled against his chest. “I like the sound of that.” Leaning back, you wiped away the tears that rolled down your cheeks. “And I’m sorry. I know that it’s not your fault. You have other people to look after too. I can’t blame you when something goes wrong.”

“Yes, you can,” Chanyeol declared as he cupped your cheeks. He couldn’t stand the crushed look your eyes were giving him. While he’d always had a slight fondness for you… lately, you’d become the most precious thing to him and he’d almost lost it. “I should have been there. But don’t worry. From now on, I will be.”

You tried to shake your head, but Chanyeol’s hands kept you mostly in place. “You don’t have to promise me that. You said it yourself that you have others to look after.”

“But they’re not you.”

Your breath audibly hitched in your throat. But unlike the movies he’d seen where confessions like this led the other party to be frozen in place, you acted. 

**

You had absolutely no idea what came over you. There was just something in Chanyeol’s words that kick started your bravery and the next thing you knew you were leaning in and connecting your lips to his. It was supposed to be a quick, chaste kiss, something prompted by your highly emotional state and his pretty words encouraging you. But you didn’t even get a chance to try and break it up before he was pulling you back in for more. 

An angel shouldn’t be able to kiss like this. He definitely shouldn’t be pushing you down onto your back, pressing you deeper into the mattress. But every touch was gentle, treating you glass and letting you take any chance you wanted to end it. Of course, you didn’t. This was a situation you’d allowed yourself on more than one occasion to think about. Not a single one of those daydreams amounted to this, however. 

When Chanyeol slowly pushed himself up onto his elbows and effectively ending that heated first kiss, your breaths came out shallow and your head felt dizzy. He stared down at you with those big round eyes so full of adoration that you shrank back.

“What is it?” he said, his breaths just as quick. 

You shook your head. “Nothing. I just… I don’t think I’ve ever been looked at like that before.”

“Well,” he smirked, “you’d better get used to it. Because I won’t look at you any other way.”

Soaring on your own cloud nine, you snaked your arms around his neck and pulled him back down. If he was going to look at you like that then you were going to give him a kiss worthy of it. 

**

“Chanyeol, slow down!”

But the big idiot did not slow down as he soared through the air, spinning around and laughing at your fear as you buried your head in his chest. The solid mass you were clinging to for dear life vibrated as he kept releasing teasing chuckles. He tended to forget that falling from this height would actually kill one of you. 

“You can look now, (y/n).”

You whimpered, afraid that it might be a trick. 

With only one eye, you peeked out over your shoulder. You were surprised to find a brick wall obstructing your view. Venturing out a little further, you realized that you were in a safe spot between two buildings near downtown. Releasing a sigh of relief, you put yourself sound on solid ground once again. 

“Let’s not do that again,” you huffed, looking up at Chanyeol with a glare. 

He ruffled the top of your head, making you swat his hand away. “Are you saying you didn’t have fun?”

“Yes,” you snipped. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. I’ve almost died twice by elevator, remember?”

“But you’re with me,” he reminded you. “Nothing will happen while I’m-”

A smoking black arrow fired out of nowhere, barely missing you as Chanyeol spun you into his embrace and faced his back towards the danger. The arrow stuck itself into the crackling mortar between the bricks of the building. Little wisps were still floating of the charcoal neck and the feathers were blacker than a raven’s.

Chanyeol kept you close as he searched around the area for the marksman. But the area was clear. 

“What was that?” you asked worriedly. 

“Demon,” Chanyeol hissed. He marched over to the arrow, pulling it out of the wall and inspecting its details. 

“Those are real, too?”

He nodded. “This isn’t good. I’ll have to tell Junmyeon.”

“Who’s Junmyeon?” You were fairly certain you hadn’t heard him mention any others by name.

“Though not officially, he’s sort of our leader in this district.” Chanyeol grabbed your hand and held it tightly. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”

“How bad it is, Chanyeol?” He knew what you meant. You could tell by the way his shoulders dropped and the heavy exhale he pushed out through his lips. 

“I don’t know, (y/n). I don’t know.”

[theladyspooks]

In Morte, Aerternitatis Ch. 2: Offerings

The next morning was a light affair of tea and scones for Anya readying herself for the day ahead; the unknown swimming in front of her. She made a mental note to make a quick stop at the local florist before heading over to meet Annie and Paul at the estate.

If she hurried, she could make it there a few minutes before them in order to do some digging of her own.

Grabbing her bag, she left the house and hopped into the car; goals set in mind. A few turns later, she pulled over at “Mama’s Floral”, silently hoping that there was still a fresh pick of blooms this morning.

She browsed over the containers and arrangements thoughtfully, waiting for something to catch her eye. There were plenty of roses, lilies, sunflowers, any and all common flowers she found on every mantle or grave.

“Need somethin’, darlin?” She turned to see the shopkeeper with a warm smile on her face.

“Oh, well yes, actually. I just need a few small blooms, nothing too..” She attempted to find the word.

“Obnoxious?” The old woman chuckled, “Don’t you worry baby, I got just the thing.” She motioned for Anya to follow until they reached the back of the store. There lay a few different types of flowers in smaller size that instantly drew her in.

“I’ll take ten of these please.” She motioned to a bucket of white flowers.

“Maybe not what I would’ve picked, but the meaning is still a lovely thing,” The shopkeeper smiled and picked a few, “These are gardenias, they symbolize sweetness and convey a sense of joy. Almost as if to tell the receiver ‘you are lovely!’” She took the flowers to the register with Anya in tow.

She paid the woman and took the small bundle with a small ‘thank you’ before leaving towards her car. The streets of New Orleans were still at rest in the early light of morning, allowing her for a peaceful drive in the sun as she switched the radio station.

Are you with me, Crescent City? Do you feel it comin' on? When the Catholic Church realised they couldn't rid us of our pagan ways, they invited…

On second thought, maybe a quiet drive was what she needed. While Kingfish kept the radio lively with his deep Louisiana accent and wisdom of all things mythical, today just wasn’t the time for thoughts about dark forces.

After another ten minutes she pulled into the driveway of Annie’s ancestral home, noting that she had in fact beaten them to the punch at the absence of Paul’s red truck. Locking her car, she took the flowers and began the walk inside to the shrine.

The old Tarrant estate was run down and well used, white paint browning and chipping from the walls by the droves with smashed porcelain and glass everywhere she looked. She didn’t even want to think about the dust and mold that covered every square inch by this point. Trudging carefully up the stairs she found a group of what appeared to be homeless men sitting on a loose mattress.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to intrude. I- well, I was looking for the shrine for Candy-” She was cut off as one of the men jumped back with a hand up.

“Don’t be sayin’ that name, not here!” She startled and tried to apologize again before being cut off once more.

“That old thing doesn't get many visitors. What do ya want with it?” An older man grumbled.

Anya hesitated and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Just here to leave an offering.” She gestured to the flowers in her hand. The man drew his eyes from the gardenias to her face, nodding to the left.

“Down the hall, first door on the right.” He turned back to the other two men, seemingly content to ignore her existence. She nodded in thanks before walking off further into the house, eyeing the vines that grew up and through the walls as she went. She found herself turning right into what appeared to be some kind of bedroom, another little door inside that she hoped would lead to her destination.

She wandered into the dark corridor littered with graffiti, a door with what appeared to be the back of a throat painted onto it in her reach. Pushing open the door, Anya knew she had found her destination.

‘Sweets to the sweet’ was painted in neon colors on the wall in front of her, something about that saying almost felt mocking in nature. Detailed paintings on the broken down walls drew her in and made her curious. A mob of men and women restraining a frightened man as he seemingly pleaded for help; another of the same man covered in welts and bumps, his hand now completely gone as he reached for an invisible figure. His eyes held a look of pure grief that nearly broke her heart on the spot. She reached up to touch the painting gently almost as if afraid she’d hurt the subject even more, her fingers lightly caressing the chipping paint of his reaching hand.  

From the corner of her eye, a splash of red caught her attention. There in front of her was the prominent shrine she’d been searching for, littered in candies and lit candles in front of what seemed to be a mural of the mythic Candyman himself.

Carefully, she padded over to the shrine, flowers loosely held in her grasp.

“Uhm...hello,” She chirped at the ominous visage in front of her, his mouth open as if in an eternal scream of rage, “I hope you don’t mind, but I didn’t bring any candy with me. Figured you might appreciate something.. different.”

Her eyes wandered to the multiple skulls that were painted at his feet.

“My name is Anastasia, but I suppose you can call me Anya. Less of a mouthful,” She chuckled nervously, “Anyway, I- I brought you these flowers, gardenias; they mean sweetness and joy from what I understand. Figured you could use some after the stories I’ve heard.”

She found herself drawn to his hooked hand, a small frown gracing her face.

“If what they say is true..how you lost your hand, how you died,” She swallowed and took a deep breath, “Then I’m sorry, no one deserves to suffer that way; especially not for falling in love. My words probably don’t mean much, but- but I do mean them.” She nodded firmly and placed the flowers on top of the shrine.

“Gardenias,” She whispered to herself, “To tell the receiver that they are lovely…”

‘His name was Daniel Robitaille…’ The echo of her brother's words rang in her head as she looked up to the image in front of her.

“You’re lovely, Daniel.” She whispered with a sparkle in her eye. She smiled once more before turning around to really look at the spacious room, wooden and steel pole connecting from the ceiling to the ground all around her.

The space was nearly big enough to waltz with a partner if it wasn’t for the beams and poles, maybe one person could move comfortably if they had good coordination. She shook her head as she realized that even here she was thinking about dancing and what she could do to fill the space.

As if by magic, the music from a nearby residence floated on the breeze and through the broken windows of the home and pulled her lips into a full blown smile at the familiar notes of Tchaikovsky.

Her body began to sway gently to the rhythm, feet taking on a life of their own as she forgot where she was in lieu of the smooth notes. She swayed and glided around the room as her hands gently grasped the beams to spin around them, almost as if she was dancing from partner to partner. The light breeze blew in and kissed her cheeks as she spun, pirouetting in place once, twice, three times.

She came to a stop and posed in arabesque, dropping her foot back down into another spin as she did a grande jeté before coming back to the floor and beginning her partnering with the beams once more. She spun around one in particular, grabbing it gently in order to dip backwards slowly. With her eyes closed and the music swelling in her ears she could almost feel a presence there with her, gently encompassing her back so she wouldn’t fall.

Coming back up into a standing position and breathing out a laugh, she let her hands rest on the beam in front of her as the music faded away and the feeling on her back disappeared almost as quickly as she felt it.

“Having fun?” She gasped in shock and turned to face the humorous voice. Annie stood there with a hand covering her mouth, eyes crinkled in amusement.

“Dammit Annie Tarrant, you nearly stopped my heart!” She clutched her heart and attempted to calm her breathing as Annie came towards her.

“I should’ve known you’d come here before and bore yourself waiting.” Annie laughed as Anya rolled her eyes.

“Well I didn’t do it on purpose, just wanted to get a head start on looking. You’ve got enough on your plate right now and this was the least I could do.” She combed her red curls back and sighed.

“Anastasia Ilyena Fyodorov, I know that look” Annie scolded, “I know that look. You being here for Paul and I is more than enough and you know it.” Anya exhaled and grasped Annie’s hands.

“I know I just- I wish I could do more, you and your family were there for Vadim and I everyday when Mama passed away,” She rubbed her thumb over Annie’s, “Hell I was half expecting your mother to adopt me with how much she doted and cleaned around the estate after Vadim left...I could barely get out of bed most days and she was always right there with a pot of tea.” She chuckled.

“You know she’d adopt you both in a heartbeat if you’d let her” Annie chuckled along, “But the point is you and Vadim did the same for her after Daddy died. You were both here for all of us when we felt lost and if I recall, you were the one with the teapot that time.” Both women laughed simultaneously, squeezing hands one last time as they both seemed to recall where they were.

“Well, I haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary since I’ve gotten here other than a few interesting murals.” Anya sighed.

“Yeah, same with Paul and I. A few men down the hall, but nothing that could explain Ethan’s sudden change” Annie sighed and walked up to the mural, “There has to be something, Anya! After that night Ethan became an entirely different person, all of his goals and wants replaced by a dark...cloud! It’s not just the fact that he found Daddy, but- but something else.” She let her eyes roam the mural in confusion.

“Whatever it was” Anya walked up to Annie to stand with her, “We’ll find it Ann, I promise.” Anya smiled in a comforting manner as Annie found solace in the warmth she radiated.

“You’re right, annoyingly so as usual” Annie laughed as Anya lightly pushed her arm, “Come on, I don’t think Paul likes being here all that much. Nearly twisted his ankle just getting here.” She laughed and walked off towards the entrance to the room.

Anya turned to follow slowly, sparing one last glance at the flowers she left and back to the mural, waving gently with a small smile before following after her friend.

As both occupants left the room entirely, another entered. One lone bee flew in from the broken window and made its way to the fresh gardenias; tiny legs gently caressing the petals before landing to embrace the sweet scent before it.

__________________________________

That night saw Anya once again cleaning the studio after all the kids had gone home for the night, picking up leftover bandages and wiping chalk from the floor. She really needed to enforce a better sense of cleanliness, lord knows she didn’t want any parents complaining of chalky shoes all over their carpet.

She shook her head and threw any remaining garbage into the small pale in the corner as a knock sounded from the entrance door. Dusting off her hands, she made her way out of her office and into the studio area.

‘Strange…’ She thought, seeing no one at the glass door as she approached. Opening it into the night she looked around, not seeing a single soul nor departing car that could have yielded any results. There was no way she imagined it, the knock was as clear as day and even she knew she wasn’t that tired.

Anya looked around once more before turning her eyes to the ground below, a single red amaryllis lay in full bloom at her feet.

She tilted her head and crouched down to pick up the flower, slowly turning it over in her hands and letting her fingertips touch the petals. Her mother used to grow these by the dozen, but had never told her what they meant. Maybe she didn’t care to. She looked up once more if only to catch a glimpse of someone- anyone, really.

Not a soul in sight.

Shrugging, she took the flower back inside to continue her nightly ritual before going home.

After another thirty minutes of cleaning Anya found herself jumping into the car, the moon lighting a path as her car rolled down the street. Thoughts of the conversation she’d had with Annie earlier in the day filled her head as the police station came into view. Shaking her head, she pulled into the parking lot and went inside.

Coming to a stop in front of the visitors station, a younger officer looked up expectantly at her.

“Ethan Tarrant.” She offered.

He looked relatively confused, but wrote out a tag and let her pass while another officer escorted her up the stairs and into a side room where Ethan sat inside. His head perked up at the sound of the door opening.

“Anya? What are you doing here?” His brow creased with a frown.

“Trying to help your sister” She responded sitting down, “Ethan, what’s going on?” He scoffed and looked away from her.

“You know what’s going on. I killed him, Anya. I’m sure Annie already told you so don’t play dumb with-”

“Oh cut the bullshit, Ethan. You’ve been acting like an asshole for the past year and throwing your whole life down the drain” She raised her voice to make sure he understood how serious she was, “I’m sorry about Coleman, I really am, but you’re not the only one in the world who’s had to deal with death. You won’t even let your own family in anymore out of some misplaced guilt that you somehow killed your father!”

“Enough-”

“Drinking until dawn in the Quarter? Slacking on your PHD? You-”

“I said ENOUGH!” Ethan banged his fists onto the table and shook it slightly.

Anya sat there unphased by his outburst, Ethan was prone to them as of late. Always lashing out whenever any semblance of truth was thrown in his face.

“You have no clue what you’re talking about, Anastasia.” He growled.

“I don’t? You won’t even tell Annie what’s going on, sitting here claiming you did this when we both know you wouldn’t.” She barked back as he laughed mockingly.

“And I’m telling you just like I told her, it’s none of your concern.” Something in his tone caught her attention.

“You know something Ethan,” She challenged, “There’s something you’re not saying, but it’s all over your face.”

He remained quiet as her eyes bore into his own, two fiery tempers matched in one face off. Finally, he broke eye contact.

“Even if I told you anything, you wouldn’t believe me” He groaned, “Neither would Annie. I have to protect her...can you understand that?” He questioned as she clenched her hands together, images of her father flashing before her.

“More than you know.” She whispered. His head shot to look at her as he seemingly comprehended what he had said to her, an apology poised on his lips.

“Alright, visiting hours are up Miss!” A female detective interrupted, shooting Ethan a wary look. Anya sighed and stood to gather her purse and face the detective.

“Anya?” Ethan’s voice stopped her as she turned back to look at him, “Please, just- just be careful okay? Annie needs you right now more than ever.” He begged.

“I know, Ethan.” She nodded and left the room.

The detective escorted her back downstairs to the visitors station, her eyes straying from the form Anya filled out to her purse.

“That from someone special?” She asked as Anya looked back up. The detective gestured to the red flower peeking out from her purse.

“Not entirely sure, actually. It was left in front of my studio before I locked up.” She signed her name and handed the paper back.

“Well whoever left it must think a whole lot of you,” At Anya’s clear confusion she continued, “Amaryllis right? My husband would always bring me those when we first started dating, still have a few of them dried and preserved as a keepsake. Anyway he always used to tell me that they were a symbol of beauty, often used to indicate worth beyond beauty.” She smiled with a faraway look in her eye.

“Now of course it doesn’t have to mean anything romantic, but it’s definitely a big positive.” She took the paper as Anya nodded.

“Thank you, I had no idea.” She smiled hesitantly as the detective bid her goodnight. Maybe she’d make another pit stop at Annie’s before she went home, something didn’t sit well with what Ethan had told her.

___________________________

[gaygent37]

A Little Bit of Fairy Dust - Day 19

No-Set-Prompt-List-tober, October 19: WOODS

JayDick, unicorn king Jason, fairy queen Dick, bottom Dick, anal sex, fairy dust orgasm, slight h/c, 3,456 words

/╲/\╭( ͡° ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° ͡°)╮/\╱\

“You’ll do just fine, my Queen!” one of Dick’s attendants chirped as he rearranged Dick’s cape on his shoulders. 

Dick sighed softly. “I hope so,” he said with a small smile. 

His attendant flew into his line of sight, putting a tiny hand on Dick’s cheek. “You’ve done so well every year, and you’ve kept the peace with the unicorns for nearly two decades now, your Majesty!” he said. “What will make this year so different?”

Dick gave the little fairy a tight smile, looking at himself in the mirror. “You’re right. I’m just going for an annual treaty discussion with the Unicorn King. Nothing will be any different. Thanks for having confidence in me, Hickory.”

“That’s the spirit, your Majesty!” the attendant cheered, zooming back around to move a few pieces of Dick’s hair into place, leaving a sprinkle of fairy dust behind him. “Hickory shall go get your crown now!”

Dick nodded, watching in the mirror as the fairy zipped through the slightly ajar door. Dick let the smile slip off his face when the attendant was gone. 

Dick frowned at himself in the mirror. He was not looking forward to tonight. In fact, Dick had been dreading it for months now. It had been twenty-five years since the century long war between the fairies of the forest and the unicorns came to an end with a treaty between Dick’s parents and the unicorns’ Queen. And their species thrived under the new treaty and peace finally reigned in the forest. However, the Unicorn Queen died after a jealous lover killed her, leaving her barely of age son to take over. Dick remembered accompanying his parents to one of the annual treaty discussions and meeting the boy. 

The new king was ethereal, but he had a very solemn mien. Dick never saw him smile more than a tight grimace, even though Dick’s parents smiled throughout the night.

A month after that meeting, Dick’s parents were assassinated, and Dick found himself in a similar position.

Dick had been extremely nervous for his first meeting with the Unicorn King. He did not want the other ruler to look down on him. Dick ran through so many possible scenarios for the night, planning exactly what he would say and do in each situation. 

However, the meeting did not go how Dick expected at all. Somehow, he had ended up on the table, his dress hiked up and his legs spread wide for the king. They spoke nothing of the treaty that night. And for twenty years since, the treaty has not once successfully been discussed, but life went on year after year like they did discuss the treaty on those nights each year. 

But this year was going to be different. Dick was going to talk about the treaty. He was not going to do anything else aside form talk about the treaty. And when their discussion was done, Dick was going to walk out with dignity and as poised as he looked when he entered the hollow tree in which their meetings were held. 

The door to his room opened a bit more and three tiny fairies came floating in, Dick’s crown in their hands. 

“Your crown, your Majesty!” said one of the fairies. She and the others carefully settled the ring of closed flower buds onto Dick’s head, and upon touching Dick’s head, the flowers burst into full bloom. 

“Thank you, Amaryllis, Poppy, Hickory,” Dick said sweetly, standing up. He kissed his fingertip and touched each of the fairies on top of their heads. 

Hickory blushed viciously, and the girls laughed at him. Dick smiled. “I’ll be back by midnight,” he promised. 

“We’ll be waiting, my Queen!” Poppy sang.

Dick gave them one last smile before he shrank himself down into a tiny, flying orb of light. In a flash, he was out of the open window and shooting into the forest, heading towards the hollowed out ash tree. 

Dick circled around the circumference of the tree before he found the opening. He transformed back into his human size, taking a shaky breath before stepping into the lit interior of the tree. 

As Dick expected, the King of the Unicorns was there already, lounging in a chair. Somehow, even in the warm candlelight, he glowed. His skin shimmered and sparkled, pale like the moon. The king had the darkest blue eyes Dick had ever seen on a unicorn, a species known for their light colored eyes. And the king wore close to nothing, making Dick feel overdressed, but that was the point. 

“Jason,” Dick said, his voice trembling the slightest. 

The other man kicked his legs off of the table, a smirk on his lips. “You’ve kept me waiting, Dickie,” he murmured, his voice as smooth as cream, making Dick shiver with want.

Dick swallowed and stood up a little straighter as Jason approached him, crowding into his personal space.

As Jason leaned down to kiss him, Dick blurted out, “We should talk about the treaty.”

Jason paused, then laughed. “That can wait, Dickie. C’mon. I haven’t seen you in a year.”

Jason put an arm around Dick’s waist and pulled him in, their hips touching. Dick wanted so badly to reach over and just kiss Jason senseless. It had been a year after all. 

“No,” Dick said, his voice breathier and his pupils blown a little wider. “I... We need to stop this.”

Jason frowned. “Stop this? What this, Dickie?”

“We can’t- We can’t just come here and have... have sex every year, Jay!” Dick finally forced out. “My people think I’m coming here to talk about the treaty, making little amendments and bringing up their issues to discuss, but... I’m not.”

“You’re the queen. You do what you want,” Jason said. 

“Yes, but... I can’t lie to my people anymore, Jay,” Dick said. He put a hand on Jason’s bare chest, touching the soft skin, and Dick could feel the pulses of magic that fizzled across Jason’s skin. Dick closed his eyes, trying not to think of how Jason’s magic practically caressed Dick back. “It’s been twenty years.”

Finally, Jason’s arm dropped from around Dick’s waist. He stepped back - once, twice, three times. Almost immediately, Dick wanted to reach across the gap between them and be able to touch Jason again. But he held back. 

“I see,” Jason said. “Very well. Sit. Let’s get discussing so you can go back to your beloved people sooner.”

Dick could hear the bitterness in Jason’s voice. Still, Dick walked over to the table and sat down across from Jason. 

He took a deep breath. “My people want access to the waterfall,” Dick said softly. 

“No,” Jason said, leveling Dick with a emotionless expression. “That’s our territory.”

“Not the whole lake,” Dick said. “Just the waterfall. There are three other falls on your land while my people only have one. And we have a significantly higher population than unicorns.”

“If the fairies take the waterfall, we get the clover fields,” Jason said. 

Dick was taken aback. “What? That’s the children’s sanctuary!” 

“The clover fields for the waterfall, your Majesty,” Jason said coldly. 

Dick’s expression was hurt. “Jay...”

“Do we have a deal?” Jason asked.

Dick shook his head. “The clover fields are not something you can take. Pick something else.”

“The Gray Oak then,” Jason said. “The fairies can still collect the acorns from the tree, but only the ones that fall to the ground.

Dick gritted his teeth. The Gray Oak was the oldest tree in the forest, and it produced the most acorns in the forest. On top of that, the Gray Oak was planted by Dick’s great-great-great grandfather.

Dick sucked a lip into his mouth, chewing on the tender flesh, wondering if he should take the deal or not. His people had been asking for access to the falls for three years now, and Dick could not let them down. 

He let out a soft sigh. “Fine,” he said. “The tree for the falls.”

Jason nodded. “I’d also like to ask the fairies to stop crossing through our lands to get to the mountains.”

Dick’s eyes widened. “But that’s our only access to the mountains!”

“There’s the gorge. It’s adds a day to the trip, but I’m sure it’s not too bad,” Jason said. 

“The gorge is dangerous!” Dick protested. “It’s the land of the trolls, and in case you forgot, trolls eat fairies!”

Jason shrugged. “Not my problem.”

Dick was positively wounded. “Jason...” he said slowly. “Why are you doing this?”

“You wanted to talk about the treaty, your Majesty. I’m just honoring your wish,” Jason said. 

“You’re being so cold! Jason, this isn’t you!”

Jason rolled his eyes. “And you know me, your Majesty?”

“I- Of course I do,” Dick said, mildly offended.

“No, you don’t,” Jason scoffed. “You know nothing about me.”

“I- I know you’re a kind person at heart,” Dick said. 

“Do you know what my favorite food is? Do you know what my favorite past time is? Do you know who my closest friends are? Do you know how many romantic partners I’ve had? Do you know any of that, Dick?”

Dick blinked. “No...” he said. “You’ve never told me any of that.”

“You’ve never asked,” Jason scoffed.

“Well, you’ve never asked about-” Dick started to accuse. Then, he stopped because he realized that Jason had asked about him. Every year, after they have both satisfied their needs, Jason would wrap Dick up in his arms which were buzzing with magic, and he would listen to Dick ramble about his life. “Oh,” he said softly. Dick looked down in shame. “What is your favorite food?”

Jason looked slightly pissed, his eyes narrowed and his eyebrows drawn in. He huffed. “Don’t bother now.”

“No, I want to know!” Dick said, leaning forward. “I really do. I’m sorry I never asked, but... I do want to know. Everything about you, Jay.”

Jason was silent for a few beats. Then, with a slight red touch to his cheeks, he mumbled, “Sugar cubes.”

Dick’s eyes lit up. “You’ve got a sweet tooth?” he asked. “Aww, that’s adorable. We give sugar cubes to the little ones when they cry to make them stop. In fact, I think I have some on me! I always carry a few around...” Dick dug into one of the invisible pockets of his dress, pulling out a small pouch. Then, he poured out three sugar cubes into his hand. 

Dick smiled wider when he realized Jason had been watching him the whole time. Dick reached across the table and held the sugar out to Jason. 

“I don’t want your sugar,” Jason scoffed. 

“Don’t be so high and mighty now, Jay,” Dick teased. “C’mon!”

Finally, Jason reached a hand across the table and plucked a sugar cube from Dick’s palm. He popped it into his mouth and crossed his arms. Dick took this as a sign that Jason was not going to take any more from him. 

“And what does the King of the Unicorns do in his free time?” Dick asked. “Wait, let me guess: You go swimming.”

“I read,” Jason said with a choked noise, like he was biting back a laugh. “My mane cannot suffer being drenched in water like that!”

“You’ve never been swimming?!” Dick asked. “And yet you have three waterfalls and four lakes on your land! Now tell me about your friends.”

Jason’s arms uncrossed. “I’ve only got two. Two close ones anyway,” Jason said. “Their names are Roy and Kori. They’ve been my friends since I was a kid...”

They talked for hours. Jason had more than a handful of stories telling about all the trouble he got in with his friends, and he had Dick laughing so hard tears rolled down his cheeks and dropped onto the table as a pile of little rainbow jewels - rubies, emeralds, sapphires, and a few diamonds sprinkled in there when he laughed hard enough. 

Sometime during the night, they had both ended up sprawled on the table, lying side by side, staring up at the ceiling of the hollowed tree.

“So... there’s still one question you haven’t asked me yet,” Jason said softly. 

Dick bit his lip. “I know,” he said. “I just... I’m not really sure I want to know the answer to that.”

“Why not?” Jason asked, rolling over and propping himself up on an arm.

Dick sighed and shrugged, silent. 

"Fine, I’ll ask for you,” Jason said. He cleared his throat and put on a higher voice. “Oh, Jason, tell me about your romantic partners! I wanna hear aaaaall about them!”

Dick snorted weakly and shook his head. Then, he turned and looked at Jason. 

Jason’s head turned to look at him too, a small smile playing on his lips. 

“Well?” Dick asked. “You going to answer your own question?”

Jason laughed. “I haven’t had any romantic partners,” he said. “I’ve only had one any partner in my life.”

“Oh,” Dick said, not expecting that. “That’s... kinda sad.”

Jason shrugged. “Yeah, well, not everyone wants to be Queen. It’s not an easy job, your Majesty.”

“Hm,” Dick said, humming in agreement. “I haven’t had any partners either.”

“Not even for just sex?” Jason asked. 

“Well, aside from you, no,” Dick said. 

Jason stared up at the ceiling, blinking a few times. “Wait, are you saying we lost our virginities the same night?”

“Did we?” Dick asked. “I thought you had experience!”

“What?! I was going in just as blind as you were!” Jason laughed. He rolled fully onto his side. “But hey, you had me fooled for twenty years.”

Dick met his eyes and smiled. “Yeah. You too.”

They held their gazes for a while, and then Jason sighed, his smile fading. “Well, I suppose you should get going now? You always had to be back before midnight.” Jason started sitting up. 

Dick did not want him to go. “Wait, Jason.”

“Hm?”

“I could... break the rules once, probably,” he said hesitantly. “I mean, I don’t have to go now.”

“Then what should we do?” Jason asked, leaning back into his hands to look down at Dick. 

Dick looked up at the ceiling. “Well,” he said slowly. “I haven’t... I haven’t gotten a kiss this year yet, and I kind of want one,” he said, his eyes flickering to Jason. 

“From me?”

Dick nodded. 

Jason gave him a smiled, then leaned down, pausing just a second before pressing his lips to Dick’s.

“Mmm,” Dick hummed, happy to feel the familiar buzz of Jason’s magic against his lips. Jason shifted into a better position, flipping himself over Dick, his hand moving to Dick’s hip. 

Dick grabbed his hand and pushed it under the skirt of his dress. 

Jason groaned contently, massaging Dick’s legs, working his way higher and higher until Dick’s dress pooled around his waist. Their kiss grew deeper, Jason’s tongue practically fucking Dick’s throat, not that the fairy minded. 

From there, it escalated even quicker. Within a few minutes, Jason’s loincloth was thrown aside, and he lined himself up against Dick’s naturally slick hole. 

Jason pushed his hips in until it met Dick’s, their bodies pressed together tightly, and Jason was buried in the familiar heat he had the chance to relish only once a year. 

“Fuck, Dickie,” he groaned, leaning down and kissing Dick briefly again before starting to snap his hips back and forth, thrusting deep into Dick. 

Dick moaned and licked his lips. “Fuck me good, Jay,” he panted. “Make me feel you tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that!”

Jason panted with the effort of pounding Dick, using a bit of magic to amplify his strength. The sturdy table shook with each thrust, and Dick would have slid along the surface of it, if it had not been for Jason holding his hips tightly. 

The small hollow of the tree was soon filled with the smell of their rough mating and the sounds of flesh hitting flesh and the breathless moans of both monarchs. 

Dick could tell when Jason was close. The buzzing under Jason’s skin because sharper and more frantic. When it got the point where it almost hurt Dick to be touching him, Jason slammed deep into Dick one last time, spilling his cum deep inside Dick’s body. 

Dick’s vision exploded with fairy dust as he came, the golden mist flew into the air like a bomb detonation. Jason’s name was ripped from his throat and his fingers dug into Jason’s arms, breaking skin. 

When the dust settled, both Dick and Jason were glowing, and Dick could not help but laugh at how ridiculous they must have both looked. 

Dick gently brushed some of Jason’s hair out of his face, making more fairy dust fall down onto him. “It’s a good look on you,” he told the other man. 

Jason chuckled. “I certainly can’t say I was expecting that,” he panted. He groaned as he slowly pulled out of Dick. “Well, that’s a sight,” he said, watching as his cum leaked out of Dick, catching the fairy’s glitter as it went and landed on the flood as a splotch of what looked like molten gold. 

Dick sat up slowly, shaking his head and sending a spray of fairy dust flying everywhere again. “I’ve never done that before,” Dick murmured. “Interesting.”

Jason kissed Dick’s golden lips. “I think it’s a sign you liked it.”

Dick laughed. “Of course I liked it, Jay.” He thumbed away the gold that was left on Jason’s lips after he pulled away. 

Jason took Dick’s hand and transferred the mark onto the back of Dick’s hand, but only succeeding in getting more dust onto his mouth. 

“I don’t know how I’ll explain this when I get back later,” Jason chuckled. 

“Me neither,” Dick grinned.

“Oh, Dickie,” Jason said fondly. “What am I ever going to do with you?”

“You can come see me more often,” Dick joked. “Then I don’t have to wait for one day every year to see you.”

“You know,” Jason said. “What if we share the waterfall area? It can be common ground, a neutral area that belongs to both sides. Both fairies and the unicorns can go there. And maybe... someday I’ll see their Queen there too.”

Dick gave Jason a shy smile. “Yeah, maybe.”

“I heard he’s beautiful,” Jason murmured. “The most beautiful creature in the forest.”

Dick’s eyes locked with Jason’s. “Really?” he asked softly. “Well, I heard he was second only to the King of the Unicorns.”

“Nah,” Jason whispered. “That can’t possibly be true. I would know.”

“Hm.”

Their lips met again, the kiss gentle and soft. It was not a good-bye like it usually was, it was a see-you-later. 

Just then, there was a soft gasp behind them. 

Both Dick and Jason whipped around to the source of the sound. 

“Hickory!” Dick said. “What are you doing here?”

The tiny fairy was shocked, and Dick was not sure if it was because of the fairy dust and cum or because he caught his Queen kissing the Unicorn King on the sacred meeting table in the tree. 

“Y-Your Majesty didn’t- didn’t come back at midnight, and- and we were worried!” Hickory managed to squeak out. 

Dick winced silently to himself. He should have guessed they would come looking for him. “I’m- I’m fine,” he said. “Um, heh.”

Hickory seemed to realize that Dick was indeed fine, and he had interrupted something. “Oh, Your Majesty! Hickory is very very sorry!” the tiny fairy exclaimed, spinning around immediately, covering his eyes. 

Dick blushed, and glanced at Jason, who was still standing there naked. Jason smirked at him, and Dick grew redder.

“Have some modesty in front of your subjects, your Majesty,” Jason teased, swooping in for another kiss. 

“You!” Dick scoffed, pushing Jason away after he got the kiss. Dick slid off the table and made an attempt of brushing away the incriminating golden fairy dust. “I guess I’ll see you sometime...?”

Jason grinned. “You know where to find me, Dickie,” he said. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

Dick smiled, adjusting his cape on his shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll see you soon, Jason.”

Jason gave him a smile, gave Dick one last kiss on the lips, and grabbed his loincloth. He tied it back around his waist and started for the exit of the tree, patting Hickory on the head with the tip of a finger. 

Hickory let out an embarrassed squeak. 

Dick laughed quietly, and he waited until the footsteps turned into the cantering of hooves and finally faded into the silence of the forest again. 

Dick cleared his throat then. “Alright, Hickory. Let’s go back home.”

“Yes, your Majesty!”

/╲/\╭( ͡° ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° ͡°)╮/\╱\

I am so sorry about being so behind on my prompts! I was hoping to make up the ones I missed after October, but I might just not do them anymore honestly.

[partiallystcrs]

hi here’s an unnecessarily long & detailed timeline for surayra during season 3 of primeval -   part 1 . 

events prior / during season 3 episode 1 

surayra joins the ARC approximately two weeks before the arrival of captain hilary becker. it’s with the death of stephen hart that lester realizes they may need some sort of person to monitor the team’s mental health since they’re shit at doing it themselves. ALL SESSIONS ARE MANDATORY.   in the time between the new arrivals, there’s a creature incursion , connor nearly dies ( this is nothing new, but it strikes a nerve since stephen ).   abby is the first to knock on surayra’s door willingly.  

it’s important to note : at this time , surayra has only seen blurry cctv footage of creature incursions. has rationalized that it’s simply a government conspiracy , & she’s here to monitor the effects on the team .  

james lester has a session immediately upon returning from a meeting with christine johnson ; sar’s office is made soundproof afterwards . captain becker arrives ,  has his first session almost immediately upon returning to the arc. he’s late & does not stay the entire hour mandated ; sar notes in his file that he’s probably going a little bit mental .   doctor sarah page arrives , seeks out the office of the woman tasked at keeping the team sane ; she stays for an hour & forty - five minutes , they become fast friends. sar notes that she’s the first civilian added to the team in ages , poor thing is also going mental . 

upon returning home for the evening , she’s found that her fiance of three years has left with all his belongings. though she’s had a classified government job for years , the new position has taken a serious toll on the relationship , as she cannot even hint at what it is.  she returns to work the next day without even a trace of emotion. she has a job to do. 

events following episode 2 - events of episode 3 

after the cleaner infiltrates the arc , it’s required of nick cutter to have a sit down with sar .  he enters the room for fifteen minutes , & leaves without so much as sitting down.  connor is also given a required session to discuss being arrested & if it will impact how he works from then on .   a session that should have been completed in an hour ; they are finished in three , & surayra instead decides to sleep on the couch she has in her office.  the next night she’s out at a pub & meets a cop who has just quit his job. with sar coming off a fresh breakup , they decide to spend the night together. they continue to see each other off & on , he starts getting curious about this classified government job that keeps her up at night with files at her kitchen table . 

while the team is hunting diictodons down hospital wings , sar is forced to start looking into getting a guide dog . she’s going through the files on her desk when she is forcibly removed from the building by a man wielding a gun. upon being led outside , she immediately begins to comfort those who have been traumatized by the events , keeping her own trauma in check .  the arc is blown up , cutter is murdered . surayra keeps busy within the next few weeks in a spare office with an open door policy. it takes her little time to get the team back to their sense of normal , & helps them properly grieve cutter’s death.   

it’s also during this time that lester forces her & captain becker to work together when coming up with the security teams , & what men go where. it’s a new experience & a small test of faith in each other’s viewings of the men  ; it works out brilliantly . 

when she gets her office back , she immediately sets to work at creating it a safe space.  she is allowed to bring in two  75 gal fish tanks , & sets one up as a saltwater tank & the other as a freshwater tank . it sets her office apart from the rest of the work being done in the arc , & she’s told by more than a few that it’s refreshing. she marks those down as good days,  & also begins storing snacks in the top drawer of her office desk. 

events prior to & during episode 5

with the insistence of a close friend , & ultimately a forged signature , surayra is gifted with a year old belgian malinois ; he serves as both her guide dog & an emotional support dog.  despite her deep love for dogs , there is an obvious dislike on sar’s part for the dog. she accepts him anyway , but names him سگ  ( farsi word for dog ; pronounced SAGH ).   

two days after the last time she’s spent the night with the ex-cop , he’s broken into the ARC.  without her knowing , he’s gone through her papers while she slept & put the two & two together about her job & the people he’s helped at the airport.   it’s embarrassing , she gets a proper yelling from lester about it , & glares from the captain .   she decides it best to take dog for a walk through the arc , to get him used to her work .  she is back in her office by the time the team goes out & is having a session with one of the researchers when connor returns with a sample of the fungus. 

she is on her way to find another one of her appointments when she gets a good look at what the fungal sample as become.  it’s during this moment that she realizes the team hasn’t gone crazy , & spends the rest of the day going through her files on each team member & reevaluating.  even when the arc is evacuated , she is sat curbside with dog watching over her while she continues to go through her files .  

she has to give jenny lewis one last session before she leaves , & offers to keep in touch . they never do , & sar closes her file, leaving a glowing review of her mental health.  simply needs space .  following that , she has a session with danny quinn , having to see if he’s fit to be a part of the team.  he gives her a wink , she gives him a pointed look ,  he is cleared for duty without a word spoken during their ‘ session ’. 

she spends the night in her office again , having gone over each file of becker’s men twice over , having been unimpressed by their lack of action while the mushroom was in the arc.  immediately the next day , they are found in his office making new teams & tactical decisions. 

[glitchrpgmain]

                     WELCOME TO THE UNDERWORLD.

congratulations ROWEN ! you have been accepted into underworldfm. the role of RUBY will be portrayed by PARK MIN-KYU. PARK JIMIN is now taken. please submit your blog within the next 24 hours & be sure to follow the guidelines outlined in our checklist.

the depth and rich history you gave minkyu truly puts your application at such a high level -- we are blown away by the thought you put into him! the hardships and sorrows, the growth which minkyu endured to get to the place he is in now. it’s phenomenal and we think you took the bare bones provided in ruby’s skeleton and really made it your own!

IC

character. ruby

name. park min-kyu

age. 923

gender & pronouns. cis male, he/him

BIOGRAPHY.

there isn’t all too much that minkyu remembers of his human life. the only thing that stayed with him until present day is how cruel humanity is.

his childhood was spent by his grandfather’s side. his parents nowhere to be found– whether they died or abandoned him hasn’t been documented. minkyu and his grandfather travelled through korea at the end of the 11th century, pulling forth a carriage filled with merchant ware. they would sell food, cloth or other useful items to whoever would want to buy. from the money they earned, they bought new items, usually to restock their carriage, rarely something for themselves. it was a hard life, but they were alive and that was good enough. they slept under the stars and on a particularly lucky day, they’d sleep in a farmer’s stables in a warm bed of prickly hay. his grandfather taught him how to count and how to use the stars and the sun to navigate their way through the country.

wherever they went, his grandfather would greet people with a smile and a bow. the two of them were always polite, however it was very rare for people to be polite in return. often they’d get scolded, yelled at or forced to move on to another village. while they sold items from all over the country, not many people were interested in buying. they were often treated like the farm animals they sometimes slept beside.

things changed drastically when minkyu met his sire.

it was a particularly cold winter evening when his grandfather pulled out some coins he had saved just to buy them a warm meal at an inn. halfway through their meal, the door to the rather busy inn opened with a bang. the room fell silent as everyone looked at the dark hooded figures walking in. they scattered around the space before two figures in black and red cloaks walked in. they didn’t say anything, instead they walked around the room and started pointing at young people. when one pointed at minkyu, his grandfather stood up and demanded to know what was going on.

instead of being scolded or hit like minkyu expected, one of the two in black and red walked over. she explained just what it was they were doing. at the top of the mountain hovering above the village, there stood a castle. and within that castle lived royalty. it was this royalty that were looking for new staff, the hooded figures were asked to bring young people in to see if they were suitable for this new job. the pay was good and minkyu was allowed to send money to his grandfather.

at first, minkyu was hesitant to leave his grandfather behind, but he assured him that it was the best thing. that it was time for minkyu to find his own path in life. and so minkyu willingly followed the figures up the steep climb to the fortress where he would spend the next six hundred years of his life.

from the moment he stepped foot on the property, minkyu knew things were different here. from the very first moment, he was treated with respect. of course, not as much as someone with status would be, but it was more than he’s ever been shown in his entire life. despite being a servant, at the very bottom of the castle’s hierarchy, he was never made to feel like a nobody. despite not being worth much, he still made sure those above him had food on their table and a clean bed to sleep in.

for the first year, minkyu didn’t know who exactly he was serving. he knew they weren’t a king or queen, let alone a prince or princess– but who they were? he had no clue. they were important, but that’s all he knew. no one would ever answer his questions about them either. they told him to stop asking so many questions, to stop putting his nose into things that didn’t concern him. but minkyu was too curious to just let it slide.

sometimes servants went missing. they were told they quit their jobs to go do something else, but it never made much sense to minkyu. they got paid far above the minimum, even when they didn’t really need it for they were provided with food and a bed. he couldn’t imagine what was worth giving this job up for.

after working there for nearly three years, minkyu got called up to the great hall. he entered the room, unsure of what was waiting for him, of why he was to be brought here. the sides of the room were lined with people, all wearing the same hooded cloaks from that first night. daring a glance to the side once or twice, minkyu noticed faces he hadn’t seen in months or years. servants that had disappeared without a trace. he tried to control his breathing as he continued to walk forwards, to the man and woman seated at the very end of the room.

minkyu was told to kneel, and so he did. he sat on his knees, hands in his lap and head bowed. what happened next was something he couldn’t have imagined. the man and woman in front of him explained who they were, what they were. it all sounded like complete madness. they told him of mythical creatures, of strength and wisdom far beyond a human’s capability. of where they came from and where they were planning on going. at the end of the long speech, minkyu’s wrist was red from where he kept squeezing himself, desperate to wake up from this strange dream. they gave him a simple choice.

“do you want to join us, minkyu?”

he doesn’t remember what he said in response. he doesn’t remember if he replied in an instant or if he stayed silent for hours. he only remembers a soft hand on his cheek, two bright blue though kind eyes and the pain as two fangs punctured the skin of his neck.

he was given an opportunity and he took it with both hands. unlike the humans minkyu has met through his life, these people, these creatures, have been nothing but kind to him. even though – as he learned later on – that humans are their food, they didn’t play with their food. they saw them as equal, at least the ones living under the same roof. and perhaps it was because they planned on turning them all, they planned on creating their own army of strong vampires, ready to fight by their sides. perhaps they were only ever kind to him as a human because they expected something more from him in the future. but minkyu never cared. he never saw it that way. he always thought of them as family, before and after he got turned.

throughout the beginning of his new life, minkyu learned what it was like to be a creature of the night with the help of the servants he used to know. as a fledgling, he didn’t interact much with his sire. with so many having gone through the same experiences, it wasn’t as difficult to adapt as he would have expected.

after his first few decades, it was obvious that this life was meant for him. every task he was asked to complete, every mission he was asked to go on, he succeeded every time. and every time he asked for more. more to do, more to learn. now with all the time in the world, minkyu wanted it all. after a while, he grew closer to his sire. first as a servant, then later on as he climbed the ranks. until finally, he stood by her side during every important moment. it wasn’t easy, but it was worth it. minkyu fought his way to the top and proved himself time and time again.

somewhere along the way, something else blossomed and came alive. first he looked at her with adoration for the life she had given him, but after a while– it became something else. minkyu never acted on his feelings, too afraid that he might destroy what they’ve built together. too afraid he’d be overstepping the invisible boundaries set for them. but even if she didn’t reciprocate his feelings, that never stopped him from being completely and utterly loyal to her and the rest of their coven. without a doubt, he would lay his life on the line just to protect hers.

and that day came at the end of the 17th century. there had been talk of a new creature of the night rising through asia. however, the news was always days, weeks if not months old before it arrived at their fortress. strength in numbers, that was always their motto. but the enemy’s strength laid in the undiscovered. never before had they seen or even heard of a lycan. when they took the village and later on the castle, they couldn’t have been more unprepared. while they had no idea what they were fighting, the other side seemed to know their every weakness. it was a lost battle from the very beginning.

minkyu never left her side. even when she told him to run, he refused to leave. her brother was already dead. they both knew they wouldn’t make it out alive and he refused to let her die alone. when the dogs came for them, minkyu had moved himself in front of her, protecting her even in the last moments. and in the last seconds before the stake could reach his heart, she moved them around and got stabbed in front of him. he’ll never forget the look on her face as she reached for his face while her last breath left her lips. with no time to hold her body in his arms, minkyu threw his all at the lycan in front of him. he screamed, clawed and bit his way through the filthy dog’s body until there was nothing left but a heap of bones and blood.

as he shook with a rage he’d never felt before, minkyu made his way through the castle. he ripped out throats with his bare teeth, pulled out hearts with his hands. the moment his sire died was the birth of a new kind of monster. he’s not sure if he had always been this strong or if he was gifted with her power– it didn’t matter. the rage, the adrenaline, it was what kept him going until they were all gone. the ones he couldn’t reach in time ran away, howling for their pack. and minkyu was left alone, his people, his family, his home– there was nothing left.

minkyu allowed himself a single day to grieve. after that, he got his stuff and left. in search of a new place, but most of all, in search of a new army that would help him take down these monsters.

on his travels, his company grew. first he turned one or two humans, but as the distance from home grew, the need for company grew with it. they travelled through asia, looking for a new place to settle down– one with less pain attached to it. word got out to them of a new coven being established in a new world, led by a pureblood. it all sounded far too good to be true, yet minkyu still headed out towards it, intrigued to see it for himself.

the journey was long and it gave minkyu plenty of time to think. he would wonder if this new place they’re heading out for would feel the same as the home he had known for the past six centuries. the little information they had received sounded oddly familiar. yet minkyu wasn’t planning on falling in love with whoever was in charge this time. he had devoted his life to her, he had given her everything he had. no one would ever even come close to him like that. – at least not until he was sure any and all lycans were wiped out from this planet.

upon arriving at the new world, minkyu was reminded of humanity again. of the kind of mortals he so despised. it seemed like the worst of the worst were gathered here. while being not much more than a cold-blooded killer himself, the acts he witnessed upon his journey through this new land made his blood run even colder. it was here that he started to see them as nothing more than his food.

when minkyu and his party arrived at the freshly established coven, it had already been in operation for a decade or two. minkyu introduced himself to aleksander and was surprised to be taken in so easily. he didn’t tell him of what fate had brought to their doorstep, didn’t tell him that his sire and all the other purebloods were dust. he first tried to figure out what kind of man aleksander was, if he could trust him. with minkyu’s resume however, it appeared to be easy to reach the top. and perhaps it is there where it all went wrong. for minkyu rarely had to prove himself, rarely had to prove his loyalty. with someone so eager to help and to advise, aleksander never questioned minkyu’s motives. it was an easy mistake to make, but it’ll be a fatal one in the end.

for the past three centuries, minkyu has stood by aleksander’s side. he has helped him, guided him, advised him. he has given him strength through difficult times. he has given him security through uncertain times. and throughout it all, minkyu remained loyal to himself only. some of the vampires he brought with him passed away during the wars, some left on their own, yet minkyu remained. he saw the potential here. he saw the cracks in the armor where he could slip into like the sly snake he is. one day he’s going to take over and as every day passes, minkyu feels the moment come closer and closer.

[imaginepirates]

Mini Series

A Duel 

Alright, people. First off: a huge thanks to anyone who read this stuff. I’m happy to see that even a small amount of people appreciated it. It’s the last chapter! Hope you guys enjoyed! @chiminie-pabo

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5

You were confused. James or Jack? It was the one question going through your mind. You liked the intoxicating feeling Jack gave you, but you appreciated the domestic things you and James did just as much. James or Jack? It gave you a headache. 

It was true that James hadn’t kissed you like Jack had, but you had no doubt that he had the same feelings for you. He just wasn’t as good at showing them. You figured James was the kind of person who would consider your personal space, and try to make his feelings clear in a way that didn’t feel intrusive. It was thoughtful of him. 

Thinking about both men gave you a headache. You liked them both very much, if you were to tell the truth. Life was certainly different with them around. For the first time, you really felt like you had friends. You didn’t want to ruin those relationships, but you wouldn’t mind being more than friends with either of them. But to choose between them…

The bar opened, which you were thankful for. It gave you a bit of a distraction. Still, every time James brushed into you while helping out, you couldn’t suppress the shock you felt upon contact. 

He had healed up to the point where he could leave the bar without any worry, but he’d preferred to stick around. You appreciated the gesture. The morning was busy, so having a helping hand was wonderful. You were on your feet the whole time, and James had it no better. You figured that a few ships had come in on the morning tide.

By afternoon, business died down, and James took his leave. You vaguely wondered when he would leave for good. He had to return to his home at some point. The navy likely wouldn’t keep him away long, especially if he was a captain. You didn’t like the thought of his leaving.

It was another factor you’d taken into account. James would leave, and Jack would stay. Whenever Jack left to do what he might, he always had the option of returning. He wasn’t part of high society, and neither were you. You might not even see James again. The thought was depressing. 

Jack swaggered up to the bar, having come through the back door. The sight of him was bittersweet. Thankfully, he acted like he always had before, like nothing had changed from the beginning. Like the kiss had never happened. In truth, you were glad, partly because you didn’t want your customers to see the change in your relationship, and partly because you didn’t want to think about it. Mostly because you didn’t want to think about it. 

He was in a good mood. It made you happy to have him around. Between serving drinks and talking to him, your attention was pretty divided. 

“How’ve you been these past few days?” You asked. “I haven’t seen you much.”

“I’ve been as usual. Drunk and looking for a good ship.” He leaned in close to your ear. “But I’m much better now that I’ve seen you.” He winked as he pulled away. 

You smiled despite yourself. You set some drinks down on the table in front of you, and there was a small clicking noise. 

You turned. There, standing with all the authority you expected that he possessed, was James. He held a pistol point blank at Jack, who raised his hands in defeat. 

“You think I hand’t figured out how you evaded me? If it hadn’t been for the blasted gunshot wound, you would’ve been dead already.”

“Ah.” Jack stared down the barrel. “What do you say to a proper duel? A real fight. I can tell you’re itching for one, mate.”

“I don’t have a habit of making deals with pirates.” James’ sneer looked more like a grimace, and it might have had something to do with the way he avoided eye contact with you. 

Jack noticed. “It’ll be a good show for the lady. I don’t think she fancies seeing my brains blown out across her apron.”

You shook your head. 

“Keep her out of this, Sparrow.” James’ voice sounded a bit tight. 

Jack’s eyes flecked back and forth between you and James. “You do want to impress her. Let’s see what she would favor. A fair fight, or should good old Norri kill me right here?”

They both stared at you. 

“I don’t want to clean up blood tonight. Have a proper fight, and the winner should take their due outside. I don’t want to see it.” You tried to sound as indifferent as possible, but it wasn’t working. 

“Alright then. What do you say, Mr. Norrington?” Jack smirked. 

James, still looking at you, uncooked his pistol and put it away. His gaze dropped to the floor. 

The two men took up fighting positions, space having been cleared by customers. People wanted to watch. They stood a good twenty paces apart and turned, lowering their swords into a ready position. James assumed a defensive stance, and Jack initiated a series of thrusts that James had little trouble blocking. Feinting to the left, James took the opportunity to whip his blade to the opposite side, nearly catching Jack on the cheek. 

Not to be outdone, Jack changed the footwork pattern. They danced in a circle, trying to avoid jabs. Jack lunged out twice, and with great force, because James had a hard time deflecting the blows. Jack was much stronger than you had originally thought. It was a wiry type of strength, and combined with his quick pace, it put James on his guard. 

They couldn’t seem to find weak points in each other’s defenses. James tried to jab low and pull his blade up at the last second, but Jack managed to duck left and let the blade pass over his shoulder. Jack, taking advantage of the situation, stabbed out towards James’ abdomen, but James sidestepped the blow, bringing his sword down at lightning speed and stepped back into position. 

In a series of jabs, Jack passed his sword directly under James’, and the point rested lightly against James’ stomach. At the same time, the tip of James’ sword came to rest on Jack’s neck at the collarbone. They looked at each other with a mixture of disappointment and pride. 

“A tie,” James said bitterly. 

Jack shrugged lightly, but didn’t take his sword away from its place at James’ stomach. He turned to you. “What do you say? Do we leave it be, or do we take turns stabbing each other in the street?”

The image that came to mind was morbidly amusing. “I thought that was your choice. Or are you both so smitten with me that you’ll let me decide.”

Jack winced, and you thought that it was quite possible that all the blood in James’ body rushed to his face. 

“That’s a bold claim to make.” Jack had quickly recovered back to himself. 

“That doesn’t make it any less true.” The men shifted uncomfortably. “I’d rather you both live. There would be no point in killing off my two biggest admirers.”

The bar was set into an uproar. Somebody shouted something about bets on who would have you as their prize, and wagers started. If pirates liked anything, it was a gamble.

“I think I’d like to take the rest of this out back, if neither of you would mind,” you hissed. You really didn’t need everybody knowing all your personal feelings. 

The three of you stepped behind the bar. Both men looked uncertain. It made you feel like you had a measure of power over them, but you were a bit nervous yourself. You’d hoped that confronting them wouldn’t come until much later. 

You swallowed. “I know you want an answer on who I like more.” It took every ounce of willpower to keep your voice steady. Then, you did what they would’ve least expected. Grabbing Jack by the front of the shirt, you kissed him hard on the lips. He only had a second for satisfaction before you did much the same to James, whom you left a sputtering mess. “There’s your answer,” you said. 

“You like us both?” James spluttered.

“I didn’t expect you to be that kind of woman.” Jack wore an awful self-satisfied smirk, but you only rolled your eyes at his comment. 

“It is a turn of events, isn’t it?” You smiled. 

“The question is: what now?” Asked Jack. “Norri, I assume you still want me dead?”

“Either that or in irons,” he said dryly. 

“And I would rather not end up that way,” Jack responded. 

James sighed. “I doubt this is the last time I’ll hunt you down. I believe the official report will read that you left as soon as I arrived, catching wind of my coming from an inside source. That’ll keep the navy busy for a good long while. I hope they don’t catch anyone.”

“I’m in your debt, sir.” Jack made a little mock bow. “And now, I shall excuse myself before dear old Norrington changes his mind.” He gave you a kiss before leaving, and James raised his eyebrows. As if there weren’t enough kisses to go ‘round. 

James did just what he said he would, leaving in the morning. “I shall suppose that I’ll be back here, searching for Mr. Sparrow again. I should think that I’ll need a place to stay.” He smiled at you, and leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your lips. 

Jack, too, left. He’d found a ship somewhere, and a little crew, and he had piratical business to attend to. “I’ll be thirsty when I get back,” he assured you. 

You didn’t need it. You knew that you’d see him again. You’d see them both again. 

[friendlyspiderbite]

repost:

                                     O F  F A I L U R E  A N D  D U S T

INFINITY WAR DRABBLE

EDITED AND REVISED: NOW WITH EVEN MORE PAIN!

WORD COUNT: 2,224 WORDS

        “Magic! More magic! Magic with a kick! Magic with a–!” Peter is cut off when Thanos GRABS him by the neck and SLAMS him into the ground. As he struggles in a sudden PANIC, he can hear the word hissed by the giant: “INSECT.” And then he’s THROWN off to the side, YELPING in the process. He smacks into Mr. Strange as he flies through the air and then hits the ground HARD. Sitting up slowly and holding his head, he lets out a low GROAN.

        “You know, spiders aren’t INSECTS. They’re ARACHNIDS so if anything the joke’s on YOU…” He mutters under his breath before hopping back up and making a run for Thanos. He sees Mr. Stark BLASTED with a ray of FIRE and FEAR curls in his chest. Yeah. This isn’t exactly how Peter had wanted this day to go. At least, it wasn’t what he was EXPECTING. He was supposed to be on a field trip, joking around with Ned. Not in SPACE. Peter launches himself at the Mad Titan and webs the gauntlet, landing on the ground a little ways away and PULLING, but he’s overthrown, the giant yanks on his webs and THROWS him again. Slamming once again into the ground, Peter watches him get hit by some sort of spaceship.

   The mutant sees his opening as Mr. Strange encases the titan’s hand with weird magic bond things. He swings in and wraps his web around the dude. Thanos is so TALL, so POWERFUL. He’s frankly quite SCARY. Peter pulls HARD on that web,  but even with everything holding Thanos back his strength still isn’t enough. He feels the mechanical spider legs unleash from his back and PLUNGE into the ground beneath him, watches as Mr. Strange opens up circle thing for Mantis to fall through onto the titan’s shoulders and pulls with all his might. He hears the alien girl speak, “Be quick, he is strong,” and then Mr. Stark calling for him. The kid drops the web and leaps over to the other side where his hero is currently trying to pull the gauntlet off Thanos’s hand. He latches on and begins to pull, giving it his all once more. He puts every ounce of enhanced strength he has into this ( but it still isn’t enough, he’s worthless ).

        “We gotta open his fingers to get it off…” He exclaims suddenly, moving to pry the titan’s fingers open. He can hear the metal creaking. The stones are gorgeous, he notices somewhat subconsciously. He can hear a conversation happening, he can hear Quill questioning the titan, but he doesn’t care. He’s so close, as he STRUGGLES he can feel the gauntlet SLIPPING off Thanos’s hand. It’s going to be okay! They’re going to WIN. He’ll be able to go home and see Aunt May and Ned and the universe will be okay. But then he hears Quill YELLING. He’s SO CLOSE! Quill HITS him but the gauntlet is nearly OFF THANOS’S HAND, Peter has it in his grasp!

        “It’s coming, it’s coming, it’s coming! I’ve got it, I’ve got it!!” But in a flash, the titan has suddenly grabbed it back and the amount of FORCE the kid was using to PULL on that thing makes him FLY BACK about a hundred feet, smacking into the ground. The teenager’s eyes blow wide as he hits it. That stings. It stings his whole being, the fact that he just FAILED when he was so damn CLOSE to succeeding, any hope of that success CRUSHED in a mere SECOND. He feels it with his entire SOUL. He ALMOST had it. And then he DIDN’T. His mind wanders back to the Staten Island Ferry incident, where he had been 98% SUCCESSFUL, and it blows up in his head that THIS IS ALWAYS GOING TO HAPPEN TO HIM. The mutant snaps out of it as he watches Mantis get thrown off as well and eyes blow wide again.

        “Oh god–“ and then he’s HURLING himself at her. Arms and legs wrap around the alien and the mechanical spider legs EXTEND into a cage around them. When they hit the ground, they roll, and the legs help stop them and right him so that he can hold her in his arms, checking that she’s okay for a moment. He watches three of his teammates become immobilized, he sees the parts of the moon crash into the planet, sees those three floating away helplessly. He knows he has to help them, so he goes after them. Shooting webs everywhere, he carries Mantis most of the way as he flies after his unconscious teammates.

       “I got you! I got you! Agh, SORRY I can’t remember any of your names!!” He yells as he webs the Footloose Guy to him as parts of the moon rain down on Titan. He’s distracted now, sure that Mr. Stark and Mr. Strange will be able to handle Thanos. They’re so amazing. Peter takes his time because he believes in THEM, he does what he does best, stays back and helps the little guy. He brings them to a place where gravity is normal enough and sets them down, returning in time to watch Mr. Stark fight with Thanos. He watches, feeling like a little kid again, as his hero seems to be WINNING. He doesn’t notice Mr. Strange lying on the ground defeated because he’s excited. The technology that his hero has been developing for so long is working!! He BELIEVES in Tony Stark, he BELIEVES in Iron Man!

   But then he WATCHES his hero’s helmet stripped away. He WATCHES ( ONLY WATCHES! ) as the man is punched out and thrown to the ground. He WATCHES Thanos pull the piece of armor off the gauntlet and use the power stone. But Mr. Stark is up again! Peter WATCHES his hero form a great shield with his armor, sees the tremendous power of the power stone itself DEFLECTED by this shield, and HOPE rises in his chest. He doesn’t quite know why he’s only watching, but he is. He’s frozen in place, blown back to the time his parents died, only WATCHING as the drones got them. Only WATCHING, crying, as the drone came for him too. He sees Tony Stark fly in and KICK the titan, he sees him get a big swing in and HOOK him on the face. The titan has bled! Peter can see BLOOD on his cheek!!

   But then Mr. Stark is THROWN BACK and BEATEN on repeatedly. Peter WATCHES ( he’s bouncing, biting his lip. He can’t make himself move into action, he has TOO MUCH FAITH in this man ) as his hero is flung back, hitting the ground again. He WATCHES the man shoot the repulsors, WATCHES as they are deflected. He does NOTHING. And he HATES IT. The sword forms on Mr. Stark’s arm and Peter believes, wholeheartedly, that this man can do it, he can KILL Thanos. But no. A hand claps over his mouth as the titan breaks the sword off like a TOOTHPICK and uses it to STAB his hero in the gut. He lets out an anguished sound, eyes suddenly filling with TEARS. He’s USELESS. He should be HELPING. He should be doing something, ANYTHING, but he isn’t. He can hear the titan talking, so loudly in his ears. He can hear EVERYTHING.

   Thanos’s words, “I hope they remember you.” reach his ears and he can’t move. He’s PARALYZED. The heroes are losing. They’re LOSING. He can’t fathom it. HE CAN’T MAKE HIMSELF MOVE. He wants to help. He WANTS TO HELP. He WATCHES as his mentor, the man he looks up to so much, the man who saved his life TWICE, is very nearly KILLED. He WATCHES, FROZEN IN PLACE, as Mr. Strange gives up the Time Stone so that he’ll live. And he WATCHES as the Mad Titan DISAPPEARS right then and there, Quill standing up with guns frantically pointing in every direction, yelling “Where is he!.” Peter can’t BELIEVE himself. He feels DISGUSTING. He’s a WASTE OF SPACE, a WASTE OF ARMOR. He could have aided his mentor, but he DIDN’T. And he HATES and LOATHES himself for it. His senses are prickling and his muscles are twitching and he just STANDS there for another minute before moving in to help Mr. Stark.

        “I’ve got you…” He says quietly, voice WAVERING. It’s okay. It’s going to be OKAY. As long as people back on earth can keep Thanos from getting Vision, from getting the mind stone out of his head, everything will be OKAY. He muscles his mentor up onto his feet and pats his back gently with SHAKING hands. He believes that they’re going to be okay. He believes that everyone back on Earth is going to be able to keep the mind stone from Thanos. He hates himself so much for NOT HELPING. At least then he might have died TRYING. But now all he can do is muster up the belief that everyone on Earth will prevail.

   Then he hears it. Something he doesn’t quite UNDERSTAND, something that RINGS in his ears and makes him CRINGE and FLINCH. The teenager looks around FRANTICALLY because that sounded like a SNAP. Eyes are wide, fingers twitching. He’s suddenly TERRIFIED. His senses start to BUZZ up passively and he hears Mantis speak, “Something is happening.” His eyes flit over to her and he takes a step back in SHOCK when he sees DUST breaking off her. His breath catches in his throat and he knows now that they’ve just LOST. He watches as the alien girl DISAPPEARS and turns his head to see the big guy ( he thinks his name is Drax ) turn to dust as well. NO. His heart is beating HEAVILY, his breath becoming shallower and SHALLOWER as his senses dial up another degree. He hears what Quill says, watches him disappear. His hands are shaking UNCONTROLLABLY. His senses are rising up, he’s sweating terribly, and he feels like he’s going to be SICK. His head whips around as Mr. Strange speaks up, and seeing him go makes him fall into a SILENT PANIC. Are they stuck on this planet alone? What’s HAPPENING?

   Then he FEELS it. Peter’s senses SKYROCKET, kicking into MAXIMUM OVERDRIVE, and his stomach rolls. The teenager CLUTCHES his arms around himself and breathes heavily. When he exhales, DUST comes from his throat.

        “MR. STARK..?” He says with a SHAKY voice, stepping forward some towards the man. His entire body feels WEIRD, his senses are STABBING him and he wants to CRY. He does, he does cry. No ugly sobbing, but tears well up and roll down his cheeks.

        “I DON’T FEEL SO GOOD...” He keeps moving forward. He hears the other’s words, “You’re alright,” but he ISN’T alright and he KNOWS it. He looks down at his hands, mouth opening and closing like a fish. He looks back up at Mr. Stark, then back down, then up at him again.

        “I don’t… I DON’T KNOW WHAT’S HAPPENING, I don’t know–!” He STUMBLES forward. Legs feel WEAK. He falls against his mentor, hands FUMBLING to get a grip on him, to EMBRACE him. Everything HURTS. He doesn’t want to die. HE DOESN’T WANT TO DIE!

        “I don’t wanna go… I DON’T WANNA GO, SIR, PLEASE…” his hands grip DESPERATELY at the man’s clothes. His senses are stabbing everywhere, the PAIN is all he has to know that he’s still ALIVE. He uses that pain, CLINGS to it with EVERYTHING he has… “PLEASE, I don’t wanna go! I DON’T WANT TO GO!!” His words DEGRADE into SOBS as he feels the ground DISAPPEAR beneath himself. Except he knows that it isn’t the GROUND that is gone, but his LEGS. His fingers give out and break apart and he DRAGS Mr. Stark down to the ground with him, leaving his fingers on his mentor’s shoulders... He can feel his senses start to FADE, as the nerves strip away LAYER BY LAYER, but he’s STILL clinging to life. He clings to life even though it hurts so TERRIBLY bad. Lying on the ground now, he feels sobs wrack his body, but he doesn’t make a sound. He REMEMBERS something Mr. Stark said to him, “If you die, I feel like that’s on me.” NO. This isn’t his fault. This would have happened ANYWAY, right? If anything, this is Peter’s fault. He was useless. He FAILED. The child’s eyes shift to look at his hero as EVEN HIS TEARS TURN TO DUST. His whole body is DISINTEGRATING, DECAYING, DETERIORATING, but he needs to say one last thing to this man who has helped him through his ENTIRE life and probably doesn’t even KNOW it. He feels so ATTACHED to him and wants to make that APPARENT. All he can muster is a WHISPER, but he HAS to.

        “I’m sorry–“ DAD. He wasn’t able to get that last part out. His BREATH comes out as DUST blowing right into Mr. Stark’s face, and he feels life SLIPPING away from him. His chest CRUMBLES and CAVES and he can feel every single bit of it, and until the VERY LAST SECOND, Peter Parker clings to this life with ALL HIS MIGHT. He doesn’t want to go. He doesn’t want to go.

                                   But it’s too late. HE’S ALREADY GONE.