#no matter how much i try to ignore it the first zed one just keeps looking like a foreign arm is coming out of nowhere bc of his jersey

[imjustavenuxwithaboomerang]

zombies + text posts

(2 3)

[votederpycausemufins]

Alright, I got the second part of my vaccine, also got tested for the virus by my school (randomly chosen and it just so happened to be the same day as my vaccine appointment), safely met with my family, and then I’m like 50ish% sure I threw my back out? but it’s my upper back and not lower which is why I’m not sure.

So yeah, chapter is a bit short, but I wanted to get one out today.

@petrichormeraki @helleborusangel​

Mumbo tried to ignore everyone talking as he worked with Grumbot. He was using the handkerchief he normally kept on him to clean the redstone from his hands to clean up the robot. He had gotten a bit of the water that had been left in Tommy’s inventory to make the cloth damp and started carefully washing everything off Grumbot’s body, though some redstone was left behind. He frowned at how much was coming off onto the cloth and the fact that he needed to clean that off too. 

Slowly but surely, all the grime was washing off and being replaced with shiny metal. There were still dents and cracks, but just cleaning the robot up helped as an improvement. Mumbo dried any spots that were still wet to make sure no water got into Grumbot’s circuits before standing up and stretching, having been in an awkward pose to clean everything up with Grumbot refusing to do anything but stay curled up in a ball.

“How’s he doing?” Phil asked as Mumbo walked over.

“”Well, he’s clean at the very least. I don’t have anything to work on physical repairs and I’m terrified about what I’ll see when checking on the circuitry.” Mumbo looked around at the group. “Techno’s still not here?”

Phil shook his head. “I haven’t heard anything. It’s getting to the point I’m starting to worry. But trying to find him with everything going on won’t be the easiest thing. So we just hope he sends something back on where he is or wait until we can’t wait anymore.”

Mumbo nodded, and then the two of them were surprised as they got messages sent to their communicators.

[Eyes] X-T, Y-T, Z-T

“Do you think that’s-” Mumbo started.

“Techno’s coordinates? Possibly. So far whatever this is has been sending us help.”

“Take EX with you? I of course should be staying back here for Jrum.”

“I’ll probably be fine on my own.”

“He’ll make the trip faster. And if something is wrong, better to save time.”

The avian ended up relenting and walked over to talk to the helsmit. In a matter of seconds the two of them were gone and Mumbo went back over to Grumbot. He winced at the sparks that flew from the holes in Grumbot’s torso. Obviously he needed to at least get a look at what was going on in there. His hand moved to turn Grumbot off, but just before he could press the power button, he was stopped. “Please don’t.”

“Grum?” Mumbo asked quietly, not completely sure he heard Grumbot speak with how quiet the words were.

“C-can’t turn off. Th-that would b-be bad. N-No admin.”

Mumbo immediately pulled his hand away. That was right. Theseus had disappeared with Dream, so for now Grumbot being the console was likely the one thing keeping this world stable. Mumbo also quickly plugged Grumbot in to make sure it didn’t run out of power.

“Do you need anything?”

“I don’t know h-how to answer th-that.”

“Why not?”

“I-It’s confusing. And I-I’m tired.”

“Do you want to go into sleep mode?”

“I… I shouldn’t n-need s-sleep. O-only need b-battery.”

Mumbo hugged Grumbot. “It’s okay if you go to sleep. No one will get upset at you.”

Grumbot shook it’s head. “Need to f-fix first. T-Tommy not a-awake. Sh-should be. A-And f-fix t-time. C-can’t without-”

Mumbo held Grumbot closer. “You don’t need to do anything except rest. You’ve been through a lot, both you and your brother.”

“H-had to h-hurt him to h-help him. K-keep him a-away. D-didn’t know what w-was happening. Didn’t know wh-what else to do.”

“Well…” Mumbo wasn’t sure what to say. Jrum obviously hadn’t had the best experience while stuck here, but it wasn’t as bad as what happened to Grumbot. And for all the redstoner knew, Jrum could have ended up in the same situation as his brother if nothing had been done. “While  I don’t… fully approve with the methods… at the very least your brother is not… the worst he could be.”

Grumbot gave a slight nod before speaking again. “Is th-there anything you w-want Console to do?”

“What do you mean?” Mumbo asked, curious by the phrasing.

“What th-things need to b-be done?”

Mumbo frowned. “Grum, you don’t need to do anything. Please just go to sleep.”

There was a pause from Grumbot as it processed what was said, then went into sleep mode. Mumbo sighed in relief as he could feel Grumbot relax in his arms. He put the robot back down on the bed and tucked it in before checking on Grian and Jrum. After making sure they were all asleep, he collapsed in a chair.

“Are you doing okay?” Mumbo looked up to see someone who, because he was so tired, he thought was himself for a split second. 

“Tired. But to be completely honest, I’ve been more exhausted dealing with those three. I’m the one with impulse control. Not to be confused with The Impulse Control that Zed has. Hmm… maybe I’m more tired than I think. Have you ever tried a mustache?”

“I… don’t think I can grow one.”

Mumbo nodded. “Alright. What’s your name?”

“Ranboo.”

“The one Tubbo was worrying about, right?” Mumbo asked, but then didn’t give Ranboo a chance to answer. “And what does Tommy think of you?”

“I’m pretty sure we’re friends. Maybe. I tried what I could to keep him company. Even though I couldn’t be there.”

“Sounds good enough to me. Still unsure about him.” Mumbo gestured to Bad. “And what about him?”

“Uhh, I’m not sure to be honest. And I don’t think I would have it written down.”

Mumbo tilted his head slightly, trying to ignore the fact that just doing that made him feel a little dizzy. “Why would you need to write it down?”

“I don’t really have the best memory of things, so I write everything important to make sure I can’t lose it.”

“Well maybe you can visit and can get checked out in Hermitcraft. See if someone there can help you.”

Ranboo nodded, then was distracted as Michael came over and reached for his hand before pulling him away. Mumbo watched as the two left, Michael excited about seeing Techno, who had just arrived with Xannes. Philza didn’t seem to be back, which was mildly concerning, but at this point, the redstoner was a bit too tired to care and fell asleep.

Grian woke up with a start. He hadn’t quite had a nightmare, more just something in the dream startled him awake. He shifted slightly and realized that he was still holding Jrum in his arms, who was also asleep.

Carefully, the avian pulled away and got out of bed, making sure Jrum didn’t wake up. He looked over at the other beds and was glad to see it seemed Tommy had moved. The other bed was empty however, which worried Grian. He looked around more and found Mumbo asleep in a chair, but also without Grumbot.

There were voices from an adjacent room, and Grian was hoping his other son would be there. He tiptoed to not wake the others up, then peeked into the next room. Everyone was gathered around and talking. Well, Xannes was off to the side reluctantly playing with a Ziglin, but that was the only exception. The avian looked around a second time. He didn’t see Grumbot anywhere, and it looked like Phil was gone but Techno was in his place.

Techno. Grian didn’t care if they were related or not. He had been the one to cause this whole mess by killing his kids. And now one of them was missing again and here he was. For the second time that week, Grian had a sword to the piglin’s neck. He had moved fast enough that everyone jumped back in surprise at his sudden appearance.

“What is it this time?” He said in a bored tone which made Grian even angrier. Instead of saying anything, he just swung the sword, cutting into Techno’s arm. He attempted a second swing, but he was pulled back from behind by Xannes, leaving the avian flailing for escape, wings hitting just about anything they could.

“Calm down or I’ll break one of your arms.” The helsmit threatened as he managed to get Grian pinned on the ground. He then looked up at Techno. “Any clue why he’s acting like this?”

“He kidnapped Phil who said he was a Watcher. I went after Phil and made a few withers to get his attention. People started attacking, I attacked back. They were collateral. Didn’t realize they wouldn’t respawn right.”

“More like you didn’t care.” Grian growled from the ground. “First both the boys, then you were threatening NPG, and now you’re here and Grum isn’t!”

“What do you mean he isn’t here?” Bad asked, cutting into the conversation. “No one’s gone in or out of that room since we all came out here. Well, until you of course.”

“Then you weren’t paying attention.” Grian accused, but Tubbo stopped him.

“No, we’ve all been watching in case someone woke up, especially with what Techno found.”

“Found a way to kill my kids again?” Xannes sighed and twisted Grian’s arm a bit. The avian yelped at the sudden pain, and for a moment the helsmit was glad it seemed to have shut him up, before Grian managed to swipe his leg to make Xannes fall to the ground and pin him instead.

“Can you at least first hear what we found out? We think it’s related to Tommy’s condition.” Tubbo tried to offer, knowing that Grian seemed to like Tommy almost as much as the bots.

Grian hesitated, but then nodded. “Okay fine, but make it quick. I already saw you got him to move.”

“Wait, what do you mean he moved?” Tubbo asked, quickly moving to the extension room.

“Well he’s on his side now.” Grian explained, following behind, flaring his wings out when he felt crowded from behind as the others rushed to follow as well.

“Well we didn’t do that.” Tubbo said, going over to Tommy. “Oh, and looks like it might not have been Tommy either.” He looked back over to the avian. “Well it looks like you don’t have to panic about Grum anymore. He’s right here.”

Grian closed his wings back up so he could get over to Tubbo and Tommy. Once he got closer, he was able to see Grumbot curled up in the teen’s arms. The moment he saw the robot, Grian sighed, glad that nothing else bad had happened. He also then glanced back to Jrum to make sure he was still there, glad to see he was.

“See, everything’s alright.” Tubbo said, even though Grian could tell that wasn’t entirely true.

“What did you find out about Tommy then?”

Everyone left the sleeping area again to talk. “I went to check on my place when we got back.” Techno started to explain. “Not many people knew about it, so went to see if anyone was hiding there. It’s far off, so it could have been used as a hideout. Turns out I was right, and someone was there. But not willingly.”

“And that would be?” Grian asked, looking at the others to see if their expressions would tell him anything.

“After Wilbur died, he came back as a ghost, though it didn’t quite act like him. Preferred the name Ghostbur over Wilbur too. Well, he was there, but alive. And he wasn’t Wilbur. He was just an alive version of Ghostbur. Somehow he got revived and was in my house when it happened. Since then, he hasn’t been able to get out, no matter what he tries. He says it’s like an invisible wall.”

“And what’s that got to do with Tommy?”

“Obviously Ghostbur didn’t show up at his body, or else he wouldn’t be in my house. Tommy lost his last life before being revived, so there’s a good chance he’s in the same situation and we just have his body.”

“Then where is Tommy?”

“I can’t hit the button! It’s gonna crush me!” Tommy yelled out, unable to stop the flying machine he was currently in.

“Mine out the back!” Zedaph yelled, making Tommy realize that, yes, he could do that. He pulled out a pickaxe and broke through the pistons, slime blocks and observers, escaping just before the machine would have crushed him between itself and whatever was keeping him stuck. 

“Okay, your drill didn’t work.”

“Hmm, really thought that one would do it.” Zed replied, looking down at a napkin he had written a list on and crossed out one of the items. “Well! Next up we’re going to need some cows.”

“I do not want death by cow.”

“But they’re the perfect size for it.” Zedaph pouted, but crossed another thing off the list.

“Just give me the next idea!”

“Okay, so we’re just going to need you to use some minor telekinetic powers-”

There was an interruption as Scar arrived in tow with Cub. “Okay, I picked up all the magic crystals I think might be able to help. If that doesn’t work, Cub and I are fully prepared to try some vex magical shenanigans.”

“I’m not a fan of the word shenanigans, but whatever, let’s fucking try it!”

From there, the various hermits tried a number of ideas to get Tommy out, but none of them seemed to work. At the very least they learned that he could go into the minecart tunnel and all the way to Mumbo’s hobbit hole without trouble as well as the fact that Tommy seemed to be the only one affected, but it still wasn’t ideal. 

A few hermits stayed around to keep Tommy company, which he was very glad for. A few small minigames were built to help pass the time. Since the situation with the bots meant Tommy had missed out on HHH, Ren started using some unused questions from the day as well as getting Tommy’s answers for what he had asked. From there it just dissolved into a bit of storytelling.

For the most part, Tommy just listened to the stories, but when he was offered to tell one of his own, he passed up on the offer, asking for some time to think of a good one. While the others started talking, he tried thinking of something to share when he realized something. “Guys… I… I don’t have a fucking clue when I got here.”

They asked for clarification and Tommy explained that thinking back, he couldn’t remember anything from his exile or the first few weeks he was in Hermitcraft. Except for a few short bits of memory, he had nothing. He tried to calm the other hermits down by mentioning Ghostbur had the same thing happen, but that only seemed to make them more worried.

Just about everyone stayed over that night no matter how much Tommy wanted them to not stay just for pity, but he ended up enjoying the impromptu sleepover. Though it was still in the back of his mind, just having the hermits there for him made things feel a bit more normal.

Grumbot stared at [:)]. He should be awake but he wasn’t. The revival didn’t seem to have worked and it wasn’t sure why. So it asked for more help, but then was upset when none was given. Well, the staying near [:)] suggestion was repeated, but it could very clearly see that just being in proximity to [:)] was not doing anything.

It glanced up briefly as [:)] came near. It couldn’t quite see them, but the listed coordinates for them matched their current position. [:)] came near afterwards, Grumbot able to see the edges of his red feathers for a moment. They talked about it and [:)] for a moment before leaving again, and then it could hear them discussing Ghostbur. It sounded like that revival mostly worked, though there seemed to be an issue with it. Grumbot frowned at that, wishing it had known about this sooner. It would need to find Ghostbur to fix the situation and then proceed to fix [:)].

Grumbot tried to move, but was stopped. It needed to stay near [:)]. It argued that this was not helping [:)]. The answer was that it wasn’t supposed to be helping [:)], it was supposed to be helping Grum. But Grumbot didn’t care. Grum was not in charge. He was just supposed to work his programs. It, on the other hand, was meant to run this world and keep everything in order. And that included fixing the revivals.

[writing-the-end]

LoL Chapter 43- Remember

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

Finding Mumbo isn’t the only challenge facing the hermits. They need to remind him who his family really is. 

_______________________________________

“....i….a….n….? Gri…..Grian!” Iskall’s voice, tainted with fear, breaks through the empty unconsciousness that gripped Grian. He winces, pain shooting through every nerve and muscle of his being, his heart aching and fingers numb. xB is hovering over him, bending water to ease the pain and electricity that still runs through his body. Jevin’s slime runs across the burns that lightning has left behind. In the air, a faint scent of burnt chicken permeates around Grian. 

He sits upright, terror ricocheting and intertwining with the pain in his body. Despite the horrible pain of electricity conducting through him, and the Forest of Memories using his proclivity for pain to drag him deeper into despair, his first worry is Mumbo lost in the woods.

Mumbo’s a city boy. He doesn’t know anything about the wild. Even if he’s just lost, he could fall down a ravine, or get caught in carnivorous vines, or hunted by a beast. But this isn’t any forest- this is the Forest of Memories, haunting him with his past, his fears. And haunting him with what just happened. 

But it’s not just that Mumbo is from the city. He also knows his best friend's brain will turn his memories, his thoughts, his actions against him. It couldn’t have been any other hermit, one that wasn’t so insecure about their position among the guild, their ability to be a mage. It had to be Mumbo, the newest, the most fearful. It attacked him knowing he saw himself as the weakest link. And it made him believe it, see it. 

“We have to go after that spoon.” Grian states, standing. He wobbles like a newborn shleep, falling to his knees. 

“Hold up, Grian. You literally just had 300 million volts use your body as a lightning rod, I know you’re the guild healer and all but you can’t go running after him.” Cleo holds him down, keeping him from trying to run off into the woods. “Grian stop! You can’t run off on your own, or the Hangman’s Playground will turn your thoughts against you. We’ll go together.” 

“How will we even know where he’s gone?” Keralis questions, reaching out to pet a shleep that had wandered into the clearing. The second the bug mage’s fingers sink into the galactic wool, red bolts of static zap him with a yelp. 

“I think he went that way.” BDubs points, seeing other shleep going to the east, static bolts of red energy dancing between swirls of starry fur. Zed is positively delighted to have the company of the shleep in the terrifying forest, and he makes sure to keep the ruminants spirits high to help with the sanity of the rest of the group. 

Iskall helps Grian to his feet, letting the angelic being rest lean on his shoulder, his friend stumbling along with the group. Joe casts a spell which enchants a compass that Wels had, pointing the direction of Mumbo. Though the poem rhyming ass with compass was a bit much. 

The longer they spend within the Forest of Memories, the longer it’s effects linger and worm their way through their defenses. Stress’s amulet shatters, breaking in a burst of darkness. Immediately, the memories of her life before the hermits flood back in. She ignores the laughter, the empty parties and emptier people, running forward and grabbing another amulet to protect herself. They’re all fighting off their own demons, but the knowledge that Mumbo may be fighting his alone keeps them moving forward. 

Ren tips his head up, sniffing the air and wagging his tail. “I smell a change in the air, I think we’re close.” 

“You can’t possibly smell Mumbo, he’s not that stinky.” Iskall jeers, pushing a copse of brambles out of the way. 

“It’s not Mumbo I smell- it’s his magic. It smells like ozone.” Ren disappears through the green foliage, though his tail gets stuck on the way out. He yanks it free a few times. 

“Why would magic smell like oz-” Iskall’s cut off when he gets his answer. A bolt of lightning burns the grass at his feet, red lightning branching and crackling through the sky. 

Grian let’s go of Iskall, stumbling forward. “Mumbo…” 

Hovering in the air, surrounded by bolts of lightning striking at random intervals and places, the multi-mage is lost within his own magic. A power surge, fully realized, and well beyond Mumbo’s control. He was alone, with no one to calm his fears, to help him reign in his magic. Mumbo’s eyes are open, though glowing and crackling with energy. His arms hang limp, his feet at least a meter off the ground. 

Mumbo’s in a power surge. TFC tries to step closer, but with every forward step any hermit takes, they’re forced to retreat two lest they be struck down like Grian was. He’s not even conscious enough to realize what he’s doing. And the surge is getting stronger. Lightning begins to burn the trees around them, setting the wood on fire. The shleep that were following Zed scatter, their wool turning a misty black. 

“He’s going to destroy everything!” Beef warns, jumping back and stomping out a fire started by the lightning. 

“He’s going to destroy himself!” Xisuma adds. “But how in the world are we going to get close enough to talk him down?” 

Iskall and Grian look at one another. They’re Mumbo’s best friends, if there’s anyone that could bring him back to reality, it’s Iskall and Grian. The architechs. Iskall casts his magic, his own radioactive iskallium negates the energy of Mumbo’s magic, and Grian wraps his arms around Iskall and flutters into the air, within shouting distance of Mumbo. He struggles with his wounds, but refuses to drop Iskall. At least, not this time. “Mumbo? Mumbo!” 

Grian’s shouts fall on deaf ears, the hollow form of Mumbo possessed only by magic. Iskall and Grian look at one another, then back at Mumbo. “Mumbo, look! Grian’s fine, it’s not the worst wound he’s ever gotten, you know that!” 

“Mumbo, I know you think we don’t want you.” Grian ducks, his hair standing on end as a bolt of lightning nearly hits him again. “But that’s not true! You’re a part of this family, you’re a hermit! We aren’t like other guilds, we aren’t like your parents were. I asked you to join us because you were fun, and unique, and different. That’s what this guild is for.” 

“You’re so strong Mumbo, because no matter how many times things don’t seem to work out, or your magic is just out of reach, you still keep trying! We all admire how no matter what happens, you still get right back up and try again. I mean, Grian and I have mega thrashed you before, and you just stand up and go for it again!” Iskall notices Mumbo’s eyes blink, and the loud roar of cracking lightning and thunderous roars begin to deafen. 

“Yeah, Mumbo we know you’re strong! You’ve beaten us before, and we’re two S-class mages! But we also understand your struggle. We see how hard you work.” Grian floats toward the ground, following as Mumbo’s feet touch down on the grass. Iskall kneels beside Mumbo, Grian wrapping his wings to coo and comfort all three. “Mumbo, we want you around. You are a hermit and you are a part of this family.” 

“You aren’t our weakest link, man. You’re our best friend.” Iskall breathes. He watches Mumbo blink once, then twice, and on the third time they can see his grey eyes once again. The last of the lightning fades away, Mumbo collapsing into his friends’ arms. 

“I’m so sorry, I hurt you.” Mumbo whimpers, turning his head. Embarrassed to look at Grian. He hurt his best friend. He could’ve killed all the others. 

“You know me, Mumbo.” Grian chuckles. “Nothing can keep me down for long.”

The other hermits join the architechs on the ground, reminding Mumbo how much he means to them. How he’s made their lives better, brighter, more fun. 

And the Forest of Memories can’t hurt them. 

The dark shadows lurking in the foliage instead show the dappled light of the sun through the trees. Rather than focusing on the negative, they see the light. Sunshine burns away the voices of those who wish to tear each hermit down. Doubtful family members, cruel guildmasters, even the voice of Magistrate Dolios himself is eradicated by the group’s sentimentality of each other. 

Instead, the Forest begins to play the best moments of their times together. Mumbo and Grian meeting, Team ZIT meeting TFC on the side of a road, the day Cleo beached her ship on an island that should never exist. Days spent basking in the sun, too hot to train, playing on the beach and in the waters of the Ashioll sea. Cheering on and betting during duels, but always there for both the winner and the loser. Training feeling more like play with the hermits, dinners are bright and happy even in the dark, the island flourishing with life during festivals as the hermits grow excited. Even when it rains, they can be the happiest days on the island. Huddling close to warm fires with mugs of cider, blankets wrapping around friends. Playing in the puddles, dancing in the rain, enjoying every second of their lives. 

They’re a family, though not by blood, but by choice. A family that nothing, not even the Hangman’s Playground, can tear apart.

[locatebiome]

Supposed To Be

a oneshot I wrote for Beyond the Border, which is an incredible fic by @turboniumaly. If you haven’t read it yet, go read it! The concept is amazing, it’s both heartwarming and soul-crushing, and I highly recommend it!!!

Summary (and spoilers, go read BtB first) under the cut!

This takes place just after Chapter Eight and it’s just my take on the idea of Zed discovering Impulse’s death. Genre is mostly angst. Enjoy!

The cool air of Impulse’s cliffside home was a welcome change from the oppressively hot atmosphere of the Nether.

Zedaph blinked the last violet portal particles from his eyes and stretched his arms high over his head. He’d been gathering quartz in the Nether almost all day. The routine of explore-a-bit, mine-a-bunch, explore-a-bit, mine-a-bunch, and so on, was just repetitive enough to be soothing and with just enough variety to keep his mind from wandering to the dark topics that were so common of late.

He yawned and gave the familiar house a quick once-over. Since the first border-related death, he’d been crashing at Impulse’s place. Like many of the hermits suddenly taking up residence in their friends’ homes, the idea of being alone in one’s house was quite alarming nowadays.

Kind of like how he appeared to be alone right now.

“Impulse?” Zed called hesitantly. He wandered through the quiet house, but there was no sign of his friend. The house was oddly, hauntingly empty.

That was strange. Impulse was always home by now, tinkering with his farms and drawing up blueprints of new contraptions. He always managed to keep up a lively conversation with Zed, despite the everlasting exhaustion that had accompanied him since Xisuma’s death.

Zedaph felt the backs of his long, elfin ears prickle with dread. His ears were never wrong, no matter how much he wished they were.

His first instinct was to check the player list on his phone -- but something stopped him. It took him a moment to realize it was fear. He was afraid of what the list, in all its stark and impermeable truth, would tell him.

He scoffed at himself. Of course Impulse would be online. The stress and panic of the past few weeks was making him paranoid, that was all.

Still, when he found himself sliding the phone back into his pocket, he couldn’t bring himself to pull it back out.

Well, that was fine. He’d just have to find him manually. Maybe he was working on some expansions for iTrade and lost track of time. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d forgotten to come home or sleep because he was so deeply invested in a project.

Satisfied with his own theory, Zedaph checked his elytra and patted the pocket where he kept rockets for flying. Without another moment’s dallying, he shot out the front door and into the sky.

It only took him a few minutes to fly the distance to iTrade. He glided to a stop on the path leading into the store.

To his surprise and subsequent confusion, there was someone outside the building already.

Doc circled it slowly, almost thoughtfully, brushing one hand along its smooth wooden walls and gleaming quartz pillars. In his other hand, he clutched his trademark trident. He was rolling the handle over and over in his palm, which almost always meant he was anxious, with either excitement or distress.

Zed frowned. That was . . . odd. Now suspicion grew over his previous confusion. What was Doc doing here, circling the building so weirdly?

He decided confrontation was his best course of action and approached iTrade at a brisk trot.

“Hey, Doc! What--”

He broke off abruptly as Doc whirled with a snarl, trident raised to attack.

Zedaph took an instinctive step back, trying to quell the thrill of fear that pierced his chest. They’d all been pretty jumpy since Xisuma’s death.

But upon recognizing him, Doc took a step back, lowering the trident.

And then, to Zed’s disbelief and shock, he shot him one brief, uncharacteristically scared glance and leapt into the sky. The loud rapport of rockets firing filled the night air for a moment, and then there was silence.

Once again, Zedaph was alone.

Thoughts whirling crazily, he entered the store. As he’d expected, but dreaded, Impulse was nowhere to be found. He walked back out numbly, in a daze.

He’d never seen Doc of all people so . . . terrified. Stressed, yes. Shocked, yes. Even occasionally nervous. But truly, gut-wrenchingly afraid?

Yes, something was very, very wrong.

He wasn’t anywhere in the shopping district.

Zed was beginning to feel quite concerned.

Eventually, his curiosity began to overwhelm his fear. Something was deeply, horribly wrong, that he knew. From Impulse’s initial absence, to Doc’s strange behavior, to the cold tingle in his ears. The entire world felt like a familiar song played just-slightly off-key. And while he was more than a little scared of what that something might be, he had to know.

After several internal pep-talks, and quite a few false starts, he managed to pull his phone out.

Turn the screen on.

Tap the player list.

The player list was open.

Look at the player list.

Look at the player list.

Look at the player list.

Xisuma and Cub -- still nowhere to be found on the list. Scar was still online, which relieved him somewhat. Zed’d been worried about him since he’d locked himself in CherryCare.

Tango -- still online. Still alive. He allowed himself a small sigh of relief.

Zedaph scrolled back up to the top and went down the list carefully, looking for Impulse. iJevin, Iskall85--

Wait, no.

No.

No, where was he?

Ignoring his building panic, he slowly scrolled through the entire list, muttering each name aloud.

But Impulse, his name normally sandwiched between iJevin and Iskall85, was nowhere to be found.

No, no, no.

His blood ran cold. There was a black icicle in his heart.

That couldn’t be right. They had promised to stick together! To be there for each other!

With Tango so busy deciphering Xisuma’s death - he didn’t have anyone else - Impulse was all he had left. He couldn’t be dead, he couldn’t be dead, he couldn’t be dead.

Zedaph realized he was hyperventilating and gasped for air. It came back out as a choked sob. Each breath felt like it was edged with thorns.

It wasn’t fair - Impulse had promised - “I’m not going anywhere near the border, Zed. We’re gonna get through this. The three of us. I promise.” - it was supposed to be the three of them, always.

He swiped the tears from his cheeks and stood upright -- when had he fallen down? -- on shaky legs.

He had to get outside, had to get the others, had to find Impulse -- because of course he wasn’t dead, he couldn’t be!

Zed stumbled outside, struggling to breathe around the stuttering sobs that choked his throat and wracked his entire frame.

There were two people approaching.

One was tall, blonde, dressed in red, familiar -- it was Tango, thank god it was Tango. He wasn’t alone, he still had Tango - the demon would help him of course, and they’d find Impulse and the three of them would be together again.

Oddly enough, Tango was grasping a sword loosely in one hand. The blade was lit only by the faraway lights of the surrounding buildings and much farther-away light of the moon and stars, and Zed couldn’t make out the details. Yet something about it only amplified that off-key feeling.

There was still something so horribly wrong.

Tango and -- Iskall, he realized belatedly, it was Iskall -- both wore the same tired, broken expression.

They both carried the same terrible, terrible knowledge in their downcast eyes.

More than knowledge, it was news -- awful, heavy news that would feel like a dozen anvils falling on Zedaph’s shoulders -- somehow he knew this with absolute certainty, for his ears were never wrong--

For a long, excruciating moment, they just stared at each other. The sobs had slowed, but tears still silently rolled down Zed’s cheeks, and Tango’s scarlet eyes were beginning to glisten, and finally Iskall broke the silence with a bruised, haunted voice.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Zedaph stared at him, trying and failing to say something, anything, to deny the sentence Iskall was about to say next.

“He’s dead,” he choked out, and now he was beginning to cry as well. “Impulse is dead.”

And hearing it, hearing that he - that Impulse - was really, truly, absolutely dead, felt like being crushed by weighty gravel and being submerged in searing lava and being impaled right in the heart by a malevolent blade.

Zedaph let out one long, agonized wail, and sank to the floor. Suddenly, Tango was there, wrapping his arms around him and offering him the comfort of physical contact. It was the only comfort they had left.

And as Zed sat there, crying violently into his best friend’s chest and feeling said friend shudder with his own sobs, he could only think one thing. The thought spiraled around and around in his head, repeating until it was an unstoppable mantra and echoed endlessly in his head.

Us three, it was supposed to be three - it was supposed to be three - it was supposed to be three - it was supposed to be three -

[finderskeepersff]

58. Part 3

I just want to see Cassius, that is the honest truth. I want to see my man, I don’t care if he doesn’t want to see me but I want to see him “you think he has ran off?” I asked, I don’t know what Henry was saying but I interrupted him “well, I hope he hasn’t. Cassius is here because he wants to be, I can’t force him to say” so he just doesn’t want to see me “it’s been so long, so long since I have seen him or even spoken to him, yes I am being emotional” waving them off, I just want to see his face at least, just doesn’t seem real that I can’t even touch him. I want him so bad “relax, just give him time” glaring over at Kyle “I don’t have time, and you know this” Kyle nodded his head “I get it” I swallowed hard placing my hand over my face, I may be a little dramatic but my emotions is very much everywhere. I just need him, I do need him but he seems so far from me, I would do anything for him “ignore me, I need to just give him time. Time I don’t have, I mean I am not dying but I just need to speak to him” Henry nodded his head “he needs to do it himself” he is so laid back this guy, I would drag Cassius ass out and be like just get on with it “you do hold a big key Sofia, to his mental state. His happiness is you, I have never seen the boy get so happy. Giggly with it too. I think it’s something he can overcome, he calls you a purpose to be here. We all have those points in life where it changed you for the better, when he met you he felt that. If he doesn’t want to see you, do not be offended. It’s hard for him, to see the person that you love so much is seeing him like this. He said one of the points is having to see you in hospital and he looked bad, he really just wants to see you when he is perfect. Doesn’t happen in life” that is a lot to take in, to be someone’s happiness is a lot.

We have been here, I would say half hour now “Cartier is playing up Amira said” Kyle slowly walked back into the room “he is being clingy to me, I understand” Kyle sat next to me “I think I do need to go, we can try again another day. Please make sure he eats what I gave him, I would send it him every day but I am not in Texas. I prefer to be in Atlanta but if he wanted I would stay here” I can’t sit here when Cartier is playing up, he is clingy to me recently anyways, even though Amira is at the house every damn day and still he acts like this, the diva “we can try again, I did push for it. Maybe it is my fault” I sniggered “so it was you then” getting up from the couch, hearing the door close “better late than never Cassius” looking over at Cassius with my bag in hand, Cassius looked at me but shyed away “my nigga!” Kyle spat, he always loses the weight. He looks so skinny again, just staring at him. Kyle hugged Cassius without even a care in the world, he seems so ill or maybe that is just me but I left him healthy and he just seems not him.

He barely hugged Kyle, he seems overwhelmed “you came, that is the point” I haven’t moved from my spot, I was ready to leave and he is here. He hasn’t moved either, I have been ranting on about seeing him and now I am mute as shit “are you coming in, sit down” Henry said, he seems like he wants to run away “I’ll sit” he said in a whisper, he walked over to us slowly and I dropped my bag. I want to touch him “Cassius” placing my hand over my mouth, rushing towards him. I don’t care if he doesn’t want to hug me or even interact with me but I do, hugging Cassius close “I have missed you so much” closing my eyes, I don’t want to cry too much because he is here, he is ok and he is better. Feeling his hand on my back, he slowly rubbed my back. Moving back from the hug, looking up at him “look at you” lifting my hand up, touching his face “what have you done to your hair?” I chuckled feeling ever so choked “you gone bald, no beard” smiling at him, he smiled back at me “new me” he said “I love it, I do” placing my hands at the side of his face “you’re ok, that is all that matters ain’t it” he is alive and that matters the most.

Sitting across from Cassius, my heart is aching for him. He is the sweetest man I know, so full of heart and this is what people have done to him, I mean his own parents. He is ok, no matter how he looks he is still alive and he is with me. I was so close to losing him, I don’t care what had to happen to get him here because look at him “are you happy you came out to see them?” Henry asked, he seems very shy. Timid with things, reminds me of that time in the club, I mean it was me and he was so shy like when I took him to the disabled toilets he was more concerned about the wet sign, he is such a pure soul, and there was me being a bitch just looking out to have sex. I can’t stop smiling at him, he is talking but I am not hearing it because I am honestly just happy to see him. This is Cassius, this is the Cassius I know and met on several occasions which gets clouded by shit. I am so happy, I can’t contain myself “Sofia, how do you feel seeing him?” looking over at Henry “what did he say?” I had to ask “Cassius said he is happy to see us, Sofia wake up” Kyle nudged me “oh yeah, I am happy to see him. To hear his voice again, to see his face again” smiling at him, Cassius keeps looking away from me.

Cassius walked back into the room, he left to get something “what did you bring back, some gifts?” Cassius chuckled “I was doing something before I came out” he sat next to Henry “I wrote something, you said I should write things I can’t say. I wrote something, you read it” Cassius held it out to Henry “you’re not up for saying it?” Cassius shook his head “I wrote, that is the point” he is getting more comfortable, Henry took it from him “I added some things on there” he is so cute, I love him “writing about your feelings, I like it. So is that why you took so long?” Henry opened it slowly “kind of” I am excited to hear this, well he wrote. He can write one thing and I will be emotional about that right now “to whoever cares, maybe Sofia and Kyle, if” Henry paused “you crossed here?” Henry pointed out “I put if Sofia wants to marry me, but I seen the ring” Henry let out an oh, looking down at the engagement ring “he put if she wants to marry me still” Henry chuckled “so let’s start again, to whoever cares, maybe Sofia and Kyle. I am a mess, I let a lot of people down and especially the people that love me the most, lied to their faces about doing such a thing. I fell into a deep black hole, something I found hard to leave once I entered it. One line, turned into two and then three. Which made me want more, I felt on top of the world. Doing things because I can, I was out to destroy my life and the honest truth is. I wanted to die, I openly didn’t want to be here. Through this long process of thinking, remembering my past and seeing Kyle through it all. I am sorry to you Kyle, you fought with me so much and still you are here. Sofia, you was right to leave me first time around. You was also right in wanting to keep our son away from me. In that moment I could have done anything to you both, if I didn’t have the money or the open gate to this drug I would have sold you both, that is the truth and that scares me. I am a product of Carnell and Monique, I am so lost. This may be everywhere and sound like I am jumping between things but I am still thinking, I am still piecing together on why I deserve to be alive when I have dodged death on several occasions” Henry closed the paper, wiping the tears that fell.

“I am proud of you, you took this from group didn’t you? So you do listen” I am a mess now, I can’t stop crying “nigga, I would do it for you again. It’s me and you till the end Cassius” I sniffled looking over at Kyle “Cassius, I always thought how you dealt with things. You went through shit as a kid Cassius and the only thing I could do was be there for you, I had to fight you a lot because I wanted to protect you but I will ride for you” Kyle is so sweet to him “shame Myles did me over, I don’t have many friends and he was one of my brothers and he did that. I lost Lamar which was set up to get to me and then Jordan, this has destroyed so many people and it’s all to get to me. Samuel, Blaze, Zed. Wheezy. His daughter got no father. That is why I struggle to understand why I keep cheating death” I swallowed hard watching him, he is so emotional “yo” he put his head down “I wasn’t even there for when Sofia lost the baby in the club, I was too busy. I just” he sniffled “I need time” he is hurting so much, my poor baby “can I have some alone time? I ain’t going to run” Cassius looked at Henry “you can” he got up from the couch.

The room fell awfully quiet “I bet y’all think I should be used to death, I am sorry I mentioned your dad. Things I didn’t want to do but I did, I just wanted to know how the business is going?” Kyle can answer that “well it’s going good, we had some issues in Miami. All is well, it’s quiet. Ethan asked about you but I said you are busy but it’s good, Sofia is our new money counter. She has been helping, ain’t you boss!” Kyle laughed nudging me “she is boss” Cassius agreed “Cassius, I don’t ever blame you for these things. You are not a monster, I don’t think that of you” I said, I have been quiet “to become boss, you have to go through shit. You can’t have a heart being a boss, you can’t. You can’t be loved, he laughed in my face and told me to go for it. He moulded me to be a monster, the love I had for my family was my goal and I never won it. I have seen so much Sofia, I can never unsee it and I don’t want you to hear it. I never won that goal Sofia” Cassius laughed “we here for you, you rest up” Kyle said “you want us to come back tomorrow?” Kyle asked “erm, would be nice. If you want to go back then you can” Kyle shook his head “we will stay over” nodding my head in agreement “Cassius, I know it all but maybe you need to open up your heart to the woman you love” Kyle added before he got up.

Cassius walked behind us, he didn’t walk ahead, he is still healing “all good then?” Henry asked “erm all good, I would say. You want to see Cartier now?” I turned to Cassius “I don’t deserve to see someone so pure” rolling my eyes shaking my head “stop it” digging in my bag for my phone “you deserve to see our son, he loves you and we both miss you” unlocking my phone “you got a picture of me and Cartier on your lock screen?” Cassius pointed out “who else would I have?” looking up at him “I don’t know” Cassius laughed, he is stupid at times “well he sits up on his own, well when I say he does he leans like a leaning tower. It makes me laugh, he does sit straight for like a minute but he is doing it” tapping on the latest picture of him “look at him now” Cassius looked at my phone, he stared intently. Taking my phone from me “he got curls, like he got good hair. He still light skinned as hell, he a lot of you in him. The boy is growing. He looks naughty” Cassius smiled at the picture “he is, a little. I mean he is just growing so fast but we miss you, I miss you because you can do the morning routine” I do miss him doing that, taking the phone from him “also I left food for you, I got you dessert too. I made some chicken wings, curried goat. Ok? You can eat well” touching the side of his face “really?” he said a little shocked “yes, why wouldn’t I? I will see you tomorrow” I am so happy, I am happy.

Walking into the hotel room “he has been whiny, he wanted his mommy” Amira said, walking into the living area. I gasped seeing Cartier on the floor sat up, with pillows all around him “my baby boy, mommy is back” Cartier shakily lifted his head, his eyes widened “awww, I am sorry. I know, I left you” picking him up from the floor “mommy is back” rubbing the back of his head, kissing the top of his head “soooo, tell me. How did it go?” turning to Amira “good, I saw him. I mean I thought he wouldn’t come to see us but he did, he was very shy. He has gone skinny again but I think it’s the food there but he is ok, it was very emotional. Kyle cut it short though” Amira looked at Kyle “why did you do that?” she questioned “I wanted him to rest, we are seeing him tomorrow. I was thinking, Sofia you go alone. You will be fine, I think you will get more out of it. He has a lot to say, I think it would be better you go. I will spend time with Cartier” he wants me to go alone, this is weird “if you think” I didn’t think he would want me to go alone.

I came here alone, Cartier is in a better mood which I am happy about so he went to Kyle “someone has been waiting” Henry said opening the door for me, Cassius is stood behind Henry “you was waiting?” I said smiling at him, I find it so cute he was “I thought I would greet you” opening my arms “come here” hugging Cassius “Kyle hasn’t come, it is just me today” touching the back of his head, I wish he didn’t go bald headed but he did. Pressing a kiss to the side of his face “I ate your food, you made me patties? I was so shook and then strawberry cheescake, you didn’t need to do that?” moving back from the hug, he seems so happy about the food “it was nothing, it gets a bit lonely cooking for myself so I enjoyed cooking for you, you have plenty left yeah? I was scared the cooler bag wasn’t going to work for the cheesecake but look at that” Cassius nodded his head laughing “you can both pretty much do what you like, we can catch up after” Henry said “that is fine” crossing my arms across my chest “you lead the way Cassius” I grinned at him “there isn’t much to see but I can show you a few things” smiling at him, he is so cute.

He seems so happy, I love it “so this like the place where we can just watch movies and shit, this nigga is a weirdo. I don’t fuck with him” this guy just stared at Cassius, he seems so angry “no group today Cassius?” this middle aged white lady asked “not today, I have a guest” he moved to the side “this is the lady, Sofia right?” she knows me, how many people has he told about me “I am June, nice to meet you” she held her hand out “same, don’t tell me Cassius has been telling everyone” shaking her hand “I would be lying to say if he didn’t, he is very much proud of you. It’s lovely to meet you in person. Cassius stop harassing others thank you” she seems so kind “I’m not, just saying hi” she walked off “let’s just go to my room, it’s boring but it’s private” I shrugged “I don’t mind, you lead the way” I can see how much he is so happy, I love it.

Seeing his bed made “you make your own bed? Don’t lie to me” seems to be set out nicely “myself, remember I have been locked up and I did do my own bed then. You can sit, I don’t mind. Relax” I can’t stop smiling, looking around the room “it is so bare, you like it like this?” placing my bag on the bed “I guess, did you get my phones?” I didn’t think he would ask “well” turning to him “I did get them, I was shocked to see them. What made you do that?” Cassius gestured for me to sit down, he really wants me to sit “I woke up here, my life was over. My phone kept ringing and Henry said, you want to remove this from the situation and I said yes, I felt better” that is concerning he don’t remember “do you have any idea what happened, not even” I stopped myself “not even the moment you overdosed?” Cassius shook his head “all I know is that life was good, to feel that. I didn’t have no feelings, shit was good. I miss it sometimes because reality can be so bleak, it hurt me a lot to know I lost Jordan and then Myles, Wheezy. I cared for these people, then I was getting blamed on the side. It just got on top of me, I didn’t want to be here” Cassius sat down next to me “but you do now right?” I hope he does “if you still going to be around then there is a purpose but I am doing it for me” that is so good to hear “Cassius I am here, I am waiting for you. I honestly, I mean. I didn’t know how bad you was, not to the point where you didn’t want to be here. I knew your family was bad but this was something I didn’t know, but I am here” I wish he puts weight on, quick too.

If Cassius says he doesn’t remember the overdose, just that he woke up here then he isn’t going to remember that night “what are you thinking?” Cassius asked “erm” snapping out of it “things, so you don’t remember the things you were doing?” I just need confirmation on this “no, not in that moment” so he doesn’t remember “so you remember when you was going out of your way to go to Brooklyn?” he shook his head “when I am in that moment Sofia, I am not me. I can’t remember, I overdosed and I don’t remember it. Only the people around me do” he doesn’t remember “ok” that is interesting to know “I don’t really know what it feels, as you know. Is it a good place to be in when you are in that moment?” I sound so stupid “it is, it’s amazing. You are on top of the world, no worries at all. You can imagine my disappointment when I woke up to see this place, I could have left but I just need help” I am glad he did “I am so proud of you Cassius, really am. I was scared you were going to leave but you didn’t. When I left you here, you was very erratic. I didn’t think you would have stayed, even in that moment you listened to me but I am proud of you Cassius. You have done us so proud because I know Kyle, Amira are proud of you. So I want to tell you something, I did something while you was here” I really just want to see his reaction “what did you do? Well you’re engaged to me still so it can’t be that bad?” I laughed “Kyle keeps calling me boss because, well I erm ordered Celine to get beat. I used your phone, I called Ethan to do it” watching Cassius reaction “she is alive” I added “you did that? Sweet Sofia did that?” he looks taken a back by it “I am not sweet I guess” I shrugged “I have always wanted this issue of Celine to be dead but I really want to know, do you have feelings for her? Ok, it is not the right time to really say this but there never will be really. I was just so angry, she knew. She knew that and I didn’t, and she fed your habit” Cassius licked his lips thinking, I hope he isn’t thinking of saying he does love her “we have history, the reason why I know I love you is because I get this weird feeling inside me, I smile when I talk to you. I get shy. Celine was comfort, she knows everything. She has seen me at my worst so I kept her around. You know what I learnt, I need to cancel toxic people out and she is one of them. So no, I don’t have feelings for her, more of it being comfort in my past” that is a weight lifted from me, to hear that “you don’t mind me asking that right?” he shook his head “Henry says I need to speak to you more, he said I haven’t let you see me” that is interesting to hear that “then we got a lot to catch up on, don’t we?” Cassius smile grew.

[satansagittarius]

🥠 2020 🥡

Changes:

🥟 I got a 2018 Nissan Sentra that I pay for myself and I can finally go everywhere

🥟 I gambled, I lost, I found myself again

🥟 My confidence is at an all-time high

🥟 I started going on dates for the fun of it when I used to take things too seriously, and it’s been a trip

🥟 I found my inner value of people coming and going, and I have absolutely loved everyone I’ve met in these last months

🥟 I lost a person who I thought would be in my life forever, but it was such a beautiful lesson about what I deserve or wished for, versus what I was actually getting. And even though it hurt to let them go, it’s better for me in the long run to have someone who truly puts effort into my being.

🥬 I realized I was trying to convince myself I am over them and don’t love them, and it was all fake.

🥬 Instead I realized I do love them more than anyone, anything, and it’s okay to love someone and let them go.

🥬 I can always hold them in my heart, but I have to love myself first and know what treatment I deserve. I wish it could’ve been them still every day.

🥬 This sat with me so much better than just ignoring my feelings. I realized it still could be them one day, but I don’t hope for it anymore because way too much would have to change. I instead just leave my heart to heal and be open to any possibility, and my mind to be prepared to evaluate whatever comes next.

🥬 Though I wanted this person to be my person, it seems as though they were a lesson. They taught me so much. They mirrored things I didn’t like about myself, taught me love existed, and also showed me how far I would go for someone I truly love. For example:

⚡️ We were long distance and it didn’t even phase me. I was so convinced we would figure it out, I didn’t mind not having someone physically if I got to fall asleep on the phone with him. Everyone, including him, would tell me to find someone close that could hold me but truth of the matter is is I fall in love with someone for who they are, not their convienence. As long as I fall in love with someone I just need their open, honest, communication and affection.

⚡️ I was willing to hash out any issues, and problems. I always wanted to fix things. In turn, loving someone so much hurts as well. His distance and silence crushed me, and I realized it was just because I wanted all of him and to actually share things / melt with someone else. I’d never felt like that before.

⚡️ Even though I didn’t mind the distance because I love him I realized I loved affection, and would always miss just his touch. I realized when I love someone all the things I miss are person specific, I’m completely devoted.

⚡️ I actually dreamt of a family and marriage and forever, for once! I just know it has to be with the right person.

🥟 I stopped caring what people thought of me, and only do things that make me happy

🥬 This was achieved by being really straight forward with my communication, stopped lying, said “no”, wouldn’t make promises or commitments I can’t keep

🥟 I started calling my mom just to say I love you

🥟 I got into a fist fight with my brother on Christmas which lead us to sit down and him actually listen to what I had to say. He’s started changing his life for the better and I’ve started to lean on him for support.

🥟 My hair is purple and I think that’s how it will stay

🥟 I don’t work at the salon anymore, they fired me for being unreliable when I stood up about not getting paid as much and refusing to cover shifts for the manager anymore. It was such a blessing.

🥟 I have 0 (ZERO!) unread texts, emails, notifications when my screen used to look like hundreds. It was an avoidance thing and sometimes it’s hard but I make myself read, respond, or delete them every morning.

Uncharted Waters

🍡 I failed every single class last semester, and had to own up to my parents. In turn, they loved me and told me I could slow down.

🍡 I don’t like just sitting at home anymore, I’d rather go out and explore and be with people

🍡 I deleted reddit off my phone as I was using it too much to try to explain situations, look at toxic things, etc etc.

🍡 I feel all my feelings now and it feels odd to check myself

🍡 I started owning up and apologizing for the way I’ve hurt people

🍡 I made boundaries for myself and sometimes it’s uncomfortable enacting them

🍡 I’m more quiet now, I don’t talk as much, and I think it’s because I found inner peace that doesn’t need to be fluffed with bullshit or unnecessary explanations on deaf ears

🍡 I found the beauty of humor and authenticity again. Vulnerability and softness, connectedness and honesty. I found the beauty of being as human and honest as can be.

🍋 Even though I’d love to say I’m a completely soft, gentle, being, I’ve also learned to absolutely love my firecracker anger, my excitedness, my loud and obnoxious traits. I’ve learned to appreciate my convictions and needs.

🍡 I truly love myself and am so confident in the way I look, act, and feel. I haven’t ever been like this and it’s crazy

🍋 I found that once I stopped thinking that everyone’s behavior was a direct reflection of my behavior, or my influence, I stopped judging myself and others as harshly. Everyone just needs understanding. And just because you understand, doesn’t mean you accept burning yourself to keep someone warm.

Random Bits

🍳 I took acid on NYE and saw Zeds Dead which made me melt

🍳 My NYE kiss was the first guy I ever really really really dug in college, but he ended up being unemotional so we separated

🥞 We planned to see Galantis together 5 years ago just to see Runaway (U & I) and haven’t able to find each other in 5 years. We were always at the same shows and couldn’t connect, and he found me right when Galantis asked if everyone was ready to Runaway. It was like the matrix!!

🥞 He apologized for everything and said he feels emotions now, and we told each other we’d always have a soft spot. He said he worries about me and since we’re neighbors (two houses down) he started bringing me little food and hanging out with me.

🥞 People can and should change, and now I have a beautiful friendship with him.

🍳 Scout, Vinh, and I are going to Montreal in February for the Rainbow Six Siege invitational and I’m STOKED

🍳 Noah came back into all our lives and I’ve missed him, and he, Scout, Conway and I have the beginning of a master plan to buy a trap house in Southern California.

🍳 I realized my dream job would be to be a NASA pilot and hit g force and go super fast and thrilling all the time.

🌶 This has not been anything I’ve wanted before, and it’s unattainable. But it felt good to realize a dream, a solid dream, for once.

🍳 I revitalized my passion in communication and the mind, and feel confident with my path. I love school again.

🍳 I’ve grown so much with astrology and even if I look like a witchy bitch it really helps point out the good and bad in me, and is a guideline (not predictor) for how to adjust.

🍳 Karma is real, and I’ve learned that even though I’m blessed with being extremely lucky, how much you gamble is how much you’re willing to lose. How high you climb is how far you can fall.

Xoxo, always 🌙✨

[asarahworld-writes]

The End of My (Sophomore) Year Chapter Five

Read it on AO3 | Read it from the beginning

The young couple walked down the streets of Seabrook with no particular destination in mind, happy to simply be together.  There were, of course, people who saw them together, people who saw them not as Zed and Addison, but as a zombie hanging around a young girl.   They ignored them when they could. Addison threatened to have them arrested when they couldn’t.  Zed threatened to eat them when they wouldn’t leave Addison alone.

“That’s not funny,” Addison twisted out of his arms.

Zed stood still, mouth agape.  “It’s not supposed to be funny.  It’s supposed to make them stop bothering you.”

Addison stared at him.  “You mean it doesn’t bother you?  Zed, what they were saying is horrible.”  Zed mumbled something about it being a fairly common occurrence in Zombietown, when humans were brave enough to venture in.  “We’re telling my dad when I go home.  It’s not okay, they can’t go around saying things like that.”

“Addison, come on,”

“No, Zed. It’s not acceptable that you can’t walk around without people making judgments against you.  That we can’t be us without people being scared that you’ll go offline and eat my brain.  Zed, I lo-” Addison broke off.  She looked into Zed’s eyes, reaching for his hand again, specifically the hand with the Z-band.  She smiled sadly.  “I love you, Zed.”

Zed closed his mouth.  “Addy,” he whispered.

“I love you,” Addison repeated, her voice stronger.  She laced her fingers through his, suddenly breathless as Zed took her back into his arms.

“I love you, Addison.”

As Addison looked into her zombie’s eyes, she knew, without a doubt, that the words they had just professed to each other were true.  She could feel his breath, cold on her lips.  The faint smell of cauliflower and mint toothpaste.

Nothing else in the world mattered.  They were just two kids, stopped together in a park, sharing a special moment.  Their lips touched lightly, once, then twice.  The third time, Addison deepened the kiss, catching Zed’s bottom lip between her teeth.  Addison was on her toes, Zed leaning down and craning his neck to reach her. The kiss broke.  Addison’s breath hitched as Zed lifted her from the ground, trying to shorten the distance between them.  With his arms supporting her, she was the one bending over to meet his lips.  

They stayed in their embrace for what felt like hours, though it was only a few minutes, until another passerby made a comment that punctured their bubble of bliss.

“Let it go, Addy,” Zed mumbled, his mouth still pressed against hers as he lowered her back to the ground.  His hands found their face to her face, shielding the outside world from view.  He kissed her again, but this time her response was half-hearted, and she pulled back.

“It’s not right, Zed.  Movies and long walks in the park… someday’s not enough.  I want us to have that now.  If only other people could see you the way I do,” Addison paused.

“Then you’d be fighting the girls off me tooth and nail,” Zed grinned, trying to lighten the mood.  He’d spent his entire life being a zombie first and foremost. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to go back to being a couple of teenagers alone in the park.

“My curfew’s in ten minutes,” Addison gasped.  “I need to go home.”  She looked around for the nearest street sign, then groaned.  “I’m gonna be late…”

Zed’s grin grew wider, splitting his face.  “I have an idea.”  Addison raised her eyebrows, silently asking for more.  “Can I just say, I’m not the fullback just because I’m good at blocking.  The other aspect of my position is running.”  He knelt to the ground, holding his arms out to his sides. Addison laughed when she realized what he was doing, wrapping her arms around his neck.  “Ready?”  He whispered into her ear, feeling her nod in response.

Zed was fast.  He flew down the streets and sidewalks, easily navigating the straightest path across the town.  Addison kept her face tucked into his neck, the cool night wind stinging at her eyes whenever she chanced a look.  With two minutes to spare, the kids hit the cul-de-sac and the night was (yet again) nearly over far too quickly.  Zed lightly crouched to the ground, allowing his girlfriend to easily slip onto the asphalt.

“Good night, Addi.”  Zed smirked, trying to play the part of suave football stud.

“No, Zed,” said Addison firmly.  “I meant what I said – it’s not acceptable.  This is how we can make a real change.  With football, they didn’t care about you.  They cared that you were winning games for them.  But they continue to do this to you after all that and I can’t stand by while they do that to you.”

Zed stood there, mouth slightly open.  “Addison, it’s not as simple as your dad doing… what exactly?”

“My mother, then.  She’s the mayor, they’re already modifying the language structures of the laws to explicitly include zombies in the definition of person.  It’s harassment, it’s…racist?  Ableist?  Whatever it is, it’s wrong and it’s going to be stopped.”

The porch lights flashed.

“You’re not a monster, Zed,” Addison said softly.

Zed wished he could believe her.

The lights flashed again.

“We’ll drive you home.  What happened… Zed, please.”  Addison’s mind came up with a mess of words, all of them inadequate to describe what she was thinking.  Zed must have somehow understood what she was trying to communicate, because he transferred her hand to his other side, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

Zed’s instinct was to tease her about not being able to let go, but he understood her concern.  They walked side by side up the steps, Zed following Addison into the house.  Missy and Dale were waiting just in the entrance. Missy made a small noise of shock when Zed entered the house; Addison’s grip on his hand was calm and reassuring.

“Dad, it’s getting late.  We lost track of the time and I was hoping you could drive Zed home?”

Zed looked at Addison’s family, then shrugged.  “It’s not too far of a walk, sir,” he said stiffly.

“Zed, no. We already discussed this.  Dad, they wouldn’t stop.  All day, people were saying such horrible things.  They threatened Zed.”

“You threatened them back,” Zed mumbled the reminder.

“Yeah. And I’m following through.” Addison’s face softened.  “I’m just rooting for us,” she said gently.

Dale had already fished his keys from his pocket.  “It’s late, you’ve had your share of trouble for the day, and you’re fifteen.  And I happen to know that Zevon is waiting up for you, Zed.”  He shrugged at Zed’s look of confusion.  “I’m the chief, kid.  All in a day’s work.”  The role of zombie patrol was changing.  Helping zombies instead of prosecuting them.  “He’s worried.  Rightfully so, it would appear.  Let’s go.”

“Yes sir.” Zed followed Dale to the car, Addison beside him.  Dale said nothing.

It was late and the roads were empty.  It was late and Addison was having trouble keeping her eyes open.  Zed slowly became aware of a soft buzzing noise.  He looked down to see his girlfriend snoring on his chest.  Dale turned up the radio, and Zed shifted in the seat, smiling at the sleeping human. When they arrived at the Necrodopolous home, Zed removed Addison’s grip on his forearms with ease.  She stirred as he left the seat beside her and Zed stared at her, an exhausted smile on his lips.  He leaned forward back into the car, hesitating before pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.  From the front seat, Dale said nothing, but turned down the radio.

“Good night, sir,” Zed opened the car door gently as to not wake her.

“No more impromptu sleepovers, Zed.”  Dale looked at his daughter’s boyfriend, his expression unreadable.  “I was a teenager once too, you know.  I know that my daughter didn’t randomly decide to spend the night at her cousin’s after your date.  Just…be careful.”

“We’re fifteen…”  Zed said uselessly.

Dale nodded.  “I’d best get her home.”

“Good night, sir.”  Zed exited the car, which stayed running in the street until the front door had closed. He was about to head upstairs when he noticed the kitchen lights were still on.  Sighing as he ran a hand through his hair, Zed entered the room. “I’m home, Dad.”

Zevon lifted his head from the table, where he had clearly been dozing.  “Curfew, son.”

“Hey, the Chief drove me home,” Zed replied.  “I’m going to bed.  Good night, Dad.”

“Good night, son.”

Notes: These kids just can’t leave each other alone!  First Addison walks Zed home.  Then Zed walks Addi home.  And now Addison’s taking Zed back to Zombietown again!  But they’re still kids.  There’s so much fic where kids are doing adult stuff.  Now, I might be out of the loop, being in my twenties and aro, but I need these kids to be weirded out by going too far.  They’re kids.

[lunaraen]

I present.... were-Quinn au, any prompt u like,, just,, Were-Quinn thanks in advance

Quinn, for all her attachment to control and to her life havingsome degree of predictability, has come to accept that there are some parts ofher life destined for random chaos and less expected twists.

It hasn't been all bad; they've managed to live through it, eachand every one of them, despite it all.

For as much trouble as she and her friends get into, usually dueto the whims of others, it's said chaos that led to her gaining any realfriends in the first place, to finding and creating their odd little familyafter she was so sure that all she really wanted was to be alone.

It hasn't exactly been all good either, though.

"Ow!" Because maybe Quinn's life was lonely before,but at least it wasn't constantly weird. Or annoyingly painful. She winces,tasting blood as she pushes herself upright from where she's lying on Kate'scouch, and doesn't quite manage to hold back her frustration when she realizesshe hadn't even been talking this time. Her cheek's paying for it all the same,stinging where it rests against her teeth. "What the h--"

Kate, who's put up with this longer than Quinn herself might'veif she was the one listening and not in pain, doesn't even look up from herbook this time, lowering it just enough for Quinn to see her sunglasses slidingdown the bridge of her nose before Kate nudges them back up.

"Quinn, can you not bite your own cheek for fiveminutes?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize how easy it was to deal with stupid sharp teeth-- ow!" Karma rearsits spiky head, and Quinn's fingers dig into the couch, half curling into fistsas she brushes her tongue over her front teeth, the least painful so far."Seriously, why can't they change quickly? Or later?"

"It's a sign somebody wants you to be quiet untiltonight." The pause lasts just long enough for Kate to clearly considerholding back some comment before deciding against restraint, lifting the bookonce again so the bottom of the dusty tome and her elbows rest against thetable while she all but buries her nose in archaic illustrations and crypticwriting. "Me. I want you to be quietfor a few hours so I can piece together some answers without you freakingout."

Tempting as it might be to try and blame Kate, none of this isher fault and she's only tried to help. Quinn can imagine her own temperwouldn't be much better if she listened to someone complain this long.

Still, she allows herself a bit of sulking as she lies backdown, softened pouting tempered by appreciation for how much Kate’s trying todo.

"Nobody ever really goes to you for emotional support, dothey?"

"That's what Zed's for." Zed, sitting on the otherside of the table, waves when Kate gestures to him, still slowly paging througha different, smaller book with his other hand. "They come to me for mycharming personality-- and apparently my library. I'm impressed you think I'll have something on this when youdon't. You're much more of a mythology buff than I am."

If Quinn could rely on that knowledge, she would.

Werewolf would have been her first guess, but none of thevariations she's ever heard of match enough with her symptoms or dreadfullylong transformation.

Never mind that, as far as she knows, she hasn't been bitten orscratched at by a were-anything, so she has no idea what passed this on, andthe potential candidates are too many to list thanks to how many monsters liketargeting her and her friends and how many of them Quinn beats back on theregular.

What little bits of fur Quinn has are both too short and toosoft, currently, to really say what animal or monster she's becoming, otherthan that becoming it's a slow process and that it has darned sharp teeth.

And a hearty appetite for something meaty, which helps not atall with deciding on a cure or preparation steps beyond hoping cooked food willdo.

There’s cooked steaks in her bag, and it better be enough.

She doesn’t want to pay for Kate’s groceries, or steal them inthe first place, and she really doesn’t want to rely on whatever food sourceZed’s been using.

"And you know way more about generally spooky things than Ido." Coming to Kate still wasn't a solely logical decision, if sensible inthe first place, and Quinn at least takes comfort in the familiarity of herhome and the couch she'd currently flopped down on. "There's an endlessamount of creepy islands, and at least one of them has to have had somethinglike this."

"It might, but the closest I know of is the one with themonster livestock." Kate huffs, flipping through several pages beforeglancing back up at her, one eyebrow quirked. "I don't know about all the isles, you know."

It's an odd admission of relative weakness, coming from someonewho was, and occasionally still is, so ready to seem smarmily all-knowing andall-powerful.

"It would be too convenient if you did." Quinn's wordsare slower, clunkier and more careful as she tries to keep her teeth fromsnagging on some part of her mouth. She's not successful, already aching cheeknearly sliced by the largest and sharpest tooth.

She doesn't cry out in frustration or pain this time, insteadgrimacing as her mouth clamps shut, but it doesn't stop Kate from leveling heran unimpressed look.

"You really just want to tear your mouth apart, don'tyou?"

"...I didn't think I'd be jealous of monster farm animals,but at least they got the transformation part over with quickly. I think we'dhave noticed if they were just slowly becoming devil cows."

Kate grins briefly, teeth half showing as she pauses.

"It's possible. Most of you were more focused on buildingyour shelter-- and Durango's hardly that observant." There's a pause,obviously intended to allow for or to signal a reaction, and she gets one,Quinn not quite catching her huff of agreement in time. Kate's smile shifts,fading almost entirely as she shakes her head, turning another page. "Partof what made the island a fun choice was the drama of their quick shifts. Idon't know if I've seen or heard of any situation drawn out like yours."

(Quinn ignores the unspoken, doesn't try to think about whatZed's own transformation was like or how much of it Kate witnessed.

She's glad it was quick.)

"What, inconvenient and painful? We've all been therebefore."

Quinn's smile is tired, strained, and weak.

"Not like this." Kate's smile is nonexistent as sheshakes her head. "Those were all fairly temporary or brief situations, andcertainly never required this much energy or set up."

There's a biting comment to be made there, about how Kate's workwas cut out for her in the first "season" thanks to her command blockand how they had even less time in the second one thanks to Poseidon and his,but Quinn doesn't miss the subtext or the way Kate worries her lower lipbetween her teeth.

As over dramatic as Kate likes being, the action and theunderlying anxiety are too subdued and too realto reassure her any.

"Wait, wait." Quinn's voice doesn't waver, smile hardeninginto something firm and far less smile-like, brow pinching together even as shekeeps the confusion and panic out of her voice because Quinn hasn't gonethrough so much, grown as a person and pushed through everything that's beenthrown at her and her friends, just to panic over a possibility. That's notsomething a leader does, no matter how justified or worn out. "It could bepermanent?"

The possibility is still terrifying.

Her attempt to straighten up further is met by a hand pressingflat against her torso, Kate's book forgotten on the table and Zed also on hisfeet, several steps away from Kate.

"Lie down."Kate's pushing doesn't have the force to actually stop Quinn from sitting up,but her look does, her sunglasses having shifted just far enough down her noseagain for Quinn to see how tired she looks, far enough for Kate to look whollyunimpressed down at Quinn over her sunglasses. "You're not doing yourselfany favors by getting worked up over what might happen. It's a guess, and it'snot exactly my best one- I haven't gotten a chance to talk to many werewolves.Maybe the first shift, or turning, or whatever, is supposed to be long. Yourbody's never done it before."

Kate's grins are as flashy as ever, but Quinn's seen enough toknow when they're just that, all flash and no substance.

There's no audience to show them off for, though, and while Katemight be doing it to try and put Quinn at ease, or even both her and Zed, theyseem more to try and comfort herself, and her explanation sounds more tired andoff the cuff than equally orchestrated and bold.

It's a scary thought.

(Also not helping is that, for the first time since coming here,something's drowning out the scent of rotting flesh. As happy as Quinn could bethat her improving sense of smell isn't flooded by Zed, the new scent's hardlybetter, and while Quinn could try and claim that her growing hunger is just dueto the transformation, because rotting flesh making her stomach gnaw and achethe way it does is gross, it's harder to ignore how the new smell makes hermouth water.

Quinn thinks it's fear, strong and almost unbearably tasty, andshe doubts it's her own. She swallows, and hopes Kate thinks it's because ofany number of doubts not related to eating Kate or Zed alive.

Something inside her is hungry, ravenous and demanding as ittears at her from the inside, and she shoves it down like the animal it is.)

"Kate, we don't even know what I'm becoming." Kate'sseriousness is off-putting, and Quinn gingerly attempts another dry grin, carefulnot to smile too widely as she relaxes, reclining again until Kate pulls herhand back. "Beyond something with stupidly sharp teeth."

"And we don't know if there's a cure, or how long thetransformation's supposed to last, or even how you'll act once it'scomplete." Kate might be tired of her own solemnity, tone more aloof asshe brushes her hair back, examining her nails afterwards with a sly smile."I really don't want to think about you attacking me in my house all alonein the woods. I don't even have neighbors who could react and be properlytraumatized."

"How inconvenient for you." And Quinn, terrified ofbeing stuck in another form, of losing who she is mentally, of wanting to eather friends, revels in the simple act of rolling her eyes. "I promise if Ikill you I'll try to make it more... sensational. Publicly disturbing?"

Another joking offer, light in tone and waved off by Kate.

"Oh, there are few things more disturbing than finding awerewolf den in a dead person's home." Kate lowers her hand, leaningagainst the couch's arm rest, and begins eyeing the nails on her other one."I'd just like to stir up some sympathy before I die."

It's taken a lot of work to get Kate to admit she wantssympathy-- emotional involvement-- just as much as, if not more than, sheerattention.

Quinn can cherish that later.

"Sounds like a deal." It's too much to sit with insilence, and she forces herself to push through the lingering levity, shouldersrelaxing against the couch cushion once again as she looks up at Kate."...you have actually useful potions stored up, right?"

"No, I just buy potion ingredients and shiny vials forfun."

The potion ingredients are more for bragging and shelf decorinside their own jars, Kate's knowledge of making things for herself slowlyincreasing but still sparse, while the potions and elixirs are as useful asthey are shiny and expensive, only the occasional bottle filled with a glitteryparty favor type brew.

Quinn's not looking to sparkle.

"I'll pay you back- or get the ingredients and help teachyou how to make a new one that's just as good- but if you think there's achance I'll hurt you, there's no harm in giving me a weakness potion or twobefore the transformation really gets underway."

"Because drugging you isn't going to have any serious sideeffects mid-transformation."

Kate's tone isn't any less critical, as easy to shrug off asQuinn finds it. Acting weird beats acting homicidal, or predatory, or whateverharming Kate or Zed would count as post-transformation.

"Better if I'm loopy than you dead. What, afraid I mightend up chewing on one of your shoes?"

It's the wrong thing to say.

Kate's finger ends up jabbed against Quinn's chest again, andfrankly Quinn thinks she's the one who ought to sound exasperated after all theprodding. Kate pulls off the unpleased air well, though.

"Quinn, you coulddie if the transformation goes wrong. What if it makes your bones reshapewrong? Or messes with your organs when they move?"

For all her huffiness, Kate sounds legitimately concerned.

Quinn wants to mourn the painkillers she'll be needing but notgetting, but staying alive is a slightly higher priority.

"Alright, then chain me up."

Kate blinks at her, sharing an uneasy glance with Zed, beforecrossing her arms.

"We do have someleft over from a challenge we never got to start. Fine. The things I do forfriends." For you, morespecific, goes unsaid, and it works well enough. There maybe wouldn't be asmuch banter, between Kate and any of their other friends, but it's easy enoughto imagine her chaining them up, for both her sake and theirs.

(Unfairly easy, given prior, but far less constricting,imprisonment.

Quinn guesses she's lucky enough that Kate doesn't considertossing her in one of her more (but not entirely) secured obsidian prisons, asmuch as most of her trusts Kate more than that by this point.)

"Hey, friends who give you attention and keep you fromgoing stir crazy out here."

"It's amazing- I think you've finally shown me that thereare some types of attention I can live without. People desperately coming to mefor help and with worries about dying is one of them."

"I'll pay you back for that later too."

"You will." Rather than getting poked or shoved again,Kate settles for giving her a pointed look. It feels similar enough."Because you're going to transform back after the night's over, withoutmaiming me, and I'll be waiting for my payment. You better craft me something nice."

It shouldn't be a tall order; Quinn'll see to making sure thatit isn't, that things go that well without any of this coming back to bite atKate.

(Literally. Even taking murder or massive physical trauma offthe table, Quinn has no current interest in making Kate whatever she'sbecoming, in making her go through this kind of aching, throbbing pain orconstant background worrying about her own fate.

Whatever she becomes might feel differently about having packmates, but that's tough for later-Quinn.

They'll do their best to make sure it's not an option.)

[crashdevlin]

Zed Word-10: Love. Actually.

Zed Word Masterlist

Author’s Note: Originally posted to ao3. This was inspired by a series of tweets between Jeffery Dean Morgan and Jensen Ackles…. Sam and Dean never found John, but everything went the same way anyway until Season 5. Adam never said ‘yes’ to Michael. The fight at Stull Cemetery never happened but Lucifer (jumping from vessel to vessel ‘cause Sam wouldn’t say ‘yes’) and Pestilence managed to infect everyone with Croatoan, turning everyone into zombies when they die. The boys have traveled the apocalyptic landscape killing zombies and saving people ever since. JOHN IS NEGAN!!!

Summary: Reader has been living in Alexandria since Daryl saved her life. When she ventures out of town for the first time in months, Sam and Dean save her life and she takes them back to Alexandria, a town on edge since Negan showed up. Dean takes an instant interest in the woman, and when Negan shows up again, he does, too.

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Negan (John Winchester) x Reader

Story Warnings: Kidnapping, torture, Non-con/dub-con, unprotected sex of a forced nature, pregnancy, mentions of abortion, PTSD, *THIS IS A DARK FIC*

Chapter Warnings: manipulation, pregnancy stuff, tainted food, oral (fem and male rec), unprotected sex, noncon/dubcon,  18+ HERE BE SEX, DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!

You stood awkwardly behind the men as Sam opened the box, sliding the pieces of wood to reveal a large, old key. Exactly how you'd dreamed it. Every matching image from your dream made your stomach feel a little sicker. The house, the key, the door on the river... there would be a spiral staircase on the other side, leading into a room with a light-up table with a map on it. Computer banks would line the walls of the first room, but they'd give way to an open library full of lore and magic books. Dean would find the power switch and everyone would go exploring.

Sam swung the door open and took a cautious step over the threshold, pistol in one hand, machete in the other. John followed, then Dean. Chuck shot an apologetic look at you before stepping over the threshold and you felt like you were glued to the ground. Panic rising in your chest, you considered running again. If you ran, the dream couldn't be real. If you ran, though, Lucifer might get his hands on both babies and you couldn't risk that. It needed to be done. God chose you to... God chose your children to get this over with.

You took a deep breath and forced your legs to move, carrying you into the bunker as Dean found the power switch and the lights came on. John quickly came up and closed the door behind you as your eyes fell on the exact images from your dream. "Oh, God." fell from your lips.

"All right. Sam, Dean, spread out, check for zombies. Prophet, keep an eye on our girl." John ordered. He said it like it was your safety on his mind, but you read it for what it meant. 'Don't let her run.'

The Winchesters descended the staircase and disappeared. They wouldn't find anything. You sat on the top stair and hung your head. Chuck sat next to you and folded his hands in his lap. "I'm sorry."

"The dream... it's all real. It's all real, isn't it?" You didn't look at him as tears started to gather at the corners of your eyes.

"Probably. Yeah." He answered, softly.

"Why would I do that? Why would I let him... why would I put that ring on? I have to be missing something."

"The visions are like that, sometimes. Sometimes there's big chunks of important information missing. Like, one time, I saw Sam in bed with this demon, Lilith, but I didn't see that he had the demon-killer knife under the pillow. And I didn't see that Sam killing Lilith would let Lucifer out of his Cage. I didn't see the twins." He finished, softly.

You looked over at him, finding comfort in his blue eyes. "Why me?" You whispered. You weren't sure why, but you honestly felt he had that answer.

He put his hand on your back, running his thumb across your coat. "Because John picked you." He sighed. "He's got Sherry and he's got that group back at the Sanctuary, but... once he... after he had you... y/n, you know how obsessed with Mary he is. He's replaced her in his heart, after 30 years, with you."

"But I don't want that."

"Mary didn't, either. Not at first. The angels interfered." Chuck's face showed volumes of pity. "The Cupids are gone, so you couldn't be forced to fall in love with him, so you just..."

"Had to be forced. Right." You leaned your head against his shoulder. "So, God must hate me, right?"

"Nah. I don't think so. I think... he probably admires your strength and intelligence. I think he's probably happy John picked a woman who sees the big picture, who's strong enough to put her stuff away and do what needs to be done. What Sam and Dean couldn't do."

"Place is clean." John's voice made you tense, but Chuck slipped his arm around you, comfortingly, before helping you stand. John's eyes narrowed at the contact between you and the prophet, but he turned and headed for the hallway you knew led to the bedrooms. "This one's yours." He opened the door with a '12' on it. "You get one of the ones in the cross hall." He spat at Chuck.

Chuck patted your arm and you slipped into room 12, slamming the door behind you. You looked in the mirror over the sink next to the door and sighed. You looked like shit. Your eyes were sunken and you were obviously dehydrated. Your face was sunburned, your skin was dry and your hair was stringy and oily. You needed a shower and a meal and... the apocalypse to be over. You needed the Winchesters to go the fuck away. All of them. Sam seemed okay, but you were certain that was only because he wasn't trying to or failing to fuck you.

You collected all of your clothes from your bag and headed down the hall to the shower room. You locked the door behind you and took a nice hot shower with the best water pressure you'd ever experienced. You wrapped yourself in an thick, old robe and tied the sash in a double knot, before picking up all of your clothes and heading to the laundry room. You put your clothes into the old Bendix washing machine and poured some detergent powder in on top of them. You started the machine and ran for your bedroom, locking the door behind you. The woman in the mirror looked like you again, but you were definitely in need of some water, so you filled a cup that was sitting on the sink and sat on the bed to drink your water in your comfy robe.

Your stomach was starting to growl when a knock came to your door. "Go away."

"Thought you might be hungry. It's been a while since you ate. You want some chicken noodle?" John's voice was barely muffled by the hard wood door.

Your stomach spoke for you, rumbling at the thought of food. You stood, double-checking yourself in the mirror to make sure the robe was completely covering you before opening the door. His eyes roamed over your body, like he was imagining what's under that robe. He smiled and offered you the bowl. You took it in both hands and sat on the bed, pushing the robe down your legs and putting the bowl in your lap. You took a bite of the soup and smiled. It was warm. Actual real warm soup was something you hadn't experienced in a long while. "Thanks, John."

John shut the door behind him and looked down at you, a soft smile on his face. "No problem. Thanks for accepting it. After how I acted the other night, I was afraid you'd throw it in my face."

"Too hungry to waste good food like that." You responded, pulling another spoonful of soup to your lips.

"I wanted to apologize for that. You know, I knew I went too far as soon as I walked away. I don't want you scared of me, Y/n." He said, sitting down on the edge of your bed. You chose to ignore his proximity by shoveling more soup into your mouth. "I want you to love me. I want you to be mine and no one else's, y/n, and I know that's a stupid thought now and I wish I hadn't treated the way I did. I was so afraid I'd ruined any chance I had of making you my wife, all because I called you 'Muffy' and made you get a little too intimate with Lucille." You shivered at the memory and swallowed another mouthful of soup. "But then, Chuck gave me an idea. See, my beautiful Mary, she had to be persuaded to love me. A Cupid got her, shot her with some Enochian spell to make her fall head over heels for me."

You looked up, your eyebrows coming together in confusion. His smirk was enough to make you nauseated. "You really shouldn't accept food from a crazy, controlling sociopath. He might have dosed it with love potion." You threw the bowl off of your lap and it crashed to the floor, splashing the bed frame with pieces of chicken and veggies. "These Men of Letters, they had so many books, so many spells. It took me half an hour to find the components for that spell. Can you imagine? It took me years just to find the proper sigils to protect the Sanctuary. I not only found the spell, but the pieces I needed to put it together in this bunker, in less than an hour. This really is a dream come true."

"You poisoned me?!"

"Shh." He ran his hand down your arm and it sent a confused fog to your brain. "In a couple minutes, it won't matter. You'll be in love."

You squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head. "No." You said, weakly, trying to get off of your bed. He grabbed your arms and pulled you back onto the bed. You grabbed onto his white tee and tried to not look at him, but after a moment you blinked up at him. Your fingers relaxed and your hands came to rub across his chest. "John." You breathed out.

"Yeah, sweetheart?" He asked, his smirk making his eyes sparkle.

"I'm so sorry I ever doubted your love. I can feel it, now." You stared into his eyes, completely sure of the mutual love in your hearts. "I love you, too, John."

"Of course, you do. How about you show me just how much you love me, baby girl?" He suggested, pushing your hands down to the button of his jeans.

"Anything for you, John." You responded, wistfully, leaning forward to catch his lips while you popped the button and pulled his zipper down. "I wanna make up for all the horrible things I said about you, the terrible way I treated you." You mumbled against his lips as he leaned back to lie on the bed, taking you with him to lie on top of him. "I want to make you feel so good to make up for how bad you must've felt hearing me say all those-"

"Sweetheart, shut up and suck my cock." He whispered, amused. He shimmied his jeans down his legs.

"Of course." You grabbed his dick, almost immediately hard in your hand and ran your hand up and down it in exactly the way he'd taught you. You leaned forward and swiped your tongue across the head. He grunted and his hand buried in your hair, but you didn't let him push your head down. You brought your lips to his cockhead, placing kisses down his length until you got to the nest of hair at the base before twisting to place those kisses on his balls. You licked from the base to his head and dipped your tongue into the divot where precum was already starting to gather. "Have I ever told you how much I love your cock, John? It's so perfect, so nice, so big." You praised, before taking him in your mouth until he hit the back of your throat. You pumped the base of his dick as you bobbed your head up and down, nipping slightly at his frenulum every time you came up to the head.

"Oh, sweetheart, you are gorgeous. Swallowing my cock so pretty. I'm gonna fuck you 'til you can't move." He grunted. You moaned as he pushed you backward onto the mattress and easily pulled the knot out of the sash on your robe. He pulled your robe open and stared down at your body. "Oh, y/n. I fuckin' love your body." He ran his hand across your belly, the bump already becoming prominent with the twin boys inside your womb. "I want you to scream for me. Can you do that, sweetheart? I want you to scream my name. I want them to know who you love."

"Okay." You breathed out as his head dropped between your legs. He didn't go slow, no licking and nibbling his way to the place you needed him most. He rammed his tongue into your entrance, his nose rubbing against your clit as his hand came up under your ass to push your groin into his face. "Oh, fuck! Oh, John. More." John smirked as he pulled back enough to look up into your face, before sucking your clit between his lips and sucking on it, hard. "Ah!"

He crawled up your body and looked down into your eyes, his cock pulsing against your lips. "I love you, y/n." He whispered, cupping your face in his right hand before kissing you deeply. You grabbed at his shoulders and wrapped your legs around him. He reached between you and lined his cock up, sinking into you with ease. His head dropped to the crook of your neck and he groaned, licking at your skin. "God, I missed you. Those beautiful tits, your amazing strong tight pussy... do that thing I like." He ordered, nibbling at your shoulder.

You clenched your vaginal muscles, making him groan. He held tight to you as he pulled almost all of the way out and then began to push back into you, pushing an inch or two in, then pulling out and pushing in even further. You threw your head back as he bottomed out. It'd been months since he was inside you and you felt a little breathless at finally having the man you loved where he belonged again. "Remember, sweetheart. Loud as you can, let my sons and the prophet know exactly who you love."

You nodded and he grabbed your shoulder as he began to thrust into you. "Oh, my god! John! God, yes! Oh, god!" You screamed. Normally, you weren't so vocal, but that's what your love wanted from you, so you screamed and moaned like a porn star as he picked up his speed and fucked you hard. He moved his left hand between you and used his thumb to rub your clit to orgasm as he came deep inside of you. You fell over the ledge right after him, screaming as loud as you could.

He pulled out and kissed you, softly, before jumping up off of the bed. "Let me go check on your clothes, okay, babe? Why don't you clean yourself up? And, uh, that soup you dropped."

"Yeah." You said, sitting up and pulling the robe back around yourself.

"Hey, y/n?" He stopped at the door. You looked over at him. "I love you."

"I love you, too, John." You smiled, happily as he slipped out the door, quickly closing it behind him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

John shut the door and turned around to see Dean leaning against the wall across from the door. His arms were crossed over his chest and there was a deep scowl on his face. He straightened when he saw his father. "What the fuck?!"

"What?" John started, innocently, before throwing a look at the bedroom. "Oh. We made up."

Dean pushed away from the wall. "You made up? From you kidnapping and raping her? You made up from treating her like a fucking dog?"

Dean moved to open the door, but John put his hand up to stop him. "I told you, Dean. It's all about how you treat her and... you didn't treat her right. Didn't treat her like the strong, beautiful woman she is."

"Move out of the way. Let me talk to her."

"Of course, Dean. I was just trying to save you from some disappointment." John feigned an earnest expression as he moved out of the way and Dean moved to knock on door number 12. He walked down the hall toward the laundry room with a smirk on his face.

Dean glared at his father's back as he walked down the hallway. He didn't knock on the door, just opened it and walked in. "Y/n?"

She was on the floor, cleaning up a spilled bowl of soup with the sash of her robe. She looked up. "Oh, Dean. I thought... thought you were John."

Dean's eyebrows came together as she smiled up at him, holding her robe closed with her left hand. "Are-are you okay? I mean, you-"

"I know what you're gonna say." She stood, looking a bit embarrassed. "I'm usually not that loud, you know, but John wanted me to vocalize. I think it's a dominance thing."

"A..." Dean shook his head. "What... what's goin' on?"

"I think he just wanted to make sure everyone knew that we were... together, you know?"

"But why are you together? I'm sorry. I'm just so... confused, here."

She sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at him, pity in her eyes as she gave a tight smile. "Dean... your father loves me."

"He tortured you."

"He had to. His men are terrible, okay? They would have seen how he feels about me and they would have done so much worse to me. He saved me. Because he loves me. We're in love, Dean."

"But you weren't this morning." Dean growled.

She nodded in understanding. "I get what this is about. You're jealous."

"What?! No, I'm not jea-"

"You had your chance, Dean. You're the one who said 'pineapple'."

"This isn't about that! He's horrible! What the hell has he done to you?"

She shook her head. "He hasn't done anything to me. I just... realized, you know?"

"You just realized?" Dean scoffed, shaking his head. "Right. Yesterday you hated him, but today you realized you love him? That doesn't seem wonky to you?"

She shrugged. "No. Not really." She dropped back down to clean up the soup. "Oh! So, I was thinking that maybe you and Sam could go to Alexandria and pick up everybody, bring them back here where it's safe."

Dean leaned against the sink. "That's not gonna happen."

"Well, I know it's not ideal. I mean, maybe you don't bring the whole town, but definitely Daryl and Michonne and Maggie. I mean, she's gonna want somewhere safe for baby Rhee and I guess Rick would have to come if Judith and Carl were gonna come. Rosita would be nice for Sam to have some fun with, but..."

"That's not the problem. Negan killed their people. They're not just gonna get over that and live with him in harmony." Dean looked down at her as she scooped soup in her hands and dropped it into the bowl.

"Well, they'll have to get over that. He's the father of my children and I love him. If they care about me, they'll get over it." She looked up at him from the floor and gave a pointed look. "Everyone who cares about me should get over this."

"If they care about you, they won't want you being controlled by a psycho like him." Dean shook his head, stepping away from the sink. "I'm gonna find out what he did to you."

Y/n sighed, wiping up the rest of the soup with the edge of her robe, before standing and dropping the bowl in the sink. "He didn't do anything, Dean."

"Yes, he did. Whatever it is, you can't see it, but I know-"

"She said I didn't do anything, son. You callin' her a liar, or just stupid?" John opened the door and walked in. "Your clothes are in the dryer, baby. You're gonna be stuck in that robe for another hour, or so." He moved to stand in front of her, grasping the edges of her robe. "Wonder how we could kill an hour."

"John!" She squealed and giggled as he pushed her into the wall and attacked her neck with his mouth. "John, Dean's right there!"

"He can watch, if he wants." John whispered as he reached down to grab her legs and hitch them around his waist. "Long as he keeps his distance."

The bedroom door slammed as Dean fled the room in a rage. He stomped down the hallway to Chuck's room, which was open. "Explain that!" He demanded, pointing in the direction of y/n's room.

Chuck shook his head. "I don't have all the answers, man! I don't know how to explain that."

"Okay." Dean closed the door behind him. "Then, tell me what she was so upset about yesterday. What about the dream was she freakin' out about?"

Chuck sighed and looked down. "This... and the ring."

"The what?"

"He's gonna ask her to marry him. She's gonna say 'yes' and she's gonna... John's been carrying around Mary's wedding ring for thirty years."

"No." Dean's face fell. "He's not gonna give her my mother's ring. She wouldn't accept that." He began to pace the small room. "Especially if she was so worried about it yesterday. He had to have done something to her. Blackmail? Cursed item? Love spell?"

"I don't know, but I mean, John's not a witch."

"But you agree that isn't natural?" Dean turned to him.

"I... agree it's weird. But, you know, maybe she just had a change of heart. Women are prone to change their minds, right?"

"Chuck... don't be an idjit. Women don't change their minds like that." He pointed toward her room again. "They don't fall in love with a guy who raped them and treated them like a dog for almost a month."

"Stockholm Syndrome?"

"No." Dean shot down that idea immediately. "She's been out of his influence for-"

"Yeah, but... John can protect her."

"I can protect her." Dean argued.

"But you can't make her feel whole." Chuck answered, bending down to pull a notebook out of his bag. "Okay, I have an answer on this one." He flipped the book open and flipped to the back.

"Chuck, I don't wanna read your stupid-"

"Pick up the book and read, Dean."

Dean sighed, loudly, and picked up the notebook.

She remembered watching the zombie as it tried to crawl away. It was a perfect metaphor for her. No longer human. No longer whole. Just there, plugging forward, responding to outside stimulus but nothing else. Dean said he loved her and he dearly wanted to, she could tell, but he couldn't love her. The only one who wanted her, as is (pregnant, broken, conditioned to be the way John wanted her) was John. He swore he was in love with her, too, and somehow it was more believable from him. Of course, he only loved her the way he made her, but he was probably the only one who would ever love her. Dean couldn't love her. Dean had said 'pineapple', he'd never be able to look past her conditioning, her training. So, her options were wait and then run where she would be alone, (which she hated), stay with Dean and be content never knowing his touch, or let John have her again. Bow to what he made of her and how he made her body feel.

"What the hell is this, Chuck? Are you tryin' to tell me it's my fault she's in bed with him?"

"I'm tryin' to tell you that she's... I don't know, Dean, that she... has needs? I mean, you know... You fucked up. You knew you fucked up as soon as it happened. Maybe she just... chose the option that was easiest. All of her needs can be met this way, and the babies' needs."

Dean shook his head. He refused to believe that. "No. No, he did something. This isn't..." He threw the notebook on Chuck's bed. "I'm gonna figure it out." He pulled the door open and stomped down the hall toward his own room.

Hunters- @letsby, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @adoptdontshoppets, @spnskinnyballs

Zed Word Tags- @mannls

Everything Tags- @heyitscam99

[kariachi]

Oh, look, some Ken/Argit/Kevin fic! With domestic fluff! And appearances by ocs of both papa’s and mel’s creation! On rach’s birthday! (and yes I did alter this for your birthday because I knew you’d like the change)

Yippee!

Getting out of bed in the morning was always a chore. Bad enough it was warm and comfortable enough to never want to leave, it didn’t matter when he’d gone to bed Kevin always ended up pinned down. Ken would be laying across his arm, pressed against his side, and Argit would be strewn over the both of them like a spiny quilt. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Kevin wasn’t always the first one awake, but alas. Instead every morning he had to crawl out from under them, always waking Argit in the process- who would try to go back to sleep and fail, causing him to complain about how Ken could sleep through the apocalypse while Kevin made breakfast.

“Rad would wake his own ass up in the mornings.”

“Rad would’ve shot us both, and you’d have still brought Ken home.” With a grumble Argit leaned back against the cabinetry, lapping at his mug of tea.

“What’s for breakfast?”

“Skip, double portions.”

“My favorite.” Kevin huffed a small laugh and continued to dig through the fridge. He really didn’t feel like making a big breakfast, he was running on too little sleep and too little coffee for that, but only over his dead body was anybody starting the day with cold cereal or something.

“Eggs good for you?”

“You know me,” Argit said with a shrug, “I’ll eat anything. The question is will the kids?”

“If we starve them long enough.” A carton of eggs, leftover turkey (which he was still shocked by, how had they managed leftovers?), and some peppers made their way out onto the counter. “Grab an onion for me?”

“Yes, Ravrsa.”

It was a nice routine really. Life had gotten busy, with work, with kids, with animals, and the early morning made for some quiet time the two of them could spend together. Almost like old times, Argit watching Kevin cook, Zed sat patiently waiting for any tidbits that might get thrown her way. Between five-thirty and six they got peace.

They didn’t even need a clock in the kitchen, because five out of seven days six am was signaled by the sound of a cellphone hitting a wall and the lights flickering.

“One of you wake your father up before you come down!”

Argit was already eating and Kevin was sliding a second omelet onto a plate by the time the kids started trickling down into the kitchen. First Devlin and Gadget, both still young enough to be visibly excited to start the day, then Ezekiel, just in time to steal Gadget’s breakfast and what was left of Argit’s tea. Chastity, dragging Eni and Jen along with her and all looking just about dead, because apparently once you turned eighteen you didn’t need to sleep and Erinaen/werewolf hybrids were about as far from morning people as you could get and still be people alive in the morning.

Both were careful to keep a headcount as the kitchen filled and everything dissolved into a sort’ve orderly chaos. One of those great side effects of having more children than sense (there’d been no discussion, but silent agreement held that Devlin and Gadget were it, that was the end, they were done) was that while everybody could work around each other like clockwork if they wanted to, there was never quiet. By the time the twins had collapsed next to Argit in an attempt at getting back to sleep there were already three conversations ongoing, Ezekiel had been scolded into giving back Gadget’s omelet, and everyone was ignoring the two of them kicking at each other under the table for their own sanity. And there were still only six-

“He threw a pillow at me!”

Seven. The prodigal daughter returned, Ken following groggily behind, still in his underwear. Everybody who wasn’t trying to sleep stifled laughter.

“And?” Huffing, Erika draped herself over Kevin’s back.

“I want you to kill him.”

“We are not killing him.” Ken raised his hand slightly.

“And if I want to die?”

“Too bad.” With a grumble Ken collapsed into the seat beside Argit, reaching down to scratch behind Eni’s ears.

“Worst husband.”

“We could always trade him in for another sheep,” Devlin suggested with a grin and Kevin paused, expression thoughtful.

“That is an idea…”

“No.” Argit threw a piece of pepper at his head, much to the children’s amusement. “We spent too much on the weddings to trade him in for another ewe.”

“How about a lot more ewes?” Ken looked down, betrayed, at Eni, stealing the last of Ezekiel’s stolen tea while he was at it.

“This, from my own child.” If anything this only helped in turning Erika’s pout into a wide grin as she joined in the discussion.

“We could trade him for more horses!”

“Do we need more horses?”

“Do we need more sheep?”

“We always need more sheep.”

“I’m about to trade all of you in for guinea pigs, be just me and Zed left,” Argit said, slipping out of his chair. “You want a full cup, Sisriih?”

“That would be great, hun.”

“You know,” Jen said as he walked away, stealing the seat, “I could really go for some guinea pig.”

“We do not eat pinea gigs in this house.” She blew a raspberry at Chastity as well as she could.

“Only because they’re not kosher.”

“They’re too cute and fluffy for eating.”

“Lambs are too, and we’ve still got four of those in the freezer.”

“Only three in the freezer, the other is jerky.” Kevin moved a sixth omelet onto a plate and handed it to Erika. “Reminds me, who’s gonna be helping me with lambing this year?” Immediately half the family tried to make themselves as small as possible. Erika began trying to sneak out the door with her food. “Come on, don’t make me pull names out of a hat again.”

“Would you look at the time,” Ezekiel said, stabbing the last large chunk of omelet on his plate as he stood, “we should be getting ready for school.”

“Totally.”

“Hate to be late.”

The adults just watched as the eldest three practically teleported out of the room with whatever food they had. Chastity, it seemed, was just abandoning the very idea of breakfast today all together in favor of escape, while the twins took advantage of the commotion to slip under the table and lie in wait. Ken chuckled at the sight as he accepted his newly-filled tea mug.

“We’ll help, Papa.” Gadget and Devlin at least were still sitting at the table, their food half eaten and both practically buzzing at the chance to help with the lambing. Same as for the last two years and something their elder siblings’ dislike of the job did nothing to curb. It just meant they could show them up.

“I’m sure you will,” Kevin said, “once you’re a bit bigger.” Faces fell.

“We’re big enough!”

“Yeah!”

“You two-” Ken reached out and put his hand between Gadget’s antennae with a fond smile “-are less than half the size of those sheep. You could get hurt.”

“We won’t,” she responded, both of them pouting now, just as with the last two years.

“Give it a while longer,” Argit said, leaning over to give Devlin’s hair a quick lick into place, “then you can help all you want.”

“It’s not fair…”

“Life’s not fair.” Kneeling briefly, Kevin passed two more omelets off to the twins, who immediately vanished out of the room. “Now if you two are done, you should clean up and get ready for school.”

“Alright…”

“But we are doing this under duress!” All three of them had to bite lips and clench jaws to keep from laughing as Gadget stormed out of the kitchen and Devlin moped after her.

“Those are your children.”

“Hey,” Ken said, “you’re the ones who wanted them.”  

“We didn’t want them so much as we just accumulated them over time.”

“Still, not my fault.”

“Oh really?” Kevin and Argit both raised a brow at him, though all of them were smiling. “Fairly certain we’ve both got the stretchmarks to prove you were involved in at least some of them.” Ken laughed and raised his mug.

“Faked,” he said. “Everyone knows you go out every other year to gather them from the wild.”

“Explains why half of them are wolves.”

“I’m blaming that on you too. Only a quarter of my family are wolves, at best, and then suddenly here you two are throwing them like mad? Clearly it’s your fault.” Shaking his head, Argit gave him a quick lick at the corner of the mouth.

“You know you love ‘em.”

“And us.” With a pleased noise Ken returned Argit’s gesture with a brief kiss and accepted a plate of food from Kevin.

“Nope, never.”

“Never?”

“The last seventeen years have meant nothing to me.” Both the other men gave a smile and snorted laugh.

“We’ll keep that in mind when anniversaries start coming up.”

[dapperfvck-arc]

🔥 The TV show... (Because I really want to know exactly why you don't like it [or hate it?] because i'm so freaking curious. Also I think in general a Constantine TV show would do best on AMC rather than NBC... FEEL FREE TO COMPLETELY RANT. I WANT TO KNOW. Please.)

Unpopular Opinion Time!

Oh boy. Hooooo boy. I’m still going to be relatively gentle, because honestly, I’m saving my true vitriol for the times that I must defend my choice not to RP it or for the hysterical consensus opinion from the fandom that TV show was an improvement over the film (lol nope, aside from Matt Ryan “looking the part” but that’s a whole other can of worms). 

Note: Cut for length and maybe a bit of brutality in my honesty.

*sighs* Ok, I’ll first preface this with that I still have like four episodes to go. Obviously, I have massive issues in the needless changes made to the adaption of comic canon. It was unnecessary to make Chas American while retaining the fact that he’s John’s oldest and best of friends. It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me, but who knows. Maybe it’s explained a little better in one of the last few episodes, but you know. My hopes aren’t high. I don’t like Chas’s virtual invulnerability, not just because it takes away the stakes of the danger he’s putting himself in, but also? It’s a plot device scarcely used? So why make that choice if it’s not going to be capitalized on with meaningful frequency? I hated that Zed was portrayed as a novice, and that the teeth were taken out from the Newcastle Incident. Now obviously, I understand why they’d have to alter a bit of it due to Network censorship, but at the same??? I mean child abuse and sexual violence are nothing new on shows like Law and Order: SVU and Criminal minds so…Idek, it kind of comes off as an excuse. It’s not a child’s show. Maybe it could be argued that it was marketed toward teenagers, but it’s not like they’re ignorant to those horrors in the world. I’m not asking them to show Astra’s rape, just to acknowledge the true horror of the situation instead of making it all about John’s failure. So yeah, I was annoyed by the occasional attempt to adapt source material and completely mucking it all up.

Now to begin with, I completely get the SP/N’s fandom bitterness more than ever. Before watching it I thought they were just trying to be like “whaaaat, another show about magic and exorcism? Of course it’s a ripoff because don’t you know our fandom invented those things?” I honestly believe the crux of the issue is that NBC clearly wanted their own SP/N as well as to cash in the popularity of comic book based media, so there’s that. To me, it comes off as a shameless cash grab. I honestly believe if I felt like there was some kind of passion from its creators, I could have dealt with some of those changes, but I don’t get that. It’s been a soulless experience overall. Like it’s not been a matter of me nitpicking like “oh this is wrong, this has been changed, boo hoo, it’s not all existential horror and fucking and drugs.”

Because frankly...I just think it’s a bad show. It’s poorly written, poorly made, poorly researched, poorly acted, it’s just bad. The main issue I have with it is that it’s a lot of telling and not showing. There’s not a lot of tension or foreshadowing, just “boom this is how it is” and so much exposition. John, for example, about half of his dialogue in any given show is verbal exposition. It’s frustrating, tbh. Like, it doesn’t make sense for me in this day and age for a TV show, even on a network channel, to be this bad. Over the past several years, television series have improved exponentially in content and writing. It’s not shameful anymore to start off on TV anymore. We’re in a very exciting time that television and cinema are almost completely on equal par of perceived quality. So yeah, it’s been an even greater disappointment for me because it’s not just that they fuck with the source material but because on top of that it’s literally a bad show. I’m not one bit surprised that it wasn’t renewed because there just...Isn’t enough to like about it. It’s not faithful enough to the comic to secure that base of fans and it’s not good enough to be taken for face value. 

The other massive issue I have is the portrayal of magic, which honestly extends to DC’s handling of Hellblazer and John as well. See, what you have to understand is that predominately, throughout the Vertigo series, it’s clear to me that most of its writers either have some awareness of how magic works or at least have done their research. I can follow the logic and ritual in what he’s doing. ​Let me tell you a little something about magic. It's all about focus and will. You can do and say whatever the hell you want as long as you're putting your intent behind it. The ritual of spell work, use of candles, crystals, incense, chanting, incantations, etc. are meant to be the focus of a magician's energy and will on a particular result, but it could be attempted without as well. To explain it in more fantastical terms, in Harry Potter casting without a wand is considered impressive. This implies that the wizard's focus and will is so strong that they no longer need a wand to draw out their intent. Now I get it. By this understanding magic doesn't make good TV viewing (I guess...), but my main concern with this series is there's no attempt to portray an iota of witchcraft's reality along with the fantastical. Now part of this problem is that they've removed a great deal of John's innate ability. He can no longer see spirits/ghosts and there is no mention to his connection to synchronicity (as far I’ve seen, mind). Instead of happening to end up where he needs to be or what have you, he's following a map, and he uses a lot of artifacts and other implementation to get the job done. Which bothers me on a few levels. For one, it imbues the focus, not the caster with the power, which is not how magic works (at least in the sense of portraying gritty urban fantasy), and for two, it's very much against character. Let me give you an example: In the two part story Newcastle Calling, at the end of it, John hands a dying man a twig, telling him it's the finger bone of St. Cavartigan and that it's known to bring relief to those in need. He tells him to squeeze it tightly and focus on the pain going away. Near the end of the scene, the young man tells John that it's working. A couple things can be taken away from this scene: John's will was that the dying man would believe as he was told and his instructions were rote ritual. By contrast, in the series, John would probably had actually given him a Saint's fingerbone. You see the comparison takes the power of the scene away, as well as the mystery. Is the power of John's suggestion so strong that he could make the guy believe by holding that twig his pain would do away? Or was he so desperate to believe in order to not die in pain? You can interpret it either way. Hell, I could invent other interpretations, but going by what I believe would happen in the show, it can only be interpreted in the most literal sense. Now, to be honest, most television shows portray magic poorly. Even movies do a better job while keeping fantastical elements. The Craft, for all it’s 90s cheese, is a great example of this. So I suppose I could be blamed for getting my hopes up to be dashed because it’s just following the formula of 95% of all TV shows that feature a magical element or theme, but I mean...it’s not like Buffy or Charmed that was working without a script, so to speak. The TV series had a ready made blueprint and still chose to take the mumbo-jumbo bullshit route. Now, I have a lot of theories on the why for this, but that’s another post altogether and this has already gone on for way too long and I still have more to say.

Now, I guess I should, at least briefly, touch on the elephant in the room: Matt Ryan as John. What did I think? Because a lot of people have told me that he’s the shining beacon of this show, even literally admitting that yeah, it’s a poor representation of Hellblazer but that Matt Ryan man, he’s great! The problem that I have is that it’s not a good a show, and so no, I don’t like him in the role. I’m not going to compare him to Keanu because that’s not fair for a number of reasons, and maybe I’m a little biased because I adore Keanu (there’s also that can of worms I mentioned earlier, which is honestly yet another separate post lol). The way John’s written for this show, he’s positively insufferable. He’s not charming at all, which is find the most offensive, because one thing that can be said across all series and iterations of the character is that John is magnetic even despite xyz (he’s dangerous, he can be an asshole, he’s unreliable, etc.). Here he’s just a know-it-all, condescending prick. Now I do think with better writing, in a better representation of John’s character and Hellblazer in general (and maybe with a voice coach or director to discourage that Welshy intonation because yeah, his accent does irritate the shit out of me, but I’ve been very vocal about that before and honestly, at this point, I’ve come to realize that Ryan’s vowels are the least of this show’s problem), I think he has potential to be a fine John. As it stands in the media he’s portrayed John in so far (idk, maybe he was good on Arrow, but I’m talking the TV Series here and the JLD animation, which I’ve admittedly not seen, but I hated the comic so I’m not real likely to give that a chance considering my disposition toward the source material), I’m not entirely sold on him. Like if they tried another TV series for Hellblazer and didn’t cast him in the role, I wouldn’t be upset over it. 

I do agree that it probably could have been better on another channel, but here’s the rub, all the blood and gore and sex and loose censorship in the world could not save that show without better writing and direction. It could have been a fine show even on network if it had been crafted with some degree of caring. Let me give you an example off the top of head, namely the handling of the Newcastle incident. It was laid out pretty plainly within a few episodes. Alterations from canon aside, it doesn’t portray the horror of it at all and is one of the show’s many missed opportunities to really play up the scarier, more mysterious elements of John’s backstory. For example, instead of laying it out in a sloppy flashback with a laughable puppet, picture this scene instead: ​John is having a chat with someone, maybe Zed or Chas or some b-plot character. Something reminds him of the Newcastle incident and he gets a far off look in his eyes. The folly drops away to an eerie silence as the camera comes in tight on John's expression. Filling up the silence is a little girl's scream, then the voices of his friends, perhaps some sounds of violence, an inhuman sound or voice, it all blends together to become a hellish cacophony of sound as John's expression becomes more strained. Then suddenly the other person calling his name snaps him out of his reverie. The screams stop, the folly returns, and the scene appears jarringly normal. John shakes his head, makes a joke, and they move on. Yeah, that kind of scene has been done before, but the reason for that is it’s effective without giving away the whole story. It shows that this is a man haunted by something horrible. It’s also cheap and doesn’t necessitate straining the no doubt thin budget of a TV show that has yet to prove itself worthy of having more money thrown at it. 

Honestly, the issues I have with this show are innumerable and I’m just scratching the surface here and laying out my biggest problems. I could nitpick for days, and that’s the reason I’ve stayed mum about my opinions. There are people that follow me and that I write with that really like and care about the show, and I don’t want to make them feel...you know, bad about it or that they can’t talk to me or whatever. You know, if they found it enjoyable more power to them. I just didn’t and that’s maybe on me. By no means am I trying to bash the show here (because lord if I wanted to, I could), but to offer up what was requested, and that’s my undiluted opinions and feelings about the series. Of course I’m sorry that I couldn’t share the joy and that I couldn’t even like it on a similar level that I do the film (as a very solid AU, which people have tried to sell the show as to me, knowing my previous understanding of some of the changes made that deviate strongly from canon. As I said, maybe if it had been better made and written, I could, but as it stands currently, I can’t and unless real changes are made in the future, I’m unlikely to alter my opinion of it).

So yeah that’s it. Apologies that this got so very long, but as you can tell, there’s been a lot that I’ve been holding back.

[no-white-knights-blog]

Halo - An Etrian Odyssey Novel (Chapter 46/50)

"Okay, monster man, what do we do?" Naylin asked from where he was crouched down behind a bush with Flandr and Sage beside him, peering over the top of the brush at the Labyrinth boss wreaking havoc in the clearing, tearing into the corpses of the explorers Aerlorn had killed just moments before.

"It reacted to the smell of death from those people," Flandr explained, holding tightly to his axe and wincing as the beast tore the alchemist in half, blood spraying over the grass and Sage making a noise as he turned away, hands over his mouth and eyes pinched closed, "For now it's distracted, but... it knows we're here, so when it's done... eating, it'll probably turn on us."

"So we'll have to attack while it's distracted then," Naylin noted, nodded his head, "We'll have to send that message to the others, but yelling across the clearing probably isn't a smart idea, so... what should we do?"

"Aim long range attacks," Sage said weakly, pulling his bow into his hands and reaching for his quiver, sifting through the arrows, "Chimaera are weak to ice based attacks, so we'll have to take advantage of that. If I can get that information to Nirim and Arcan, they can fight with ice elementals, they'll have a better chance than us."

"If you can get that ronin to use an ice elemental I can hit up after him," Flandr revealed, holding his axe up with both hands and glaring over the brush towards the Chimaera, "I could probably double the damage if both of them hit simultaneously, but I need to get over there with them so we can collaborate."

"I think I can help along as well," Naylin said, staring down at the grass near his knees, "If I can reach Lesai, we can combine our abilities," he looked over his shoulder towards the Chimaera, "I should be able to use Cursecut against that thing, giving you three enough time to combine your elemental attacks."

"Nay you've never been able to successfully pull that off," Sage was the one to argue, "I don't think-."

"Don't worry about me," Naylin grinned at Sage, reaching over to ruffle the top of his hair, "I've gotten stronger since the last time I tried this."

"Last time you fainted," Flandr deadpanned with a blank expression, "You didn't even finish the spell, you just fainted."

"Maybe shut up," Naylin decided, sticking his tongue out at the landsknecht, then turned to Sage, "I'll take Seara and get over to where the injured are, Lesai is still sitting with Eliath, you dodge that monster and get to where Halo is trying not to get eaten."

"Not a monster," Flandr mumbled under his breath, and Naylin rolled his eyes, grabbing Sage's hand and yanking him to his feet, pulling him one way while Flandr jumped over the bush and darted across the clearing.

His axe was clenched in his right hand, shield held up with his left as he kept his attention on the Chimaera's back, inching around him and keeping the barrier of steel and iron raised until he'd managed to get around the boss without being noticed, then hurried over to the trees where Halo were hiding.

It was a little frustrating to see that even Aerlorn was with them, though his arms were bound to his sides with rope, and he had this dizzy look on his face, like he couldn't comprehend what was happening. Served the bastard right; honestly Flandr had half a mind to use him as bait, but that would be so screwed up. He just shook his head and turned his attention to the five members of Halo currently hiding behind the trees.

"Nice of you to join us," Iliad greeted, peering around the trunk of the tree.

"Where's Sage?" Dyria demanded, and Flandr held his hand up to calm the protector down.

"He's with Naylin making their way over to Eliath and the others. Listen, I think we can beat this thing, but we have to move now, while it's still distracted."

"Great," Arcan breathed, "What's the plan?"

"We need to use ice based elemental attacks on it," Flandr explained, glancing over towards the other end of the clearing and relaxing when he noticed Sage and Naylin were with Lesai, "Dark hunter-."

"Zed," Zedimir corrected, and Flandr gave him a weird look before continuing.

"Zed. Use shackles to bind the Chimaera's legs, and gag to bind its head."

"At the same time?" Zed asked, a slight tone of skepticism lacing his words, and Flandr just sighed, turning to Arcan.

"You and your ronin-."

"Okay, you've met us before," Iliad interrupted, stepping in front of Arcan, "Do you seriously not remember our names?"

"Sorry, I've been busy, I haven't had time to memorize them all," Flandr said stiffly, "Arcan; happy now? You and Nirim move with me, use hyosetsu and your ice rounds simultaneously, I can boost the damage using freezer, but we have to wait for Lesai and Naylin to make their move first. They're going to weaken the Chimaera with a combined attack."

"How does that work?" Arcan asked, and Flandr rubbed his temple.

"I don't have time to explain it, just trust me, please."

"What about me?" Iliad asked, "And Dyria?"

"There's not much you two can do in terms of elemental attacks," Flandr said, "It's good you can fight long distance at least. Get in a good position and start shooting your highest-level arrow attacks into the Chimaera's eyes to blind it. Dyria," he turned to the protector, noting the unsteady look in his eyes before huffing out through his nose, "Get to Seara and your medic and protect the injured."

Dyria didn't even wait before walking past Flandr, who turned to watch him go, trying to ignore the lump of jealousy in his throat and swallowing it when he turned back to Arcan's next question.

"What do we do with him?"

They all looked down at Aerlorn before the landsknecht turned, "Leave him. He's no threat right now. Just get in position and wait for the signal that Naylin and Lesai are ready."

All Dyria needed was to know where Sage was and he was off, reaching his survivalist in a matter of moments and standing between him and the Chimaera, who so far seemed perfectly happy chewing on the head of a dead gunner. None of the gore affected Dyria, he realized rather dully. He'd seen things like this before; hell, he'd killed like that before. Now was no different.

"Dyria," Sage pushed himself against the protector's chest as Naylin stood up from where he'd been kneeling beside Eliath, who looked paler than he had been before, eyes closed.

"He's out cold," Naylin stated to no one in particular, "Good, he won't yell at me for doing this then," he spun his staff around with his fingers and looked down at Lesai, "Ready?"

The hexer nodded, not moving an inch from where he was kneeling back on his heels, Eliath lying with his head pillowed in Lesai's lap, Emery standing behind him with Vien at his side, lute in hand and a look of determination in his eyes as Shiva stayed sitting, knees to his chest, though he was holding the ocarina as if he too wanted to help, Na'axri sitting beside him and nuzzling his nose into the troubadour's black hair to somehow comfort him.

"Seara, get to a perch and start shooting off towards the Chimaera's face," Naylin pointed, and Sage nodded before pulling away from Dyria, who reluctantly let him go as Emery stepped up beside him, "Everyone else stay back."

Sage could see Iliad perched up in another tree across the clearing, and notched an arrow as Halo's dark hunter crept out from around one of the trees, eyes flashing towards Naylin, who waved a hand down at Lesai. The hexer's lips moved without a vocal sound, and the Chimaera started to react, dropping the half-eaten corpse he'd been enjoying and throwing his head back with a roar.

Naylin and Zedimir darted out simultaneously, and time seemed to slow as the dark hunter enacted gag to bind the Labyrinth bosses head, then shackles on its legs, tripping it up just enough for Naylin to get a good aim on what he wanted to do. Truthfully, he really had never cast Cursecut successfully before. He wasn't on the right level to carry it out flawlessly, the power and energy he used drained out of him, so after this he was probably going to be as useful as a blade of grass, but hey, he didn't really care.

He may deplete so much of his energy that it would kill him, but he would have atoned for being incapable of protecting his guild, protecting Flandr from getting cursed, and Sage from losing his memories, and Eliath from slipping into a three-god-damn-month coma. He was supposed to get stronger, so he could stand near his hero on equal ground, but he couldn't do that yet, not until the guilt in his heart was gone. Not until he proved himself.

"Cursecut!"

Naylin didn't see the effect of his attack himself, because the wave of energy that left him sent him flying back, like he'd just pulled the trigger on a bazooka and got the literal worst backlash from it. The power he used hit the Chimaera, but it hit him with the same force, and he was staggering on his feet with blurry vision as the Labyrinth boss screeched, swiping at him and batting him away from the clearing, through the trees.

No one had any time to react to their war magus just disappearing like that, though Sage did feel himself scream, because in the next instant their last attempted wave attacked. Vien's finger picked out a song on his lute to aid his guild members, and behind him he could hear soft music, turning and glancing over his shoulder to see Shiva had his eyes closed, the ocarina clutched in both hands and at his lips.

"What's he doing?" Emery asked, and Vien grinned.

"Playing Frost," he answered, looking back over at the battle, "I think I know who he's helping, too."

The final attack was buried behind a cloud of mist, caused by the chill of their combined attack hitting the steaming body of the Chimaera. Flandr, Nirim, and Arcan all moved away from the cloud, arms raised and coughing as they positioned themselves a safe distance away. Iliad jumped out of the tree he'd been perched in and grabbed the back of Zed's shirt to physically drag him over to the rest of the group, and Emery grabbed the dark hunter by his arm when he was close enough to check him for injuries while the rest watched and waited with bated breath.

"Did... did we do it?" Arcan asked, and Flandr shook his head slowly as the cloud of mist started to fade.

They all seemed to curse when the Chimaera moved, and Arcan reloaded his gun as Nirim tightened his grip on his katana, "We'll have to go again," he stated, and Flandr rubbed a hand over his face and into his hair.

"No, the damage we dealt it should be enough to have weakened it substantially, maybe it'll just drag itself back to its cave."

"Oh really?" Iliad asked, "Of course, because luck like that exists."

"You have a serious attitude problem," Flandr revealed, and Iliad snarled.

It turned into a slight frown when Dyria put a hand on his shoulder, the protector stepping between his brother and the landsknecht, "I'll finish it off," he decided, and Flandr quickly stepped in front of him.

"No! It's already been defeated, there's no reason to kill it!"

"It could try and attack us," Dyria argued, "Wounded animals are the most dangerous."

"Guys, please," Sage sighed as he jumped out of the tree he'd been in and walked up to the protector, "This isn't the right time to be fighting over something like this."

"I'm not going to let that monster recover only to attack my guild," Dyria stated simply, holding his arm in front of Sage and pushing the survivalist behind him protectively.

Flandr simply bristled at his actions, snarling, "It's not a monster, it's a creature of the Labyrinth, a living creature. It hasn't done anything wrong, it was reacting to death that had already taken place! Are you really going to condone more of that death?"

"To protect my guild? Yes."

"Who here is the real monster then?" Flandr hissed, and Dyria tensed up as Sage slipped around him, a hand on his chest.

"Enough! What's wrong with you?! This is not the time to be fight-!" he stopped, frowning, and the two explorers he was standing between followed his bewildered gaze to where Lesai had laid Eliath's head carefully onto the ground before standing up, gliding past the arguing group and towards the Chimaera.

"Wait, Lesai," Flandr started forward, but Sage grabbed his sleeve to stop him.

"No, hold on," he said, watching the hexer as he approached the Labyrinth boss.

The Chimaera was lying on the ground, snarling and scrabbling at the earth with its claws, blood on its teeth and the fur at the corners of its mouth, and when its wild eyes noticed Lesai it snapped its jaws at the hexer, who merely sidestepped before setting a hand against the massive creature's forehead.

His eyes shut, and the previously malicious energy that had consumed the area started to fade as the Labyrinth boss stopped struggling, furious eyes going soft before Lesai pulled his hand away and took a few steps back, watching the Chimaera struggle to its shaky feet and shuffle off towards where it had come from.

For the longest time it was silent besides the occasional rumble of the large monster lumbering away, followed by Flandr's bewildered whisper, "How did... he do that?"

"Lapis Galəksē," a manic voice breathed out wildly, and the group spun to see Aerlorn had somehow freed himself from the rope binding him, and was watching Lesai with a manic glaze in his eyes, a toothy grin on his lips, "Finally," Lesai didn't move when Aerlorn started towards him, just stood there watching as the other hexer laughed, "I've been looking for it, for so long. My family died because of that stone!"

Lesai's eyes widened a fraction. Perhaps this crazy man had been one of the hexers who'd lived in that village? That... was so sad. It was no wonder he wanted to be remembered, because everyone had forgotten about the Lapis stone, and the village of hexers and dark hunters who had protected it. Lesai's home. Aerlorn's home perhaps. He even theorized that Zedimir was born of dark hunters descended from that village. That would explain why he lived so near the cursed grotto.

"Show it to me!" Aerlorn screamed, and Lesai's hands twitched at his sides before he reached up to push his hair back, feeling his breath hitch at the wild light in the other hexer's eyes, the frown that took to his lips as he reached Lesai and grabbed handfuls of his robes, sinking to his knees and gaping up at Lesai with this demented look on his white face, "Give it to me."

Lesai shook his head, pulling his hand away from his head to let his bangs fall back into place, "No. You don't understand it. This stone isn't limitless, and it isn't all powerful. It's a curse that should never be used. That's why my uncle...," he trailed off, pressing his lips together, "I would not wish this hell on even my worst enemy."

"If you won't give it to me," Aerlorn whispered, "Then I'll tear it out of you!"

He jumped to his feet and Lesai staggered back as the other hexer lunged forward, lurching as his face contorted in pain and his mouth fell open, the smallest amount of blood sliding from one corner of his lips. Lesai dared to look down at the green accented sword blade pierced through Aerlorn's chest, slowly, sadistically being pushed forward, deeper into the hexer, nearly touching Lesai's throat when it was down to the hilt, before it started to draw back.

When Aerlorn fell, Lesai lifted his eyes to Dyria, who was cleaning his sword off on his pants before sheathing it and looking at the hexer, "If you got hurt, Eliath would never trust me with Sage."

Was that his explanation?

"That was...," Arcan trailed off, his face pale, and Iliad turned, slipping his bow over his head.

"Can we go home now?"

Na'axri barked at him, and Flandr snapped out of his trance, meeting Sage's panicked eyes, as if their beast companion had reminded them someone was missing, "Naylin!"

[writing-the-end]

Exodus- Part 3

Previous Chapter

An Edolas Hermit story (AU belongs to @theguardiansofredland )

Alone and beyond the walls of the city, Impulse is on the run. Trying to find safety from the faces that haunt him, and how they always seem to know where he is. 

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

Part three for everyone to enjoy! I know this isn’t how redstone works, but I’m taking creative liberty here. Chemistry class coming in handy, I guess? 

Warning: this story contains general dark elements and language. Burn wounds also present in this chapter. 

__________________________________-

Impulse doesn’t realize he’s fallen asleep until a bright light wakes him up. Beside his head, the old brass clock continues to tick away. A steady, calming pace against the silent forest. He blinks the sleep from his eyes, waiting for them to gain vision and correct from the unintentional sleep. He didn’t mean to sleep. He didn’t want to stop running, but he honestly doesn’t remember how he fell asleep. 

The first thing Impulse does is open his mouth to wish Zed and Tango good morning. But he remembers that they aren’t here. They aren’t with him. They’re back in Hermitland, trapped. And he’s out here, on the run. All that time digging that tunnel digging freedom for all of them, and in a single strike Tango brought it all down. Impulse wants to be furious at him for doing that. Making the decision for him, forcing him to continue without them. But every time he thinks of Zed and Tango, he only feels loss. He just wants to see them again. 

He looks around, black eyes against the white birch trees staring back at him. Watching him. Even when the bright light shines in their eyes, they never stop staring. Impulse startles nearly out of his skin at the sound of a loud door slamming shut. Impulse tries to stand, but falls back to his knees. He can’t seem to gain control of his muscles, at least not in his legs. 

When he turns over, he sees he wasn’t really asleep. A bright green dart is sticking out of his legs, the vial empty of it’s contents. He was drugged. Impulse grabs the dart, yanking it free from his skin and trousers. His breath catches in his throat as he hears voices whispering through the trees. He can’t see where they’re coming from, but he knows the voices well enough.

“Doc said he got a hit on him. According to my system, he should be right nearby. Give or take a couple yards or so.” A warm sensation pulsates from Impulse’s arm as he hears Cub speak. Cub’s calm voice slithers through the infinite eyes of the forest, watching Impulse as if they’re speaking about him. As if they are Cub’s eyes. 

Maybe they are. How else would Cub know where he is? Surely Cub would know how to do something like that, set up cameras within the forest. That must be it, the trees are watching him. They have to be. He has to run, he needs to put more distance between himself and the city. He stumbles and crawls, trying to regain a sense of control over his legs. 

“Don’t overwork your tech, Cub. He has to come out of the woodwork at some point.” Xisuma’s voice is unhindered by his mask, and through the leaves Impulse can see the general’s face. He hasn’t seen those eyes, the scars and long ponytail since the gallows. The only time he saw any hint of Xisuma’s resolve slip away, the mention of a brother Impulse never knew the leader even had. But none of that is in his voice now. It’s sharp, like the point of a compass’s needle. Searching for it’s target. 

Searching for Impulse. He manages to get feeling in his toes again, and wastes no time laying on the ground any longer. He doesn’t care if Xisuma or Cub sees him- he takes off running. Dodging and weaving around the birch forest, trying to escape the eyes that follow him in his escape. He hears the two behind him, but he doesn’t dare look back. He has to be faster. 

No. He has to be smarter. That’s what got Impulse into this predicament in the first place, isn’t it? He needs to use his brain one more time, to figure out how to get himself out of this. He can feel the shadow of Hermitland still following him, overshadowing him. The eyes in the sky still watching him. He needs to get underground, where he can’t be seen. 

The next cave that Impulse spots is hardly even a cave, rather just a hole in the dirt beneath a massive birch tree. But it’s dark, and none of the trees’ eyes can see him from within. Impulse wriggles himself in, the roots and rocks ripping at his clothes. He keeps his clock close to his heart, both ticking on and on- one much faster than the other. His shoe gets caught, trapped in the roots as voices grow closer. He yanks and pulls, but the tree has him captured. Can Cub control trees as well? 

Impulse bites back a cry as he wrenches free his foot, the bark and wood cutting into his skin and mangling the mismatched workboot. He lost the other when he was hanged, kicking around for purchase- Zed was kind enough to notice, and find him another one. Despite the pain racking across his body, from his foot to the warm sensation in his arm, right under his tattoo, he keeps silent. 

The footsteps grow closer, staggered by conversation between Xisuma and Cub. The steps stop, but Xisuma’s voice only grows louder. “You can’t run forever, kid. We know where you are. Even if we can’t see you, we know where you are. We always know.” 

The tingling, warm sensation in Impulse’s arm seems to grow, his skin crawling along his tattoo. A silent gasp escapes from his lips, before being clapped shut by one hand. The other presses down on the ID tag, and Impulse closes his eyes to try and ignore the rising fear and pain. The way his skin crawls- at the pain in his arm, or the charismatic voice just above him? 

Impulse turns his arm, looking to see what’s causing the burning, tingling sensation on it. Did he cut himself? Was he hit? He struggles to see in the small hovel, but he can just make out the black markings along his skin. 

Except they’re red. No, that’s not right. He knows that his ID tattoo is black He’s had it since he was a child, he’s looked at it every single day. He’s looked at others, every. Single. Day. Tango, Zed, everyone had a black tattoo. But his is definitely red- not blood red, like the skin has grown angry or he cut himself. It’s a brighter shade. It reminds him of…

Redstone. It all clicks together now. It’s not the trees that are guiding Xisuma and Cub to Impulse. 

It’s himself. The ink must be redstone infused, more of Cub’s brilliant inventions put to bad use. No matter how far Impulse runs, no matter where he hides, they will know where he is. They always knew where he was, there is no escape from Hermitland so long as his ID tattoo continues to locate his position. 

Which means he’s only trapped himself in this hole. Impulse crawls in the tight space, looking to see if he could dig through. Like he did to escape the city. But he’s met by stone, too strong to break on his own. Impulse listens above him, holding his breath and keeping a keen ear. Xisuma and Cub walk around, trying to pinpoint where he is. 

As their footsteps start to get quieter, more distant, Impulse charges. Through the roots, snapping them in his mad dash to freedom. He stumbles, but doesn’t stop. He doesn’t stop when he hears Cub and Xisuma exclaim behind him. He doesn’t stop when he hears something clicking, or an arrow whiz past his head. Impulse nearly knocks himself out as he runs into the white bark of a birch tree, careening off it and continuing to run. He can feel his legs aching, tired of running. How long has he been chased? He can’t remember any more.

Lucky for Impulse, he’s faster than Cub and X. Young legs and a limber body, day in and day out of hard work on redstone lines and machinery. He doesn’t stop running until he can no longer hear or see the leaders of the city. Even then, he puts more distance between them and himself. Just for good measure. 

He wants to pass out as he stops. Just to curl up against the bone white birch trees, and let their eyes gaze upon him as he sleeps. At least he knows it’s not the trees that watch for Cub. But that’s something he needs to do before he can even think of resting. He needs to stop from being tracked. 

Impulse sits down, legs throbbing and ankle covered in dried blood and splinters. He turns his arm over, running a finger over the letters and numbers that mark his skin. It’s still warm, the color of activated redstone. They’re still tracking him. 

“Come on, Impulse. You know redstone. How can you get rid of this?” He whispers, looking from his tattoo to the clock still firmly in his grasp. He’s never letting it leave his side. The sun on the clock is rising, firey rays emanating across the light blue sky. 

Fire. Redstone can’t handle high temperatures- it causes the dust to denature, unable to carry the current. Rendering the dust useless. He always had to be careful where he laid redstone lines, making sure they weren’t near hot water pipes or somewhere fire could reach them. Impulse gulps, breathing hitching as he realizes what he’s going to have to do. It’s not going to be pretty. 

And he’s going to have to do it fast. Impulse gathers wood, setting twigs and dry grass into a pile. He digs through his bag, feeling his fingers alight on a small pair of flint and steel. He may be no survivalist, but he does know a thing or two on how to make ends meet. How to make the most out of what little he has. Flint and steel is illegal contraband in the city- nothing that it does is anything Xisuma or his cohorts would want to happen. But it was a tool, made by Tango and his infinite knowledge of underground activities. 

Impulse’s hands shake as he strikes the flint once, twice. Sparks cascade to the grass, burning and lighting the small fire. He feeds the flames, hands shaking as the heat grows. Once it’s burning bright, almost to the point that it’s out of control, Impulse places a flat rock deep into the coals, only a thin end sticking out for him to grab later. Now he needs his hands free, so he places his prized clock on the ground in front of him. He pulls off his white button up shirt, looking at the grass and dirt stains on it. He tugs on the sleeves, then again with more force. The threads snap, and he pulls apart the white shirt. The same white shirt that him and every other person in the city ever wore. It feels good to pull it apart. It feels like betrayal, ripping apart everything he’s ever known, everyone he’s ever loved. 

His hands shake as he pulls the stone loose from the fire, the smooth grey rock hot even on the end that wasn’t submerged in flame. Should Impulse really be doing this? Can’t there be a better way to ruin the ID tattoo’s tracking without hurting himself? He’s sure if he had more time, more resources, more minds to collaborate with, he’d have a better answer. But right now, this is the best he’s got. 

Impulse takes a few small breaths, in and out. Trying to build up the courage to do it. And, in one last deep gulp, he stops thinking and just does it. He presses the heated stone against his skin, crying out into the forest as the heat shocks and burns across his skin. Every nerve in his body screams for him to stop, but he doesn’t let go. Not until he’s sure the redstone has been denatured. He sees the ink of his tattoo fade to black as the skin around it turns a jaded red, and that’s when Impulse finally drops the stone. 

Right onto his clock. The sharp end of the heavy slate rock punctures through the dial of the worn brass face, before the stone collapses across the rest of the face. Impulse gasps, hand holding his arm as he grasps for the clock. Completely ignoring the burning pain as he tosses the rock aside, he gasps and groans with each movement of his arm, picking up the shattered clock face. 

He holds the broken clock close to his ear, silencing his gasping breath to try and listen for the telltale ticking of the gears, the clock slowly turning from day to night and back to day. But it’s silent, immobile. The brass has fractured, dented and broken where the edge of the rock punctured the face. The rest is dented, flattened and bent all out of sorts. Even if the stone didn’t fracture through the clock face, the dents would have ground the gears to a halt. 

It’s broken. The last thing his friends gave him, a little piece of himself back before fleeing, and he broke it. Impulse can’t tell if he’s crying from the pain in his arms or the pain in his heart. Zed and Tango risked being seen to retrieve this clock. They knew how important such a simple little clock was to him. When anyone else would have tossed away as trash, a stupid, poorly designed brass clock, they knew it was his most precious possession. They gave it to him, thinking of him. And he broke it. 

Impulse struggles to wrap the shreds of his shirt sleeve around his arm, protecting the burnt tattoo from further harm. He needs to keep moving. He can’t stop. He can’t afford to stop, not this far in. Not after everything. 

But his pace is slower, sprint falling to a jog, and tears streaking as he carries the broken clock close to his broken heart.