#she haunted her own house while still alive and then continued to cause problems for her bloodline for a hundred years. go off queen

[livvyofthelake]

female villains are not villains to me… they are like my sisters…..

[loominggaia]

NOTABLE MINERVAE

(Gold stars around their names signifies that they were part of Karenza’s “Chosen Ones”--aka: her most trusted confidants. In other words...the ones who know about her child.)

OVERVIEW

Minervae are a type of titan nymph. All minervae were once maenads, nymphs of spirit, but were transformed into their titan forms by Karenza, the Divine of Love. As titans, these nymphs grow in size, they become stronger and more intelligent, and the glowing crescent on their forehead opens into a full circle called an “eyespot” or “third eye”.

Through this third eye they can see things that most other peoples cannot, such as ghosts, auras, or even the future. Becoming a minervae grants these nymphs extraordinary powers, and it’s not a gift Karenza gives away frivolously. However, with great power comes great responsibility, and sometimes the burden is too much for even the strongest of minervae.

Though all minervae once served Karenza in exchange for her blessing, not all of them continue to serve her forever. Many go out into the world and use their new powers as they see fit, and not all of them continue to obey Karenza’s teachings.

There are only a few hundred minervae upon Looming Gaia. Some particularly notable ones are…

Destiny – As a maenad, she was known as Jubilee. Destiny was the first maenad Karenza ever transformed into a minervae. With her eyespot she can see into the future, and the future she witnesses is what shall be no matter what action is taken. She was one of the few Karenza chose to build the Trial of Titans. She later left Karenza’s company to become a researcher at the World Athenaeum, specializing in divinity and celestials.

Patience – As a maenad, she was known as Sweet Cheeks. Patience sought Karenza’s gift so that she could help the poor and unfortunate. Today she operates in one of Karenza’s many Houses of Love and Light, where she grows food for the hungry. She specializes in botanical magic.

Hope – As a maenad, she was known as Allura. Hope is a High Priestess of Love and Light. She oversees one of Karenza’s temples in the crime-riddled city of Taybiya, where she preaches Karenza’s teachings to all who will listen. While she preaches peace and love, she specializes in hazard magic—particularly pyromancy. She uses her fearsome fire spells to ward off hooligans.

Austerity – As a maenad, he was known as Dizzy. Austerity is the only male minervae on Looming Gaia. He was once a feminine maenad like any other, but asked Karenza to transform him into a masculine form as a minervae. His wish was granted, and along with his new form he gained a third eye that could see many possible futures. Today he spends half the year travelling between Houses of Love and Light all over the world, where he counsels the troubled. They can peer into his eyespot and see what their future holds if they continue on their current path, or learn what will happen if they take a different one. Austerity is also a master of transmutation magic, able to change others into any form they wish. When he is not traveling, he’s at home with his wife Prudence, another notable minervae.

Prudence – As a maenad, she was known as Melancholy. With her third eye, Prudence can see ghosts and other metaphysical beings that others cannot. She specializes in the art of necromancy and is believed to be the most masterful exorcist alive on Looming Gaia. If Prudence can’t dispel a spirit, then no one can. She is currently married to another notable minervae named Austerity. She spends half the year at home with her husband and the other half travelling around the world to clear haunted areas and dispel rogue undead.

Courage – As a maenad, she was known as Skipper. Courage can see into different dimensions with her third eye. She is a skilled teleportationist who can not only teleport across Looming Gaia, but into other these dimensions as well. She has an insatiable wanderlust and no fear of the unknown. She is credited for discovering many celestial dimensions, which have been recorded by the World Athenaeum’s research division.

Gratitude – As a maenad, she was known as Misery. Gratitude suffered much abuse and tragedy during her life as a maenad, so she wishes to use her powers as a minervae to make the world a gentler place. She is a talented witch who knows countless blessings and curses, and she bestows them upon anyone she feels is deserving of it. She may bless the meek or curse the malicious, but her intention is always to teach a lesson.

Honesty – As a maenad, she was known as Loud Mouth. As her name suggests, Honesty has no patience for lies and deceit. With her third eye she can see the truth, whether that means exposing someone’s lies or seeing their true form behind a disguise. She has made it her life’s mission to expose corrupt priests, politicians, and other powerful leaders. However, her efforts are not appreciated by everyone. The rich and powerful have launched many slanderous campaigns against her and have even tried to have her assassinated, yet Honesty still prevails. She specializes in telepathy, able to read the thoughts and emotions of others.

Justice – As a maenad, she was known as Vicious. Justice was among Karenza’s closest friends, and even served as her finest knight for centuries. She has since been promoted to Soldier of Love, and she has been sent out into the world to hunt down the wicked. Justice has removed her own eyes to blind herself, forcing herself to perceive the world with only her third eye. She cannot see what a person looks like, and so she cannot judge them based on her own prejudices. With her third eye, she can only see the quality of their hearts, and if she senses irredeemable wickedness, she swiftly disposes of them with one of many hazard spells in her arsenal. Fire, frost, wind, and electricity—Justice masterfully wields all of these elements and more. She’s a sworn enemy of Mercy, another notable minervae.

Charity “Asha” – As a maenad, she was known as Asha, which translates to “Beautiful Music” in Galsungi. Asha sought Karenza’s blessing because she wanted to use her great power to help the sick. With her third eye, she can see a body’s aura and identify problem areas, where there may be hidden wounds or lurking illness. She once healed plague victims and wounded soldiers, but after so many centuries of this thankless work she became depressed and burned out. She decided to abandon her lofty dreams and instead live a quiet, simple life as a private physician for Uekoro’s royal family, who she is still serving today. She decided to abandon her minervae name “Charity” and go back to “Asha” at this time. Asha can heal almost any ailment with her talents in curative magic.

Curiosity “Curie” – As a maenad, she was known as Joy. Joy was the last maenad Karenza ever transformed, and so she remains the youngest minervae on Looming Gaia. Shortly after becoming a minervae, Curie saw something with her third eye that struck dread into her heart. To this day no one knows exactly what she saw, for she immediately drove an iron spike into her eyespot to stop the vision, causing herself massive brain trauma in the process. Curie survived the incident and is still alive today, though she refuses to remove the spike from her head and becomes violent when others try to remove it for her. She has since fled Karenza’s company and is occasionally seen wandering the world in a wretched state, twitching and muttering gibberish to herself. Karenza is deeply ashamed of this tragedy and has since refused to create any more minervae, fearing another may meet the same fate. Some theorize that Curie had seen her own death or perhaps the end of the world, but no one really knows for sure.

Mercy – As a maenad, she was known as Cadence. Mercy has served Karenza for a very long time, but at some point the two had a falling out and Mercy left her company to serve Looming Gaia her own way. Unlike Karenza who believes the wicked are best destroyed, Mercy believes no one is beyond redemption and refuses to kill or harm anyone, no matter how evil they may be. With her third eye, she can see the good in even the most despicable of people. She takes a pacifist approach and tries to conquer hate with love and understanding rather than violence. While she does not succeed 100% of the time, she has still disbanded many hate groups, turned terrorists towards peace, and has even stopped wars with her gift of diplomacy. She constantly butts heads with Justice, another notable minervae.

 *

Questions?

Masterpost

*

[sweeethinny]

The Duke - Chapter 6

thank you very much for the reviews! really. writing this fanfic has been quite a challenge, but I just love writing a drama, and maybe it sometimes has a questionable quality, but I have fun. thanks for letting me know that you guys are having fun too! and thanks to my favorite beta @theroomofreq, and @deadwoodpecker for listen my crazy ideas 

AO3 | FF.NET | SIYE

| H. F |

‘‘The Dueling party?’’ His mother’s sweet but still loud voice rang out in Henry’s room, and her face contorted with joy and, it seemed, fear. '’This is something very big, don't you think? I mean… it's the dukes.’’ Arabella whispered the last part as if someone could hear them and take Henry off the guest list.

‘’I know.’’ He nodded, fidgeting with his hair nervously. ‘’But I need to go with Miss Weasley.’’ Her mother’s face contorted again, and even through the flames of the fireplace, he knew she was thinking that wasn’t a good idea. ''What's the problem?''

‘’There are none… really, I’m happy that one of us can at least step inside that castle.’’

''But…?''

‘’Henry, dear… It’s not our place. Who guarantees that Your Graces will treat you well? Especially when you're not going to be an employee of them, which they can send or dismiss, but you're an employee of Mr. Weasley. Entering through the front door.’’

‘’No need to worry, I’m always camouflaged among these people. I am at a safe distance from everyone, but I can still follow Miss. Weasley.’’ His mother sighed, and Henry wished he could hug her, try to calm her down.

‘’Well, Miss. Weasley could get married and get you out of this job, right? It’s so dangerous, son… You got hurt yesterday, and today you tell me that you were attacked.’’

‘‘We haven’t been attacked, Mom.’’ Henry looked at the small window beside him, night already falling like a gloom under the whole yard. ‘’I’m fine, she protected me.’’

''Poor girl ... How is she?'' He tried not to smile as he remembered how she yelled at him when he Apparated to their safe place, and how she made his heart ache when he realized that she was almost crying with only the idea of ​​him being attacked in front of her.

''Good. We're close to finding a suspect.'' He shrugged, not to say that he had followed Mr. Weasley across borders and that the two had visited Yeovil a third time (fourth time, if he considered the time that went alone).

The city was still an endless war field, cold as if the winter were endless, with horrible cloudy weather, and so charged with the magic of darkness that it drained all your happiness out, being very difficult even to be able to smile. They had struggled to enter without causing confusion - as they did the first time - and Henry could still taste the blood in his mouth when he had to kill a Death Eater.

The boy should not have even reached the age of 20.

‘’I hope they’ll arrest the person soon. I miss you, and I’m so worried that you die or get hurt.’’ Arabella tried to smile, but Henry can see there were tears in her eyes.

''I will be fine. I promise.’’ He smiled at her, wishing he could hug her again. He hadn't seen his mother in almost a year. It was too risky to visit her and be in danger of being followed. There were some people who had reason to want to get back at him.

''Send me news. Now, tell me what you’ll wear at the Dueling Party. ’’

‘’Work clothes, mom. My black robes, and at most, the Auror coat of arms. It’s the best way to camouflage myself.’’

‘’Why don’t you try something new? Maybe you might meet a woman ..’’

''Miss Arabella, it is a party of the high aristocracy, there are no women for me there.'' Henry laughed, not wanting to delve into the thought that the only woman he wanted, he could never take out for a dance. Even though he always saw her at the back of the room, alone, looking at all the other couples while she just looked madly melancholy.

Henry would never understand why no one asked her to dance, when he was ecstatic at the thought of having her in his arms for a few minutes.

‘’If you say so,’’ The woman shrugged, then yawned. ‘’I’ll let you rest… please take care. I’m thinking you are too thin.’’

‘’I’m still the same.’’ He laughed, waving at her. ''Bye. Love You.''

‘’I love you, too.’’ And then she was gone, the flames turning red again, making him hear the sound of the loneliness that night provided. The elves' feet walking down the hall, the wind whipping the trees rough, some crickets and frogs, and a few creaking branches.

Henry sighed, lying on his bed and looking at the ceiling, trying to forget that morning...

As soon as Henry apparated inside their security location - a house where only Ginny was Secret-Keeper - he was greeted by Ginny's scream echoing through the empty house;

‘’You could have died!’’ She threw herself at him, hitting his chest with closed fists. ‘’Died! In front of me and I couldn't have done a thing!’’ Henry grabbed her fists, making her stop. Feeling a little shocked by the reception, even a little dizzy from her explosion.

‘’But I didn’t die.’’ He reminded her as if to say that tomorrow day would still dawn. ‘’And it was the best thing to do.’’

''The best? How is it best to leave me behind while I can see you being murdered in front of me?!’’

Better me, than you.’’ Henry remained calm, even though her skin seemed to burn his with proximity. The brown eyes staring at him as if they were going to read his mind - and Henry thought she would.

‘’Don’t say that.’’ Her voice came out with a tone of hurt that he had never heard before, not even when he met her on a bad day. ''Never. I am not worth more than you. And I'm not saying that to you to say that 'bla-bla-bla of course it is, because you're here to take care of me'... You are my best friend Henry, and I don't know what would happen if that spell had hit you and I saw you die in front of me.''

Best friend... She, a daughter of a Viscount, who had been promised to a son of Duke, who was one of the most powerful witches he had ever met, considered him her best friend.

He, a poor man, son of a harlot who died for her Death Eater lover, abandoned in a dirty gutter, condemned to die... Best friend of a daughter of a Viscount.

Of course, if it were up to him, they would be much more than best friends. Henry would do much more than take a peek at Ginny's sweeping curves, and he would never let her sit at the back of a ball, alone and bored. No, Henry would dance with her, spin that red-haired woman, so alive that reminded him of fire, all over the hall, as he had seen some men doing with their wives.

Henry might even dare to ask for her hand in marriage ...

But that was only if he was someone else. Henry Figg, Ginny Weasley's bodyguard, needed to settle for Best Friend.

| G. W |

‘‘You don’t look good,’’ George said, moving the chess piece and waiting for Ron to counterattack.

‘’Shouldn’t Henry protect you? Why did you almost die?’’ Ron asked, without even looking at his sister, paying attention to the board as if it were the most important thing of the moment.

‘’What are you two doing here still? I thought that now that you had houses, and responsibilities, you would spend less time here.’’ She complained, irritated to the last hair. She overheard when her father argued with Henry about putting her in danger, even though he couldn't have predicted it. Besides, the image of him dying in front of her continued to haunt her like an endless nightmare. ''Wants to know? Don't answer me. I'm going to lie down.’’ Ginny turned her back on the brothers, stamping her feet against the floor and running up the stairs.

It had been so terrifying to see the green light almost hit Henry, and she hadn't even raised her wand before the spell came out and protected him, almost making her believe that she could do magic with her bare hands.

All day, after the attackin the morning, she was locked up at home, like a prisoner. She overheard Ron talking to his father about Miss Granger (and then with George), she continued to read the news in the paper about the Dueling Party - that her parents were seriously considering not taking her. Ginny almost cried when she tried to fly and was stopped by Henry, who seemed almost sadder than she was doing that.

Ginny didn't cry, however, but she was silent all day.

It was so disconcerting to read about what each lady was wearing at the last party, or who they had been dancing with, while she could barely fly out in her own backyard. It was almost torture when Fred arrived at their parents' house showing the new broom he had bought, and when she saw, as a prisoner, through the bedroom window the brothers taking turns to test the new broom.

She could have fought and tried to convince Henry to fly with her, or that she wouldn't go more than two meters, but Ginny was so tired of living like that - or, not living - that she just nodded and sat in the living room, reading another stupid romance book that would only serve to make her realize how… empty, her life was.

Ginny, before the attack, had the opportunity to have, what she likes to call, a near life; she managed to make some ‘’friends’’, and it seemed that little by little people forgot that she had been promised to the Dukes' son and all the drama. Until, someone threatened her in the middle of the park, and her first reaction was to blow up the greenhouse where her mother was.

She didn't remember that day very well, the only thing she could remember was that she felt someone enter her mind and make her feel a lot of pain, and then the next moment was when she woke up on the floor, surrounded by dead plants, glass, and dirt, being watched by so many wizards that it looked like a festival.

Everyone looked at her as if she were a monster, who had almost killed her mother and injured 10 other people who were around (including a child, who almost died).

''Doesn't she know how to control her magic?'' ''I heard she was possessed by You-Know-Who.'' ''She did it so she could finally make headlines.'' ''I heard it was a way that her father found, for them to call attention to her.'' ''That is the dark arts, I'm sure.'' ''I always knew she was crazy...''

Everyone suddenly had a history and had witnessed some crazy Ginny. Everyone was pointing a finger at her. Everyone never let her forget when she lost control over her magic as a child.

But a child does not do as much damage as she did.

And if it was only once... There was that other day, after all the confusion, when her mother took her to a party to try to make everyone forget, and a Marquis tried to kiss her in a dark library when they accidentally met.. She tossed him away, startled when she was grabbed by the arms and tried to be kissed by force.

Apparently, it was a lot of fun trying to make her lose control of her magic and take on that strength that seemed to rip through her chest.

He was badly hurt, but no more than Ginny, who was so embarrassed and scared that she didn't leave the house for weeks. She could barely get to the newspaper without shaking for fear that there would be more lies about her.

''She wants to draw attention.'' ''I'm sure she was the one who provoked him.'' ''I don't even know what he saw in her.'' ''Her father must have paid for them to meet… a man like that would never want to see himself next to a madwoman like her.''

Ginny had never had much freedom, but after the attack, it was as if she could never do anything that involved getting out of the grounds of their home. She couldn't even fly alone, a brother always needed to be together. Until Henry arrived.

Henry was the closest person she would call a friend. They talked, he never seemed to doubt that she would be able, and even in the moments when he needed to deny her requests - like flying alone - he seemed upset about doing it. It was as if he felt the pain with her, somehow.

If she had seen her one and only best friend die in front of her, because of her, Ginny didn't know what she would do.

‘‘It’s okay, Dootie, I can do it myself.’’ She waved to the Elf who was waiting in the room, ready to undo Ginny’s hair (even though she had just done a simple braid), and helped her put on her pajamas.

‘’Are you sure, Miss Weasley?’’ The little creature asked, head down.

‘‘Yes, thank you.’’ And then, after closing the door, Ginny observed her daily arrest.

The window was ajar, magically made to always seem closed when someone looked outside, and the wind blew into the room and caused the curtains to swing. Ginny wondered what Henry was doing, and maybe, if it wasn't so late and so inappropriate, she could go up to his room for them to talk. She always felt more alone at night.

He had been very kind to her - as always - during the day, even when he needed to leave to speak to the boss by Flu, he had promised her that it was not her fault.

Which was a lie, because it was obviously her fault. She, and damn fate, who decided that it was not enough to be promised to someone at birth, but the man needed to be kidnapped, leaving her the burden of carrying a hope that would not be fulfilled, alone.

She felt guilty when she thought of the boy's parents, who had lost a child, at the same time that she was irritated since no one thought she could do anything about it, and that as much as Godric's Hollow had hoped that the Dukes would give the city an heir and keep it under control and away from any dark activity, Ginny had little to do.

But still, people liked to talk about her, as if she had been the cause of the kidnapping.

Tired of a day that seemed endless, Ginny lay down on the bed, fiddling with her wand to make the room a little colder than it already was, and hiding under the covers, where it seemed to be the only safe place in the world. 

For a few moments, she let herself think about how handsome Henry was, and how she imagined that maybe, just maybe, he could look at her differently, and even forget about the social rules and just kiss her.

Unlike the Marquis, Ginny wanted Henry to kiss her.

Maybe he would undo her braid himself and compliment her hair... maybe Henry would compliment her like no one ever did. Ginny couldn't even think of what that would be like...

Ginny heard a noise in the corridor of her room, something like footsteps, and if it weren't for the fact that her parents slept upstairs, and that no more siblings lived there, that floor shouldn't make any noise except when she was the one walking. And she was lying down.

She grabbed her wand, her heart pounding against her chest, rising as quietly as she could, trying to assume who might be there so late.

The footsteps stopped just in front of her room, and when Ginny prepared to put into practice the many dueling lessons she had with Henry, the person knocked on the door;

‘’Ginny?’’ Her body froze behind the door, hearing the low voice seemed to echo down the empty hall.

‘’Henry?’’ Ginny didn’t let her guard down, knowing that everything could be a big trap. ‘’Where did we fly together for the first time?’’

‘’We never flew together.’’ She sighed, it was him. Opening the door slowly, afraid that the wood would creak and her mother would get up, Ginny just stuck her head out, a little ashamed that she was wearing pajamas so old and ugly.

The man also wore pajamas, but instead of being a faded pink nightgown, it was black sweatpants and a white tank top. A tank top that let Ginny see his arms precisely, tanned by the sun and so well defined that it made her squeeze her thighs and swallow. She knew that Henry was strong, but not that strong.

‘’Did something happen?’’ She asked, trying not to let him notice the lack of a bra or how transparent that fabric could be. Ginny was not the woman with the most striking curves, she knew that, the Marquis had made it a point to point out that she needed a lot of effort if she wanted to be as beautiful as the other women.

"I… I just came here to thank you for protecting me." He ran a hand through his messy hair, looking a little bewildered, without glasses, and his green eyes seemed to shine even in the little light that came through the hall window and the fireplace that Ginny kept burning.

‘It was instinct, I think.’’ She shrugged. ''Are you alright?''

‘’Yes.. yes.’’ Henry took a step forward, entering her room for the first time in 2 years. He had never passed the door. ‘’I came here just to thank you, and... and do this.’’ Then he kissed her.

It was completely different from the Marquis' kiss, and Ginny would never be able to explain why. But before she could understand why, her chest seemed to burn and tear, taking all the air out of her lungs, like squeezing a fruit until there is no more left liquid. Ginny thought she might be dying.

She opened her eyes and looked at the white ceiling above her, alone and lying on the bed, sweating as if she had run a marathon. When she tried to reach for the wand to make the room even colder, the wand seemed to spit out magic and snowflakes began to fall everywhere. She was getting out of control.

Desperate, Ginny applied all the tactics she knew to calm down, fearing that her room would be buried in the snow. The same tactics that Henry applied to himself in the room a few floors below, also feeling his chest burn and sweating, frightened by the dream and the snowflakes falling under his room.

[lhs3020b]

The Wooden Spaceships, by Bob Shaw

The Wooden Spaceships is the sequel to the first Land/Overland novel, The Ragged Astronauts. It's set about a generation after the ptertha-driven migration from Land; civilisation on Overland is at least stable now, if not entirely-comfortable. Unfortunately "comfortable" isn't what Toller Maraquine is looking for in his older years. Apaprently he hasn't learned any lessons about getting what you wished for, because bad news arrives on Overland in the form of an airship from Land! That's right, apparently there are survivors on Land, and they're not very happy with their neighbours.

My thoughts are under the cut...

TWS is a bit of an odd book. It's really two main stories, somewhat awkwardly joined together. There's the plot with the attempted invasion by the New Men - briefly, the children of people who proved to be unusually-resistant to pterthacosis, who apparently are either immune or are tolerant enough to the disease that they've managed to live to adulthood. The New Men, sadly, have learnt nothing from their parents' folly and may actually be worse people; their survival seems to have convinced them that they represent a sort of superman who are destined to rule the universe. I suppose a more-sympathetic interpretation might be that they're the products of a collectively-traumatised society, and are dealing with said trauma by projecting all their negative feelings onto imagined enemies on Overland. That said, regardless of interpretation, their actions are not sympathetic and King Rassamarden is clearly a psychotic nutjob.

Also, it's worth noting that they are the New _Men_. While presumably New Women must exist, we never see any. This was an interesting ellision given that TWS is generally a step up relative to TRA for gender stuff. TWS is still quite bad, don't get me wrong, but there has been some improvement. Berise is a plot-relevant female character who actually gets to do stuff, the Kolcorronian king's key adviser is actually his wife Queen Dasseene and there has been some progress on the social front. The Air Corps has been opened to female applicants and it's implied that society as a whole has got a bit more equal. (That said, let's not go too far with this - this is still a society where an aristocrat can have innocent people executed on a whim, as we see with the Sergeant Gnapperl subplot, so Overland has a long way to go before it could be described as a genuinely-civilised society. It may have got a bit more egalitarian one way, but it's still a monarchical despotism ruled by the threat and fear of absolute force.)

Toller, of course, ends up involving himself neck-deep in the war with the New Men. This has the effect of cratering his marriage to Gessalla. In what is genuinely a moment of awesome from her, she tells him that while she's glad he's still alive, she's had quite enough of spending every day wondering whether today is the day she's going to have to bury her idiot husband's corpse. It's stressful and unpleasant, she's lost quite enough in her life already (literally including her homeworld!) and if he can't settle down and sort himself out, then they're through.

Toller, of course, can't deal with this. His marriage thus collapses, and that leads us onto the second part of the novel.

Incidentally, before we get to that, allow me one small tangent. We're halfway through the trilogy, and Toller has entirely forgotten his previous wife. After she disappears halfway through TRA he just - forgets? un-persons? has selective amnesia? goes into denial? refuses to take any responsibility for his own actions? - her entire existence. Toller, you were MARRIED to this woman! Seriously, what a cad! We never find out anything about what happened to Fera at any point in the series. Even in the third novel when a return to Land happens and Shaw could have tied the plot-thread off, but we get nothing.

(Since we never find a body, I've decided to invoke headcanon. Like Toller's father, Fera was one of the rare people who are entirely-immune to pterthacosis. As such she actually survived the implosion of Ro-Atabri and the end of civilisation on Land. After some confusion she eventually moved into an abandoned princeling's palace and has been living out her days in comfortable luxury; she spends her time either walking by the river or reading books - a hobby she recently developed - and occasionally she has been known to take lunch with some of the more pro-social New Men, so she's not entirely without society either. She mostly keeps away from them, having made a reasonable judgement of their character, but that said the odd social do can be refreshing. All considered it's not the worst situation she could have ended up in, and she's certainly managed better than virtually everyone else in Kolcorron. When the Overland exiles' return to the planet happens in "The Fugitive Worlds", Fera - still alive, though an old woman by then - sees the balloons and discovers that she simply has nothing to say to the people who abandoned her to her fate 50 years earlier. As such she decides to avoid them during their visit. In the abstract she supposes that it's nice that society has survived over on Overland, but really, neo-Kolcorron's antics are just Not Her Problem Anymore, so why even bother?)

The second part of the novel concerns a group of Overlander colonists who have recently arrived in a remote area of the planet, newly-opened to settlement. (One oddity of the novel is that for a planet whose population still must be less than a quarter of a million, nonetheless people are spread quite widely across Overland.) The area they've arrived in is fertile, has a pleasant climate and even pre-existing houses, built then abandoned by the last group of prospective colonists. You see, unfortunately, it appears to be haunted.

Bartan Drumme, the semi-leader of the group, is mainly there because he's trying to court his would-be bride Sondeweere. Amusingly, Sondeweere has his number and is quite-blatantly stringing him along, mainly to annoy her domineering uncle. Bartan is of course entirely-blind to this - honestly, Land and Overlander men all seem to run at a permanent +10 to Oblivious - and the "romance" proceeds in exactly the dysfunctional manner that you might imagine. Unfortunately, what would have been an amusingly-cringy romantic dark comedy gets interrupted when the new arrivals in the Egg Basket region start falling ill. Bad dreams, disturbed moods, sleepwalking, full-on psychotic breakdowns - all is not well in the Egg Basket. It quickly becomes apparent that the region is being influenced by some sort of external force. The sensible people leave; the less sensible people cling on and meet with various misfortunes.

(If there is one moral to the Land/Overland trilogy, it seems to be "if you see any hints of trouble, pack your bags and leave NOW, because things will only get worse, and don't expect the government to do anything even minimally-useful".)

Anyway things go from bad to worse, the Egg Basket's mini-society essentially collapses, and then Sondeweere gets abducted by aliens.

Yes, you did read that right. A spaceship turns up and hoovers her up. In context it's not quite as random as it sounds, but it is still quite random.

Anyway this leads Bartan to a decision that he wants to retrieve her from Farland, the third planet in the Land/Overland system. He teams up with Toller, who is now deep into the rebound stage following the implosion of his marriage. Along with Berise and some other acquaintances of Toller's, they construct a spacecraft capable of travelling outside of Land/Overland's mutual atmosphere and set off for Farland. Technically they're under commission from the King; honestly, I got the sense that the King and Queen have simply had enough of Toller's antics, and see this as a convenient way of getting rid of him.

Then reality ensues and they almost die, because nobody on the ship knows anything like as much about either outer space or basic Newtonian physics as they think they do. In fact it turns out no-one has any grasp about continuous acceleration, and they've been running a continuous halvell/pikon thruster-burn for entire days (somehow without running out of fuel, either - apparently the specific impulse on the pikon/halvell reaction is something insanely high?). By the time Sondeweere becomes aware of the ship's situation, it's running at over 100,000 miles per hour and is barely days away from reenacting the Chixculuub meteor on Farland.

Oh yes, I almost forgot to mention - Sondeweere was abducted because her nervous system had become host to an alien parasite (the same one that was causing mass psychosis in the Egg Basket) and she now has superhuman intelligence and telepathic powers. And also, a far better grasp of modern physics than anyone aboard the titular wooden spaceship from Overland. Fortunately, Sondeweere is able to take charge of the situation and arranges something close-ish to a soft landing on Farland - the crew don't enjoy the experience, but they get to walk away from it, and that's about as good as it gets in aerospace incidents!

Anyway my review here is a bit forced, but that's because the last 40% of the novel also feels a bit forced. The pacing is off and the narrative makes some rapid jumps. Honestly TWS's problem is that it's actually not one novel but rather two separate novellas that have been welded together in a particularly-awkward manner. A lot of things aren't really followed up or tied off properly. The fact that Farland is inhabitable and also inhabited turns up quite late in the book and is dealt with in what I felt to be a bit of an unsatisfactory manner. I was also intrigued to find out that all three planets orbit within 42 million miles of their sun. Apparently the star must be some sort of K dwarf, I guess - no, in fact it may well even be a brighter M dwarf, because this is roughly the orbital radius of Mercury! This is odd because the sunlight is never described as being pink-ish. The only thing I can think of is that maybe nuclear fusion also behaves differently in Land/Overland-verse? Perhaps not only is Pi equal to 3 but perhaps smaller stars are hotter and brighter than they would be here? Or maybe everyone's so used to the pink sunlight that no-one thinks to remark on it at any point?

(Canonically they do fuse - in fact Sondeweere actually has a go at explaining nuclear fusion to Bartan and the others at one point, which was thoughtful of her, though sadly the Overlander males remain as obtuse as ever so the effort may have been wasted.)

Anyway overall, I think this book suffers from a bad case of "mid-trilogy syndrome". I'm glad that female characters are handled better here, and I was cheering for Gessalla when she told Toller to fuck off. The extra expansions to the universe were interesting, and it was also interesting to see the gradual consolidation of colonial life on Overland. Madcap as it was, the interplanetary voyage to Farland did have some "big-picture" excitement too. That said, however, the books minuses were continued dropped plot-threads from the previous novel, unevenness in pacing and perhaps also just having too many ideas in a small package.

[alarriefantasy]

                                 Halloween Fic Rec 2019

Demon

Trade Mistakes by ifancylou, Taayjaay

Words: 3k

Harry summons a crossroads demon without realizing that he'd be giving up his soul in exchange for the deal. He offers the demon something a little different instead.

Demons by CarlyLovesLarry

Words: 4k

or where Harry is a demon and Louis is a hunter, and Harry fuck Louis into oblivion  

Sealed With A Kiss by ty_madison

Words: 6k

Harry has been having dreams about a boy, every night since he turned sixteen and everytime he has opened his eyes in the past the boy has disappeared. But now he is awake, the boy is here and he has a deal to make with the innocent Harry.

Paper Planes by cathedralhearts

Words: 7k

Louis sold his soul to the Devil when he was sixteen, tear-stained and miserable, grief wracking his body as the doctors told him his mother had days to live. Lucifer prefers to go by the name Harry, wears Louis’ soul around his neck as a pendant, and spends the next five years following him around.

Shadow Holding Me Hostage by scribblewrite

Words: 26k

Harry's a demon, basically the king of hell and the source of all evil, and he needs an heir. Louis's a normal human, unsuspecting of what's in store for him.

The Devil's Angel by lilacsweaters_ivorylilies

Words: 86k

Ezekiel 28:13 - For Lucifer has been in Eden the garden of God; every precious stone was his covering, the sardius, topaz, and the diamond, the beryl, the onyx, and the jasper, the sapphire, the emerald, and the carbuncle, and gold: the workmanship of his tabrets and of his pipes was prepared in him in the day that he was created. 

Fantasy/Supernatural

got me losing every breath (i'm latching onto you) by kissingiscool

Words: 14k

(or an au where louis is a fairy with a fear of thunderstorms and a talent of knitting and harry is a vet with three cats and a lot of love.)

A Love So True You Don't Have To Be Afraid by homosociallyyours

Words: 14k

In a world long ago but not so far away, where true love is valued above all else, Louis and Harry have already found one another. Their lives are shaken by the arrival of Simon, whose heart is more than a bit shit, and who longs to sow unhappiness.

When Louis is changed into a dragon and Harry is the knight meant to vanquish him, it would appear that Simon has succeeded. But love wins, every time.

Waiting For Someone Who Needs Me by graceling_in_a_suit

Words: 17k

AU: Harry is a genie, and Louis doesn't think he needs anything.

The Prince Of Light by jacaranda_bloom

Words: 35k

Louis was found abandoned at a hospital at six months old and adopted by an older couple who raised him. Now twenty, he studies by night and by day works as a live-in au pair for a family with three little girls. One of the girls, Holly, swears there is a Garden Fairy coming and eating treats she leaves out in the cubby house each night.

When the family goes away for a two week holiday, Louis is secretly tasked with feeding the Fairy. While laying out the food one night he falls from the cubby house and is found by Harry. Harry is different and Louis is fascinated. But as Louis learns how different Harry really is, he discovers his own true home and a very surprising past he never knew.

Cue badgers, bananas and cookies, soulmates, a whole other world, and a future he’d never imagined.

like cabbages and kings by you_explode

Words: 60k

When Louis was a kid, he had a series of very vivid dreams about a place called Wonderland. There were rabbits wearing waistcoats and talking cats and ridiculous tea parties, and amidst all the absurdity, there was a boy. A boy with dimples, big green eyes and the sweetest soul Louis has ever known. Louis has always kept a place in his heart for that boy and for his funny dreamworld, and when he’s twenty-five and his life falls apart, it turns out Wonderland might not be so imaginary after all.

there's no fair in farewell by we_are_the_same

Words: 218k

When Harry and Louis, two Cupids who have been bringing people together for decades, are tasked with making Soulmates Liam and Zayn fall in love, it proves to be much harder than expected. But maybe, just maybe, that isn’t such a bad thing after all.

Ghost

The Haunting of Louis Tomlinson by HelloAmHere

Words: 31k

OR: Louis is a plucky Gothic Heroine, Harry is a Mournful Spirit, and Big Country Houses are full of mystery and suspense, as Big Country Houses ever are!

Close to Nowhere by angelichl

Words: 34k

Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.

you look so good in blue by patdkitten

Words: 20k

Or: Harry Styles hears about a perfect flat from his roommate Zayn's boyfriends and decides to sign the lease. The only problem is: the flat has a reputation for being haunted. It certainly doesn't help that Harry's cat is seeing things as soon as they move in...

The Case Of The (Definitely Not Haunted) Styles Mansion by BriaMaria

Words: 40k

Or the Nancy Drew AU where Marcel is a man of logic, Louis is a private detective who believes in ghosts, and the Styles Mansion is definitely, absolutely, positively *not* haunted.

Tied to Fate by littlelouishiccups

Words: 52k

After his estranged father’s death, Harry inherits a castle in England that has belonged to his family for generations and he knows nothing about. When he breaks up with his boyfriend, Harry decides England is the perfect place for a small vacation. He isn’t prepared to meet Louis Tomlinson, a ghost who once lived in the castle and has haunted it for over five hundred years. He’s even more unprepared to fall in love with him.

Through Eerie Chaos by MediaWhore

Words: 102k

The Ghost Hunter AU where Niall lives to prove ghosts are real, Zayn is a skeptical librarian and Harry gets caught up in a century-old mystery and catches feeling in the process

Halloween Themed

Trick-or-Treat (Cheer Up) by writingstylinson 

Words: 2k

Louis Tomlinson is the single father of a little girl named Finnley, and they’ve been living in Holmes Chapel for a year. This Halloween is the first one they will be celebrating without Louis’ younger siblings or his own mother. It’s because of this that his daughter, who is usually outgoing and fearless, starts to have some worries about going trick-or-treating alone with her father.

Then Louis comes up with the perfect solution.

This is Halloween, everybody make a scene by allwaswell16

Words: 2k

When Louis takes his son trick-or-treating in a stormtrooper costume, little does he know by the end of the night he will end up gaining a Luke Skywalker, a Chewbacca, and a Rey. He doesn't mind the additions, and if Rey's very hot dad wants to come along as well, he doesn't mind that too much either.

this kitten's got your tongue tied in knots by ballsdeepinjesus

Words: 3k

[it's halloween, harry is a kitten in a tree and louis is a (fake) firefighter.]

A gold and green Halloween by Tita

Words: 8k

Harry and Louis are strangers who, dressed as Drarry, compete on a Halloween couple's costume contest. It's exactly as much of a mess as it sounds.

Black Cats Steal Hearts, Not Souls by SLD24

Words: 9k

Harry finds a kitten in a pumpkin patch the day before Halloween but it turns out not to be a kitten at all.

Horror

All The Songs That You Sing In The Dark by pukeandcry

Words: 10k

What happened was that first people got sick.

What happened after that was that they died.

But the worst thing was what happened after that. After they died, they came back.

The Skeleton Key by photo41

Words: 18k

Harry Styles, a good-natured nurse living in Manchester, quits his job at a hospice to work for Violet Winston, an elderly woman whose husband, Ben, is in poor health following a stroke.

When Harry begins to explore the couple's rundown mansion, he discovers strange artifacts and learns the house has a mysterious past. As he continues to investigate, he realizes that Violet is keeping a sinister secret about the cause of Ben's illness- and tries to convince the Winston's estate lawyer, Louis Tomlinson, that he really isn't going insane.

Loosely based off the movie of the same name.

Insane by prideinlou

Words: 20k

Or in which Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles are two dim-witted, drunk teenage boys that take a Halloween night dare too far, and end up in a life or death situation in the clutches of a haunted mental asylum.

Will they make it out alive... or will they go insane?

Mermaid

seaside improvisation by tinyweirdloves

Words: 6k

[harry is a mermaid who has lost his tail and he lives in louis's bathtub for a month.]

at least as deep as the pacific ocean (i wanna be yours) by writtensoul 

Words: 9k

louis is the very entitled prince of the seven seas!! harry is a goofy sailor boy!!! a lot of hijinks ensue involving slippery mermaid tails and happy fun little sea creatures!!

Define Dancing by asphodelknox 

Words: 20k

Death has a way of making certain things crystal clear. After Jay’s death, Louis returns to the summer cottage he always considered home. Unbeknownst to him, he’s also returning to the merman who has been his best friend through everything and finds that maybe there’s a chance for more.

Don't Let the Tide Come and Take Me by kiwikero

Words: 28k

Or, the one where Louis decides to set a merman free and ends up finding his own freedom along the way.

Still Deep In Us by graceling_in_a_suit

Words: 41k

AU. The village Harry has called home his entire life sits on six shaky legs, held aloft from the ocean which claimed the entire world twenty years ago. Harry's just a grieving tinkerer trying to do his best, and Louis is a mermaid that ruins The Village's delicate balance of power (and perhaps, just maybe, wins the heart of a boy).

Pirates

Captain Harry Styles... And The Faerie by spaceboyharry

Words: 8k

“You have today been defeated. Remember this forever as the day you were bested by Captain Harry Styles.” Louis zoomed past, shouting “AND THE FAERIE!” I sighed, rolling my eyes. “And the bloody faerie.”

must be something in the water by hattalove

Words: 3k

They all remember, somewhere deep down, why they gave up everything they had for the Mermaid.

The last vestiges of kindness and bravery and everything that is good in the world are on board that ship. Louis’s heart is on it, moored by some nameless jetty.

In Your Black Heart (Is Where You'll Find Me) by graceling_in_a_suit

Words: 35k

Louis Tomlinson has been lying for five years. His crew sees him as a pirate, a Captain, and an alpha; only two of those are the truth. He was content to let the illusion go on forever, but an omega named Harry Styles just had to join his crew and get his warm-vanilla stink all over Louis' best laid plans.Or: the story of The Captain and The Carpenter.

Si Pudiera Volar by messofgorgeouschaos

Words: 68k

When Harry’s fiancé leaves him for his cousin, he looks the other way for the sake of his happiness. He’ll do anything to forget about him, including joining a monastery. It isn’t until his cousin’s former lover, a pirate, appears that he realizes everything is not as it appears, and an honest pirate might be the only person worthy of his heart.

Or, a fic loosely based on Corazon Salvaje.

Vampire

Call Me the End of Your World by captainsftlouis

Words: 3k

or, the vampire AU where Louis is addicted to vampire venom, and Harry is addicted to Louis.

Waiting On You: A Christmas Drabble by emma1234

Words: 5k

On their first Christmas Eve as a couple, Louis and Harry decide it would be a great idea to exchange one special gift with one another to mark a new tradition. Of course, things never go as smoothly as they planned.

I Wanna Do Bad Things With You by lesbianphrodite

Words: 7k

Harry goes to his favorite pub with the intention to drink and feel bad for himself after a terrible break-up. Instead, he ends up hitting it off with a handsome vampire.

Forever And Always by jacaranda_bloom 

Words: 25k

OR the one where Harry’s neighbour is a crotchety old witch who hates vampires, Niall is the unsuspecting human who ends up inhabiting Harry’s body, and Louis is the caseworker who is assigned to swap them back. How it ends up a love story is anyone’s guess.

we should open up (before it's all too much) by disgruntledkittenface

Words: 43k

Struggling with grieving and depression since his dad died, Harry has never felt so alone. It’s too much to cope with on his own, but he feels like a burden when he tries to open up with people.

Then he meets Louis.

For You I'd Bleed Myself Dry by amomentoflove

Words: 49k

Harry is cold. His bones ache. Every movement draws a whimper from his cracked lips. The stone underneath him is practically like ice. He’s numb, but can clearly feel the sharp pains on his neck every timeHe visits him. Below the icy cold, the achy bones, and the pain on his neck, Harry Styles is pissed. There’s a fire burning in his mind and the anger for the man who keeps him imprisoned is the fuel. He despises him, the man who feeds from him and is a daily reminder that Harry’s suffering won’t end. The man who keeps Harry so weak that he can barely move most days. Harry’s waiting for the day when his owner will go too far and finally kill him. Death must be better than this cold hell he is in.

It won’t happen, though. He has a way of keeping Harry’s heart beating. So for now, all Harry can do is wait for death to come.

He’s been waiting for years.

Witches

what's inside your imagination (is as real as anything else) by suspendrs

Words: 3k

Or, Harry's a witch who likes to pretend he's a human pretending he's a witch, and Louis's the human in a not-so-clever costume that keeps catching his eye.

A Kind Of Magic by mellagreens

Words: 12k

Louis feels the urge to tell Harry he's in love with him.

Spellbound by lovelarry10

Words: 22k

Louis’ a shifter. Harry’s a witch. The only problem is, they’re hiding those things from each other.Will they be able to keep their secrets hidden at the most spooky time of year?

Call It True by abrighteryellow

Words: 48k

With dreams of being a successful novelist, Harry’s been working so hard that he almost doesn’t notice the smoothie shop that just opened down the street. But he can’t miss the mysterious, irresistible boy who works there, nor the strange but entirely positive effect his drinks seem to have. Harry needs to know what’s going on and he wants to get close to Louis, though not necessarily in that order.

A Spell and A Spark by dinosaursmate

Words: 73k

Louis is a teenage witch, living and attending university among mortals. He has to keep his secret whilst studying on both his degree and his witch's licence. His friends don't suspect a thing, even as spell after spell goes awry.

Our Place By The Moon by PearlyDewdrops

Words: 108k/WIP

Or: a late 90's urban fantasy AU in which Louis wants to befriend the strange boy next door, Harry is just trying to keep his family together, and falling in love is most inconvenient for a witch that may have accidentally reignited a centuries old curseꟷone that kinda messes with that.

[femalechibiblogger]

My Top 10 Most Tragic Villains

1. Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader

Anakin Skywalker is one of the most important characters in the Star Wars franchise. In the first movie, Anakin is only mentioned and is described as being a skilled Jedi Knight, a good pilot, and was also a good friend. Even in the prequels and cartoons that came years later, Anakin is shown to be kind, caring, and determined to save those closest to him. However...no one would have expected a great Jedi and friend to become the most infamous villain in the series. Anakin’s darker feelings, such as anger and jealousy, made him vulnerable to the Dark Side of the Force. When he has visions of his pregnant wife, Padme, dying in childbirth, Anakin is determined to do anything that he can to stop his vision from coming true...including betraying his friends, killing children, and helping a Sith Lord conquer the galaxy. However, Padme still dies, and Anakin becomes the Sith Lord: Darth Vader. Anakin had lost everything...his friends, his wife, everyone...and now all he had left was Emperor Palpatine and the Empire. But for many years, Anakin was unaware that his children had survived: His son Luke, and his daughter Leia. In the end, Anakin chooses to save Luke from Palpatine, and dies knowing that his son never gave-up on him. 

Despite Darth Vader having been a villain, he is only a villain because he was deceived and tormented until he lost everything and everyone who loved and cared about him. For many years, Anakin was haunted by his past actions, and lived in great regret of what he had done. But in the end, we see that he still had some good left in him, as Palpatine could never destroy Anakin’s love for his children. 

2. Arthur Fleck/Joker (2019)

Arthur Fleck is the main character of the original DC Comics story in the movie, Joker. Arthur is shown to be a mentally ill man who suffers from uncontrollable laughter due to a brain injury, who lives with his delusional and emotionally disturbed mother. Arthur worked as a clown, but his dream was to become a comedian. However, Arthur had been mocked by many people in Gotham, which caused him to kill three men who were harassing both him and a woman on a train. Arthur’s actions cause an uproar consisting of people who are either poor, unemployed, mentally ill, or all of the above. As the story progresses, Arthur discovers from shocking truths about his life: His mother had lied about him being the illegitimate son of her former boss, billionaire Thomas Wayne... His mother was actually his adoptive mother, and that he allowed her boyfriend to abuse Arthur...abuse that had caused him his head injury which is the reason for his uncontrollable laughing. Tired of being lied to and ridiculed all his life, Arthur kills his mother, dresses up as a clown, and kills people on live television. Not only that, but the protests that Arthur had unintentionally caused resulted in the murder of Thomas and Martha Wayne, whose murders were witnessed by their son Bruce. 

This is one of the few stories that actually features Joker’s backstory. This movie is not based off of any comics, and is therefore an original story. While Joker is one of Batman’s most dangerous villains, this may be one of the greatest portrayals of his former self. Arthur Fleck had suffered his whole life, until he snapped and would become one of the Gotham’s greatest threats.

3. Simon Petrikov/Ice King

The Ice King was the main antagonist of the cartoon, Adventure Time. Throughout the series, Ice King would attempt to kidnap princesses, especially Princess Bubblegum, and would often fight the two main protagonists: Finn and Jake. However, Ice King’s past was unexpectedly revealed in the episode, Holly Jolly Secrets. At first the episode is comedic and shows videos of Ice King’s hilarity...but it all becomes serious and sad near the end. Ice King is revealed to have once been a human named ‘Simon Petrikov’, who specialized in mysterious, supernatural artifacts. Simon had a great career, and was madly in love with his fiance: Betty. But one day, Simon found a mysterious crown buried in ice and snow. When Simon put it on his head, it gave him visions that made him act insane without him even realizing it. This drove Betty away, and Simon began to slowly change physically, emotionally, and mentally. In the end, Simon was driven completely insane and lost all memories of his past. His obsession with princesses is because he used to call Betty his ‘princess’...though he did not remember calling her that. In the series finale, Simon is freed from the crown’s power and is returned to his old self.

While Ice King was introduced as a comedic villain, and was the main antagonist for most of the series...he is still a tragic villain do to him once being a sane man with a good life, but began to lose his mind because of the crown’s magic. At least he was transformed back into his old self, in the end. 

4. Mr. Freeze

Mr. Freeze is one of the most famous and tragic villains in the Batman universe. Mr. Freeze is, of course, a villain who uses the cold in his crimes. But in the past, Mr. Freeze was a scientist named ‘Victor Fries’ who had a loving and caring relationship with his wife: Nora. Victor loved Nora more than anything in the world. But at some point, Nora was diagnosed with a fatal disease with not long to live. Desperate to save her, Victor had Nora cryonectically frozen in order to keep her alive until a cure for her illness was found. Unfortunately, however, the equipment malfunctioned, causing the lab to explode in ice with Victor in it. Victor survived, but the explosion caused his body to only be able to survive in extremely cold weather. Nora had also survived...but her condition was even more serious than before. Victor created a suit to help him live, and began to commit crimes so he could continue keeping his wife alive.

Mr. Freeze’s motive for his crime spree is his wife’s life. He would go to extreme lengths to save her life...even if it meant becoming a bad guy.

5. Zack Foster and Rachel Gardner

While number 5 on the list consists of a duo...Zack and Rachel make one heck of a team. Zack and Rachel are the two main characters in the anime, Angels of Death, in which all of the characters are, in fact, mentally unstable individuals who like to kill people. 

As a child, Zack had lived with his mother until her boyfriend set him on fire for his own enjoyment. While Zack survived this attack, his mother abandoned him at an illegal orphanage, where many other orphans were mistreated and starved by the couple who owned the orphanage. Zack was forced to bury the bodies of the orphans who died there, and was treated as a pet by the couple. One night, Zack watched a slasher film, which gave him the idea to stab the couple to death while they slept. Afterwards, Zack left the orphanage and was soon taken in a blind, homeless man who was the first and only person to ever show him kindness. However, the man was killed by a couple of sociopaths. Zack found out and killed them. For many years...Zack would kill people who were ‘happy’ and lied to him, thus earning him the title of a serial killer. 

Rachel had lived with her parents before the start of the series. Rachel’s father was a cop who had a drinking problem, which resulted in several fights between him and his wife. Both of them blamed each other for Rachel’s lack of emotions, but only stayed together because of Rachel. Rachel’s father saw her as an insane girl, and her mother hated her and would even beat her. One day, Rachel found a stray puppy and wanted to keep it, but her parents wouldn’t listen to her and just kept on fighting with each other. But later on, she went back to where the puppy was and it bit her. This caused Rachel to blackout, but when she came to...she saw that she had killed the dog without even remembering what she had done. She then “fixed” the puppy by sewing it back together, thus “making it her’s”. When Rachel returned home with the puppy that night, her father snapped and stabbed her mother to death. Rachel witnessed it and ran back to her room, with her father chasing after her with the knife. Rachel took out a gun that her mother had hidden from him, and shot her father in self-defense. Rachel then sewed her parents’ bodies together, as her way of “fixing” them and creating her “perfect family”. A week later, the police arrived at the house and saw Rachel with the sewed up puppy and her parents. The police thought that Rachel was a surviving victim who was in shock, and was sent to a mental institution for treatment. 

Zack and Rachel are quite complicated, as they have both protagonist and antagonist qualities. They both kill people and use each other to escape a building full of death traps and killers...but they also care and understand each other, as they have both suffered years of abuse to the point of developing murderous instincts.

6. Dr. Doofenshmirtz

Dr. Doofenshmirtz was basically the main comedic-antagonist of the cartoon, Phineas and Ferb. Doofenshmirtz is the arch nemesis of Perry the Platypus, and is always making some kind of ‘inator’ device to conquer the Tri State Area...though many of his “evil” plans backfire and are not really THAT evil. Though the reason why Doofenshmirtz is an evil genius, is because of his bad childhood. 

Both of his parents neglected him, he always lived in the shadow of his younger brother, his only friend was a balloon, no one ever came to any of his birthdays, he was forced to wear dresses after his brother was born, and he was even disowned at one point and was forced to live with ocelots. So, yeah...it’s no wonder he turned to a life on crime. 

Doofenshmirtz is quite hilarious and not very evil...but his terrible childhood makes you wonder how he hasn’t killed anyone! At least his arch nemesis and teenage daughter care about him. 

7. Denzel Crocker 

Denzel Crocker is one of the main antagonists of the cartoon, Fairly Odd Parents. Crocker is a fourth grade teacher who is obsessed with catching fairies...which makes the people around him see him as crazy. Of course, there is a reason for his obsession with fairies.

When Crocker was a child, his single mother worked two jobs and left him with an abusive babysitter. Because of this, he had fairy godparents...just like Timmy Turner. His life with his fairies was the only time in his life when he was happy. However, after Timmy went back in time and accidentally revealed that Crocker had fairies, his fairies were taken away from him and his memory was erased several times. People even forgot all of the good things that Crocker had done with his fairies, and was now hated by the townspeople. Because his memory was erased more than once, his appearance changed...but he still did not forget the existence of fairies, only forgetting that he himself had fairy godparents as a child.

Crocker’s obsession with proving the existence of fairies has caused him to become a laughing stock, to the point where he was expelled from Harvard, was denied funding for his fairy research, lost his girlfriend, and he never moved out of his childhood home. Crocker is capable of building extraordinary machines and is quite smart, but he wastes his talents on trying to prove the existence of fairies. If only Crocker had never became obsessed with fairies, he may have been able to live a normal and decent life.

8. Wellies

Wellies are the residents of Wellington Wells in the game, We Happy Few. Wellies are known to be decent citizens in Wellington Wells...but their minds and emotional states are from from decent. They kill or throw out anyone who becomes a Downer (a person who either won’t take Joy, or cannot take Joy due to having a bad reaction towards it). But their villainous characteristics are all caused by denial and drug usage. 

In an alternate timeline, England surrendered to Germany during WWII and the citizens of Wellington Wells were forced to send their under 13 children on a train to Germany. The children never returned, even after Germany lost the war, and all of the townspeople were so traumatized by what had happened that they now rely on a drug: Joy. Joy is a pill that makes people forget the past, and put them in a state of constant happiness. The Wellies are addicted to this drug, as they cannot bear to remember what had happened to the children. To make matters worse, their whole civilization is now on the verge of collapse due to many problems caused by them always being on Joy: Broken machinery, plagues caused by pollution, towns beginning to collapse due to poor maintenance, starvation due to lack of food production, and a government who cannot bear to face the reality of their situation and would rather be on Joy than solve the problem. 

Because of their reliance on Joy, Wellies are completely unaware that the town is collapsing, and would rather be in denial than face reality. 

9. Mary

Mary is the hidden antagonist in the game, Ib. At first, Mary appears to be an innocent girl who claims to be trapped in the Fabricated World like the main protagonists, Ib and Garry. However, it is revealed that Mary is actually a girl from a painting who wants to escape the Fabricated World by replacing either Ib or Gary in the real world. 

Depending on the game’s ending, Mary either replaces Ib or Garry in the real world by leaving one of them behind in the Fabricated World, or is defeated by Ib and Garry and remains trapped in the Fabricated World. 

Mary was the last painting made by the artist: Guertena. She saw him as her “father”, because she was created by him, and was devastated by his death. Mary is very lonely in the Fabricated World, and wants so desperately to exist in the real world. Mary would do anything to become real and have a friend and family of her own. Years of loneliness can make a person desperate and insane.  

10. Zombies

Zombies are always the villains in anything zombie-related. They are undead humanoids who eat human flesh, and drive survivors to do questionable things and fight for survival. 

However, there is something that some people seem to forget: Zombies used to be normal, ordinary humans who did not become zombies by choice. They were turned into zombies either because of a mysterious virus, or a nuclear weapon that mutated them into creatures of the undead. 

Zombies do not remember who they once were, and some even end up killing and eating their own loved ones without even realizing it. They have basically been ripped of their humanity and are now walking shells of their former selves.

[idhrenniel]

The Ghost of You | Thomas Shelby

➴ Summary: Tommy’s love is so strong that not even death will keep him from her.

➴ Pairing: Tommy Shelby / fem!reader (3rd POV).

➴ Warnings: Death. Suicide mention. Ghosts I guess.

➴ Wordcount: 1.4K

➴ Tagged: @angelaiswriting

➴ Author Note: I’m so sick someone end me.

In the end, it wasn’t the war, or his enemies. It was himself. He craved for a peace he could never find on Earth, and decided to search for it somewhere else. Thomas never thought of the consequences of his actions, if she would be alright on her own, if their children would wake up in the middle of the night asking for their father. He thought about himself and she couldn’t blame him for that. She had seen him slipping through her fingers for so long, it was a matter of time before he lost that battle. But this acceptance didn’t stop the pain and the tears, and the feeling that he was, somehow, still there with her.

It began with a gush of wind when the windows were close, the feeling of a cold hand on her face while she slept. Sometimes, she swore, she could see him in the reflection of her mirror, but when she turned around he was gone. At first she thought it was her own grief making her see, feel, things. She talked to Pol about it and she had agreed, claiming something like that had happened to her when her husband died. Because of this, (Y/N) had tried to move on and ignore her shakiness when she was alone at home.

Until that night.

That night the children had gone to Ada’s house for a Halloween sleepover. The house was silent and, if a mouse were to walk around, she’d hear it without problem. (Y/N) sat on the couch, reading a book she had forgotten the name of. She mindlessly turned the pages, reading but not even close to comprehending. Something was off. More than usual. She knew he was there. (Y/N) couldn’t help to look up towards the door frame he used to lean against to watch her read in the late hours of the night when the two of them were alone. Then, he would grab her hand and drag her to bed, both laughing like teenagers in love. (Y/N) clenched her fist, reminiscing the feeling of his warmth, his kisses, his voice. A tear run down her face. Someone was quicker than her to wipe it off.

Her book fell on the floor as she jumped, screaming at the top of her lungs. She pressed her back against the wall, next to the window. Because of the lightning, his reflection could be seen on the glass. She brought a hand to her mouth, silencing the sobs. Thomas knelt on the ground, his hand high up in the air where her face had been moments ago. Hurt and lost, he got up, searching for her in the room. When he found her, (Y/N) sucked in a breath and closed her eyes. Darkness was better than facing the ghost of her dead husband. Even if she knew he’d never harm her, even if he had never, not once, tried to scare her. This was a little too much for her. Her heart beat against her ribcage so fast it hurt.

“(Y/N).” Her name echoed in the house, hitting the walls and doors and windows until it came to her. She shuddered. She had never been able to hear him before, what was different?

She pressed herself even more against the wall, sliding down until she was sitting. It was the night of Halloween. “Thomas?” She whispered, her voice quivering and weak.

Thomas looked as surprised as her, taking a step back. As the clock struck midnight, his… form, because she couldn’t find other word to describe it, became clearer.

He didn’t looked alive, still had a white aura around him, but he did look complete. (Y/N) had expected him to be see-through, because that’s what she had learnt from the ghost stories she was told of as a kid. But he looked, aura aside, as if he had come back home from the afterlife… from the fucking afterlife. Oh God, how was this happening to her?

Thomas moved and his steps were heard. (Y/N) frowned. He looked down at his own feet, a chuckle leaving his lips. “Now, that’s a surprise, eh?”

Could she slap him? She wanted to slap him. But she was too afraid to move, she’d lose it if she touched him. “What…?” (Y/N) couldn’t finish her sentence, loss of words.

“It’s Halloween. Tonight, I can be whole again. Alive, almost. It’s just tonight, though. I will be gone with the first light of the morning.”

(Y/N) shook her head. No, he wouldn’t be gone. She just wouldn’t be able to see him. He had died months ago and she had ever since felt his presence in the house, in her car, even when she went shopping or took the children to school. He was there all the time, with her. It was not as comforting as she had once expected it to be, but rather frightening.

Another step. She looked up to see him approaching her. She couldn’t scream, her voice lost somewhere in her throat, but God, she wanted to. This was not a film about true love where death can be defied and nothing can go wrong. (Y/N) craved his touch, but not like this. She couldn’t even think about that thing in front of her being her Thomas.

He stopped. “You’re afraid.” It wasn’t a question, he was stating a fact. She was on the floor, hugging her knees with tears running down her face. “You’re afraid of me.”

No. She wanted to tell him it wasn’t him she was afraid of, but it would’ve been a lie. Could he blame her, though? Seeing ghosts was not a common human trait. Although the look on his face broke her heart, she couldn’t bring herself to speak or comfort him. Or move, at all.

“When I did it, I heard the shot,” he began, sitting in the couch she had been on. “And then, a voice. Your voice. At first I thought that someone had found me and I was in a hospital, but it all felt too cold and the voices were mere echoes. You, the kids, Ada and Arthur. I could hear the voices but never get too close to them. Until you called me, asked me to come back.”

(Y/N) listened to his words, taking in what he said. For a long time after his death, she had called his name in the darkness, weeping as she wished for him to come back. But she had never expected him to do so, much less like this. It was so much to take in. Her voice was still shaking as she spoke. “Not like this.” And she repeated those words over and over again, sobbing as she did so. So weak that not even when Thomas knelt before her and took her hand she reacted. Not like this, she said to herself, then out loud again. She wanted him back, of course she did. She wanted to feel his arms wrapped around her waist at night and in the morning, feel his kisses and hear his laugh. He couldn’t give her that now, could he?

Thomas spoke again. “I know.” He sounded hurt. Not because of her words, though. He was hurt because of what he had done and what that had caused. “But I can’t leave.” Before she opened her mouth to question that, he continued: “I left once, I can’t do it again.” He took her face in his hands and she was surprised at how warm it felt. “You will never be alone. You might not be able to see or hear me, but I will be here. I swear.”

As he wrapped his arms around her, and she was able to lean against his chest, a coldness crawled up her chest and attached itself onto her heart. This didn’t feel right, but the bliss of him was clouding her mind. Their love was so strong she was able to summon him from the death, and if for one night he could be back… (Y/N) wrapped her arms around him, taking in the feeling of peace that emanated from his frame. Something was screaming at the back of her mind, but when Thomas brought their lips together, it shut down. And like that, it all went black. There was no more fear or anger, just peace. Only for one night, she’d let herself be haunted by the ghost of him.

[peggysousfan]

Discovering the Truth

This is a fic requested by @musiclmaiden where Daniel finds out that he was suppose to marry Peggy before Rogers time traveled to the past and ruined everything. I hope you like it!! :)

There in the small house a pair dance to the slow music. A man walks up to the door, preparing to knock, when he notices the door ajar. Cautious, he peers through the window and sees his worst nightmare; his beau swaying with another man- a man like no other. With a pang in his heart he steps back and watches, not believing his eyes. He's alive. Steve Rogers is alive- and he's dancing with Peggy Carter. Before he knows it she lifts her head from Steve's shoulder and peers into his eyes, and with a sunken heart Daniel watches as the two meet with a kiss. As he tries to catch his breath, his chest tightens and all air leaves his lungs; his heart has shattered. As he tries to catch his breath, he hears Peggy speak through the opened door

"I missed you, Steve." She says as she pulls back from the kiss. "I never forgot about you."

"I missed you too. More than you'll ever know." He chuckles and smiles down at her as they continue to sway to the music.

At the door Daniel takes another step back and looks down at the porch, his mind swirling endlessly. Peggy, his Peggy, was never really his. With puffy eyes and a single tear, Daniel walks away from the house - away from the love of his life.

(The Next Day)

While the sun begins to rise on the early morning of Los Angeles, the SSR office begins to fill with agents for the day. Everyone gets started for the day, some seated at their desks, others walk around for coffee and files. All the while the morning begins for them, little do they know their chief has barely left the previous day behind.

Daniel Sousa slumps in his chair, head in his hands, and his hair ruffled from restlessness. The image of his love dancing with a ghost- a ghost come back from the dead. To him it seemed like a horrid nightmare, one he has yet to wake from. Images of Peggy held in the arms of a dead man haunt Daniel still, and he hasn't slept since.

Within the hour Peggy walks into the bullpen, her heels clink and echo through the room. The few agents present this early all stare at the visitor she has alongside her. They all freeze in place, astonished by the presence of a ghost.

As she walks to her destination, she knocks and Daniel mumbles his response. Peggy opens the door and greets him with her smile; a smile he grew to know and love after 3 years of being together.

(Flashback)

As he stands at the door knocking, his heart beats out of his chest. Although they've been on numerous dates over the year, she never fails to make him nervous. As she opens the door and takes his arm, they set out on a night filled with love and peace. They dine on the beach and laugh along the pier, enjoying the night.

Once they return, Daniel's down turned mood confuses her, and she asks what is bothering him. He replies with his concerns -concerns regarding their relationship. She's leaving soon, maybe for a long time.

"This, us...it will work. No matter the distance or circumstance."

"How can you be sure, Peggy?"

"Because, Daniel" She laughs. "I love you."

She beams at him with the brightest smile she can give. Peggy Carter knows who her right partner is. And that man is Daniel Sousa. As their lips meet and mold perfectly together, she knows where the rest of her life will be spent, in the loving arms of the man before her.

(End flashback)

"Daniel!" As she walks in the door with such enthusiasm, he almost forgets the strain in his heart "There's someone  I think you should meet."

As she looks behind her and gestures for someone to enter, Daniel stands; his curiosity peeked. When he does he is met with the face of the man that that stole the woman he loves. He's face to face with Captain Steve Rogers himself.

"Steve this is Daniel Sousa, the chief of this office. Daniel this is Captain Steve Rogers....He came back." Her voice slightly cracks at the end and she looks at him in wonder. Peggy still cannot believe he's alive.

As she introduces the two men, Steve stands still, stiff as a  log.He looks at Daniel and notices his stance and crutch on the wall, but says nothing. Daniel, knowing what is civil, reaches out his hand. Steve hesitates, but they shake nonetheless. For several minutes Peggy talks to Daniel, and yet Rogers doesn't speak up once; instead he watches Daniel closely with a caution in his eye.

As the rest of the day goes by, Rogers stays awfully silent when around Daniel. He keeps his distance and grimaces when he sees him walk with he crutch. Peggy hasn't seemed to notice, but Daniel has. When lunch time comes around, Agent Simone takes everyone's order and passes them out when he returns. Peggy takes hers and walks over to Daniel's office. Once in, she hands over his and starts a conversation like any other day.

They sit and eat their lunch, chattering away as if nothing has changed. Daniel listens to her feather like laughter, and his heart feels whole again. It seems like the fog has lifted and the ice has broken; everything seems back to normal. As the room fills with their laughter, the office door bursts open.

“What’s so funny?” Steve interjects, and Daniel's grin turns into a grim expression.

And all at once, what began to feel at peace, turned into that of a silent war.

Neither Peggy nor Daniel answer his question, leaving the room to fill with awkward silence. Daniel crosses his arms and leans back against his desk while Peggy bites her lower lip and tries to keep her smile at bay. She knows Steve would never understand the joke in which Daniel had just told, one pertaining to a case they solved together; one in which Steve Rogers was 'dead' for.

Steve glances between them, an odd chill running up his spine. Daniel squints his deep brown eyes at the man lingering at his office door, his mind filled with unease. Peggy, sensing the tension, clears her throat and stands. Steve grinds his teeth together and locks his jaw before he walks to Peggy. He takes her hand in his and storms away. Confused, Peggy stops in her tracks, only to be pulled further by Rogers.

“Where are you taking me!?” Peggy asks as Steve pulls her away. "Steve!" At this he stops and looks at her. "What is going on? Why did you-"

"I just- I had to, Peggy." She raises a brow and tilts her head, causing him to look down and sigh. "To keep us safe, I had to."

"Safe? From Daniel?? That makes no sense, Daniel would never hurt me."

"That's the problem" He mumbles.

"What!?"Peggy exclaims.

"I need you to trust me on this, Peg. He's not good for you." She knits her brow and stares in shock. Steve sighs before explaining. "I have literally traveled through time and space to be with you. This is our chance to make up for the years I was gone."

As he begins to confess to Peggy what he has done, Daniel walks out of his office and listens from afar.

"Steve, what are you talking about?"

"Look, Peggy, we are meant to be together. Not you and a man that can't even walk on his own." At this Peggy yanks her hand away and takes a step back, her deep breath shaking within her.

"I beg your pardon?" She questions with a shake of her head; not believing the words uttered from the man before her.

"I hit the reset button, Peg. I came back for you. I came to give you the life you deserve. Not one where you spend the rest of it with a guy who can't even carry you off on your wedding day."

"I-I'm sorry." She interrupts with a raised hand. "Wedding? A-are you saying that Daniel and I-" Peggy stops and averts her eyes from him, her hand still lingering.

Steve grasps it and clamps it in his own. Daniel looks between Peggy and Steve, her expression one of horror. The abyss of anger boils inside of him and he can't stand to listen to another word from Rogers.

"Yeah. You did. But now...everything's changed." He smiles at her and she turns away, the bile in her stomach threatens to rise in her throat.

"So you-" Daniel stops and glances at Peggy, the woman who's gobsmacked expression expresses his own thoughts. "You erased everything Peggy and I had just so you could fulfill an obsessed fantasy?"

Steve turns to Daniel and  refuses to back down, his gaze glued to him. As the tension rises, Peggy steps back and leans against a desk, placing her head in her hands as her whole world flips upside down once more.

"Its not an obsessed fantasy. Its a new reality. One where Peggy gets the man she actually deserves. Not some-" His hand flails and point to Daniel's crutch. "Some gimp who limps around. She deserves someone who can protect her and keep up. Not someone who'll put her in danger by slowing her down." Steve's face is close to his; his words fueling a fiery rage burning within Daniel.

"I'd choose your next words very carefully, Rogers." Daniel sneers.

Steve's eyes glide down to his crutch, causing him to chuckle.

"Or what? Are you going to crutch away and throw something? Or would that make you loose balance and cause you to fall." Peggy lifts her head and gasps, her fist clenching at her side. "I would say we can call Life Lock to help you,but unfortunately that hasn't been invented yet."

"Life Lock?? What the hell is that?" Peggy interjects.

"Its a program for the elderly, or in this case, the crippled. Its a button you press to alert the authorities you need help. You know 'Help I've fallen and I can't get up' slogan, but like I said...hasn't been invented yet." Steve turns back to Daniel and looks him in the eye. "Guess you should make sure not to loose your balance. Otherwise you'd be left to fend for yourself....crip."

"How dare you! Daniel is more than capable of-"

"Not now Peggy!" Steve shouts. "I'm talking to the gimp. Or do you have to have a woman speak for you?"

Before Steve could react, Daniel steps back and raises his crutch. With one clink to the head, Steve is stunned. He looks at Daniel and raises a hand, but he's not quick enough. Daniel steps aside and whacks Rogers in the pit of his knee, causing him to fall. A loud thud fills the SSR office when Steve hits the floor.

With one swift clink across the skull, Steve falls unconscious and falls. Daniel stands, hovering above him, while Peggy walks over to him. After a quick exam for injuries, she places hand on either side of his cheeks and runs her fingers over his face.

"Are you alright?" Daniel looks down and averts his eyes from her.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm not the one who got their ass handed to him." He pulls out of her grasp and looks down at the unconscious super soldier.

"Daniel..."

Peggy reaches out to him, but he pulls away- leaving her heart to sink into her chest. Daniel starts to walk away but is pulled back by Peggy. She grabs his face and presses her lips to his. In this moment it seemed as if all of time had froze. When they break apart their eyes meet in a silent, questioning gaze.

"I choose you. I will always choose you."

For several moments they stare into each other, and Daniel begins to get lost in the golden flakes that dance in her eyes. As their lips meet once more Daniel knows in this exact moment that he never lost her. The love of his life was here, and she was never leaving his side.

[subukunojess]

On The Edge of Living (Ch 1)

Archive of Our Own / DeviantArt / FanFiction

Fandom: Beetlejuice the Musical

Word Count: 5,511

Content Warnings/Awareness: Death, Blood, Possible Gore, Mentions of Abuse, Smoking, Suicidal Themes, Giant, Tiny, G/T, People, objects, and animals are getting eaten, Vore (don’t know whether to tag it as such), Fluff, Angst, Adventure, Found Family, Friendship, just everything is wild.

Pairings: Charles/Delia, Past Charles/Emily, hints of Beetlelands, hints of Lydia/OC

Summary: AU. Lydia Deetz knew her life would turn upside down when she moved to a supposed haunted house with her father and life coach. What she didn’t expect were two actual ghosts living in her attic or being cursed to be bound to a demon sealed in some ancient spell book.With a growing emotional demon by her side and the afterlife betting on their future, Lydia will travel from Hell and back to break the curse and find out where she belongs… if her new town doesn’t end up being rampaged first.

Here’s my entry for the Beetlejuice Big Bang!

This was a surprise project I decided to take on when I saw it on my dash and I wanted to challenge myself writing with word count in mind. I knew I wanted to write a Beetlejuice AU with a tiny Lydia and a giant Beetlejuice, so I worked from there. I also wanted to challenge myself by planning and organizing my story ahead rather than take it chapter by chapter. Although it’s been difficult, I managed to pass the required 10 K mark and plan out the gist of my story. As of now, I have the chapters figure out and I have at least 20 K, but at the moment I have three completed chapters. I hope to work on the fic during my free time. 

Thank you, @beetlejuicebigbang for giving me the opportunity to do this! Without further delay, here’s the first chapter of my fic:

Chapter 1: The Curse Begins

In life, people say that only death is certain. For the afterlife? Eternity, any suffering of some kind, and the places the dead end up. Depending on the soul and the circumstances of someone's death, a person could be sent to a variety of realms. There were different versions of Heaven, Hell, Limbo, and in some cases, a holiday world. This tale in particular resides in the living realm, Hell, and the Netherworld.

There were two major details that the living didn't know about the afterlife. The first one was that the Netherworld was like a creepy airport for the recently deceased, only that it was really a dark abyss that led to who knows where with no way of telling where anyone would end up.

The second thing? Demons are really huge compared to humans, dead or alive. In the living realm, they blended with humans physically to make situations easier. But in Hell? A demon's true height could range between seven feet to hundreds of feet tall. And Hell wasn't just a cavern of fire and brimstone either. It was the dark, grimy underworld of a city where slum lords lurked in the alleys and the air was polluted with a fiery, red haze. It was nine circles of everlasting torture ruled by cardinal sins and vices. And for a certain demon who spent most of her afterlife in the Netherworld, it was an empty and bleak waiting room in a large office building with the walls decaying and the air smelling of burnt socks.

Juno Shoggoth scowled as her heels clacked against the tiles of the hallway, walking to the waiting room while trying not to hunch over as usual. Once she had signed in with the receptionist, she took her seat and briefly pulled the cigarette out from her lips, letting the smoke ooze out from the slit on her neck.

"Why did he have to call a meeting now of all times?" Juno hissed, crossing her legs. "Doesn't he know my work schedule in general?"

As director of Netherworld Customs and Processing, it was her job to make sure that the transition from life to the afterlife went smoothly for the dead. Sure, the work was tedious and the woman would rather smoke for eternity than deal with tiny annoyances, but she was assigned to the position not by choice. She literally and figuratively grew from a civil servant spirit to a powerful demon overnight; one of her proudest achievements she had to admit.

Her biggest mistake was Lawrence.

Lawrence Betelgeuse Shoggoth. Just thinking about his name made her blow another smoke ring and want a shot of alcohol. Like most other demons who were born dead rather than turned into one, Betelgeuse appeared after Juno had affairs with a demon and the demon left. She didn't like children to begin with, let alone raising something that acted like one. Regardless, she didn't have a choice either when a dead-born was involved. Dead-borns were powerful shifters with abilities no one dared imagine and capable of changing their size more smoothly than regular demons, hence the curses placed on them and the mandatory supervision. If every realm in existence turned upside down and the blame traced back to Juno, she would never hear the end of it.

"Lucifer is ready for you now, Miss Juno!" The receptionist's shrill, but deep shriek interrupted her train of thought.

"It's about damn time." Juno muttered under her breath as she threw her cigarette away and stood up. A red line of energy was drawn in front of the demon out of nowhere before splitting in two and opening as a doorway to Lucifer's office. She walked through the portal, the line disappearing as soon as she entered the room. Although she got used to the afterlife, Juno would admit that she didn't know whether it was a relief or unnerving that the room was a typical office one would expect a boss to reside in with a chair and desk, save for the hazy landscape of hell on the other side of the window in front of her. At this point, she didn't even bother wondering.

"Have a seat, Juno." A deep, gruff voice commanded from a leather swivel chair in a calm tone, causing a slight echo in the room. Juno sat on the wooden chair without fanfare, glaring at the window.

The ruler of Hell was arguably the most massive demon ever known, probably rivaled by Leviathan if they got into a mood. Big horns? Monstrous? Usually dwelled at the very bottom of Hell? Most of the rumors were true along with the fact that everybody knew not to mess with him unless they had a wish worse than death. Despite such knowledge, Lucifer appeared from the swivel chair on the other side of the desk, much smaller than normal and dressed for business. A simple black suit and dark red tie with golden cuff links. Dark grey medium length hair with large twisted horns of ivory adorned on top of it. Yellow eyes with pupils akin to a goat's narrowed as he fixed his collar and cleared his throat.

"I have a feeling you know the reason why I called you here." Lucifer stated, raising an eyebrow. Juno returned the action.

"You usually don't call me unless A) you’re redesigning the Netherworld in some way or B) Beetlejuice is involved. Something tells me it's the latter."

"Come on, Juno. Don't sound like I keep calling you because of that! You're a good worker. No nonsense. Telling it like it is while sorting out the souls. You're one of the few demons I could tolerate." When Juno didn't respond, the ruler of Hell continued.

"I just wanted to discuss what our plans are for Lawrence in the future, that's all." Lucifer shrugged. "Just to prevent repeated offenses from happening. Despite his... flaws, your son still has potential. Deceit. Torture. Power that some dead-borns don't have. I wanted him to become an official exorcist demon, but you insisted on having him as a Netherworld guide instead, even though he hasn't done it properly in centuries!" He brought a fist down onto the desk, the whole room seeming to tremble at the action.

"With all due respect, sir, we cannot give any more power and ego than the fool believes he has." Juno hissed as she pinched the bridge of her nose briefly. "If we do, both the Netherworld and Hell would be in shambles. And I believe you just want him to annoy one of your own headaches."

At that, both demons glared at each other and crossed their arms as they leaned forward. They stared at each other down for a while until Lucifer pulled back up with a sigh.

"... You're smarter than I thought." Ignoring the woman's tiny smirk of victory, Lucifer turned his back to her as he stared at the hazy city before him.

"You're not wrong. You got Lawrence and the Recently Deceased, I got the souls of the damned and the other cardinal leaders bothering me. Beelzebub especially. Always gloating that he's more powerful and mainstream than the rest. I figured that if he's with someone just as annoying as him, he'll settle down and we both get them out of our businesses for at least a decade or two. Maybe a century if we're lucky."

Juno scoffed. "That's going to be a problem since I banished mine to the world of the living."

"And how's that going for you?" Lucifer glanced back at the director, almost knowingly. "Knowing him, he'll find a way back to the dead. He always does."

“I can assure you that Lawrence is stuck at the surface with the living and suffering for it.”

Meanwhile in one of the several downtown areas of Hell, something was going down on one of the top floors of a ten-floor apartment.

In front of the building was a black Mercedes Benz with a fly painted on the hood, idle as the driver waited for someone. Inside the car, black sharp nails drummed against the wheel at a scattered and quick pace while the owner of said nails exhaled a buzzing breath.

“Why is he taking so long? There won't be much time left!” The driver growled in a high baritone voice that sounded as if it were melting like butter. His unruly, spiky orange hair seemed to hover over his pointed ears as his bright orange eyes narrowed at nothing specific on the street. He was tall, had dark tan skin, and a bit chubby around the edges with a pot belly held back by a sleeveless maroon shirt and ripped black jeans. The large fly wings on his back hummed against the seat, almost impatient. It was supposed to be a quick stop of supplies and nothing else. What was going on in there?

Just then, there were some muffled shouts until someone burst out through the front door lugging an overfilled burlap sack over their shoulder. The demon was a bit more than five and a half feet tall with golden eyes, pale skin, and wild green hair along with some yellow strands popping out. They wore a dusty dark grey coat over their black and white striped suit and green tie.

They then exclaimed in a masculine, gravelly voice as they scrambled into the front passenger seat, "Step on it, Bee!"

"It's about time!" The orange-haired demon groaned in relief as he slammed the accelerator and the car sped off, causing the other to almost fly out to the backseat, but he held on.

“What took you so long, Beetlejuice?! I’ve been waiting here for decades! Did ya get everything?” Bee inquired with a smile.

Beetlejuice chuckled and nudged an elbow to Bee, “It hasn’t been that long and you know it, Beelzebub. I should know; I’ve been waiting for centuries. And it isn’t my fault this time! A couple o' demons were late, some of the items were wrong, and I kinda-sorta pissed some of the demons off with a femur. Don't ask."

“Damn… my bad. We wouldn’t have taken this detour if dear old Satan and the rest of my ‘family’ didn’t seal some of my powers away! You take over a few séances and possess a large group of people for three weeks and suddenly, you’re the bad guy!” Bee snarled and shook his head before making a sharp left turn at an alley once he saw some shadows at his rear-view mirror.

“I know, right?” Beetlejuice scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Sounds just like my mom. ‘Beebleboose, stop bothering the recently deceased and get a job!’”

Beelzebub laughed as he elbowed the dead-born demon, the yellow colors fading back to green. “See? We get each other, BJ! The only other demon who gets me would be my twin, but he’s more about locking his stash away and never using it. Not us. We gluttons know how to have a good time! Why don’t you move down here for the rest of eternity? We could be neighbors, roommates even!”

"As much as eternal suffering sounds awesome, it kinda loses its touch after a while, ya know?" Beetlejuice leaned back in his seat. "Doesn't it get boring torturing and killing souls over and over and they always come back? It's gettin' to a point where everyone expects it. I just wanna get out and have my kind of fun for a change! I wanna be with the living! I don’t want anyone or anything tying me down ever again."

"I hear ya, Ant-Wine. There's just something about the living that's so damn addicting. And I ain't just talking about tastes either! Why do you think I keep risking my existence for the biggest gluttons out there? And what's your job on the surface again? It sounds hilarious!"

"A bio-exorcist. Y'know how the living try to take out demons? I, a demon, take out the living for the dead." Beetlejuice jerked a thumb to his own chest with pride, then shrugged after thinking about it. “Granted, I can’t affect the living and I’m getting ghosts to make the living say my name, but it’s a good gig.”

“Well, ya don’t need to worry about that anymore once we get to the spot!” Bee assured him as he checked to see if anything else were following them, then sighing when they were in the clear. “I got some of my followers on the surface getting themselves into position. When we get there, I possess the leader, say your name three times, and we both get summoned into the land of the living. We scare and eat as much as we want, grow as we please, and we split the world and possibly the universe fifty-fifty!”

“Eighty-twenty.” Beetlejuice challenged.

“Seventy-thirty.”

“Sixty-forty, plus I get a Broadway musical and say-so on the merch!” The green-haired demon pointed finger guns at the other while winking.  

“Deal!” Both demons shook on it.

“Ay dios mio, is that what you were planning all this time?!” A tiny, muffled voice squeaked all of a sudden that almost made the two demons jump. Hearing the source near him, Beetlejuice blinked and glanced down at one of his shirt pockets. He reached to open it when a small head poked out of the pocket. A blueish-green head with long red hair that Beetlejuice recognized from anywhere.

"Teresa?! What are you doing here?" He exclaimed as he almost fell backwards in his seat. The woman in question stood up from her spot in the pocket and lifted her arm to point up at him.

"I could ask you the same thing, mi canalla! Here I am, riding and sliding in your pocket instead of taking my well-earned, once-in-a-death time break! Do you know how much paperwork I needed to file to get it approved?!" Teresa scolded while almost ripping strands of her own hair out, then sighed as she pinched her forehead and muttered in Spanish briefly. "I saw you leaving the Netherworld and I got worried, so I followed you and hid in here while you shifted."

At that, the dead-born demon scowled and crossed his arms. "There's nothin' ta worry about. I'm fine on my own!"

Beelzebub glanced from the wheel to see the tiny spirit and gave a slight smirk, reaching to poke her with his pointer finger. "Huh... So your guardian ghost is Miss Argentina?" At that, Teresa snapped her fingers and pushed the large appendage away.

"That's Miss Teresa Maria Argentina to you, buster! No touching!"  She craned her head up to the giant that carried her. “Who does this guy think he is, anyway?”

“This guy is the demon prince of Gluttony.”

Teresa scoffed, then did a double take and stared at Bee again. "Huh. Not what I expected for the king of all pigs."

"La adulación la llevará a todas partes, Señorita. And there's more to gluttony than just eating." The demon crooned, focusing back onto the street. “We’re in the age of excess, honey, and you’re a part of it whether you like it or not.”

“Oh no, I’m not going to be in your little scheme of yours! Which, by the way, will backfire!” Miss Argentina pointed out before crossing her arms in disapproval.

“You can come to the land of the living with us?” Beetlejuice offered with a grin. Before Teresa could reply, both she and the dead-born jolted forward when Beelzebub suddenly on the brakes. The three looked out the window to see an entire row of demons barricading the street. Some demons had motorcycles and their own cars while others stood with their hulking bodies alone. All of them came in different shapes and sizes. A particular demon who looked more like a chubby dragon in form stepped forward from the crow of angry demons.

“Beetlejuice, we got ya surrounded! Come outta the glutton's car. We just need ta talk!” The dragon demon bellowed with a brash voice.

Beetlejuice let out a laugh, his hair turning a bit yellow at the tips as he opened his window and waved. "Heeeeeey, Rosco! How's the femur?" A growl and glare was his only reply.

"Go on ahead! I'll see if I could blow these guys off and contact Mintaka to back us up! I'll catch up with you two when I can." Beelzebub ordered. Without waiting for an answer, he revved up his engine and made a sharp 180 turn. Magma spewed from between the wheels and created a large wave of molten rock, causing the line of demons to scramble away from it.

“Now!” Beelzebub shouted as Beetlejuice's door opened by itself. The ghost didn't need to be told twice. He flew out of the car and landed on his feet before he ran into a nearby alleyway. A few demons and imps who had avoided the magma followed him.

Teresa clung to the edge of the shirt pocket for dear afterlife as her giant mode of transportation moved quickly. Yes, she was dead, but that didn't mean she was immune to pain. It was also a force of habit.

Beetlejuice cursed at himself. It would've been much easier if he were at the surface and he could just teleport himself away. He didn't have that luxury in Hell. Seeing a wired fence up ahead, he had a plan. He pulled at his hair three times as if grabbing something, then he seemed to throw something invisible to his pursuers. All of a sudden, three clones of himself appeared in front of the demons, blocking them from their path as he leapt onto the fence and clambered up to the other side.

"Damn that rat!" One imp exclaimed in frustration. Beetlejuice smirked and continued moving. After a while, he came across an open clearing and an entrance to a burning park covered in glowing stalagmites. They were close to the summoning spot. The ghost with the most cheered, jumping into the air and pumping his fist. Nothing could ruin his moment! He took a few steps forward...

... only to get tackled by a large dust cloud consisting of Rosco and Beelzebub clawing and gnawing at each other. Beetlejuice snarled as his nails and fangs sharpened, trying to push both demons off of him while biting and scratching anyone who came too close. Teresa ducked down to the safety of the shirt pocket, questioning her afterlife choices. The ball of fighting seemed to stop when both Beetlejuice and Beelzebub grabbed Rosco by the shoulders and slammed him to the side of a building.

"Ha!" The two demons exclaimed in victory. The impact was so great, it caused the building to break in half and topple over, hitting the building next door. And the one after that. And the one after that. Soon, there was a giant building version of dominoes falling one by one until it stopped at a particular office building where two demons were having a meeting.

"BETELGEUSE/BEELZEBUB!" Two voices roared suddenly, echoing all over Hell and possibly the Netherworld as well. Both demons in question stood up straight, let go of the dragon demon, and winced in unison.

"Oh crap."

Before either of them knew it, the two demons and the spirit found themselves in Lucifer's domain, tensed and unaware of what would transpire. As Bee got dragged away in chains, Beetlejuice stood in the middle of the hallway and averted his eyes from Juno's sight, his hair and outfit turning a gloomy violet as his wrists shifted from the handcuffs behind him. Teresa stood on the director's shoulder, not saying a word.

"Why doesn't this surprise me one bit?" Juno stated calmly, only to shriek when Beetlejuice opened his mouth to speak. "You damn fool! You couldn't give me just one year of peace without screwing it up!"

"But mom-!"

"BUT NOTHING! I'll deal with you later." Juno raised the palm of her hand, causing Beeltejuice to stumble backwards and freeze. Without delay, she then took out a piece of chalk from her hair and drew a tiny door on the nearby wall. She knocked on the door three times with her pinky and the door opened up to reveal green mist. She then aligned herself so the ghost on her shoulder was in front of the entrance.

"I take it you enjoyed your relaxing break?” Juno asked in a saccharine tone. Not waiting for an answer, she exclaimed. “Now get back to work! We just got a bus load of casino gamblers who are probably going to fight with the football players and do who knows what. And no word of what you saw here to the others, understand?”

"Yes, ma'am." Teresa nodded as she held herself while trying to look as professional as possible. She strutted to the door, but stopped just as she was about to enter. She turned her head to look back at Beetlejuice who tried not to make eye contact with her. With a sympathetic frown, she gave a slight wave and made her exit, the door shutting behind her. Beetlejuice looked to the door and sighed, only to yelp when his handcuffs tugged him forward.

“Come on, Lawrence. Satan’s waiting for you.” Juno ordered, walking ahead past her son. She beckoned her finger and the handcuffs tugged again, forcing Beetlejuice to follow her. They went down the hallway and entered the last room which was filled to the brim with demons and imps like a courtroom. Most of them were either involved with recent events or were nearby. There were conversations between their groups until the Shoggoths entered the room, causing the room to become silent.

Juno took Beetlejuice to the front of the stand where the Cardinal Council sat in tall podiums waiting for him. The Cardinal Council consisted of powerful demons who embodied the seven main cardinal sins known to humans. Belphegor of Sloth was dozing off in his seat. Leviathan of Envy was writing a few notes to themselves. Asmodeus of Lust brushed his pink long locks with a comb and some help with a breeze he summoned. Mammon of Greed fidgeted with his coins like always. Beelzebub of Gluttony managed a subtle wave to the dead-born. Last but not least, Lucifer stood at the tallest podium. Despite popular belief, he had the honor of having both Pride and Wrath in his repertoire. Nothing changed about him except that he had more fur and goat features at the moment. Beetlejuice took his place in front of the council, but felt the force from his mother staying with him. Once everyone was accounted for, Lucifer cleared his throat and drummed his claws on the podium.

“Out of all the dead-borns we have in Hell and all over, you have got to be the most stubborn pain in the ass I ever met.” He started, glaring down at the dead-born.

"Lucy, hey! How ya doin'? Your horns look extra-curly today." Beetlejuice casually greeted with a wink.

"Flattery will get you nowhere with me, Lawrence." The goat demon deadpanned. Beetlejuice felt his handcuffs tugging him back and he glanced to see his mother's disapproving frown. Swallowing the negativity for now, he returned his attention to the one in charge.

"C'mon, Lucifer. Let's talk demon to demon, huh? Sure, I snuck down here to hang out with one of the most powerful demons in Hell and destroyed a few things, but what demon hasn't?" The ghost with the most laughed and shrugged. "Besides, it's not like the first few times I messed up here."

“Oh, where do I begin with that?” Lucifer asked in a sardonic tone before he pulled out a large scroll from behind his back and unraveled it. The paper dropped on the ground and continued to roll onto the ground, stretching out of the room and seeming to continue rolling. Yellow strands of hair started to appear on Beetlejuice’s head.

“Surely, you must be exaggerating!” An imp who stood below the podium exclaimed in disbelief, leaning over to read the long scroll.

“This is Beetlejuice we’re talking about. Am I? Let’s read a few random ones, shall we?” The ruler of Hell took out a pair of eyeglasses and placed them on before skimming to a random spot on the list. “There was the time that he and another dead-born managed to freeze all of Hell for a while because, and I quote, ‘We need to have a snow day’.”

"We really needed one!" Beetlejuice shot back in defense. "I've seen breathers enjoy those all the time and Mint owed me one!"

Lucifer chose not to answer as he continued, "You let all the hellhounds loose and insisted that Cerberus should go on a 'play-date'."

"Hey, what Spot and I have is something special! They and Sandy would get along great eating souls and all."

"They are MY pet!"

"Eh... you say 'pet', I say 'furry and fun three-headed acquaintance'."

"And let's not forget the 'food' incident when you somehow managed to make the Netherworld smell like coconut, Hell smell like guacamole, and nearly consumed a hundred souls assigned to a specific place in Hell!" Nearly every demonic being in the room shuddered at the memory.

At the last offense, Beetlejuice shuddered as he nodded in agreement. "Okay, now that was a mistake I will never do again. The last time I would ever make anything in the Lust district. We'll leave it at that! No offense, Azzy."

"None taken." Asmodeus muttered from his seat, not knowing whether to bleach the memory from his brain or keep it.

"The point is you've been causing trouble both here and the Netherworld for centuries despite your curse and I'm at my limit for the last time!" Lucifer sneered, rolling the scroll of crimes back up and making it disappear.

The demons, imps, and four members of the Cardinal Council talked amongst themselves. No doubt they were talking about Beetlejuice and how annoying he was. Beelzebub raised his hand.

"Hey, Satan. It was my idea in the first place. B-Juice was just going along with it. Can't we just lock him outta Hell for a while and curse me instead?" The demon of Gluttony offered. The demon of Pride and Wrath glared at him.

"Oh look at you, trying to act all noble!" Lucifer's voice went up a pitch as he clasped his hands in mockery before he dropped the act and adjusted his glasses with a frown, earning a glare from Bee. "Don't play cute with me. He'll just somehow come here and you two will cause mayhem again!"

"You took the words right out of my mouth." Juno commented drily. The mutters and clamor resumed until Lucifer smacked the side of the podium with his tail hard, causing the room to be silent.  

"What we need is a more... proper punishment. A curse that'll make sure you get the message through that thick skull of yours." With a wave of his wrist, a hefty folder of papers stamped with Beetlejuice's name on it appeared on the podium. Lucifer then started skimming through the file. This continued for a minute or two until his eyes widened at a particular page. He glanced at the dead-born.

"You're obsessed with humans, right? I believe you call them breathers in the Netherworld. You and Bee have that much in common."

No one said a word. Beelzebub averted his gaze from everyone, sinking into his seat as he wanted to be anywhere but there. Juno blew a smoke ring, keeping her thoughts to herself. Beetlejuice continued to glare at the ruler of Hell from his position. Lucifer placed down the stack of papers and took off his eyeglasses to stare at the other. He was silent for a moment until he gave a slight smirk.

"Since you like breathers so much, I should give you what you want. It is what you deserve, after all." He rubbed his claws against his chest before he pointed one at the dead-born. "Lawrence Betelgeuse Shoggoth, you are still banished to the world of the living and cannot say your true name, but I'm adding a few details so you'll stay put. The first one? I'm sealing you to the one item that'll be your downfall."

Lucifer snapped his fingers and a flame burst up from the ground, forming a specific shape. When Beetlejuice noticed what the shape was, he paled.

"No... Not that. Anything but that!" He exclaimed.

"Oh, yes that. Congratulations, you're going to be... LITERATURE!" The flames died down and a large book with a black cover floated in the air. Upon seeing it, Beetlejuice dropped to his knees and screamed dramatically.

"But I can't spell! You maniac!"

"And that's not all! You will be sealed inside this book for all eternity unless you can bond with a living person. It could be any type of bond as long as it's genuine and strong. I'll add some more rules for you to read at your leisure. Until then, only a breather who can read your book could set you free and we all know the chances of that happening!" Lucifer laughed, causing everyone to join him. He then turned to Juno, raising an eyebrow. "This curse alright with you, Juno?"

"Beetlejuice becoming the very thing he destroys? Now that's something I would like to see." The director of Netherworld Customs almost grinned at that. Her son stared at the ground, the purple on his body and hair getting deeper. Seeing that Juno had no complaints, Lucifer then addressed everyone else.

"All those in favor of turning Betelgeuse into a book and throwing him out, say 'Eye'."

"Eye!" Everyone in the room except Beetlejuice and Beelzebub raised their hands, some of the demons even held up their own eyeballs. Lucifer took a quick scan and grinned.

"It's settled. Majority rules. Time to go. Bye, Bug-Beverage!" With a sadistic glint in his eye, the demon ruler snapped his fingers. The large book floated in the air and opened itself, its pages flipping and glowing until it stopped at the center of the book. Once it stopped, a swirling vortex appeared on both pages, acting as a powerful wind current as chains shot out from the book and connected with the ghost's handcuffs to pull him in. Beetlejuice panicked.

"No, wait! I'll behave, I promise! Not this, anything but this! Satan, the things I do ta get a different beginning from the original source material!" Beetlejuice cursed as he gripped at the ground to hold himself from the wind current and chains pulling at him.. It only increased the suction, causing some demons and imps to brace themselves.

His claws dug deep onto the floor as he was dragged by his chains towards the book. Gritting his fangs, Beetlejuice reached out to Beelzebub and cried out, "Tell my story!" Before the gluttony demon could respond, the ghost with the most was sucked into the book and it slammed itself shut.

Everyone in the room applauded and let out a sigh of relief. With a deadpan expression on his face, Beelzebub got up from his seat.

"Well... that was fun." Bee yawned and rolled his eyes, pointing to the other side of the room. "I'm out!"

"Ah-ah-ah. Not so fast!" Satan crooned and grabbed the orange-haired demon by the shirt collar to stop his escape. "I haven't forgotten about you nor my original plan. Just need to put the finishing touches..."

Without any explanation, Lucifer pulled Beelzebub's arm towards his face and bit at the other's thumb, causing the latter to scream. He then slammed Beelzebub's left hand onto the book. Black blood seeped from the thumb and spread onto the entire book, glowing orange upon contact. When he felt that there was enough, Lucifer took off Bee's hand and waved over the book, causing the glow to fade. With that, the seals were complete.

Having watched everything, Juno stared at the book her son was in, her face expressionless. She then took a drag of her cigarette and glanced away, almost relieved. "Let the living deal with him now."

"Where should we drop 'im, boss?" An imp asked as it hopped next to Lucifer, ready to complete the deed once and for all.

"The one place rarely anyone would find it so easy." The ruler of Hell replied after a bit of thought. "A place no one would ever expect such a powerful book to be!"

Late at night on the surface where the living dwelled, a red portal opened up above the sleepy town of Winter River, Connecticut. The black book fell out from the portal, its blank pages fluttering with the air as the portal immediately closed back up. The book continued to fall until it reached above an old tall house on a hill, going through the roof and landing right inside the attic of the house where it waited for someone, anyone worthy, to open and read it.

[masterofmagnetism]

Impotent || Self Para

“It is not power that corrupts but fear. Fear of losing power corrupts those who wield it and fear of the scourge of power corrupts those who are subject to it.” ― Aung San Suu Kyi, Freedom from Fear WHO: Erik Lehnsherr, mentions of @firstxman, @mistressxfmagnetism, @disarraycd, @burdenedxtelepath, @maidenxfmight, @mysteriousmutant WHERE: His rooms at the Brotherhood HQ. WHEN: After his confrontation with Alex and Scott. WHAT: Unable to access his powers for the first time he can remember, Erik finds himself alone with the hallucinations and memories dragged up by the Enchantress’ spell.  Except, maybe not alone--the Phoenix, unrestrained by the collar or Erik’s natural resistance to telepathic interference, takes advantage.  WORDS: 2.3k

TWs: Holocaust mention, child abuse, torture, experimentation, child death, paranoia, anxiety, guilt.  Uhhh.  Lots of TWs.  Par for the course.

He asked for this.  

He asked for this, and yet he still can’t catch his breath because there is a collar around his neck and the world seems to have lost a dimension without the gentle humming of the metal he can see around the room brushing against his senses.  He’s always filled his rooms with metal--from furniture to trinkets.  He liked to have access to it, needed to have access to it.  But it sat there dead to his senses, now, and Erik would have preferred the loss of an arm, the loss of nigh on anything else.  

Except.  

If he had them, he could hurt his family.  Would hurt his family (again), because he couldn’t tell what was real and what was fake and what was once real but couldn’t be now and they were all too close.  Stupid, stupid.  There had been a time that he’d worked largely alone, a very long time, and that had been safe.  Safer than settling down in a cabin in Ukraine as if he’d ever be allowed to have a family, safer than making friends with another Mossad agent and seeing the hole in their head and knowing he hadn’t gotten there fast enough, safer than staying at a school full of children who looked at him like he was anything like a hero until he put a bullet in their headmaster’s spine.  All that had happened when his perception could be trusted, and even that wasn’t the case, now.  He couldn’t trust his own eyes, his own ears, his own mind (that wasn’t even his own, anymore, some part of him reminded him distantly).

Freezing Alex’s blood had been easy, too easy.  Had Scott come a few moments later, he could have killed him:  the man’s brother, Lorna’s boyfriend, one of the many children he considered to be like his own.  Another child to pay the price for his powers, like Anya had.  

No, no.  That wasn’t your fault.  You tried to save them, to save her.  They did it.  You know how humans are: violent, dangerous.  Traitorous--your own coworkers, your own wife, neighbors whose houses you would visit, whose kids you would babysit; they all would have seen you dead.

( It sounds like his mental voice, sounds like Erik himself, and he doesn’t know when the Phoenix learned that.  He can’t even say with any certainty that it isn’t him, the words fitting so neatly into his stream of thoughts that it may well be.  Two layers of thought--Charles had said that was possible, and while he’d never known himself to be aware of it happening in his own mind, usually so carefully linear, it was possible. 

So, he noted absently in a thought that disappeared in the next moment, was the chance that he was losing his mind. )

“Please, Max.  Don’t act like this is news to you,” says the man that haunts his nightmares, where he sits in Erik’s chair like it’s his own, regarding the metallokinetic in his spot in the corner.  He’d hoped the two walls against his back would help.  They aren’t, much--any consolation they would provide is negated by the fact that he’s not certain they’re real at all.  The room keeps shifting around him--lab, gravesite, cabin, field, Raft, park. He remembers a scene from nigh on a century ago when his mother had wrapped him up with a coat to take him to the fair in town and crouched down to cup his cheeks and warned him if you get lost, stay where you are and someone will come find you, and so he refuses to move.  He thinks Scott knows where he is--that memory is clear enough, but then again, so is the man sitting in front of him who should be dead dead dead but yet continues to speak.  “I told you long before Vinnitsa that humans were the enemy.  They’re vermin, compared to us, and you know it.  Scheming.  Deceitful--and so are their sympathizers.” 

Charles, the most vocal of all of them in favor of the humans, who decided to recruit children to the cause for the sake of optics, who worked with the CIA, who got into his head, into Lorna’s head--

“I did warn you, Max.  But you always did need a heavy hand to pick things up, I suppose.”  Shaw, the one from Cuba, wavers, slips into the man Erik had first known him as in the camps, and Erik clenches his hands around his knees as the room shudders back into the lab he’d hated so much.  “Let me give you a hand,” he says, and Erik’s stomach rolls as the prod he’d hated so much comes into sight and the collar around his neck seems to soften into the strap they used to hold him down and then he feels--

Fire.

Licking at his legs, at his arms, singing his clothes but still too far away to catch, as he tears his way through the collapsing house.  He’d seen her fall, from her place in the window, as the floor collapsed underneath, but she was still here, maybe she was more alive than the men laid across their front yard like a battlefield.  “Anya!”  No response, but there was a shoe, and he feels what’s left of his heart plummet straight through the floor like she had because there’s a heap of wood still smoldering but ready to catch ablaze at any moment just a few meters away.  She’s there, but he knows she’s gone before he manages to dig her out.  

The house collapses just a few moments after he’s out, but he doesn’t care about anything but the girl lying limp in his arms like the ragdoll her mother had made for her.  Her mother who was gone, now, in a way that hurt almost worst than the way that his child was gone because she’d chosen it.  He’d only glanced at her for a moment before plunging into the house, after killing the humans who’d held him at bay, but the image was seared into his mind like a brand.  

He’d never seen her look so afraid, so disgusted, and it was directed at him.  

She claimed to love you for years, and look how easily she left.  One glimpse at what you are, and they go running.  Who you are doesn’t matter, only what.  It’ll never matter to them.  

Humans always saw things in black and white, as much as they’d profess to the contrary.  And that black and white was always selfish:  is this for me or against me?  They liked boxes, categories.  The Nazis had exploited it: here, here’s a list of the people you can blame for your problems.  It doesn’t matter how young, how good--the Jews, the Roma, the Sinti, the Slavs, the gays, the ‘asocial’.  Every war in history was based on that tendency to categorization--race, politics, religion, gender.  Us versus Them.  Them versus Us.  And the humans couldn’t, wouldn’t, stop.

Mutants were a team, together--their shared evolution, shared gifts, was a stronger tie than any artificial separations amongst themselves.  They were different, better, more evolved, more capable of working together.  The ‘split’ between the Brotherhood and the Institute had been overhyped to begin with, and never had it been clearer than now, with Xavier’s first and most devoted students now joining with the very group they’d once fought.  It was Charles who had become the sole standout, still too interested in the humans to see the truth.  

No, more than that--he split you to begin with.  He told you to leave, told Raven to do the same, and then let the others paint you as traitors.  He let the X-Men fight you for the sake of human credibility.  You told him you wanted us all to be brothers fighting for the same cause and he didn’t just say no--he made sure it wouldn’t happen.  

( He doesn’t remember reading the situation in Cuba exactly like that, before, but it sounded right.  The memories lined up.  The Phoenix shows you the truth. )

There was a reason Charles had been left out of the preparations he was making.  He couldn’t be trusted--had been far too sympathetic to the humans for too long, had taken on their habit of categorizing.  Us and Them.  Institute and Brotherhood.  

The only Them, the only Us, that mattered were the humans and everyone else, and that wasn’t prejudice but scientific fact.  Humans were less evolved.  Humans were dangerous.  The others tried to live in peace while humans hadn’t had peace for their entire existence.   

Waging war for peace.  A human concept, innately hypocritical, and yet: “Tactics based solely on morality can only succeed when you are dealing with people who are moral or a system that is moral.”  He remembers reading those words in a cafe in Dallas in 1964 like it was yesterday, hearing them ring as true as anything he’d ever heard.  King walked his followers into water cannons and dogs and bullets and asked them to lay down nicely for the cameras while it happened.  X spoke of an eye for an eye, matching guns with guns, dogs with dogs, and Erik remembered all too well that the only reason he’d gotten out of that hell of a camp with Magda was because the people of the camp had fought back and stopped being docile.  

( He couldn’t remember the rest of that saying, though, the phrase slipping from his mind and a moment later he couldn’t tell you there was another half at all. )

His mind shot to the Park, to the images they’d played on TV and that he’d gleaned from Jean’s mind the last time they’d shared headspace.  To the way that his people had been simply enjoying a warm day, harming no one, threatening no one, only to be met with armed enforcers and one of their own dying choking on his own blood in Logan’s arms.  Raven had--

Raven told the Enforcers they were there, but she didn’t make them pull the trigger.  They chose violence, like they always do.  This is what happens if we don’t fight like they do.  

More dead children, one of his greatest fears, the reason he has this blasted collar on in the first place--because Erik will do anything to keep the family he has now safe.  

Anything.  

Anything at all.  

Another shift, back to his own room--but not this one, the one in Brooklyn, the one where he and Jean had nearly taken the building apart in one confrontation that had almost gone as wrong as the one with Alex ( was that just an hour ago?  How long had he had the collar on?  How much time had passed? ).  There’s the haul from L-Corp sitting dismantled on his dining table, and Erik is reading the papers he’d stolen along with everything else, and his stomach feels odd the more he reads.  

Excitement? Fear? Guilt? He didn’t know, he still didn’t know.  The idea had crossed his mind back then but made him feel faintly queasy, doubts and concerns that he could no longer put his finger on making him reluctant to use the data he had the way the bird was whispering to him that he could.  But the feeling he had now looking back on it is something colder than that had been.  Matter-of-fact.  He knew what he needed to do.  

Supergirl agreed with him.  Agreed with the need for safety, agreed with his anger, agreed with everything except wasn’t willing to take the steps he was.  

Help her.  Help her, help us.  

They needed a win against the humans.  They needed it now, because Enforcement wasn’t getting any looser.  Erik’s plan was good, he felt it--he’d gone over much of it with Scott, tweaked the things that needed to be tweaked, and it felt like as good a plan as any.  But nothing was infallible.  

Why deprive yourself of an advantage against an opponent who won’t do the same?  We can help all of them--mutants, inhumans, aliens, metahumans.  We’re doing this to help them.  Any help from any of them is another point to balance the scales in our favor.

War was coming.  Even Scott and Jean believed it to be necessary.  He couldn’t afford to lose.  They couldn’t afford to lose.

Shaw was back, and Erik tried not to shudder as the sensation of the wall morphed into a knee as the man’s voice drifted down from above.  “You’re creative, Max, I’ll give you that.  It’s not the way I’d do it.  Bit more hands-on than a nuke would have been, but that’s the price you pay for trying to spare any of them.  I still say you kill them all--but who knows, you may well end up doing that anyway.”  No.  The threat would work.  It had to work.  The country’s principle of non-negotiation could hardly extend to millions of lives in the balance of their willingness to play ball.  “They’re stupid, we both know that.”

Can he live with the possibility of having that much blood on his hands?  

Can he live with what’ll happen if negotiations fail and he doesn’t?

“You’ve lived through so much, Henryk,” and that was Magda now, and Erik shook his head as if that alone could drive her out.  He didn’t need this.  

“Is there anything that you can’t live with?”  

The lines he drew in the sand have been moving for decades.  Things he swore he’d never do, he’d done, time and time again, promising himself that he still wouldn’t do this thing or that thing until the time came that his hand was forced and it was started all over again.  Even now, he’s doing something he’d promised he wouldn’t, locking his power away for the sake of his family.

He can’t have it all be for nothing.  Can’t live with the thought of being powerless to save his people yet again.  He’s an Omega-class mutant backed by Omega-class mutants.  He’s sharing the Phoenix Force.  He has to win.  He has to.  He has to. 

No matter the cost.

[letarasstuff]

Breakups and red Dresses

I hope u like it :)

"I just want someone to hold me. Someone, who whispers into my ear, that everything is going to be alright. Just one person, who gets me out of my panic ridden mind. But I ask for too much, obviously", I tell her while grabbing my suitcase. Tamara just stands there. Her mouth is wide open and her eyes show the shock she's in.

"Rob-Robin. You are my Sweetheart. We-we are destined for each bother. That's what I know now. I know, that we are perfect for one another", she tries to speak to me. But I'm not having anything of this. I grab my yellow coat and say to her: "Tamara. I loved you. Deeply. And of course I still do. Now this, this isn't right. You hurt me more than once and I forgave you every time. It-it's, I can't anymore. Every night, when you are late or aren't home I think you are with some other girl. And it destroys me. I can't continue a toxic relationship like this. I-I tried to make it work, but both of us have to put effort in it. And yours were always absent." With a sigh I go out of the door into the hallway of our apartment complex. My now ex-girlfriend cries and screams for me to stay. That we can make it work and that it was some stupid mistake.

Without turning around I make my way to the car, holding back any tears. I don't know how, but I drive to my brother's apartment without causing any accident.

A little while later I stand breathlessly in front of his door, ringing the bell. "Hey little sis, i just wanted to cal- what the", he says after opening the door and me throwing my body into his arms. I cry so hard, that all my breath is taken away. "No no no", realizes Ryan the situation and leads me into living room. After placing me on the couch he kneels in front of me and takes both of my hands in his own big ones.

"Robin, I need you to focus on my voice", my brother speaks in a calm manner, "Everything is going to be okay as long as you try to breath normal. Let us do some breathing exercises. Take all the air in like this" and so on. Together we steady me breathing again.

After sitting next to each other in silence, Ryan breaks it: "What happened? Why do you show up in the middle of the afternoon on a Friday, having nearly a panic attack and tears streaming down your cheeks?"

I shift uncomfortable in my seat. "Tamara and I broke up. No, I broke up with her. She cheated on me. Again", I respond without any emotion evident in my way of talking. But inside of me finds a battle its place. My heart wants to drive back to her and hug her forever and forget anything, that happened. My head is against it and wants us to be safe knowing a place, where we can't get hurt aka my brother's arm.

After a short span of another silence he asks: "What do you mean? Again?! Why didn't you tell me earlier?! I would have paid her a visit she would never forget." "I thought we could get back on track. It was the fourth time her being with another woman. I guess I kinda thought she can change. But I was wrong. She hurt me so much, Ryan. And I still love her so much." The last part is only a whisper.

While pulling me back into a hug, the boy responds: "You know what? This is a heartbreak emergency. I'll to call the Big Guy. He'll pick up ice cream on his way here, while I put in the loudest and most stupid action film we have. And you will take a nice and hot bath to relax. Then we stuff our faces with all the stuff, that mom would never allow, because of all the greasiness. Are you in or are you in?"

Smiling I nod my head. Another hour later I lie between the bois in one of Shane's gigantic hoodie, muffling on a family sized bag of chips and putting one spoon full of ice cream after another in my mouth. The TV plays Sharknado on full volume. I feel like a sandwich, being squeezed like this on both sides by two grown men. But I'm a happy sandwich, that feels loved. This is clearly everything that matters now.

*Time skip*

After another night, which consisted out of crying, turning and tossing around and giving up on sleep I sit in the kitchen. A cup of coffee in the one hand and a pen in the other.

And here I am, sitting in my brother's apartment at the age of 23, a broken heart in my chest and a voice in my head shouting at me for being dump enough to let this all happen.

"Morning", startles me Ryan's sleepy voice. I just nod and point at the coffee, which is already brewed. "You are an angel, sis", he answers my silent gesture and kisses my cheek. I continue looking at the wall and doesn't acknowledge the situation. Sighing he pours himself a cup of the brownish gold. Then he takes a seat opposite of me.

"I know", he begins, "Breakups suck. Also it's totally normal to be this heartbroken. But you can't stay like this forever. Robin, out there are other mothers with beautiful children. You have to stop burying yourself in self pity. Go out and meet new people. Maybe you meet your significant other today. But you'll miss it out, if you don't leave the house."

I stay silent. You're not ready for this, tells me my head.

Suddenly Ryan gets up and leaves the kitchen. I can hear him talking to someone faintly, he is probably on the phone. I'm still focused on the wall and the loud thoughts inside of me.

After some time, which felt like an eternity but was in reality not more than five minutes, my big brother reenters the room and announces: "Sara and Marielle will be here in half an hour. You have enough time to make yourself somewhat presentable. Then you'll go out with them and have a long and nice girl's day, even though you have enough of women. When you are back home, you'll pack some stuff and come with me and Shane to hunt some ghouls. You don't have a choice, so get ready or else our girlfriends take you with them in the clothes you are right now." It's more a command than a suggestion. Reluctantly I get up and drag myself into the bathroom. In the mirror I see a shadow of that, what should be Robin Bergara actually.

Her bright and shining eyes are dull and swollen from crying. The dark hair is matted and looks like it hadn't been washed in years. Seems like I need more a restoration than just a shower to look like my old self again.

Exactly 20 minutes later I smell and look nice again.

Dressed in a baggy sweater and black jeans I go back into the kitchen. There already are Sara, Marielle and Shane, greeting me with pity in their eyes. The girls get up immediately and hug me, while telling me that Tamara is stupid for letting me go and doing something like this. I just give them a nod. I don't have the nerves for talking about my ex right now.

After what felt like days strolling through store after store and mall after mall we sit down in a cute little coffe shop. Our bags need much more room then we do actually. But I feel better. Being back in the real world is what I really needed.

"Soo", makes Sara after we got our orders, "Now that you are single, you can enjoy all the advantages of it." "Or do you have someone else on your mind already?" adds Marielle. I just shake me head and answer: "Nah. You know, when people go through a breakup and they say, that they are now gay to protect themselves? I think that I just give up swinging for anybody and be straight. When I look at you, it seems to be more painless." Then we start laughing. We can't stop. When look at each other, we break out laughing again. Even though it's not that funny.

*Time skip*

Jet lagged I drag myself through the airport somewhere in the east coast. Shane leads the group, due to him doing long steps, for which i have to do three of mine. Last but not least are Ryan and I in the middle walks the crew.

"Now we've landed in D.C. and are on our way to the hotel. Do you wanna say something, Robin?" asks Ryan while he practically shoves his phone in my face. I just mumbled something like: "Let me be or the ghosts are your smallest problem tonight." "There you have it. She is a monster and not a sweet innocent angel", he laughs into the camera. Then my brother uploads the video on his Instagram story.

After slinging his arm around my shoulders he says: "I'm happy, that you are finally able to come to one of our investigations. It's gonna be fun!" "Well, I'm not here on my own free will. But we better find some ghouls tonight or I spray the Big Guy with holy water to show everyone that he is a demon."

"Hey! Can you be any slower? I feel like walking around with my grandmother", complains Shane. I respond: "If you carry me we would be way faster." Before I am able to comprehend it, I'm thrown over Shane's shoulder, my legs next to his face. "Stay still. I don't wanna explain to the fans that I have bruises in my beautiful face because of you."

After a nice and relaxing nap we are on our way to the haunted location. "So this", begins my brother, "is an old uh yeah, an old bordello." Shocked I look at him. "You aren't serious, are you?" He shifts uncomfortable and scratches his neck: "Well, this is real." "Oh man, I waited for so long to be finally able to hunt some nice and slutty ghoul prostitutes", says Shane enthusiastically.

*Time skip*

"Now we are going to try luring some ghost out of their hiding. We wanna make them comfortable. That's why someone has to dress, right for this establishment. So the ghosts think that they are still alive and are more willing to show themselves", tells Ryan his wonderful and smart idea. It's needless to say, that I am the chosen one.

Very uncomfortable I come back dressed in a veeeery short and revealing red dress.

My two ghoul bois see how awkward I feel. "OK, we don't do this. Go back and put your sweater on. Shane, you go and be the fake prostitute."

I hear a faint "YESSSS! I'VE ALWAYS WANTED TO BE THE FAKE PROSTITUTE! It's my time to shine!" while heading back to change.

And oh boy, he does shine in the dress.

[peacekeeper-xiv]

Serious Events

A series of events…

Aeritria and Arakiel meet accidentally inside Samael house.

Aeritria Locklair stopped dead in her tracks when Ara turned around. The blood drained from what little he could see of her face, and her eyes narrowed moving over him to look for weapons, surprises, explosives, all the things he might have on him while in Soren's house. It took her a couple ticks to reconcile the sight of him in Soren's house. Alive. Not dead. Not even thinking of the advantage that came from him not knowing who she was, she finally spoke, "Well bloody damn hell... you look surprisingly healthy for a dead man."

 Arakiel agrees to travel with Aeritria east, having decided that Ikara had been gone for too long and he was going to look for his daughter. They discover that they still have some disagreements though.

Arakiel Etemorah smirked. "Wrath?" He chuckled smarmily. "Kinda daft name to call a kid. He pick that out himself?" Still, he didn't seem intent on keeping up his teasing. "And what do they all mean to ya? What would you do if they were in danger?"

Aeritria Locklair rolled her eyes, "Its short, for Rathorin... " When he questioned her on what they meant to her and what she would do there was clearly a reaction. She tried to keep the calm, snarky demeanor, but too many things had already happened where she had given a whole lot for those three. There was the briefest of haunted looks before it was replaced with tense shoulders and a defensive posture. "Enough..."  Her lips pulled into a thin line, "Is that supposed to be a threat?”

Arakiel Etemorah smiled knowingly and shook his head. "No, but that's answer enough." Sheathing his katana, he stood. "I have a daughter. She should have returned by now, but she hasn't. That's what's in the Burn." His expression turned somewhat grim. "I wanted you to know before you decided to follow me. I'm willing to do -enough- for her.”

 Aeritria agrees to accompany Arakiel in his search for Ikara and together, they make for The Burn. Arakiels insistence on drawing out Aeritrias ire though, nearly sets them at odds.

Aeritria Thorne had never been good at reining in her temper, it was why she made such a good marauder. It was also why she had made such a good criminal. There was a sudden shift from her that would hit every one of his senses. The growled words came out with cold fury, "Fuck you Arakiel. I came out to help you, but that was just another dumbass mistake on my part. Everything is fucking fine. Its more godsdamn fine than it has been in over a twelves damned year, but you just can't leave well the fuck enough alone. I don't want to fucking talk about it cause its none of your gods damned business. You don't get to fucking come back from the dead and act like I should just fucking ugh!" Axe or no axe, there was a hint of red glowing in the abysmal darkness of her eyes before she turned around and started storming away. "Fuck you!"

It would be some time after that they managed to work out their difference, but once they had they concluded, wandering the desert in search of one small Au Ra was futile. Aeritria then turned to a dangerous source of power to send out the needed signal flare, her Dark Knight soul stone.

Aeritria Thorne took a few moments to try to catch her breath and shake away the voices that still tried to reach her from the stone. Running her fingers through her hair to push it out of the way she glared over at it for a moment. "I tried to warn you the darn thing isn't... as helpful as I like sometimes. I really did kick Rath's balls all the way into his throat last time I used the damn thing." Aeri rubbed the back of her neck and looked away, "Sorry... I haven't used it in a long while. With my other soul stones... it’s easy. It’s like they want to help. That one... there is still a bit of a fight going on with who is in charge of who."

 After some time arguing with the voices in her mind, Aeritria finally was able to cause a large enough explosion of aether that could be seen from malms around. The fact that it nearly killed herself and Arakiel was of little consequence.

Arakiel Etemorah wasn't a hero. It just wasn't in him. But he wasn't the same man he'd been a few years ago either. The blade in his hands was quickly sheathed and he rushed forward to where Aeritria stumbled. He wasn't about to pick her up and carry her away from danger like some knight in shining armor. But then, she'd have hated that. He grabbed her by the wrist and literally dragged her behind him. "Come the fuck on!" He wasn't going to let her go until they were behind enough rock to guarantee they would be safe from the explosion that was likely coming.

 Several bells later, their fishing attempt proved fruitful and they noted the appearance of an approaching figure. Unfortunately, it was not exactly who they had been looking for.

Arakiel Etemorah sheathed his blade, looking at her curiously as his hearing had not completely recovered. "One of them?" He looked to where the creature had been sniped and put two and two together. "The boy..." The unknown Miqo'te still seemed rather protective of Beta and stood between them and him, even if his weapon was put away. Beta's familiar voice shouted across the sands as he approached. "It's okay Aasifa, they are... family of a sort I guess?" The one called Aasifa seemed to relax a bit and plopped down in the sand as Beta and Ara and Aeri approached his location. "Aasifa is still thinking there are better ways to fish." He said quietly, more to himself than anyone else. Arakiel's steps seemed to hasten as he approached.

 With so many differing personalities… and because Aasifa is Aasifa, some troubles did arise.

 Aeritria Thorne saw Arakiel start choking after Aasifa did whatever the hell it was that he did and her attention snapped to the Miqo'te. Her chakrams came out and pinned Aasifa to one of the rock walls by his sleeves, "The Fuck you think you are doing you piece of shit! What the hell did you do to him?!"  She stood between Arakiel and Aasifa, and if looks could kill he would have been dead a thousand times over. She held a finger up to Beta to shut him up before he tried to 'help'.

 Eventually though, a peace was brokered, and the quartet left in search of the large sources of aether that Beta’s instruments had detected after the explosion Aeritria had caused.

Arakiel Etemorah might have moved to stop Aeri if she had still wielding her chakrams, but he did not expect the idiot cat to die from a punch. Beta called out in frustration as the punch landed. Aasifa for his part might have dodged the attack, if he'd bothered to try. Instead he took the hit to the throat and grinned at her as though he almost enjoyed all the chaos he'd caused. "Was... good... hit." He croaked out from a damaged voice. "Proud... of... sister." He ripped his sleeves free from the blades and found his feet on the sand once more. He didn't retaliate, simply rubbed at his throat and looked at her expectedly. Beta however was exasperated. "I swear to Alexander! Everyone's crazy!" He huffed and put away the smoke bomb and electric charge he'd been prepping if they hadn't stopped. Aeri's words had registered with him, but he knew better than provoking her further and refused to retort. "Can we get back to looking for Ikara now? Since you and I are the only ones who can speak now, I'll take your word for both of you."

Aeritria Thorne grit her teeth, dug her sharp nails into her palms and drew blood from her own hands to keep from murdering Aasifa right there and then. She reached over, grabbed her Chakrams, held them tight for a moment, still wound up and considering putting them through the rest of Aasifa's neck. It was Beta that managed to draw her out of it with his ridiculous cursing, "For fucks sake... didn't anyone ever teach you to curse properly?" She looked to Arakiel then took another breath. "I came out here to find you and Ikara... if Aasifa so much as touches that damn necklace again I will cut it off his neck, and I'm sure Arakiel will help, so if you want to find your girlfriend before something fucking happens to her you better tell you -friend- to behave or leave. Now, if you have an idea of where to go... let’s go."

Beta took in a deep breath and let out a long exhale. "I was trying to..." He frowned at Aasifa and pointed at the necklace. "No more chaos magic!" Aasifa looked like he might argue but Beta glared, and he stopped. "For all you know that thing might have called a hundred sandworms to raid the burn and it would've put her in more danger! So, no more til she's safe!" Beta looked properly angry and despite his inability to curse properly, seemed to convey the same feelings. He then turned to Arakiel. "And don't act like he's all innocent. Stop acting like you are gonna gut me 'cause I didn't know Ikara was out here! Cause I didn't and now I'm gonna find her! Aasifa could easily have seen you as a threat to his friend." Ara narrowed his eyes at the boy but simply turned his chin some and sneered. Finally, he turned to Aeritria. "He goes for the necklace again... stab him... ‘Cause I said not to. But you stop threatening him if he doesn't, 'kay? I've been wandering the burn for weeks now. I'm ready to be done with this place... so I just wanna find Ikara and then we can all go home." He huffed out another breath and continued. "And thank you for helping Arakiel look for her... I'm sorry this is all a mess, but I was trying to do good. So, let's... just do what you came here to do please." He continued a moment later in quieter tones. "And I don't like everyone else’s profanity. It's boring."

 Elsewhere in the Burn though the target of their search was about to have her own random encounter.

Ikara had been wandering the burn for what felt like an age. Trying to track Beta had turned into a much bigger problem than she had originally anticipated. She had made her way into Garlemald, stealing a uniform and posing as a Garlean soldier. Eventually she found the site where the popularis had their operations that Beta had been a part of. She searched every ilm of the area for any signs of Beta or which way he might have went. She eventually found Beta's tomephone, cracked and busted with charred and melted edges. She picked it up and searched the area even more, moving rubble. Eventually she resorted to carefully questioning a few citizens and was told that the rebels had flown off in the direction of the burn via magitek armor. She breathed a sigh of relief in the hope that Beta was on the airship, as she did hear from someone that no one was taken prisoner. All the rebels were killed or escaped, and she hadn't found his body yet. If he wasn't there, he might still be alive. Clutching the little scrap of a tomephone she went in the direction that the few citizens had pointed her in. She eventually found the wreckage of the armor and searched the entire thing from top to bottom. There was still no sign of Beta, but she found some disturbances in the sand and hoped they were the remnants of footprints. She followed them until they disappeared, eaten by the shifting sands. Then she kept looking. She wasn't sure how long she had been searching, but she knew she was lost, and she didn't care. If she was lost, it meant Beta probably was too, and they would eventually find each other.

A few malms away, Lloire had left the simulacrum of Cartenaeu that his mind had created as a battleground for himself and his reflections. Now he wandered the desert sands of the Burn once more, sorting his thoughts. He had no clue how to go about finding the people he needed to find or what order to find them in. Even as that were, were there enough people he worried for to face all the various aspects of his soul?

Some had been quoted as saying that the universe around them had come about in the beginning due to a massive explosion of aether, the same catalyst woke him from his indecisiveness. He hit the sand as an enormous shockwave of aether flew past him, stealing his feet from him.

"The fuck was that?"

As his senses returned to him, Lloire closed his eyes and focused not on where the explosion had been, but on any source powerful enough to have caused it. There was a massive pool of energy to the east of him that was far bleeding aether into the air. It was more than reasonable to assume that who or whatever it was, they were responsible for the massive explosion he'd felt. His fights would have to wait, leaving anything that powerful this close to Doma's borders would be irresponsible. Gathering his feet under him, he took off at a run towards the source of aether.

Ikara had been wandering in the Burn long enough that she felt like she was going blind. The land being so drained of aether meant she saw the world as everyone else did. She felt sorry for them, all the color was gone from this part of the world. She had found a small outcropping of what she originally thought were rocks but had eventually realized was the skull of a very large beast that had once dwelled there, and hidden away for a bit to get some rest and get out of the sun.

Then the world exploded in color far away. She felt it before she ran out and saw it. Her eyes watered from all the colors and she started searching the horizon for any signs of something that would explain it. Clutching the tomephone she started in the direction of the explosion, hoping that maybe if Beta was out there, he would investigate too.

Lloire travelled swiftly across the sand as he rushed towards the source of aether drawing at his senses. Eventually he climbed over an outcropping of rock and saw a figure in the distance. They didn't seem to have noticed him yet but were moving closer to him. If he held his position, he could wait until they were close enough to engage before revealing himself. He moved back behind one of the jutted-out stones and waited.

As Ikara made her way towards the explosion another source of aether caught her eye in the distance and closing in on her position. The aether was wrong, fractured, broken, and extremely potent.

The tomephone she clutched in her hand was tucked into her pocket and replaced by her staff. She had been conserving her aether the whole time she was out here, to the point where it was overflowing. Her necklace had been filled to the brim, but she had waited and not wasted it in case of running into a Garlean contingent or some beast.

She held her staff to her side, loosely and in a nonthreatening manner, but she was ready for whatever was on the other side of the ridge. When she got close enough, she yelled to whoever was there, "I can see you! Come out before I decide that I'll cast first and ask questions later. This is your only warning!"

Her voice was unmistakable. Lloire came out from behind the rocks with a curious expression worn on his face. "Ikara? What are yo--" He wasn't able to finish his question though as the sounds of the winds and shifting sands in the area were pierced with the sound of shattering glass. Ikara, who had the unique advantage of always seeing aether would see a fragment of Lloire's aether break away from the rest.

As for Lloire himself, he collapsed in a heap in front of her while the image of a younger Lloire remained where he had been standing. The Lloire-image began to solidify before finally seeming as alive, even to her vision, as Lloire had moments ago. "I should've known we'd run into you first and I'd be the first to fight..." He sighed. "You remind him... us... of Aliya sometimes." A staff materialized in his hands and a blackmage soul stone pulsed with aether beneath his robes. "I'm called Kid... And so that your older brother can live, I have to fight you with all my might... and you gotta kill me."

As he spoke, the similarities between who Lloire used to be and who Beta was seemed all the more pronounced. "Show him... us... what you're made of. That you won't be another Aliya, okay?"

Ikara was equal parts confused and relieved when Lloire stepped out from behind the rocks. "Nii---..." She watched his aether shard and split then him collapse to the ground and started running for him, without thought to her own safety. That was until a shard split off and started to solidify. Ikara skid to a halt, her staff still out at her side as a younger version of Lloire appeared before her.

"Halone's frosty tits... what the hells?" She eyed the fragment for a moment before flipping down a visor to see if he was still there without her aether sight. Her frown deepened as she tried to piece together what she saw with the visor down, verses what she was seeing with it up, "Oh.... what have you done to yourself big brother..?" His aether had somehow split off and manifested. The younger version of him was real in a sense, but only in so much as the creations she made from aether. It would disappear with time, but not until the wielder or spell was completed or removed.

Mention of Aliya had her frown deepening, "I'll take that as a compliment. Aliya was your best friend." She shook her head at the aether spirit. "I won't fight you. It could hurt the whole of him. He is completely fractured. Let me fix it instead." She wasn't holding her staff weakly at her side anymore though, it was ready in case the splinter decided to attack.

For his part, Kid-Lloire didn't seem to be in a rush to attack her. "It was a compliment. Look, you haven't seen us for a while. The Lloire you know. Nii-san I think? Anyways, he's prolly more messed up now then when he stabbed himself in the chest. He just fought each and every splinter of himself and killed each one. Well, except me and Erioll...." He shook his head energetically. "But that's off subject. The point is... He's finally realized what's got him so screwed up. He's scared that the people he cares for are gonna die. Usually ‘cause of him. There's a lot to unpack, but the basic gist is he needs his friends to prove they can handle their own against him when he's not in control. He's scared of his black magic... or his anger issues... or being you know... Hyur. But the truth is he's only really dangerous when he's whole... and then, only to his enemies. But we gotta prove it to him... us... so, you have to kill me. I'd rather you went into this with full knowledge and not making me force the issue." He huffed a breath, having spoken more than Lloire usually would. "So, what do you say?" The younger Lloire lazily lifted his staff and nodded to Ikara. "I mean, if nothing else... you kinda need to blow some aether." A small almost shy smile was half hidden behind his staff.

Ikara listened and it was clear she was starting to nurse a headache from how dumb it all sounded. Then again, she really wasn't too much different than her brother. She had run off plenty of times without people to protect them. She wasn't sure she trusted any of them to take care of themselves. It was why she was in this gods forsaken desert in the first place.

"Let me examine him, to ascertain that you are telling the truth, though I doubt you are lying. I have to be sure it won't kill him. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I killed him without checking first. Let me do that, and sure... I'll kick your ass." She smirked at him, "I mean, Nii-san is tough, and he taught me a lot, but it’s been a while, and the collective you haven't seen what I'm capable of anymore. Just you know.... do me a favor and let me check him first and I'm down. Also... beforehand... Did you cause that other explosion? Cause really, I can't spend a ton of time here if you didn't. I've god a cute moronic Miqo to save."

The younger manifestation lowered the staff and stepped aside to allow Ikara past to check on Lloire's unconscious form. "Too true, but don't forget... Lloire's been out to war just as long as you presumably have. Don't take this too lightly please." True to his word he would stand still and let her examine Lloire. "Also, no. We thought it was you. You've the largest pool of aether out here beyond our own. The other sources of aether out here are weaker... except one particularly bright spot further south..." His head tilted as he considered -who- she was likely speaking about. "Though, large sources of aether wouldn't help you find Beta but large explosions might. Guess that would make sense. We didn't know he was out here though." He shrugged. "Well, like I said, I can't hold back or we'll know... so I'll try and make it as fast as I can... but no promises."

Ikara was wise enough not to completely let her guard down but moved over to examine Lloire's unconscious form. She examined him as well as she could, even checking to see if he would wake with prodding. He didn't, and she obviously was looking at something with concern, 'These threads of aether tying you to him. If I hurt you, I'm hurting him. To be fair, you are only a portion of his aether, but you are an important part of his being. You won't be destroyed right?" She considered what he said about the spot further south and frowned. "If there was an explosion, I doubt that Beta caused it. He wouldn't give his position away like that... especially when there are Garleans after him... so I'm sorry but I won't be holding back either."

She jumped back and her staff spun in the air as aether pulled not from the land, or from her, but from a single crystal in her necklace. The necklace drained in but a few breaths as she unleashed one of the most powerful spells she had on the fragment of Lloire. She didn't have time to play. Those could have been Garleans killing her boyfriend and she loved her brother, but damn if she was going to let her boyfriend die cause her brother was being stupid. The magic flared bright and large with destruction so that it could be seen for several malms.

When the smoke cleared, Kid was standing in a charred crater, his staff held up as though he were blocking with it and the aether of his mana wall shimmered as the spell dissipated from absorbing the attack. Nevertheless, Flare was an impressive spell and she could see some singed edges around his clothing and armor. Another side of Lloire might have spoken here. Warned her or threatened her, but Kid understood her and knew she was only doing what she needed to in order to protect her loved ones. Instead he returned the attack. He vanished and reappeared nearly on top of her. It was completely against everything one was taught as a thaumaturge and would have been insane if he was fighting a sword wielder. With her so close, she could see the lightning flash in his eyes as his aether swelled. The first strike was a blast of lightning aether that dropped down from the sky towards her. The second was a blast of weak fire that seemed almost pointless in its intensity. Finally, he wrapped up the triple casting of spells with a much more potent fire spell as his entire aura seemed to pulse with heat. The spells complete he took a step back from her to examine their effectiveness.

Ikara honestly would have been disappointed if the first spell had done all the work. It would work for piddly little Garlean soldiers, but this was a part of her brother, and she expected more from him. There was a small smile at the fact that he had gotten his manawall up fast enough. Then again, the spell took plenty of time to cast and gave him amply time to prepare.

When he teleported right in front of her, she laughed. "You should have been a redmage, kid. Its more fun, but to be fair less destructive." to illustrate her point she stepped out of the way of the lightning blast and wacked at his nose with her staff, holding it like a rapier. Which, to be fair, wasn't nearly as quick to maneuver, but was much harder to dodge due to the size of her staff and his proximity. Soul stone or no, she had learned how to leap and fly as a red mage and those things were all body, not magic. She couldn't wield those same spells, but a quick backflip and she was out of the way of the weak fire spell, only to land at the point where he struck with the larger fire spell. It singed her hair and clothes before she managed to get up her own manawall and protect herself from the subsequent blasts.

Already she was working to cast again, though there wasn't a huge explosion this time. Instead she targeted his mind, addling his sense to weaken his spells, then attempted to put the shard to sleep.

The back to back spells struck and Kid felt his mind cloud with the enfeeblements along with the ringing in his head from the staff hit. Still, he seemed immune to sleep spells. It did allow fog his thoughts enough that he responded to her banter rather than continue incessant spellcasting. "Wasn't readily taught when I was around... I'm sure Azure can show you what Lloire's learned though." Wiping idly at his nose to ensure there was no bleeding, he only managed to fire of a scathing blast of energy from his staff as he moved away from her and she saw his aether pool into the ground as leylines became visible beneath him.

Far in the distance of the Burn the group of misfits that were wandering and looking for Ikara could see the mushroom cloud from her first flare, and the subsequent explosions of lightning, fire, and magic lighting the horizon. Aeri immediately turned to Aasifa with an accusatory look, "You do that too?" She was guessing whoever was blowing up the horizon was likely pissing off the little lizard though.

True to Aeri's thoughts, Ikara was getting annoyed. She had hoped to put Kid to sleep long enough to check and make sure her brother wasn't actually being hurt by the fight. "What? I have fight all of you? I ain't got time for that shit. You're wasting enough time as is."

She tried to examine Lloire from a distance to make sure he was still okay, and that moment of distraction gave Kid the opening that he needed to hit her with a blast of energy and make her shake her head to get her vision back. Fighting mages was a lot harder as everything was so damn bright.

Aetheric symbols swirled around her as she started to vent her frustration on the shard of her brother, "Will..." A giant glacier was dropped on him, "You..." Another one, "Just..." Another one... "Piss off!" Aether flared around her in crystalline light and she tapped another crystal in her necklace, though this one didn't drain all the way, instead only draining two thirds of the way as she dropped another huge flare of magic on Kid, then tapped the rest of that crystal and cast a second flare. The power off the flurry of spells back to back was enough to send a shockwave out in all directions.

Kid attempted to ward off the spells but was only able to block off the first set. Those crystals she wore were going to be his undoing if he didn't deprive her of them sooner rather than later. Still, his own pools of aether were rather large and he wasn't exhausting them on flares. Still, the second one she'd unleashed in a row was more than his wards could handle and the explosion blackened his staff arm, leaving it near useless. Still, he wasn't one of Lloire's sides that reacted to anger as easily, not even in the significant pain he was in now. "I... told you... Not going to make this... easy on you!"

He stood up with flames flickering out around him on the ground and took the staff into his other hand. "Enough of this..." Runes began to glow around him as he activated Enochian. "The highest tier of fire magicks he knew was unleashed where she stood, the leylines fed him aether faster and another was cast at her to follow it. "This ends now!" One more swift cast and he'd have the power built up he needed to unleash his largest spell. Another fourth-tier fireball exploded where Ikara was standing and even the group further out could feel the swelling of aether at the battleground.

Hundreds of yalms away Aasifa shot a look around him at the others, looking hurt that he'd been accused. "What? Cannot... be Aasifa, he... is needing to say ...word. Aasifa... has been... quiet. That is a war zone, ...yes?" He croaked out before he grinned widely. "Let's go... and see!" Arakiel frowned and growled but started off towards the explosions before anyone else.

Aeri glanced between Arakiel and Beta both before speeding up the pace the group had set. Which, in all honestly didn't take much as the others were in just as much of a hurry. "I get Ikara can blow shit up... but ... thats a lot of firepower." She shook her head and they all moved as quickly as they reasonably could towards the battle. Aeri had her misgivings about it, as she wasn't really feeling like being blown up in this gods forsaken place, but she had given Ara her word, and she wasn't about to go back on it now.

 Ikara got some satisfaction from Kid's blackened arm. Even thought she had said she was going to put her all into this fight, she was still doing her best to only tap the aether in her necklace as she didn't know what she would find where Beta was. "Oh for Halone's sake... you think this is easy for me? The hardest part of this is not turning the hell around and leaving you to sulk in the fact that I won't fight you. You have the WORST timing ever... I've got places to be! I'm supposed to be saving my boyfriend, not my brother. For fucks sake... worst older brother..."

Fire exploded all around her, but before he could get off all his spells she was moving. This time it was her turn to teleport to him. One moment she was where his spells were aimed, and the next she was standing on top of him and wrapping her arms around him in a bear hug, then smashing her forehead into his nose to interrupt his casting. The first fire spell missed her, the second engulfed both of them, and she aimed her knee for his family jewels when he tried to cast the last spell, aiming to knock him to the ground and just punch him in the face. The whole time she was aiming physical spells at him she was building up her own aether to counter with her own spells.

Kid didn't have a chance to respond right away, her brow had found his nose and it gave a loud crack and blood spewed from the quickly bruising part of his face. "Little brother right now!" He shouted back at her. "You're older than I was!" His aether appeared to stop wavering at all and grew very sure and still as he began reciting the last spell, his eyes locking on her with intense focus. "This ends sis!" The spell was likely one she'd not seen him cast before. It was one that Lloire had learned only recently on the frontlines. His most powerful spell was building over both their heads and it was clear that he meant to put his everything into it, even if it meant a draw and a draw meant they both lost.

Ikara was splattered with warm blood that spewed from Kid's nose, and his words hit a chord with her. It was one of those things she always forgot. She wasn't a kid anymore. She was an adult now. She mostly never felt like one, but she was. She had been through more than most kids ever went through and come across the other side. She had lived to see adulthood. The train of thought was disrupted by the pure aether building as Kid started a spell that she didn't know. She knew if he got the spell off that would be devastating for her, and for Lloire. She had to win, or Lloire would stay broken.

She wiped the blood from her face, and her vision focused on it for a moment making her realize that while it felt real, it still wasn't real. It was all aether, and one thing she was good at was controlling aether. "You're right! I am older than you. I'm an adult, and I don't need Lloire to take care of me. We take care of each other because that is what family does, but I made it this far... and I'll be fine!"

The last five crystals in her necklace started to drain as she pulled the specific types of aether from them. Earth, Air, Fire, Ice, and Lightning... the catalysts that made everything in the world. "I won't destroy you. You're a part of my brother... but I don't have to destroy you to beat you!" She started disrupting the flow of aether in Kid, pulling the elements apart, as she had done so many times with her 'paintings'. Normally she had more time, but right his moment she didn't. She poured all the aether from her necklace into rearranging the aether in this fragment of her big brother. She worked desperately fast, trying to reform him into something else. At the last moment she poured her own aether into building the strongest manawall she could and prayed to Halone to make this work. "I can take care of myself, and you're an egotistical jerk for thinking I can't manage without you!"

 The last words were spoken as his spell went off, and the aether that he was created from shifted into the form she thought of when she thought of their lessons when she was still learning how to cast the simplest spells.

Kid seemed to know that he'd lost in that moment. Despite the spell above them and his own aether breaking down, he smiled. "Good. Remember that... And learn the lesson it took us this long to start to learn..."

Ikara grit her teeth and forced the last strands of aether into place where she wanted them, just as the spell overhead exploded. It could be seen for malms and malms around.

[artificialqueens]

Overpowered Part 3 (Branjie)-athena2

A/N: Thank you all for the great feedback on Chapter 2! This chapter is a little angsty, but I hope you like it! Any feedback you have would be amazing, it really means a lot to me. ***This chapter has a mild panic attack, implied abuse, and discussion of medication.*** I also made some Brooke and Vanessa moodboards for this fic! Find them on my tumblr @buffywhovianpotterlock.

I’m surprised you’re still functioning.

We made the drugs that made you.

Precious little Frost.

She throws the weighted blanket off with a sigh, Vanessa following. “Can’t sleep either?”

Brooke shakes her head.

“I want to read it now.” She’s been tossing and turning since she told Vanessa she was ready, and she’s ready now. She has to know. She digs through her dresser.

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. You’ll do it with me? Please?”

Brooke can lift a car over her head, but nothing could ever be heavier than this folder.

“Of course.” They drop down at the kitchen table.

Brooke has been picturing this moment since she asked Nina for advice, the older woman’s voice filling her head.

The file might give you some closure. But, given what happened last time, it’s likely it could cause another flashback. We could look at it here, or you can do it on your own if you’d like, but be aware you might respond negatively.

It’s what she figured Nina would say, an answer that wasn’t really an answer.

“Tell me if it’s too much, okay? Promise?” Vanessa asks, grabbing her hand.

“Promise.”

Her free hand flips the folder open. The vaguely familiar words burn her eyes as she wades through medical terms of the injuries from the plane crash last March. A broken leg, broken arm, 3 broken ribs, collapsed lung, internal bleeding, and several cuts to her body. Does she feel the pain from those broken bones now, or is she imagining it? She touches the thick white scar on her chest absently.

She suddenly remembers a drainage tube between her ribs (she has a small scar there too) and the long scar down her chest, and white tabs stuck to her skin, connected to monitors that beeped piercingly, and pain like someone had carved her chest open and pieced it together with Scotch tape. Then the doctor put something in her IV, and it all went black.

“You good?”

Brooke jumps. She’d forgotten Vanessa was there. “Yeah. So far it’s just what happened after the crash.”

Subject name removed from flight list. No survivors. Flight list not released, subject will be presumed dead if any inquiries. Subject’s public records here (pgs 2-8), scrubbed from databases.

She turns the page. Scans of her birth certificate and driver’s license. She’s Canadian? A fight between her and Vanjie runs through her head, Vanjie grinning and teasing her for saying “soar-y”.

Newspaper clippings. Maybe there’s something about her before, or her family— she hits two obituaries. Her parents. She can’t read the rest. She just can’t.

Brooke should feel something, she knows she should. But she can’t remember. Nothing at all, not even a flash. It’s just an empty space inside her where she knows the memories should be.

She moves on hastily. Hytes New Co-Director of Toronto Ballet Company. She remembers the feeling of her feet in ballet shoes, but co-director?

The clippings are ghosts of her old life and she can’t take the haunting anymore. Brooke moves to lists of dates, starting when they took her and continuing until this summer. Her dosages, her exams, her training, her missions. The first rows cover her progress healing and responding to the drugs. Drugs that the two men she met hours ago had made for her and countless others. Her stomach twists painfully and she jumps ahead.

5/30/2018: Subject at healthy weight, physically approved to begin training. 10% accuracy with ice blasts.

Brooke remembers the row of bright red targets. His voice thunders in her ears. “You have until October to get half those targets.” It’s a command.

8/13/2018: Subject having nightmares, inquiring about old life. Subject sedated, given 100mg dosage in IV overnight. Had no memory of asking questions after waking.

She skips over training logs, punishments, and medical data. It’s like reading about someone else. She has vague images of the events, but they’re getting stronger and clearer as she reads.

 10/1/2018: Subject achieved 65% target accuracy, no punishment required.

“Maybe that’s enough.”

“I’m f-fine.”

11/19/2018: Training complete. 100% accuracy, blast strength increased. Dosage (10mg) steady and effective. Subject compliant and approved for field missions.

It’s all here. Labs she’d broken into. Weapons and technology she’d stolen. Every injury, every new drug sample. Records of fights with Black Diamond, with Shuga Rush, with–her heart skips a beat–Vanjie.

And the last one. The very last one before Vanessa saved her and took her away from them.

7/7/2019: Vitals steady. Subject compliant. Dosage to remain doubled until further notice.

“Brooke?” She can hardly hear Vanessa.

“These are all the bad things I did. ”

“Baby, no. Those things weren’t you.”

She shakes her head, heart straining her chest.

“You want to make us proud on your first mission, don’t you?”

She nods.

“Remember, if you fail, that’s bad. You know what happens when you’re bad.”

“I won’t fail, General.”

“Brooke!”

Her lungs are on fire, burning all her air. 5 things she can see.

She sees the kitchen wall across from her but it’s tilted–Vanessa is holding her tightly, stopping her from falling off the chair she’s half-out of. She pulls herself upright, eyes absorbing the wooden table as her breathing slows.

“Are you okay?” Vanessa tenderly brushes sweaty hair off Brooke’s forehead.

“Y-Yeah.”

“You need to get some sleep.”

“So do you,” Brooke says quietly. All Vanessa does is take care of her, worry about her, and Brooke knows she hasn’t done enough to help, especially with the vision. Vanessa’s been through bad shit like her and is suffering in ways Brooke can’t imagine, but she’s always so strong, iron forged in fire–

“Less thinking, more sleeping,” Vanessa insists, leading Brooke to bed.

Their bodies intertwine under the blankets, but neither sleeps. —

“Brooke, come here!” Vanessa yells around a mouthful of pumpkin brownie, tapping on the window.

On the street below, a sea of kids in bright colors weave in and out of pumpkins and decorations. She doesn’t know what she’s supposed to look at, until-

“Are they…”

Vanessa nods.

Two little girls head down the sidewalk. One wears a red suit with a V on the chest, the other in familiar royal blue, and she can just see the neon F.

“We’re legit heroes now, baby,” Vanessa grins, but her tears mirror Brooke’s own.

Their lips meet and Vanessa tastes like chocolate.

She thinks it’s the first time they’ve both forgotten about the vision. —

There’s been small earthquakes and electrical damage around the city, but no sightings of Quake or Shockwave.

Their nights are spent tackling common criminals beneath an inky sky.

She watches Vanjie scream at robbers and would-be murderers while desperately beating the crap out of them like it’s the only thing reminding her she’s still alive. The only thing keeping her alive.

Vanessa is suffering but Brooke has no idea how to help.

It’s like watching someone drown but being unable to save them.

Vanessa isn’t eating. Her eyes are rimmed with shadows. Her skin is painted purple and blue from all the fighting.

She doesn’t want to talk about it, and Brooke doesn’t want to force her.

Vanessa is close to breaking, and as much as Brooke wants to shatter, she can’t.

Sometimes she can’t even look at Vanessa without wanting to cry because she may never see her again.

Brooke’s heart is made of glass, but she needs to let it ice over before Vanessa burns herself out.

Because even though they have time, Brooke feels like she’s losing Vanessa already. —

It’s probably a stupid idea, but it has A’Keria’s blessing, so there’s hope.

Brooke works while Vanessa showers. She moves chairs and couch cushions and blankets until she has a sturdy blanket fort. She arranges fluffy pillows underneath, lays out the potato-chip cookies she’d made, and gets The Notebook set up.

Brooke is waiting when she emerges from the bathroom in her pajamas. “I have a surprise,” she says, covering Vanessa’s eyes. “Sorry about the cold hands.”

“I’m used to it. And there better not be any haunted house shit in here. Halloween’s over.”

“Nothing scary, I promise.” She removes her hands and watches Vanessa’s eyes get big, Brooke’s heart growing with them.

“Brooke.” Her hand goes to her mouth. “How did you…A’Keria,” she answers herself as she slides under the fort. “Damn. I love you so much. I don’t know how I got this lucky.”

“I’m the lucky one,” Brooke says as she nestles beside her. “So, um, I wanted to ask how you’re doing? Be honest.”

Vanessa shrugs and stares at the cookies. Brooke’s never seen her at such a loss for words. “I…I don’t know. I’m pissed–not at Yvie, it’s not her fault–but at everything, I guess, and I’m confused and sad and really fucking tired of it all, honestly.”

Brooke nods. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through. But if you want to talk-”

“I know you want to help, but I don’t want to talk. Please.” Her voice gets small and Brooke’s heart aches for her. “I usually love screaming about my problems and feelings and shit, and I know everyone thinks it’ll help to talk about it, but I just can’t. I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed.”

“It’s fine,” she sighs. “I just want to watch this movie and have you hold me.”

“Of course.” She presses play as Vanessa curls into her side, Brooke’s arms steadying around her, feeling how tense she is.

It didn’t go quite as she planned, but Vanessa falls asleep with a smile on her face, so it wasn’t a total failure. —

“You seem a little distracted. Anything you want to talk about?” Nina’s voice drips with concern and Brooke wants to tell her. She should tell her.

She shrugs, fingers digging into the squeeze ball.

“Anything at all?”

“Meds,” Brooke mumbles, finally bringing them up like she’d told Vanessa she would a month ago.

“Something in particular about them?”

Another shrug.

“Can you give me a little something to go on?” Nina asks gently.

“I think I want to take them,” Brooke says eventually, eyes on her lap.

If Nina is surprised, she hides it well. “Okay. Did something happen that caused you to want them? You seem a little hesitant, and I want to make sure you’re confident and comfortable before I prescribe anything.”

She’s about to shrug again when she can’t keep it quiet anymore. “I…I’m just sick of it! I’m sick of sweating in the grocery store and thinking I’m gonna have a heart attack when I leave the house! I’m sick of the panic attacks and the headaches and not sleeping and I…” The outburst quickly drains her and her next words are a whisper. “I just want to be better.”

Nina is quiet.

“I’m s–I’m sorry I yelled. I didn’t mean to.”

“You don’t have to apologize for feeling.” Nina pauses. “Brooke, I’m so incredibly proud of you. I want to say that first because I think you need to hear it.”

Tears spring in Brooke’s eyes. Nina was proud of her.

“I understand why you’re upset, and why you’re scared. Anyone would be after what you’ve been through. But if you feel ready, I do think medication would help you.”

“But if I…” Her voice trembles as she releases a fear she hasn’t even told Vanessa. “If I take them, doesn’t it mean I’m not good enough? That I’m weak?”

“Oh, Brooke,” Nina says softly, and her eyes look slightly damp. “Not at all. You’re doing so well. There’s absolutely no shame in needing help. Asking for help and taking medication shows how strong you are, how hard you’re working to get better.”

Nina passes her the tissues and Brooke no longer hides her tears. “I’m ready,” she confirms.

Nina smiles. “There’s one more thing I want you to try.”

Brooke raises an eyebrow.

“I want you to try not to apologize when you’re here.”

Nina might as well have asked her to pilot a rocketship.

“I know it’s a lot, and I don’t expect you to do it immediately,” Nina amends at Brooke’s bewildered expression. “It’s just something I want you to try.”

Brooke nods.

“And Happy Thanksgiving!” Nina crows. —

She and Vanessa wake at sunrise.

“Please tell me you don’t play Monopoly on Thanksgiving,” Brooke begs as they season the turkey.

“Oh no, that’s for birthdays only.”

“Thank God.”

“On Thanksgiving and Christmas we do bingo.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad.”

“Mmm, you haven’t played with Silk. The bitch uses six cards. She used to keep a marker in her pocket and change the numbers. And she has to call out the numbers herself because she doesn’t trust us.”

“So I guess I’ll hide the valuables?”

Vanessa laughs and kisses her cheek.

Brooke knows what she’s thankful for. —

Silk barges in an hour early presenting her sweet potato casserole like it’s made of gold.

“Thank God we got Brooke to make the pies. Last year A’Keria was in her health-food phase and tried to poison us with low-fat nonsense,” Silk grumbles. “I almost wasted away.”

“And she brought that green shit white people love,” Vanessa adds.

“Kale?” Brooke guesses.

“That’s it.”

“She better not mess with my mashed potatoes. Last year she put cauliflower in them. Says you can’t taste the difference. Believe me,” Silk pats her chest proudly, “I can taste it.” —

“Everything good here?” A’Keria checks, glancing at the food covering every inch of counter surface.

“Yeah, I just hope Scarlet and Yvie like it.”

“Girl, you could go on the Food Network,” she declares, pointing to the pie-crust leaves on top of the pumpkin pie. “Everyone’s gonna love it.” A’Keria pats her arm in reassurance and the calm runs through her immediately. Brooke smiles in thanks, and A’Keria winks. —

“A’Keria, these potatoes are so good. What the hell is in them?” Yvie asks and Silk nods with her mouth full of them.

“Just butter and cream.” She pauses, grinning devilishly at Silk. “And cauliflower.”

Silk almost chokes. “You lying hoe!” She grabs a serving spoon and chases A’Keria around the table while the rest of them roar with laughter.

Brooke catches Vanessa’s eye, and she knows they’re thinking the same thing: Please don’t ever let this end. —

After a 2-hour bingo game resulting in 3 ripped cards, 2 spilled cups of coffee, one marker hurled out the window, Yvie flinging whipped cream in Scarlet’s hair, Silk almost swallowing a bingo ball, Brooke launching walnut shells like missiles, and Vanessa’s pumpkin pie fork nearly taking out A’Keria’s eye, everyone heads home.

“Brooke, I almost forgot,” Silk says as she leaves. “That Plastique girl? I found her.” —

She bounces her leg in her and Vanessa’s favorite coffee shop, because Nina had suggested they go somewhere she felt comfortable.

“You okay?” Vanessa asks. Brooke felt fine doing this without Nina, but there’s no way she’s doing it without Vanessa, even though Brooke feels guilty for dragging her along to something about her when they could be focusing on Vanessa.

“Yeah. It’s…she knew me before, you know? Not me now. And I’m not who I used to be. I don’t even know who I used to be.”

“Well, maybe you can’t focus on who you were. Because you are who you are now, and you don’t need to be anyone else. And for the record, I like who you are now a whole lot,” Vanessa bats her eyelashes and Brooke feels warmth spread through her.

Plastique looks exactly like she did in Brooke’s dreams–long black hair and a face so delicate it could be a doll’s.

She bursts into tears when she sees Brooke, touching her arm like she can’t believe she’s real. Which she probably can’t, Brooke realizes. She thought I was dead.

She gives Plastique the Silk-approved story: Brooke survived the plane crash with severe memory loss, met Vanessa, and has been trying to regain her memory. It’s not a total lie, but Brooke still sweats as she tells it, even though Plastique believes it and cries again halfway through.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t look for you. They said no one survived and I never thought…”

“Of course you didn’t. There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“Brooke, it’s my fault you were on the plane,” Plastique says suddenly, voice thick.

“What do you mean?”

“I was supposed to be on it, but there was a mix-up and there wasn’t enough seats, so I was gonna take a later flight. You wanted to stay with me, but I told you to go…”

For just a second, Brooke considers how easy it would be. To blame Plastique, to have someone to hate for putting her on that plane and in the lab’s hands. But she can’t. It’s not Plastique’s fault, just like it’s not her fault. Nina always tells her it’s no one’s fault but the lab’s, and it’s never felt as true as it does now.

“No,” Brooke says firmly. “Nina–she’s my psychiatrist–she told me if you wouldn’t blame someone else for something, you shouldn’t blame yourself for it either. It wasn’t your fault, I promise you,” Brooke’s voice is fierce as she grips Plastique’s hand.

Plastique nods, wiping her tears.

Plastique had been an intern at the ballet company that Brooke was co-director of. Brooke had danced professionally with the same company for 6 years. She was leaving on her first tour as co-director when the plane went down.

Vanessa’s eyes silently ask if she remembers any of this. She remembers twirling across a stage, costumes light against her skin. She remembers feeling free.

Plastique pulls out her phone. “Here’s a picture of you when you danced.”

Brooke sees herself on the screen but can’t quite believe it’s her. She’s in white from her tiara to her pointe shoes, lacey costume on her lean body, hair pulled into a bun. She looks confident, so far from the Brooke who flinches at loud noises and stutters when ordering food that they’re hardly the same person.

“I’m loving this short hair on you, girl. You cut it right before the tour. I’m glad you kept it,” Plastique says.

Brooke’s never thought about it. It was short when she woke up at the lab, and they had kept it like that so it wasn’t in the way for her training or their medical exams. She likes it short and A’Keria trims it for her.

They talk for another hour, and Plastique promises to keep in touch.

Brooke is quiet on the way home, her mind buzzing.

“You alright?” Vanessa asks. “That was probably a lot, huh?”

She nods. She doesn’t know if she should miss the Brooke in that picture when she doesn’t really know that person. She doesn’t know if she should try to be more like that Brooke.

She thinks of what Vanessa said. Maybe it’s not about who she was. Maybe she doesn’t need to be anyone else.

Just being herself is enough. —

The last day of November dawns unusually bright.

Brooke stands over the sink with a pill in her hand. She looks out the window and her stomach drops, pill slipping through her fingers.

She feels the urge to run outside, let the flakes melt on her tongue, let the cold steal her breath and freeze her cheeks.

But she doesn’t.

Because it’s the first snowfall of the season, and they’re running out of time.

[enneagramspam]

SAMANTHA BARNES

9w8

“I didn’t know what it would be like…. Caring about people. People who are alive. How wonderful and terrifying it all is. I didn’t know that my actions could have consequences because they never did before. Not since…well. I never had an effect on the world around me. And I got used to that. But that hasn’t been true for a while now…” 

Sam is introduced in The Bright Sessions as so deeply disintegrated, she appears very much like a Six- incredibly anxious, obsessed with anticipating and managing possible threats, so desperate to avoid conflicts- internal and external- that she self-isolates to the point that she rarely leaves the house and has no social relationships to speak of. As an unhealthy Nine, she struggles with asserting herself and has difficulties with change that result in an inertia that pervades every aspect of her life, despite, as Dr Bright puts it, a great desire to find “order in the chaos,” and to create lasting peace of mind for herself and her loved ones. While as the series progresses, she goes on to confront her basic fears and move in the direction of her basic desires, proceeding generally towards integration, the stressors she faces contribute to disintegrated behaviour displayed even late into the series. 

Basic Desire: To have inner stability "peace of mind"

“I have an Olympic gold medal in shutting myself off from the world.”

Like many Nines, Sam is often extremely conflict averse. Indeed, she’s introduced as diffident and eager to please;

“I’m Sam, Samantha, my name is Samantha Barnes but you can call me Sam. Or Samantha. Either one is fine, whatever you’re comfortable with. It’s your office.”

Sam’s tendency to self-isolate is not only a result of her fear of loss, but a result of that desire for “peace of mind,”- Sam’s anxiety disorder is severe enough to be triggered by mundane things, and she finds herself “nervous” about day-to-day activities including “grocery shopping,” and “talking to people,”- so she does what so many Nines do, and turns to avoidance as much as possible. For instance, she mentions no longer being able to attend the cinema because the darkness and noise is triggering, and only makes microwave meals in case she time-travels while using the stove and burns her house down. Even her time-travel itself, as much stress as it causes her, is a manifestation of her desire for stability, and dictated by her inner landscape;

Dr Bright: “I think the [time travel is] your body’s way of trying to calm down during a panic attack. When you’re in emotional or physical turmoil, your body transports you to a different place that it deems safe. As if it's choosing flight over fight…”

Sam: “So I’m basically just always trying to find calm.”

It’s important to note that at first, Sam enjoys her “visits,” to different time periods as welcome escapes from the stresses of her everyday life. This atypical coping mechanism is comparable to the fantasies and daydreams real life Nines will often retreat into. 

However, somewhat unusually for a Nine, Sam is well aware of her state of inertia from the start of the story and she repeatedly expresses a desire to break out of it;

“I’m tired of waiting

I’m tired of hiding

I’m tired of wanting,”

Her way of living, fine-tuned as it is to avoid conflict wherever possible, becomes in and of itself a source of internal conflict in an unhappy, self-perpetuating cycle;

“When I [time travel], I’m nowhere. I’m invisible. I’m no one. And it’s not better here [in the present], where I have no life, no friends. I don’t exist anywhere! I’m so scared of everything and I’m starting. To lose. My mind!”

It’s Sam’s desire for genuine internal stability that necessitates that she abandon her dependence on avoidance and self-isolation. Nines are often described as being “asleep,” both to their true nature and the world around them. Apart from comparing living her life to “sleepwalking,” this pervasive numbness is something Sam struggles with- her lifestyle leaves her feeling like “[her] brain [isn’t] being fully used.” While she was aware of it, it took meeting Mark, whom she describes as her “catalyst,” to change her behaviour and mindset.

“Working with Joan, and meeting you, and saving you it- it woke me up. It gave me a purpose…”

“I think somewhere amongst all the tragedy, and the panic, and the loneliness, I forgot how to be a person. Or, at least, the person I can be. And now I feel like I’m waking up for the first time in a decade.”

 It takes a glimpse of that reflection of her self-imprisonment in Mark, confined against his will, (“I know what that’s like - to be trapped like that,”) to prompt the realisation that the only way out is through, and spur her into action in efforts to achieve peace in the long term for the pair of them;

“I’ve spent my whole life afraid, it’s nothing new. I’m not going to walk away. Even before talking to him, I could have never lived with myself if I let someone rot in the past like that. Now that I have talked to him, well, I want to get him out as much as you do.”

Coming to terms with her own agency is a frightening process for her, as she herself admits;

Sam: “Whatever I am, I think what’s important is that I finally have options.” 

Chloe: “And that’s terrifying on its own.”

Sam: “Right. “

Chloe: “But it’s not terrifying in the same way as before.”

Sam: “No.”

It invites conflict in a way that undermines her inner stability, but, crucially, she begins to recognise that standing still has done the same. Compounded with the other stresses she faces throughout the series, Sam is left between a rock and a hard place, due to the conflict that arises when, to achieve her basic desire, she must confront her basic fear;

“I’m- I'm just stuck. But I don’t want to wait anymore. I want to move forward with you but I have no idea how. So I just keep pretending. I keep pretending that I know what I’m doing, that I’m confident in my decisions, that I know how to help…. I’m just- I'm not sure I’ve ever been this lost.”

Basic Fear: Of loss and separation

“I’ve been sleepwalking through my life - just waiting for the other shoe to drop, to get stuck, or to hurt someone again, or for someone to find out about me and lock me up and experiment on me- god, I'm sorry.”

After the loss of her parents, Sam approaches her life in terms of mitigating the risks of potential personal losses. Consumed by this worry, she begins the series afraid to form attachments at all, living in fear of the possible impact of her uncontrollable time-travelling episodes, concerned that they could drive others away or bring harm to them.

Dr. Bright: “And no one has even seen this happen?”

Sam: “Um, I just tend to avoid…um. People.”

As time-travelling causes her to disappear without warning, they are by their nature a sort of forcible, unpredictable separation, and as such, force her to live with the threat of her basic fear constantly;

“I’m terrified all the time. When I’m not actively disappearing I’m worried about disappearing. I’m worried about, about being caught, about hurting someone, about not coming back.”

The death of her parents-  the result of a car accident when she vanishes from the driver’s seat- is what causes Sam’s basic fear to become entangled with her time-travelling to begin with, causing her to live in a state of extreme anxiety, functioning much of the time more like an unhealthy Six than a Nine. Even after her parents’ deaths, much of Sam’s life is dictated by a fear of losing her memories of, and feelings of closeness to, her late parents- a fear, by own admission, of a further loss, despite the fact that she has already “lost,” them in the physical sense;

 “Don’t you get it? I can’t lose them again. I owe it to them to remember.”

Ultimately, this fear leads Sam to shape her life around remaining close to them, which further perpetuates her own isolation;

“I’m just a ghost, haunting this city, moving their things from house to house like some sort of shrine. That’s— I know. I know how bad that is. I’ve been living with the dead for so long - in my house, in the past, in my own head...”

The idea of moving away from the area where they raised her is anxiety-inducing enough to send her into a panic attack. This fear of change pervades other relationships in Sam’s life as well; while visiting Mark, still, trapped in the past, she neglects to tell him that she is working on a solution with his sister ostensibly because of the potential conflict and complications to their relationship that conversation might involve; 

Chloe: “I get it. You don’t want to burst the little bubble you guys are in.”

Sam: “Yeah. I’ve vaguely mentioned that I’m looking into solutions. But I haven’t wanted to make it seem too real, yet. I’ll tell him once we get it all figured out. Once we feel as confident as we can that it’ll work. I just, I don’t want to make promises to him I can’t keep. I don’t think I could stand to disappoint him.”

This is one of the earlier instances of Sam deliberately sweeping problems under the rug to avoid the potential turmoil and loss of relationship conflict, a pattern which continues particularly as her Eight wing starts to become more pronounced.

When Sam does find new relationships, much of her energy becomes invested towards trying to ensure she won’t lose the comfort they introduce to her life and the people she cares for- her relationship with Mark is arguably largely defined by her desire not to lose him; 

“I’m scared for you. I just want to keep you safe.”

Her nightmares reflect these fears- in Episode 50: Rose, she has a dream during which she- quite literally- loses Mark in their new home, and suffers a panic attack upon being unable to find him and she goes on to express a belief that losing him is in fact, an inevitability;

“He’s just like everyone else,

He’ll soon be in your past,” 

Though he makes her “want to believe,” she describes this as a “want to be foolish”- her experiences have led her to believe the idea of keeping Mark is an unattainable dream- more of an expectation than a fear. The dread that comes with this supposed inevitably remains intense late into the series, and contributes to the breakdown of their relationship;

 “I love you and it’s…it's like having a stomach ache all the time. And I keep doing things to try and make it less painful and none of it works. Because you’re you and I’m me and our lives are just filled with uncertainty and danger.”

The potential loss is all she can focus on- to the point that she loses the peace and stability being with Mark previously brought her- being in love with him is “a stomach ache,”- in this state of disintegration, Sam’s basic fears are so overpowering that her basic desires are completely out of her reach. To avoid this situation precisely, Sam, who understands that life is inherently rife with both internal and external conflict, tries to acknowledge and accept her fears;

“Dr. Bright and I have spent a lot of time talking about acceptance. She’s told me that, even if I do get my ability totally under control, I might still have the occasional panic attack and leave without meaning to. And that I should try to accept that. Life is going to be stressful. Bad things are going to happen. It’s about how you respond that matters and that’s- that's what I’m trying to figure out.”

But this still isn’t something she has fully come to terms with by the end of The Bright Sessions, leading her to make mistakes in her desperation to control her circumstances and hold onto that which she fears to lose.

Disintegration to Six:

“It’s about survival, Sam // Never let down your guard,”

As aforementioned, Sam spends much of her life seriously disintegrated, and isolating herself out of fear. Dr. Bright describes the Sam she first meets as “malleable and desperate,” lacking “trust in herself,”- the caricature of an unhealthy Six. Gripped by an anxiety disorder, threat-obsessed, and in dire need of support, latching onto Dr. Bright even as she maintains a deep suspicion of her, Sam has all the hallmarks. Beginning to establish supportive relationships, her anxious tendencies do lessen a bit- but they are so familiar and habitual to her that she practically defines herself by them. It even becomes something of a running joke between her and Mark;

“You know, you can take the cape off for a day, Anxiety Girl. The world is not going to crumble around you ... No, no, it’s alright. You’re always preparing for the worst, I get it.”

 Her desire to protect is something that ties into her Eight wing (see below) but her constant vigilance and her distrust towards authorities such as the A.M. which underpin this desire are an unsurprising symptom of her disintegration, as is the ‘us vs. them,’ viewpoint and perception of constant danger- though, admittedly, it’s somewhat justified given her circumstances.

Sam: “You’re asking me to retreat. I’ve done that too many times before—”

Mark: “Retreat? It's not a war, Sam—”

Sam: “It kind of is. And I have a family to protect—”

Integration to Three: 

“I do want to do something with my life. Something productive, worthwhile.”

During The Bright Sessions, Sam doesn’t have much opportunity to demonstrate how she would look when integrated. By the end of the series, she still reacts with knee-jerk worry in the face of potential conflict; 

Dr. Bright: “Is that a slight against my scotch supply?”

Sam: “No, no, god— I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”  

But by no means is she quite as averse to it as she was to begin with; 

Sam: “You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”

Sam begins to show tendencies of the healthy Three, becoming more self-developing and energetic, when she finds a project- namely, the improvement of the A.M.- to which she can lend her expertise and strengths. Early in the series, she describes herself as being tired of adventures- but newly ambitious, she begins to take a different tune;

 Dr. Bright: “Do you think you’re ready? For another new adventure?”

Sam: “Yeah, I think I am.”

  w8:

“Imagine what I could do if I was trying, if I had full control.” 

At the start of the series, Sam feels completely out of control, like any unhealthy Eight- she views herself as at the mercy of her time travel and her anxiety disorder. In this desperate situation, her self-isolation is an effort at maintaining control in the only way that she believes she can. Dr. Bright recognises this desire for control, and appeals to it when trying to convince her to harness her powers.

“You can learn to control it.” 

And as the series draws on, Sam becomes very occupied the idea (“I want to take control,”) and her Eight-wing becomes more and more apparent. When she gains some control over her ability, she soon becomes frustrated that she can’t have complete control over it- this is something she has to “try to accept.” This desire for perfect control after dealing with a complete lack of it for years might seem counterintuitive, or even ungrateful, but it demonstrates the importance of control as a motivator for Sam, and more critically, her fundamental discomfort confronting a lack of it. 

Like many Nines, Sam is initially out of touch with her anger, to the point that it’s something she jokes about;

“I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. Well, you know, if I had enemies, that is.”

But when given proper incentive, she begins to exhibit the “intense eruption[s] of anger,” common to Nines who typically default to repressing it, and especially to Nines with an Eight wing- as when she punches Damien after he abducts Mark, surprising herself and those around her. In comparison with Nines, Eights are typically far more familiar with their tempers, and nothing is as likely to provoke them as the feeling that they (or their loved ones) are being manipulated or controlled against their will. Sam repeatedly lashes out in reaction to precisely this fear- early on in the series when she feels “manipulated,” by Dr. Bright, for example, and towards anyone who contributed to confining or controlling Mark (Dr. Bright again during Zero Hour, and Agent Green when he starts to “check up on” her.) 

Also like a typical Eight, Sam shows repeated reluctance when it comes to expressing vulnerability- she has issues talking openly with Mark and while she initially describes his respect for her privacy to Chloe as one of the reasons why she likes him, her self-described habit of “keeping [him] at arm’s length,” becomes a problem when they enter a genuine relationship, contributing to the communication issues between the pair of them; 

“I love you so much. Do you know that? No, I mean, how could you, it’s not like I’ve ever told you.”

More importantly, Sam’s desire and subsequent efforts to maintain control over her newly dangerous environment eventually lead her to go, in her own words, “full tilt control freak.” Enneagram Institute describes this as a need “to keep the environment, and especially other people, from hurting them and those they care about,” all the while cloaked “in a layer of emotional armor.” Sam likens herself repeatedly to Mark’s “knight in shining armor,”- at first seemingly jokingly, but it’s a role she takes to heart- usually revisited when she perceives that she has failed to keep him safe- and eventually she extends the metaphor to include “dragon[s]”- the potential dangers posed by the various people threatening Mark’s safety;

Mark: “You were still my knight in shining armor. You saved me from the dragon.”

Sam: “But what if there are other dragons? I don’t know how to fight every kind of dragon, you know? If I don’t know what kind of fire they breathe or how resistant you are to that fire—”

Mark: “This metaphor is getting away from you, babe—”

Sam: “I need to know how to keep you safe. And I don’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable - I know there are things that you don’t want to talk about and I respect that but-”

It’s the unfortunate combination of her desire to maintain control as a result of her Eight wing, and her tendencies away from interpersonal conflict and vulnerability as a Nine with an Eight wing specifically, that lead her to violate Mark’s privacy in the manner that she does- time travelling into the past to observe his personal traumas at the AM and contacting Damien, both without his consent or knowledge, rather than confronting him directly. She does come to realise that she’s becoming an embodiment of exactly that which she fears, undermining the autonomy of those she loves, and hurting them in the process;

Sam: “This isn’t— I’m not this person. I don’t want to be this person.”

Damien: “And what person is that?”

Sam: “The kind that tries to make decisions for other people. I can’t do this.”

Returning, even, to the armor metaphor, realising at last the fundamental flaw in her approach;

“I’ve just been grasping at anything that I could use as armor even if it meant leaving somebody else defenseless.”

“I don’t want to lose him but, even more than that, I don’t want to hurt him.”

What this fear of and desire for control betrays is an unusually well developed Eight-wing, most likely forged in the crucible of what Dr. Bright describes as “loss, and wars, and repeated physical traumas in the form of time manipulation,”- the absence of safety that builds an Eight. It is this same set of experiences and traits that lends Sam genuine strength and willpower that allows her to lead and effectively protect her loved ones in better circumstances. In Safe House, her efforts to take charge of the situation offers a glimpse of her potential, and by the time The AM Archives takes place, she is able to call upon her assertiveness in times of crisis, encouraging Mags and keeping mostly collected in the face of extreme danger. But throughout most of The Bright Sessions itself, Sam’s Eight wing generally manifests in ways that ultimately cause damage to her relationship with herself and those around her. 

[slasherkisss]

Cabin Fever - Jason Voorhees x Reader [Chapter 1]

Summary In an effort to remove yourself from your previous life in the big city, you move to Crystal Lake. The cabin you had inherited from your father makes the perfect place for a fresh start, however, there is a secret in these woods (and within yourself) that you must come to accept...and to love. 

A/N My first chapter of a Jason story that’s been weighing heavily on my mind as of late. Also a sort of ‘writing christening’ to this new blog! I’ll hopefully be updating this as I go/in between asks. I hope you all enjoy it! This first chapter is mostly exposition, but, set up is necessary for stories at times don’t you think?

You had visited the cabin up at Crystal Lake with your father every winter for as long as you could remember. Despite it belonging to his employer up until the most recent months, it felt like home. The smell of moss and freshly chopped wood made your senses more at ease than the scent of smog and churning machinery. Most of your days were spent tending to the cabin’s upkeep as well as the maintenance of the garden in its backyard. You feel selfish and, perhaps, a bit egotistical in admitting that you had always known that it would find its way into your possession one way or another.

You feel less remorseful than you should, though, in knowing that it took two deaths for you to be able to receive it.

The first was the original owner of the cabin. Your father’s boss had always been a man of delicate emotional standing. After his wife had fallen ill and decided it better to take control of her own life by driving her car off of a cliff, he had tried his hardest to move on and continue with the job turned duty of living to carry on her memory. It was your father who had originally suspected that the man would not last longer than a year. Grimly, you could only agree with him and wait. When both of you were proven right, you were surprised again to see that the cabin had been left to your father in the other man’s will, calling him a brother amongst employees and thanking him for his support in trying times. That had been the first and only time you had seen your father cry. Tears of emotion like runs of rain etched in canvas lining down his face. The sight had made you cry too.

When your father died you had also expected this, but, that did not make it any less heart wrenching. The blood cancer that had plagued him for the later years of his life caught up to him in one fell swoop, sending him to a hospital where he died not days later. You couldn’t remember crying as hard as you did in the hospital room that night when the doctor’s pronounced him officially dead. You still had his obituary report tucked away in the pages of a sketchbook, taped against a canvas of nightmare doodles and eldritch terrors. The knowledge of his death was painful. You had felt your heart rip in two pieces that night, but, it was also eye opening. To therapists, perhaps, it was eye-opening in the worst kind of ways but you had no interest in sharing your emotions with anyone regardless of if your family thought it was a good idea or not.

Life was limited. You would die and, should you dare love anyone as much as you loved your father, they would die too.

You had no choice but to live with your mother and stepfather after the passing of your father, too poor to afford rent or fuel to drive anywhere too far away, you found yourself trapped in a house that only served to further your isolation into yourself. Though your mother tried to encourage you to go out and see friends, perhaps even a therapist, you never did so. Your stepfather encouraged natural medications and herbs, pumping your body with teas and vitamins he imported from one part of the country or another, but you always hid them away instead of taking them like he told you to.

Fights were more common than not. They would argue you with you, plead with you, to pull your head from the clouds.  Your warped ideas of life and death ate away at you like a parasite, disconnecting you from reality. It shone in your job as you talked to customers in a monotone voice and shared no smiles or bouts of stories and laughter as you did when you first started. Your managers called you into the office and gave you multiple warnings, letting it go at first as grief for losing such a close family member so suddenly. Whatever friends you had before the funeral were gone now, pushed to the side in the window of unread messages and missed calls. You had disconnected your phone completely at some point, though, you couldn’t quite remember just when.

There was that too. The fogginess of your memory as every day was spent in a stupor of disconnected, warped, and malfunctioning reality. The world was never the right shade of blues or blacks. Ceiling fans swung too fast. You were afraid they would fly off the hinges and decapitate you. Food became unnatural poison that you never trusted unless you bought the ingredients and cooked it for yourself. Your stepfather’s insistences to take the vitamins he offered you became threats of poison if you did not stay in your room though the words he mouthed and the words in your head never seemed to quite match up. The world of the city you lived in became too fast-paced. Too overwhelming. The noise of airplanes flying overhead or cars in the nearby freeway zooming by gave you anxiety. Your heart ached at the mere idea of stepping food out into a world where there was nothing but noise.

It was when you were searching through old pictures of you and your father that you remembered the cabin. You remembered your technical ownership of it now and, with a joyous leap of hope in your heart, you remembered the quiet and self sustaining style that you and your father lived in every winter.

Saving up for the trip from your bustling city home was manageable enough, but, it was the leaving that was the hardest part. Suitcases in the car and last bag wrapped firmly in your whitening knuckles, you could still register the screaming sobs of your mother as you left the home you all shared.

“Running from your life won’t help you, [Y/N]!”

“You’re only going to get worse if you keep this up!”

“Please come back inside, you’re scaring me!”

“[Y/N]!”

You left without heading her warnings, rage bubbling inside of you of her view of the situation. She saw it as running away from your problems. Fleeing your life to hide like a sick dog and lick your wounds until death. You saw nothing of the sort. This trip, this move, wasn’t an escape attempt. It was a chance to start over. To live far away from where things happened and return to a world where you were happier, where memories were yet to be made, and where you could control your own life and the things you truly wanted.

It was a reset period. A well needed one. A chance to travel back into the memories you had built with your father, to properly mourn him through reconnecting in the one place you felt alive. To be safe in a world where you were in control for once and not the outside forces of cities and parents who did not understand why you were how you were. Once you mourned, then, you would have a world where no one would know or remember you. You could be the you that you wanted to be in a place where no one had any previous knowledge of your behavior.

It was perfect.

A heavy thunk echoed, breaking you from the silent flashback you had momentarily experienced. You turned around, cradling the last box of items you had within the moving van that had brought you out there. The man who had driven the van and helped you unload several of your things into the house before you was staring back at you with a frown bristling against his lips. You chose to ignore it, however, and offer him a smile in return despite the uneasiness he caused within you. “Thank you for the help with the heavier things,” You murmured as politely as you could, “Would you like to come in for a drink before you head out? It’ll be cold out there soon and I’m sure I know which box my kettle is in.”

The joke you attempted did not make him laugh. Instead you watched as he stepped backwards towards his truck, head shaking as he declined your offer.

“No ma’am,” His voice was low as he dared gaze around the rest of the woods warningly, “I don’t want to stay in these woods longer than I have to...they say they’re haunted, you know. A young woman like yourself really shouldn’t be left alone in them...Who knows what could lurk around here.”

You could only laugh, the voice he was using a clear warning. A gentle plead to get you to return to the safety of civilization. A foolish sort of mantra from a tongue that didn’t understand the ways of the forest and, thus, fell on the deaf ears of a woman intent on proving a point. Your fingers gripped tighter on the box, shifting it in your hands to keep the steady hold as your head tilted to the side ever so slightly, skewing his personage horizontally by only the slightest of degrees.

“I’m sure whatever is out here,” You responded with a sharp shutdown of his request, “I can handle it just fine on my own.”

“Well,” He chuckled after a few moments of silence, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, miss.”

“Have a safe drive.”

With those last four words you turned sharply on the heels of your feet, bangs brushing against your forehead while you moved forward. You refused to look back as the sound of the truck roaring to life echoed against your spine. As you felt the rumble in the soil to when it left, dissipating from the area and leaving you, again, in the familiar silence of the autumn woods. You took in a deep breath, smelling the moss and decay that had just begun to overcome the wet lakeside soil.

It smelled like a fresh start.

You hurried inside as the wind picked up, placing the final box in your living room and beginning to unpack the necessities for the night. Luckily, your father’s friend had left it furnished upon his death. The only things you had to bring were small. Utensils and electronics for the kitchen. A few pictures and decorations you could not part without. You had left your television and computer behind, disinterested in keeping in contact with those from your past life. Instead you substitute the boxes they would have taken up with books. Piles of books that would garner their own line of bookshelves both downstairs in the living room and up in your bedside dresser. You would wait to unpack them, just as you would have to wait until spring to purchase any sort of gardening implements and seeds for the backyard. There was a silent thanks that echoed in your mind to the past you for remembering to stock up on canned goods and non perishable foodstuffs, as they seemed to be what you were going to mark your survival upon for the next several months.

The unpacking went on well into the beginning of the sunset, oranges bathing the entirety of the cabin through the thin glass windows as signal for you to cease in your movements. Your own humming and gentle melodies had given you comfort as you unpacked your belongings. As you finally decided to stop for the night, pleased with the progress you had made on the living room decorations, you decided a quick dinner would be a good way to celebrate your move into the home. You placed your tea kettle on the stovetop after filling it up with the sink at its side, preparing a single mug with a fished out bag of your favorite decaffeinated chai tea placed within it to serve yourself after the water had warmed.

While waiting, you stopped out onto the porch of your home, gazing out into the vast wilderness around you. From here the world was peaceful, your heart finding pace with the twittering of the birds as they faded to give rise to the cicadas of the evening. A wind bristled at the porch, blowing past you and causing you to shiver as you watched it take a few reddened leaves with it from the ground. A mental note was made somewhere in your peripheral to rake when you could. Clearing the ground now and keeping it clear would make it easier to plant things in the spring as you wanted.

A motion in the forest caught your eye.

It was a brief shift in the trees. A single change of scenery that had your head snapping upwards and staring out into the distance, eyes as wide as a does as you observed the endless surroundings of brown and orange. Paranoia held itself tight against your stomach as it always did when you had seen something from the corners of your eye. It was not the first time something had flitted there aimlessly nor would it be the last. Your mind conjured up the thoughts of the truck driver who had taken you to the isolated cabin and helped to unpack your stuff. Of the tales he had told you while riding with him and the warning he had uttered before leaving you to your own devices.

I don’t want to stay in these woods longer than I have to...they say they’re haunted, you know.

Another shift and you stared further, squinting to try and see just what was constantly bothering your eyes.

As your mind meandered to the remembrance of the tale of Jason Voorhees, who had drowned years ago in the lake so close to your own backyard, you could have sworn that you saw a figure hiding amongst the trees. He was tall, but small compared to the towering pines around you. The cedars reached to the setting sun as you watched the possible intruder, his face hidden behind a single hockey mask as your eyes met. Or, you could only assume that your eyes had met. He felt...unreal. An apparition amongst branches. Something your mind conjured up in its spare time while you were alone. Your heartbeat in your chest was deafening as you  continued to stare outwards, mouth suddenly dry at the possibility of confrontation but curious to where it would lead.

The sound of your tea kettle whistling, high pitched and shrill throughout the household, snapped you from your reverie. Your head tilted back to examine the noise, acknowledging it for a moment before turning your head back to the front of the house. But, if there ever was a figure in the first place, it was gone now. The spot you had held eye contact with for so long as empty now, leaving only you and the trees alone together.

Anxiety faded to unsureness and you shook your head, dismissing it only briefly before returning to your home and shutting the kettle off in the kitchen. It was only a momentary trick of the eye, you convinced yourself over and over again with a mantra that soon fell from between your lips audibly rather than just in your head. No matter the repetition, however, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was something more than just your mind, plaguing you with paranoia. It was something more, just as this forest was something more.

You sipped your tea and took a breath. Whatever it was, you were sure, that the forest would reveal it to you when it trusted you enough. Until then, you were content to wait.

[sieben9]

“hyperion heights” impressions

{Quick request to anyone reading: I’m watching OUaT for the first time, and I want to avoid spoilers. So, if you want to discuss something spoilery, I’d be grateful if you could start a new post for that. Thank you!}

::plays “New Season” from Galavant::

…look, I’ve got the thing stuck in my head, and I thought I’d share.

I liked the episode? I think? There’s a lot of set-up and not a whole bunch of plot, but I think I like the things that were set up. And the characters definitely got off to a strong start (with one little problem I’ll get to later), so that’s always a plus for me.

More under the cut.

OK, so the flashback was a good, solid foundation for further conflict. Henry and Cinderella had some solid chemistry, and the twist to her particular version of this tale was one I did not see coming.

murderous Disney princess in a poofy dress on a motorcycle is definitely a Look™

I have to say, getting in a traffic collision with your future partner is... actually very on-brand for every single part of Henry’s family. Glad to see you’re keeping traditions alive, pal. (And yes, that explicitly includes Regina, who found her first girlfriend through breaking and entering.)

And it’s ...let’s say “nice” to see that Lady Tremaine, in whatever universe we see her, still continues to be The Worst. More on that below, but I found it interesting that one mainstay of OUaT seems to be that no, she’s horrible to all her children and not just her stepdaughter. It’s just different kinds of terribleness. I’m also wondering if Cinderella just has the one step-sister in this version (I know for a fact that there are some out there where that’s the case) or if it’s a plot point. And if there really is only one sister, the next question is: where is she? Did something horrible happen? And if so, was it the result of her mother’s terribleness or (part of) the cause? So many questions, so little time~

…can you tell I’m loving this bit? I mean, I hate her guts, but she intrigues me, which is always great. (Me? Latching on to a villain? What a strange thing to happen.)

The closing shot for the flashback plotline is very promising, with Henry deciding that no, home can wait, the strange lady who punched him in the face and almost framed him for murder needs help, first. …you know, I can’t even tell which part of his family he gets it from, because they are all completely bananas.

you grew up great, buddy

Also, just as a closing question: does he have a magic motorcycle? Is that why it doesn’t need fuelling up in however long it’s been since he left Storybrooke? Just asking.

I mentioned my one problem with the modern-day cast at the top, and I’ll just get right into it: my biggest problem at this point is not comparing everyone’s “roles” to the original cast configuration. Like, “Roni” doing Snow’s job (even if her temper is very different from Mary Margaret’s). Henry isn’t Emma, even if he’s the “new guy in town”, and Lucy isn’t Henry, even if she clearly inherited his “little shit” genes. (I love her so much, but how her mother manages her on her own, I will never know. Victoria Belfrey sure as hell isn’t Regina, because Regina would never treat any child of hers this way, thank you very much. In fact, I wonder if she and Cora went to the same school for being a terrible mom together. That’s the level of “I do not like this person” I’m on.

Still, the Hyperion Heights people seem like a good bunch, and I look forward to seeing more of them.

Henry is a lovable fuck-up who thinks he made up the entirety of the show so far and managed to squeeze it all into one book. My guy. I know what the transfer rate from TV to prose is. You could never fit that in one volume.

at least not that one. that’s... what? 600 pages, tops?

And is it just me or did his particular role in the curse take a fucking dark turn? Because it’s bad enough to separate everyone from their loved ones, but giving the guy fake memories of his wife and child burning to death in a house fire? Just… wow. Please let the poor man remember soon because this will be haunting me until then.

Speaking of things that will haunt me…

They didn’t recognise each other and I was not prepared for the complete gut-punch that was. They were sitting there, looking at each other, and they didn’t know. Guh! (And yes, I am 100% convinced that Roni is, in fact, Roni and not Regina, because she might have kept up the pretence for a good enough reason, but she’d never have kept that good a poker face; I also doubt she would have given her son and his not-quite-date strong liquor at before 4pm)

Special mention goes to Henry’s line of “imagine if I were to walk in here and say that I’m your son”, because yeah, imagine you doing that. To anyone. What a crazy thing, right? (

And while I’m on the topic of Roni…

I love her so much. Everything about her. Her attitude, the way she moves, the Looks™ she gives people, her voice… Yeah, I may not be entirely objective on the topic, why do you ask. I am also looking forward immensely to seeing her butt heads with Belfrey. Because of reasons.

this scene is 95% of the reasons

I also wrote in my notes “so the villain this season is gentrification?” and honestly, I don’t think I was that far off. There’s definitely a strong theme of class in this set-up, and I hope the writers carry that through at least a little.

A quick rundown of the other characters, while I’m at it:

I like Jacinda well enough, although her main character trait at the moment seems to be “really, really stressed out”. Which is fair. She’s a single mom with Belfrey as her only family connection. Her scene with Henry in the bar and with Lucy at the well was extremely adorable, though, so I’m optimistic as for future developments. (And Cinderella bought her some goodwill because she was determined and vulnerable and scared and generally amazing in all the right ways. I liked that version of her, and it’s been established that your cursed self hardly puts your best traits on display.) I definitely smiled when she made that wish at the well.

Good on you, not giving up hope. (And I immensely appreciated the way it was set parallel to Henry finally writing that first sentence of his.)

I’m… not 100% sure who her roommate is meant to be, which is going to irk me until I am, but I can live with a little mystery in my life *g*

I have no idea what Weaver’s deal is, but I really hope he isn’t awake this one time around.

please take that man’s head out of the water

Rumple as a police officer is… uh, a special kind of hilarious. A really terrible one, too. And now he’s partnered up with not-Hook, which, to coin a phrase, I’m sure they’ll all laugh themselves sick about some day. I’m interested in seeing what his connection with not-Alice is. Both in the modern-day plot and in the flashbacks, because there’s usually some kind of interplay between the two storylines.

Rogers is… not on screen that much. He seems nice. Which is already a better opinion than I had of uncursed!Hook, and that is a crying shame because they’re all bound to wake up at some point. Still, I’m holding out hope. People have said good things about Hook in this season.

Apart from all that, there’s also an implied mystery in this season that I really like, and it’s “who, exactly, cast the curse?”

I mean, it’s clear that the show is setting up Lady Tremaine as the Big Bad, but 1) I’m not new here, I know how much these writers love their villain fake-outs, and 2) I get the feeling that her whole “magic can be taken away blah blah” speech might be meant to give a hint that it’s not, in fact, her.

god, I hate her so much already; it’s delightful

Which leaves the question of “OK, then who?” and I… have a few thoughts. Which I will keep to myself until at least three episodes in because I doubt that we’ve met all parties involved at this point.

In short: on strength of its characters alone, I am cautiously excited for this new season. Bring it on!

And, because it didn’t fit anywhere else:

The keychain made it through!