#there's something about the rescue crew seeing them feral and in action

[angeart]

hhau rescue rambles - part III

>> part I here // part II here // hhau masterpost here <<

3,3k words. cw for this one - violence, injuries, maybe mild gore?

-- The hunters come, drawn by the loud noises of panic Grian was making, unerringly making their way towards them. They yell and holler at each other and cheer, feeling triumph from cornering their prey. It’s going to be them who get the wanted poster reward money. Them who will get their hands on those rare, special, bright feathers. 

They do not hesitate to approach and attack.

Scar is tightly holding onto Grian, unwilling to let go. He’s going to protect him with everything he has, and if right now that’s just his body? If it means being a shield? He’ll do it.

He’s in his vex form, which allows the wounds to heal, but they still hurt. It still feels desperate. It still feels like there’s a limit, and the enemies are approaching, cautious around the clearly feral vex. 

Scar’s going to have to let go of Grian if they have any chance to fight them off here.

He pleads and begs, asking for Grian’s attention and trust, hoping for some coherency. Hoping, to all hells and back, that Grian can do this last thing. That he won’t run, that he won’t give up, that he won’t give himself over in some misguided attempt to protect Scar. (There’s no protecting Scar here. He’s on that wanted poster as well, after all. He’s already caught in this skirmish.)

There’s only one thing for them to do.

Fight.

So he looks at Grian, trying to anchor his panicked gaze, and begs him to fight with him. 

Please, fight with me. Please, Grian. It can be the last time.

And Grian nods. He rubs the tears out of his eyes. There’s nothing else to do here. He’s going to stand by Scar’s side and do his part in their survival, like always. Even if it might be the last time. (Grian definitely thinks the last time means something else here, but he’s willing to take as many hunters down with them as possible.) (He also thinks this just proves his point that he’s a beacon and he’ll draw danger to Scar, constantly, always, until they die.)

They slip into something learned, feral and fierce. A flash of steel and claws, blue magic and violet feathers. The panic and exhaustion take second place, pushed away entirely by a haze of a fight, blood gathering on their hands as they cover each other’s back.

It’s violent. It’s vicious.

This is how the hermit rescue party finds them. 

They’ve never seen Grian and Scar like this. They’ve never seen a scene quite like this one. But the fight is far from over, and more hunters are coming, and— The hermits don’t really get time to process what they’re seeing—what any of it means, a reflection of a year of horrors—they simply rush in to help.

Scar is relieved to see them. They can now see that Grian is alive! (And they can help keep it that way!) And Grian can see that there really is hope!

Except Grian isn’t really processing that this is their friends. His mind is completely haywire, adrenaline loud in his ears. This makes no sense to him, and he doesn’t have the space to stop and pause and take it in. It’s staticky and numb and far away, nonsensical to his frightened heart. The coherency evades him. 

There’s nothing here for Grian but blood and death and Scar Scar Scar Scar.

He barely dodges an arrow aimed at him and pounces at a hunter who was approaching Scar from the side. There’s no hesitation in his motions. No pause or remorse about fighting to death on a permadeath server. About killing, ruthlessly and brutally. It’s long since past the time when thoughts like that felt like they hold any weight.

The hermits quickly assess that this isn’t going to go well. The fight won’t easily be turned in their favour if they’re overwhelmed by numbers. They need to go. Now.

They don’t get to tell their plan to Scar and Grian. There’s no time. There’s no real way to explain anything in this chaos of a fight. They simply act.

It’s Cub who manages to get close enough to vex-mode Scar, snapping a bracelet on his wrist.

Scar barely registers that there’s something against his skin before he feels a sharp yank as he’s teleported away, without warning or consent. 

Disorientedly, he finds himself on a ship, the surroundings quiet where before everything was loud. Cub is there with him, and so is Doc and Ren and Impulse. Xisuma hurries into the room, eyes wide, asking if Scar’s okay.

Scar isn’t okay, because he is here and Grian isn’t.

Scar isn’t okay, because Grian was ready to give up and sacrifice himself before Scar found him, and now he's alone again.

Scar isn’t okay, because Grian is terrified and Scar isn’t there to help. He isn’t there to keep him grounded. He isn’t there to keep him alive through this. He—

 It doesn’t matter that Cub promises they’re coming. So very sure the others will join them very soon. Any second, really! Aaaaany second.

Scar’s going ballistic on the ship. Gone full vex brain, and they can’t snap him out of it. Doc tries to restrain him with his bionic arm, since it can resist Scar’s claws. (Scar does not like seeing a creeper right now, either. He’s not thinking straight.) Scar’s hair is still white, eyes shining blue, vex magic rampant in his veins as feral panic floods him, leaving him thrashing and yelling at them, demanding to see Grian. (They took him away, he can’t be taken away, no nononono—)

Cub keeps repeating they’re coming. They’re coming.

Scar keeps trying to fight back, get free, get them to listen to him. Insisting, urgent and panicky: Send me back send me back send me back.

A minute passes, then another.

The others aren’t showing up.

Scar’s agitation only grows. He told them. He told them that Grian needs him! They aren’t listening to him. Nobody is listening.

Impulse tells him to trust them.

Scar shouts back that he doesn’t trust anybody.

It’s bewildering and startling and wild. On top of that, Cub is freaking out, because Scar’s still in his vex form, and Cub knows all too well that it’s actively dangerous to Scar to keep holding onto that much vex magic at once for too long. That Scar needs to stop.

Scar won’t stop. Not until Grian is safe.

--

Grian isn’t safe.

The fight is messy and the hermits showed up in the middle of it and Grian isn’t processing any of it. He just knows someone’s trying to grab him, and then Scar is gone, and Grian’s left in an even worse state, everything a cacophony of danger and panic. 

Amidst the chaos of the fight, he does what he knows best: he avoids being touched. He avoids capture, which is what his brain perceives as the hermit rescue party trying to do. They need to get close to him, within touching distance, and put the bracelet on him, and— He isn’t letting them. He isn’t letting anyone near him. (Anyone but Scar.) (But Scar isn’t here anymore.)

Alarms blare through Grian’s head at the loss of Scar—his only source of safety irreparably gone in a way he can’t comprehend—hurtling him deeper into confusion and despair. Everything’s a blur of blood and adrenaline, and he’s terrified.

But Scar asked him to fight, one last time. So Grian does.

--

Scar, too, fights. 

He fights to get free, to get sent back to Grian, somehow, he doesn’t care how just send him back. He’s distressed in a way they’ve never seen, and the more time passes without the rest of the rescue party coming back, the more grim it all becomes. 

Doc is still on Scar-restraining duty. Impulse and Ren are trying to help but are lowkey pressing themselves against the walls, trying to avoid the lash out. Cub’s still trying to get to Scar, urging him to calm down before the vex magic burns him out completely (and literally). Xisuma is anxiously counting every second that the rest of the rescue crew isn’t coming, trying to process the severity of the implications without having all the informations to do so. 

And then, finally, Pearl comes through.

Only Pearl. 

She’s dazed. She’s bleeding.

Scar doesn’t care. He tries to tackle her and demand answers, Doc’s hold slipping, managing to reel him back just in time. 

Everyone’s now on high alert. They don’t know what’s going on down there and they also need to take care of Pearl’s injuries. 

Turns out, Gem triggered Pearl’s teleport to get her out of there when she got severely injured. It’s now only Grian and Gem against a whole bunch of hunters in a world that doesn’t play nice. 

Scar swivels, yanking himself free of Doc’s hold. He grabs Xisuma. “Send me back.”

Pearl’s pleading the same now. She was so close to Grian! She doesn’t know what’s going to happen now that she isn’t there. Now that she doesn’t have a chance to reach him anymore. There was so much blood everywhere. Her injuries throb in a way she’s never felt, dread thick on her tongue like blood. 

She can’t bear the possibility of this going wrong. 

Nobody can.

Impulse snaps to action (as the Unhurt Sane Person™). “Alright, that’s it. I’m going in.”

X, worried for Gem and Grian, lets him.

Which makes Scar more feral, because he also wants to go, and now he knows Xisuma is capable of sending him back. He starts straight up threatening them all, tries to snatch at the controls himself, tries to grab Xisuma by the throat, all the bad things. He yells at them that Grian’s going to die. Can’t they understand??? His words are jumbled and desperate and hard to comprehend, but he needs them to understand. He needs to go back.

His claws are still smeared by blood of the hunters. He’s still in vex form, hair white and eyes blue, fangs sharp. Breath hitching, tears dripping down his chin, heart beating wildly in his chest. He needs to go they need to let him they have to. Grian’s going to die.

Cub decides he has to make compromises. He says they have to send Scar back in. (Scar isn’t going to let go of his vex form here like this.) He makes the call to trust Scar despite all the damage he’s causing here. He approaches him, even though Scar is scary and has been lashing out, grabs his hand and presses a bracelet into it.

He tells Scar, “Save him.”

--

The second Scar spawns back down, he is welcomed by Grian’s visceral scream of pain.

His first instant thought is a harrowing not again, vividly remembering how he found Grian that very first time in this world. How close to death that ended up. How awful it was. 

He wanted to never hear that kind of sound again. And yet he keeps hearing them. Screams of pain he’ll never be able to forget.

The scene that greets him is dismal. 

Grian’s on the ground, his wing tangled into a trap that keeps dragging and ripping at it. There’s a lot of hunters trying to approach the trap—they want to kill Grian so he’d stop thrashing and tearing his wing apart, because they don’t want their precious money-making wings destroyed. Gem and Impulse are slightly off to the side, getting overwhelmed as they’re desperately trying to keep the hunters on them and away from Grian.  

It’s a blur. Scar rushes through the hunters, drawing blood as he goes, mindless and with only a singular goal in mind: get to Grian. He doesn’t care if he’s getting stabbed or sliced in the process. (It’ll heal. It’ll heal. Grian might not.) A growl rips from him, low and deep and feral. A handful of hunters startles away from Grian, stumbling out of the mad vex’s path, but it doesn’t save them from their fate.

Scar’s claws are drenched in scarlet, leaving behind an absolute carnage by the time he collapses to his knees by Grian’s side, unable to relax until he can gather Grian in his bloodied arms. 

Impulse and Gem keep fending off hunters, but they also watch this scene unfold in stolen, fragmented little moments, keeping an eye on the two of them. And it’s destabilising to witness, for very different reasons than everything else that’s happened so far.

Because it’s only when Scar has a hold on Grian does some of the white bleed out of his hair, his hands softening from claws into blunt nails and harmless fingertips. 

Because where there were only growls and snarls and seemingly no control, there’s suddenly gentleness and soft murmured words.

Because Scar kisses Grian’s hair as he soothes him, and Grian finally grows quieter and calmer, even though he’s still shivering and sobbing and clearly in immense pain.

Because Grian lets Scar put that bracelet on him so easily, so willingly, clutching onto him, Scar’s name on a desperate, hoarse, endless loop on Grian’s lips. 

It all suddenly makes a lot more sense. (They messed up taking Scar away.)

--

They all get teleported out of there, this time Grian included. 

It isn’t pretty. The trap that tears at his wing and leaves him hopelessly ground-bound is so firmly attached to him that it gets teleported with him, its sharp edges buried deep into the flesh of Grian’s wing.

He keeps freaking out whenever someone tries to approach, making it impossible for them to help.

It’d be best if Peal could come and take a look. She’s a moth hybrid, not an avian, but she still knows more about wings than any of them. (She should know a lot about Grian’s wings, their relationship once almost sibling-like, but she looks at the tangled, bloodied mess that Grian is, flinching away from her, and she is terrified, finding no traces of that bond in Grian’s frightened gaze.)

 Scar keeps holding onto Grian, blindly eager to keep everyone away as well, attuned to Grian’s panic. But his worry wins over, his adrenaline-muddied mind unable to figure out the trap without assistance.

So he eventually allows Pearl to approach.

Grian has different ideas. He’s having none of this. He doesn’t want anyone near his wings.

Determined and not seeing much of a choice here, Pearl crouches as close as Grian allows. Scar’s blocking Grian’s view, trying to redirect his attention and keep him calm through the waves of frantic, leftover but still very real panic. (He’s using his wings to block the view.) (Cub cringes at the state of them. They all do, actually, momentarily stunned but determining that this isn’t the time to ask.) 

Pearl is just close enough to inspect the tangle, and just far enough for it all to be out of reach.

It’s hard to see, through the blood and the feathers and various other bits that she really doesn’t want to think too much about.

Trying to take control over her trembling voice, she does her best to navigate Scar through it. It would’ve been so much simpler if she could do it herself—it’d probably avoid some mistakes and more damage, and it’d be faster. (Verbal navigation with frenzy-muddled thinking is difficult.)

But Grian can’t can’t can’t

Scar’s hands tremble almost the entire time. He’s still on an adrenaline rush. He’s exhausted from his magic usage—even having his wings out is a struggle.

At one point, Pearl tries to lay a soothing hand on Scar and he jumps.

And it just really settles then—that, wow, they’re both really messed up, aren’t they?

--

Scar ends up being the one to bargain with hermits. Bargaining is a strong word, it’s more of a list of demands, really. Safety lines, kind of. Grian’s still not processing quite right that this is happening—it’s a numb, almost dissociative feeling; he knows these are his friends, but he doesn’t understand how this is real, and his feelings are nonsensical and haywire. He feels very far from normal. (He doesn’t remember what normal is.) He doesn’t want anyone near.

They’re given lots of potions in lieu of a more proper medical examination, and a private shared room. Scar’s always the one to answer the door, on guard, tense even as he slips on an easygoing smile most of the times. 

They’re given new comms, which they tuck away and promptly forget about, completely unused to such a thing. 

Once things settle a bit, all the startling differences come into focus. Cub points out that Scar’s got new scars, and everyone notices his stark white streak in his hair. (Not to mention his tattered wings.) On top of that, Grian is scarred now too. And they hold themselves differently, twitching and flinching, curled up and quiet. Guarded and unapproachable. 

Everything feels horribly precarious. The hermit crew skirts the topic of what that world was like, what happened to them, never quite managing to ask in any meaningful way, even as the questions burn on their tongue. 

They’re not going to get any answers. Not now. Not for a long time.

Nothing but hints and flashes of fear in eyes and marks written deeply into skin, to stay forever, carry across respawns (which will now be a real possibility again, but it’s a concept Scar and Grian don’t know how to grasp anymore.)

The rescue crew sends a message home, to warn the others. Telling them to be careful and maybe not approach too fast. It’s vague, devoid of details. They themselves don’t really understand the triggers, after all, feeling confused. The journey home isn’t long enough for any of it to properly settle, a mere two days worth of travel until they’re within reach of Hermitcraft.

So of course the messages don’t make much sense to anyone waiting home on Hermitcraft. Everyone’s simply hyped and excited that this’s been a success, that Scar and Grian are going home!

They organise a welcome party.

It doesn’t go well.

Grian and Scar spawn in, not expecting to be instantly surrounded by people friends. It’s chaotic and loud, everyone cheerful and celebratory, ready to throw themselves at the two of them—

Except Grian’s backing away now, lowkey having a panic attack, and Scar’s protectively standing in front of him, shielding him, used to block the view of Grian’s wings on sheer instinct. Everything’s too much all at once, an onslaught of noises and people crossing lines before either of them are ready for it, and—

Well, Grian runs.

Scar, who has a slightly more solid understanding of how they’re meant to be safe now, falters. (His emotions aren’t settled at all, but he can somewhat rationalise it to himself.) (Grian can’t grasp it just yet at all.) He mumbles an anxious and slightly startled “Sorry— This— No.” Before he bolts after Grian.

The rescue crew sighs, telling the others they shouldn’t have done this. The welcome party was a bad idea. But nobody really understands. They can see now that, clearly, it was a bad idea, but they’re left reeling, trying to catch up to it. (Scar’s white streak. Grian’s scars. The panic in their eyes. Scar’s protectiveness. Grian’s fear.)

They’ve been looking forward to this reunion. They’ve spent weeks, months, feeling despair and hopelessness, an empty space left on the server where two beloved, pesky members of their family should be. And now they’re left standing here, in the wake of what should’ve been a happy occasion, all kinds of confused and concerned and confused.

Everything is far from ideal. 

They’re going to take a breath, have an (unproductive) meeting about this, and do their best to figure out what to do about this situation.

Grian and Scar, in the meanwhile, are going to dig a hidden bunker. (The others had a house prepared for them, near the shopping district, lively and easy to visit.) (They didn’t even get to tell them.) 

Well.

This is going to take some time.

But they’re home now. They’re home, and one day, that revelation is going to properly sink in.

Until then, they have each other. (And everyone else, waiting and ready for them. <3)

[rmg91]

Zoe Week; Day 5-ROTT

So I know we got given a free day considered ROTT was...what it was but I decided to still go with the prompt and it turned into more of a small rewrite than just a ‘Let’s slip Zoe into this scene’. Zoe is everyone’s braincell and we know it.

Also I tried writing a fight scene....I donno how well it turned out lol

AO3

~*~*~*~*~*~

“He WHAT?!”

Zoe stared at the assembled guardians, the kids, that had gone up against the demigods bent on restarting the world with that crazy plan to strip them of their powers, only for it to fail. Yes, they were alive. Yes, they had Nari, in spirit, but the Arcane Order had her body, had Douxie, and that was not okay for her! That stupid, self-sacrificing idiot! Of course he'd do something like that! But all it would do would buy them time and just what was going to happen when those power hungry beings found out?! It wasn't going to be good, that was for sure and now Zoe had to hatch a plan to try and save her idiot before something bad happened.

Ignoring the overlapping explanations and assurances they'd come up with a plan, Zoe marched her way out of the ex-throne room and down to what was becoming her studio. Shuffling around the various tomes and grimoires, she searched for the one she was certain had the spell she needed to find him, growling to herself when she couldn't. This is what she got for not sorting through all these yet. Finally, just when she'd been about to say 'fuck it' and do it without the book, she dug up the dusty purple codex of scrying and grinned in victory. Oh, she was finding that idiot of hers and then she was going to give him a piece of her mind once he was safe.

Coming back upstairs, the pinked haired witch flipped through the book, looking for the magic circle that would allow her to find Douxie. Ignoring everyone's voices, she quickly read through the directions, reminding herself how it worked and set to etching runes in the air with her wand. The symbols of power fell to the floor in sparking pink power, forming the necessary element for her spell. “Nari.” She called, “I'm gonna need Archie for a moment.”

The little nature spirit, inhabiting her partners body, let his familiar go from her hold as she finished the magic circle, sending the tomb to rest on the floor outside it. Sitting in the center, Archie crawled into her lap in dragon form, already having a feeling on what she was going to try to do. Normally she could sense Douxie's power, they'd known each other for so after all it was easy, but between distance and most likely being blocked, she couldn't without help. It would be easier if their magic was bonded, tied together for the rest of eternity and the ultimate sign of trust and love between magic users but...they weren't. Not for lack of wanting to but their lives had been pretty hectic and dangerous and bonding their magic came with lots of consequences as well as benefits. If one of them died...it would be the worse kind of hell on the other. And as much as they loved each other they hadn't wanted to have the other suffer so. But maybe, after all this, they'd change that.

“Uh..what are you gonna do?” Toby asked, standing near as he watched the pulsing pink runes.

“I'm going to track Douxie using the bond between him and Archie.” She explained, holding the dragon-cat gently, one hand scratching between his ears, “It should, in theory, help me find where the Order is holding him.” Then they would retrieve him and she was going to kick his ass for putting himself in danger, again.

Everyone took that as the queue to be quiet, to let her work, and Zoe breathed in deeply, letting her magic seep out and take shape. The circle glowed as she let herself fall into a trance, focusing on Archie, who was relaxed in her lap, his own magic open to letting hers in. She found the bond, a shining string of magic that was warm, comforting, powerful, reaching out beyond their little space in search of their missing wizard. She followed it as it swirled, twisting and turning through the space between, searching, searching, searching until-There! It sung brightly, tightening like a perfectly tuned guitar string and humming with life and she knew in that moment just where to find him.

Opening her eyes, a pink glow encompassing them, she grinned sharply. The Order didn't know what was coming to them.

~*~*~*~

The group entered the abandoned train tunnel, sans one Trollhunter, looking for any sign of the Order or Douxie. Zoe knew she had been harsh when she told Jim he needed to stay behind but she was not going to take back what she said. He was injured and therefore a liability and she wasn't going to let him kill himself or any of his friends if things were to go pear shaped. But hopefully they wouldn't and they'd be able to rescue Douxie with minimal trouble.

Her blue eyes roamed over the various crates and scaffolding, sensing him near but unable to see him. But she just knew he was here. Even as the group spread out and looked around old, crumbling crates and rusty metal drums, confused as to why they couldn't find anyone, Zoe was reaching out with her magic, searching for her wayward husband. Frowning down at the tracks, something just wasn't sitting right with her, she tried her best to see and think like Douxie would. There had to be something here she was missing...

She blinked, a thought coming suddenly and could it really be that easy?

Trotting up a staircase to get higher ground, she looked down at the tracks, shaking her head lightly because for some eon's old beings, Skrael and Bellroc really couldn't be original? “Their hiding in plain sight!” She shouted to assembled guardians, flicking her wand out and rearranging the train tracks, “They've made a giant sigil with the tracks!” The tracks moved, soon lighting up and dispelling the room around them, revealing a much darker room and three beings in the center.

She wasn't sure if they were aware they weren't alone anymore but it looked as if the demigods of ice and fire were taunting who they thought were Nari. She, or rather Douxie, was hovering in the air, held aloft by his hands in glowing magic and maybe, possibly keeping quiet as to continuing fooling the gods. But then, as they were staring confusedly as the Genius Seals, wondering why they weren't opening, he opened his big fat mouth.

“Abracadabra, Buttsnacks.”

Zoe groaned, because why had he said that?! But before the Order could do more than threaten him, she raised her wand high and cried, “Hey! Hands off!” She then sent a bolt of pink lighting down, just barely hitting Skreal, and then it was on!

Everyone jumped into action, firing and fighting the two remaining members of the Order. Zoe jumped down, joining the fray, firing spells and shields as she made way to Nari's body. She was put to a stop though as the icy wizard floated in front of her, brandishing his staff. Oh, if he wanted a fight, he was getting a fight. Ignoring Douxie's strained call of her name, the hedge-witch ducked a swing of the staff, dodging to the right and not giving in to Skreal's taunting. Hedge-witch or not, didn't mean she wasn't powerful and she wasn't about to let these bastards win.

Zoe fired spell after spell, wildly missing the floating god as he chuckled darkly at her. But that was okay, all part of the plan because when he least expect it she smirked and performed a round-house kick, planting her foot below his belt with a cry of “Rule Number Three!!”

As Skrael crumpled, she turned back to Douxie in Nari's body, running closer and hoping she could break the spell keeping him in the air. Fire had started to burn everywhere, the old wood catching easily to the spells Bellroc fired off but she ignored all that as she examined the magic around Douxie's wrists. She shushed him as he tried to talk to her, needing to concentrate on what she was doing, hopefully she wouldn't need Claire's help. Then a dark chuckle came from behind her.

“You won't break him free.” She turned to glare at Bellroc, their ever fluctuating voice grating on her nerves, “That magic is too powerful for even a full fledged wizard, let alone a little hedge-witch.” She growled as they laughed at her. And maybe she wouldn't be able to break it herself but if she could break this beings concentration... A wicked grin came to her face, feral as she remembered the chaos she'd wrecked at Killahead, and she began drawing runes behind her back.

“You're right...Guess I'll just have to make you break it.”

And with a flash of pink, twenty more Zoe's surrounded the demigod.

Crying out, Bellroc began to blast away her clones, easily poofing them from existence, which was fine as it was only meant as a distraction. The real Zoe dodged behind him, thankful for the rest of the crew keeping Skrael busy as she charged her magic. She'd only have one shot at this and she hoped it worked. It had been a while since she last did this. Bringing her now brightly flashing hands together, she drew them apart, a glowing, sparking, pink arrow held between them.

“Foolish girl! This won't defeat me!!” Bellroc cried with rage, dispelling the last of her clones.

“It's not meant to!” She yelled back before firing the arrow, sending a million volts through the wizard and causing them to spasm. And it was enough, for the spell holding Douxie up sputtered and died, dropping him to the floor. Zoe dived for his staggering form as Bellroc cried out again, pushing him out of the way of a blast of fire. Of course now she needed a plan to get them out of there...

Just as the fire god was approaching, already up from her attack and ready to end her life, a black portal formed beneath her and Douxie and they dropped away.

~*~*~*~

Zoe groaned as she was dropped onto the floor of Camelot, rolling onto her back. That had been...something. She really needed to practice that attack again, it took far too much out of her but at least now Douxie was safe. And Nari. She heard the rest of the guardians tumble in, shouts from their assembled allies rising and still she laid there, catching her breath.

“Zoe! Zoe, are you alright?!” She looked up at Douxie's voice, finding Nari's face above her looking at her with concern and they were needed to change back because this was just getting too weird. She watched him sag with relief, most likely due to her opening her eyes and he sighed, “You were nuclear, Love.”

“You better switch back before you kiss me, Casperan.” Was her only response.

Chuckling breathlessly, he nodded and she watched him hold out his hand for Nari to take, the goddess now crouching on her other side. A flash of magic and she was then being pulled into Douxie's lap, the wizard now back in his body. She let him nuzzle his face into her neck, still recovering from the adrenaline and almost overuse of her magic as they sat there, friends and allies all around.

“Thank you, Zoe.” Nari said softly, sitting primly in front of her, “You risked so much.”

“It's fine, Nari,” Zoe said, smiling at the forest child, “There was no way I was letting them keep your body and Douxie's mind.” Let alone risk the possibility of them forcing the two back into their proper bodies. Then they really would have been in trouble.

“So what do you do now?” She heard Claire ask because now they were back at square one. Keep Nari out of the grasp.

“I donno,” Zoe sighed, “But the important thing is the Order doesn't have Nari anymore.”

“That's not all they don't have..” The nature goddess smirked shyly before holding up the Genius Seals.

Zoe's eyes widen as cries went up around her, Douxie laughing in surprise, before she grinned wide and shark like. Oh, things were about to get interesting.

~*~*~*~*~*~

How the rest of the movie would play out from here I have no idea but there’s some choice Zouxie protecting each other/Nari/Archie so...there’s that. I hope you all enjoyed!

[suitofvibraniumarmor]

Light in the Dark

Summary: Avoiding Bucky seemed to be the thing to do after the two of you broke up, until a mission gone wrong shows you how much you have to lose.  Pairing; Bucky x Reader Word Count: 2415 Warnings: Language, angst, canon typical gun violence, GSW, blood.  Square Filled: Post-Breakup AU for @marvelfluffbingo.  Square Filled: Second gif within the fic (Y2) for @buckybarnesbingo. [Rating: Teen/Mature]  A/N: I feel like I maybe ended another fic with a similar line? Anyway, don’t call me out, ha. Happy Reading!

GIF Source

“So, ending it. That’s what you want?”

Tears were brimming in her eyes and the lump in her throat stopped her from answering Bucky’s question. She sniffed, hoping it would stop her emotions from falling down her cheeks. One blink though, and she was betrayed. 

“It’s not what I want, Buck.” Her tone was bordering on pleading. “But you and I don’t want the same things. I want to move forward, you want to stay stuck. You won’t open up to me, you haven’t touched me in weeks — and I’m not even talking about sex. You won’t hold my hand, won’t stand within two feet of me.”

He pressed his lips to a thin line and sighed. He started with a measured tone, partial words stumbling out until he got so frustrated at his inability to form a sentence, he let out a loud growl and pounded on the table nearby. 

“You don’t get it! All right? You don’t know the things that are still in my head, you don’t know how much fear I live in, every mother fucking day, that I’m going to lose it and hurt you.” He squeezed his eyes shut, raking a vibranium hand through his hair. “This is more than you can handle, Y/N. There are days when — when I don’t wanna talk and you think things are worse than ever. That’s not always the case. Some days I just need the quiet. Everything in my head is so loud — that’s not the point. The point is, I’m not good for you.”

Her tears came to an abrupt stop. “Are you fucking kidding me? You think I don’t have demons of my own? You think the things that I have done, the lives I have taken, don’t haunt me in my sleep? At every waking moment? I see their faces, every time I close my eyes. You are not the only one with blood on your hands, Bucky Barnes.” She stood and clenched her fists at her sides. “If you think that I’m one of those agents who was bred into this because my parents were in the first wave of S.H.I.E.L.D agents, who can handle all of this and then sleep at night like it’s nothing, you don’t know me at all.”

She stepped up to him and took his face in her hands before kissing him softly. She wiped her taste away with her thumb before taking a step back. 

“Goodbye, Bucky.”

For weeks after the split, they avoided each other at all costs. If she rounded a corner and saw Bucky coming her way, she backtracked and took the long way around. If Bucky was headed to the common room but heard her singing along to the radio before he made it there, he turned on his heel and got what he needed elsewhere. Every now and then, he could bribe someone into getting what he needed, but the whole crew was running thin on that arrangement. 

“You could talk to her, you know,” Sam suggested. 

Steve nodded his agreement. “At least work out a schedule of who can be where and when. That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard, but hey, at least then you two can have a more normal life and the rest of us can stop making money off of your awkward situation. Besides, it’s been … how long has it been? Surely long enough for you two to be adults about the situation.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “If she wanted to talk to me, she’d come to me and say what she needed to say.”

Nat came into the room and sighed. “Not necessarily, Barnes. I’ve talked to Y/N about it and she doesn’t want to be in your way anymore than you want to be in hers. To be honest, I’m not so sure that this break-up is really worth the trouble when the two of you could just talk it out and work through your problems.”

“We wanted different things,” Bucky mumbled, “and that hasn’t changed. What I want hasn’t changed.”

Nat rolled her eyes. “Her. You want her, stupid. The rest of it is called compromise. You should look it up sometime. Y/N can stop moping around, you can come back from the dim place. Everyone can be back to their normal lives.”

“The dim place?” Sam repeated. 

“Yeah, you know. Not the dark place. He’s been in the dark place. This sucks but it’s not as bad as the dark place.”

“Makes sense,” Steve commented; Bucky looked to him for confirmation that his best friend agreed with Nat. “Hey, it’s not bad advice. I mean, she's also the one who told me to ask out the chick in accounting with a lip piercing.”

Nat punched Steve playfully in the shoulder. “Hey, she was nice!”

They all laughed about the idea of a freshly-thawed Steve dating a girl with a lip piercing; Bucky had to admit, it was nice to have the attention off of him and Y/N and on to a different subject. 

Attention rescue team; emergency extraction call received. Departure in three minutes and counting. Rescue team; extraction mission imminent. Three minutes and counting. 

FRIDAY’s voice pulled most of them from a steady — or not-so-steady — sleep and into action mode. A team raced for the quinjet, in uniform and ready for a debriefing as the jet took off.  

“Secretary of State was abducted by a Russian militia organization. Our job is to go in, extract, get him home. I’m waiting now for reports on what kind of arms they have on the ground,” Tony informed as he set their destination into the navigation system. 

Y/N buckled in and let out a deep breath. Flying was something she was getting more used to, but she did better when she knew the flight was coming. Several minutes into the flight, her tension was redirected from a few bumps of turbulence to the unexpected hand on her shoulder. 

“You doing okay?” Bucky asked. 

She pulled her shoulder from his touch. “Yeah, fine. I’m always fine.”

He smirked just a little. "I know you are, but the flying …”

“I’m great, Sergeant Barnes. Just peachy.”

Bucky pressed his lips into a thin line and he sat back in his seat. Y/N kept her eyes forward, her expression stoic, even as Tony took the jet higher. Her jaw was clenched though, giving away her nerves. Bucky decided the best thing to do would be to keep an eye on her; be supportive from a distance. 

The mission started out well enough. They located the Secretary easily — too easily, really. Nat, Wanda, and Clint went ahead of the group to keep the path clear back to the quinjet; Tony and Rhodey were on either side of the Secretary; Y/N and Steve were right behind him; Bucky brought up the rear. 

No one was quite sure where the first shots came from. The Secretary groaned and grabbed for his left shoulder as more bullets whizzed past the group. Tony and Rhodes took one arm each and flew him back to the quinjet while the rest of them went on the defensive. 

Y/N was taking a mental head count of everyone running in front of her; Nat, Wanda, Clint, Steve — check all. Where was Bucky? Emotions took over and she spoke into the comm. 

“Barnes, send back.” When no answer came, she stopped in her tracks. “Barnes! Send back!”

Still no answer. Her eyes met Steve’s for a brief second before she was turning and running the other direction, away from the rest of them. Steve was yelling behind her but she wasn’t about to stop and wait for whatever it is he had to say. As she got back to where the shooting had started, she started calling Bucky’s name. Her heart raced with frantic emotion at the million possibilities that could be keeping Bucky behind. 

A Russian militiaman was positioned over Bucky, fists flying. Bright red blood pooled under Bucky’s thighs and spurting with each heartbeat made Y/N panic that his wounds were fatal as is, without a beating on top of it. A feral yell rumbled from deep in her chest as she rushed the other man, knocking him away from Bucky and tackling him to the ground. 

Her own fists were flying now, lashing out at the man who might dare to take Bucky away from her. Somewhere in her mind, Y/N knew that getting Bucky medical attention needed to be a priority, but she couldn’t stop her anger from taking control at that moment. 

“Y/N, hey, come on! Enough!” Steve yelled, finally catching up to her. He pulled her away from the Russian, who had gone unconscious at some point. His face was bloody and mangled, but his own people would have to take care of him. 

Steve assessed Bucky’s other injuries while Y/N used her belt as a tourniquet around his leg. Between the two of them, they managed to get him back to the quinjet without much more incident; the second the were on board, Tony raised the bridge and took off. 

“What happened?” Nat questioned, helping to get Bucky laying down. She grabbed for a first aid kid and found some gauze to place over the bullet wound while Y/N threw her gloves off and took his face in her hands. 

“Bucky! Can you hear me? Look at me, Buck! You stay with us, all right? We’re going to get you back, they’re going to take care of you. But you have to fight too, you have to stay with me,” she pleaded, tears filling her eyes when his eyes met hers. “Please, Bucky. You can’t leave me like this, okay? We’ve got too many days of awkward interactions ahead of us.”

Bucky’s mouth pulled into a weak smirk as his cold, shaky hand came up to her cheek. Y/N leaned into it, still pleading quietly with him not to leave her like this. 

“Everything’s okay,” Bucky whispered, only a couple of seconds before his eyes closed and his hand fell away from her face. 

Hours passed in agony as you waited outside the medical bay for any updates on Bucky’s health. She didn’t change out of her uniform, didn’t bother to get cleaned up, only followed his gurney as far as they would let her go. After that, she found a chair and fell into it, determined not to move until she had some concrete information. 

“Here,” Nat said, nudging her with an elbow. “Water and coffee. I’ll bring you food when you can stomach it.”

Y/N took the water bottle first, downed half of it, then set it aside and sipped at the coffee. She probably did need to eat, but the very idea of food make her stomach churn. Nat stayed but didn’t speak. Y/N waited a full minute before she broke the silence. 

“He was trying.”

Nat frowned. “Bucky?”

Y/N nodded. “On the quinjet. He knew I was going to be anxious about the flight and he asked if I was okay. I blew him off. I didn’t want his sympathy because I’m still so mad at him. How could he think that I was — that I couldn’t understand where he was coming from? Maybe not to the extent that it was happening, but I’m not innocent, Nat.”  She scoffed. “And how could I not be more understanding? How could I walk away from him and not show him how much I love him. How much I need him.”

“You need each other,” Nat offered. 

“Yeah. I think you’re right.”

She sat silently with Nat for the next several hours. There was still no word, and no one would let them into the medical bay. Nat had finally convinced Y/N that she needed to shower when Dr. Cho came out to update them. Y/N bumped into Nat, she turned around so fast after hearing her name being called. 

Helen drew in a deep breath. “Bullet nicked his femoral artery, but fortunately, I think his advanced healing process saved his life. We did the rest of the surgical repairs and I believe if he can pull through the next couple of days, he should be in the clear.”

Both Nat and Y/N breathed a sigh of relief. The women hugged briefly before Y/N asked if she could see him. 

Helen smiled. “Of course; he’s been asking for you. We wanted to give him time to pull it together after the surgery.”

But Y/N only the first of Helen’s sentence. She raced into the medical bay, stopping once to ask which room Bucky was in. When she got there, she was nearly breathless. 

“Wondered if you were gonna come see me,” Bucky mumbled, giving her as much of a smile as he could manage. 

She stood next to his bed and took his vibranium hand. “Bucky, I’m so sorry …”

“Hey, you’re not the one who shot me.”

“Don’t joke,” Y/N scolded. “You know what I mean. I shouldn’t have walked away, shouldn’t have brushed you off in the jet. What if you hadn’t made it?”

Bucky squeezed her hand. "Hey, c’mon, sweetheart. I’m all right. I’ve been through worse than this.”

“But not with me so mad at you,” she whispered. “I don't want to do this anymore, Buck. I don't care how much we fight or how much we push each other away. I don't want to have the horrendously gigantic cloud lingering over me that one of us could die and you wouldn't know how much I love you.”

Bucky reached up to caress her cheek; this time, his hand was warm, steady. “I can't promise to give you everything you want right away. I still am who I am, Y/N. But I sure as hell can try.”

She leaned over to place a soft kiss on his lips. “Who you are is exactly who I fell in love with. Trying is all I ask.”

He pulled her in for another kiss. There would be plenty more to be discussed, when Bucky was fully on the mend and ready for it. The fights would come, the darker days would come. As long as neither of them gave up on each other, though, there would always be a light in the darkness. 

AllOfTheThings: @captain-s-rogers​ @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​ @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​ @hurricanerin​ @horsesandbandsforlife​ @im-not-an-armrest-im-short​ @shynara51​ @sea040561​ @pinknerdpanda​ @xtina2191​ @gifted-burnout​ @beakami​ @heartsaved​ @fullprunerebelstatesman​ @blackwidowismyhomegirl​ @averyrogers83​ @jennmurawski13​ @connie326​ @disastersoldierbucky​

Buckvember (Not already included in AotT): @peace-love-hobbitness​  @rebekahdawkins​ @wonder-cole​ 

[slushrottweiler]

Reactions to Ch. 5 of Andromeda Six

Because I have to do something with my feelings. This is written out as a Live reaction, coz it matched my other post like this. MILD SPOILER WARNING

Ooohh, Another flashback

A lot of shit happens in this hallway

Dayum, Nerissa is looking good for her age.

Like… suspiciously good. Even if we took the smallest age difference imaginable, and assumed the traveller is the canonical age (21), Nerissa would have to be at least 10 yrs older than MC, if not more.

LOOKING GOOD SIS

Hmm, so Vexx and my sis are buddies *suspicious eyes*

OK my current guess, Vexx has either always been working with Nerissa and she charged him with infiltrating Zovack’s faction, or Zovack sent him to engraciate himself with Nerissa as well as find entry into the palace.

Omg, imagine if Nerissa was Vexx’s target all along, and MC was even more of a convenient method of infiltration… God the ANGST.

Ok, no more theorising, back to game

Vexx, Don’t WINK at me, my sister is right there.

Ok back to the present, and OOOOHHHHH sparring yasss!!

Pin me to the floor LIs

Now how do I choose the style of fighting imma use. Do I pick based on what I think each of my traveller’s would actually prefer, or so I pick based on which style I think will get me into training with my LI???

Well I’m a Ho so… LI training it is.

I kinda wish you got to choose a level of competency you had to the training. I mean, it kinda lets you, but at least two of my three travellers are quite physically capable, if not legit combat ready. I guess that would have been a TON of extra writing…

Damon: Holy shit you flirty bastard. We’re just throwing subtlety out the window aren’t we. God I’m way too into this jerk

Aya: Lordy, I cannot choose which flirt option is more spicy, but I gotta admit, calling her My Girl got my heart pumping

Calderon: Ummm… excuse me but did the grumpy captain just admit that he wants to fuck me? That’s not subtle holy fuck

Bash: another one where i cannot decide which option to chose. All I know is I want this tin man to RUIN me. I also really like that I gave my Bash-main traveller he/him pronouns. Idk but it makes it better for me.

June: I swear to god, this guy is perfect switch bait. I oscillate wildly between wanting to make him blush ridiculously and wanting him to pin to the closest flat surface.

Vexx: I’m kinda sad I don’t get to have any flirty sparring with my fav carrot boy. I also kinda wish he was at every training group just so he can see how much traveller has grown

NEVERMIND I got my soft Vexx flirt options.

Fuck those are too damn cute for my fav feral traitor boy

I knew they fucked with his head, but I do kinda wish his negative actions were not so explicitly tied to the re-wiring of his brain. Like, he’s turning into a very redeemed good guy

Wait… are we terrorists now?

I think we might be terrorists

Holy shit June

Things got dark REAL Fast

That CG is fucking WICKED.

June bug, you are a literal cinnamon roll of sweetness and sunshine baby let me hold you its gonna be ok

If I every meet your ‘mother’ I’m going to gut her. Just you wait

This is a very light Bash and Aya episode today. I’m kinda hoping they get their time to shine in the next few chapters. But we’ve already been to Bash’s home world, so I do hope he gets a chapter to be the star

And of course Vexx was only working with Zovack for noble reasons…

I was hoping he was out for revenge on the doctor that fucked with his head, or maybe he was looking for notes and documents about what they did to him. Different direction but not bad at all

No, I don’t wanna leave him. It feels so wrong. My June traveller would really have liked to have stayed, even just in the hallway

Wait… did he remember these bombshells before and just kept mum about it, or did he just remember since Ry has been helping him + trauma?

Either way, i need to scoop up this fox and give him pats

That crying sprite is making me FEEL things

Run away run away run away

Lol, I’m with Ry, that was a terrible entrance Damon

YAASSSSS! Traveller Kick some ASS

Oh shit…

THE FINAL ROMANCE OPTION CHOICE

I have multiple save files imma chose them all.

Damon:

omg I called him “the bastard”, we know him so well

My hero, the stabby lad

KISS ME KISS ME

Yassss battlefield make out

Awww he looks so in love in this CG

I knew he’d be a tease but omg.The dialogue exchange between these two is *chefs kiss*

Ayame:

how is she holding me up

Dayum babe, you’re strong for such a tiny person

Fuck can I kiss her again

Awww, baby, you’re too cute

I wanna scoop her up and spin her I’m so happy

Calderon:

He calls me stowaway <3 <3 <3

He’s so mad at me holy shit

Kiss me you moron!

Wow, that was way smoother than I thought it would be

Pin me to the tree captain!!!

Get lost again, I’ll only get lost in your eyes

Bash:

Robot BF to the rescue

He looks so worried about me awwww baby boy

Even his Kiss is cute goddamnit bash

How is he so damn cute, yet so damn sexy

This isn’t fair. You’re not fair bash

June:

you are handling this a lot better than I expected June bug, given the amount of shit you’ve been through today

Superstrength is quite handy

Holy… *swoon*

Traveller.exe has stopped working

Once again, I don’t know if I want to ruin you or let you wreck me.

Stop pushing my switch buttons Juni

Vexx:

oh so you remembered you were my bodyguard huh

He’s yelling at me and all i wanna do is kiss his dumb face

So I did and it was AMAZING

The whole crew has got to be so sus about traveller going missing with just Vexx. Like… that’s gotta raise some concerned

Oh no… the CG… its so beautiful

I demand more kisses Vexx. Kiss my broken heart better

I really wanna write this out with my non-canon traveller, just to make it work in my HCs. It’ll be so fun

Big Twist

HOLY SHIT

[mwolf0epsilon]

For the Post Studio AU, what was the hardest part of escaping the studio? For everyone? Like, recovery wise, what's the hardest part for the inky Joey Drew Studios crew?

Oof, where to start with this one... I'm gonna set a few exceptions aside that didn't end up in the Cycle but that were still affected by the studio's descent into madness.

Henry Stein - Being a war veteran Henry was already dealing with PTSD and his old injuries, so being stuck in the studio for five long years repeating the same thing over and over, reopened a few psychological wounds he was working through. Coping with double the survivor's guilt isn't easy, especially when he lays awake at night wondering if he could have stopped Joey if he'd just stayed, but Henry is a stubborn son of a gun. He finds ways to march on and does his best to help everyone else.

Sammy Lawrence - The sacrificial cult murders are hard for him to forgive himself for. He's resentful of his own shattered mind, and is stuck in his own personal loop of being unsure of who he is. Surely he's not Sammy Lawrence anymore, nor does he fit the bill of Prophet. When he ends up spitting up the ink that forms Andy (aka Wanderer/Wandering Sin Bendy) he also ends up with a new hurdle to deal with, which is this mischievous cartoon that looks like a character he absolutely loathes, but who is connected to him in a way he might dare say is more like a parent-child relationship than god-subject. Needless to say Sammy needs time and a little bit of affection to bring down the self-loathing walls he's slowly built up. Once he's learned to reach out to others for help instead of being a prideful mule, he'll finally be able to start mending himself.

Jack Fain - He honestly believed he'd never see his husband again, and that nearly broke him. Then when Henry and Linda managed to contact him, Jack was instead afraid that he'd be rejected because he wasn't human anymore. Jack's insecurities made it hard for him to heal and work his way up back into a semblance of humanity, after all who'd ever be able to love a lump of ink that smells like your bathroom plumbing? Thankfully he was wrong and his husband was more than willing to welcome him back into his life. They have 20 years worth of grief and longing to work through.

Susie Campbell - It takes a while for Susie to forgive herself for what Alice had done in the studio (what she'd allowed her to do). But unlike many of the others she can't afford to sit still. As one of the more humanoid survivors she is tasked with helping Allison with groceries and, as such, is confronted with 20 years worth of change. Once she has time for herself she spends it in introspective silence or straight up just writes about it. She ends up uncovering a talent for literature and becomes a self-made successful "fiction" author. Her specialty? Sci-fi horror.

Norman Polk - Norman's life is a living hell even as he is rescued. He's lucid most of the time but (if provoked) he can easily switch back to being a feral mess. The silence is also suffocating to him, so he gets incredibly antsy if there isn't much happening. Combating his wanderlust is difficult so he coped by walking in the woods, often getting lost unless he's accompanied (which is a rule Henry immediately sets up). The most he does at first is to sleep all day and walk all night. Once he gains more of his self-control however, things begin to look up for him. It helps to have an emotional support dog that can keep up with him, as well as having people in his life that treat him like a person still. His little cartoon "child" also brings out the more tender side of his less lucid state of mind.

Allison Pendle - Like Susie she has little time to sit around and wallow. She has many responsibilities and as such is always busy. The only time she has to think and let herself cry is when she's in bed. Thankfully Tom is there for her, even if he can't talk anymore. Being held is enough for her though.

Thomas Connors - At first he's furious at being stuck as a mute cartoon wolf. He feels useless being unable to get a job and help provide for the cabin, and sitting around twiddling his thumbs was never something he liked doing. The only way he has to cope is helping Lacie figure out how to sort out Bertrum's situation, try to find a way to fix Norman's speaker and hearing, as well as keeping an eye on everyone when Allison and Susie leave to go into town. Running outside like an unbound dog alongside Buddy also helps. Freedom and exercise go well together in keeping him nice and active.

Shawn Flynn - He is incredibly frustrated about his size and lack of speech. He used to be a very loud and boisterous man, so being rendered a giant mute unable to convey his thoughts in a meaningful (albeit crude) manner makes him feel a bit isolated. His size also makes it difficult for him to get back into toy-making, but he'll be damned if he doesn't have at least one thing to do with his hands. Most of the time he spends hanging out with Grant who needs a little bit of supervision. He hopes his company helps the depressed mess his dearest friend has become.

Grant Cohen - There's a lot going on in his head, so most days are spent laying around just sleeping. He has very little motivation to do anything, and mostly only trusts Edvard (the Edgar clone that has a piece of his soul) and Shawn. His best days are spent reading or even listening to the radio. That's enough proof that he's unwell but at least coping in his own way. His is very slow progress, but still progress.

Buddy Lewek - He misses his family dearly, and it was hard having to accept he's never going to be a productive member of society, much less see the changes of a progressing civilization. Still Buddy is young. He finds things to busy himself with, enjoys being able to live free and without fear, and still practices his drawing with great gusto (even if he never quite gets Bendy's head right). He won't admit it but running wild like a rowdy pup is actually quite nice. He illustrates Susie's novels.

Abby Lambert - She was in very bad shape like Grant, depressed and suicidal, but was lucky enough to be reunited with her family early on. The occasional letter she sends shows she's doing well and getting better each time a new letter arrives. She feels a little bad that not everyone is as fortunate as her to have the support of their loved ones... Some don't have families to return to at all and that just doesn't sit right with her.

Bertrum Piedmont - Hates life a little less with each attempt Lacie makes at improving his living conditions. Being a stationary amusement park ride takes a toll on one's sanity, so it's normal that Bertrum is incredibly antisocial at first. Fortunately he's slowly warmed up to everyone as time goes on, and the one thing that bothers him is being unable to show his appreciation for the stubborn idiots who keep trying to help him. Inadequacy is a bitch to someone who's used to giving his all.

Lacie Benton - She's a living animatronic and she hates it, but now that she's not immobilized and that Tom built her a new arm, she can actually move on with her life and try to sort the real issues. Starting with Bertrum and Norman who definitely need a bit of refurbishing to live a better life. Surprisingly Bertrum is easier to sort out than Norman, who gets just a little too upset when she touches his speaker or wires...

Emma LaMonte - Like Jack and Abby she got lucky enough to go back to her family. Being as determined as she is, she also managed to regain her human form pretty quickly. Her perfectionist nature may have made her difficult most of the time, but now it's certainly worked in her favor. The one thing that she can't cope with is the memory of once having no legs to speak of... It chills her, the thought she'd never be able to dance again.

The Ink Demon - Binky needs to learn how to people and that in itself is already hard. Learning to cope with the monstrous things he did to everyone else is a whole new can of worms... Luckily the toons seem to like him a lot. It helps to not be cast aside. Henry also makes an effort to teach him as best he can, and show him the affection and understanding that Joey never did.

-

Joey Drew - Fled the country once he realized Henry broke the cycle. Can't deal with the fact he was wrong and that his life's work amounted to nothing, so he avoids dealing with it altogether. He's a wanted man, not by the law but by Henry's own righteous fury and desire for justice, as well as Linda's protective rage over her husband.

Wally Franks - He's the one that got away, so he carries a lot of survivor's guilt on his shoulders. Wishes he'd been able to help in the past, so once Henry contacts him for help finding everyone's families he jumps at the opportunity to do right by his old coworkers. He's the one who gets Norman a dog that wouldn't just flee from him, and he'll donate funds to keep the cabin afloat whenever things aren't doing so good. He visits a lot too.

Dot - She couldn't believe that the people she was sure as hell were dead actually survived Drew's madhouse of a studio. She had to pinch herself when she reunited with them however, because she wasn't expecting... Well... This... She feels responsible for Buddy being stuck as he is because she couldn't save him and instead saved herself. She's taken it upon herself to locate Joey and expose his monstrous actions.

Linda Stein - Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. This lady was not scorned by her husband, but she sure has a bone to pick with Mr. Drew. Luckily for her, Henry feels just as vindictive as she when it comes to Joey's obscene cruelty. Linda does her best to help everyone at the cabin, and gives her all in helping her husband through listening to the things he dare not tell his therapist... Needless to say she's heartbroken that her beloved had to go through two separate hells only to be expected to move on once he got out...

[a-wanderin-whirlybird]

Who did this? A Sole Ender AU fic

Summary: Ryan Haywood is happy in the crew. They know his quirks, well, most of them and they dont care. They have embraced his weird situation and have been the best family Ryan could ever want. He never wanted to lose them, so when one of the Lads goes missing for 2 weeks, only to return half alive? Well, Ryan isnt seeing red persay... He is seeing Black.

I would like to warn you: there are some parts where reality and imagination blurs a bit. There is also lots of blood. It will be the but be careful please.

Ryan stared at the door to the penthouse, gently holding Finnieas to his chest. The night sky glittered with the light of the city around them. The three legged kitten had grown quickly in the last 3 months. It wasnt uncommon to see the bundle hopping along besides Ryan or Jeremy. Occasionally the little guy would find an injured crew member and simply curl on them and purr. Geoff couldn't deny how adorable the cat was though he refused to admit it. Which didnt matter, Ryan had an entire album of the crew playing with Finnieas on his phone now.

But those happy times were on hold, and Finnieas wasnt purring to heal a physical wound. Michael had been missing for several weeks now, no one knew what happened, just that he went out for a supply run and never returned.

Ryan had taken to standing guard by the door at night. His years in the Lab had taught him how to operate on no sleep so he was able to do this. It didnt make the situation any better, and he was still exhausted beyond belief.

As Jack and Jeremy liked to remind him, he was still human, no matter what. He had limits.

Despite that Ryan sat up. His Vagabond Mask in arms reach just in case and surrounded by Diet Coke cans. His mind wandered about phasing between focused intent and roaming memories.

God exhaustion didnt helo memories one bit, it had been a week and a half since Ryan slept more than an hour every 3 days and things were blurring.

Then the door silently opened and the scent of old blood and gunpowder filled Ryan's mind. The walls turned white.

Ryan rose and teleported in an instant to catch Michael, leaving Finnieas to tumble onto the couch with a Mrrp. God Michael was shit. Ryan couldnt tell where all the blood was from but if the distinct lack of fingernails was anything to go by, he would guess Michael had been in some deep shit.

"Michael, stay with me ok?" Ryan muttered as the curly haired man moaned in pain. Ryan began to bridal style carry Michael into the back. He stopped outside Michael's own room but decided against it. He didnt trust it at the moment, plus Gavin and Jack were asleep there. Something about the smell.

Ryan instead made his way to his own room, and gently set Michael down on his bed. Ryan then slowly began to peel away the lady's tattered clothes, and tucked a blanket over him.

All the while Ryan was taking shaky shallow breaths. Blood was easy. He saw blood on himself all the time. Ryan had removed his eye patch, a plain black silk one Geoff had gotten him, to look over Michael. It played to have an eye that could show exactly what kind of injuries or weaknesses someone had. Especially if you needed to report the injuries.

Internal bleeding, the blood pooled dangerously in Michael's lungs. The eye revealed if Michael wasnt propped up he would drown quicker. So Ryan propped him up, the ghost of an electric shock shooting through his veins as he did so.

No time for that. What else was there?

Concussion, and cracked skull. Ryan couldnt do much there but cushion the head. He grabbed extra pillows to pack around the lad just in case. The ghostly shock grew in strength and Ryan felt his vision fade a little.

Not Now! Michael needed him.

Broken ribs, arm and legs. Those needed to be set. Ryan couldnt do that himself, he needed Larry.

"Rye?" Michael groaned, his voice cracking. Ryan turned up to stare at Michael's face, not his eyes, never his eyes.

"Yeah." Ryan assured quietly. "Its me. Hang on ok? I'm getting Larry."

Ryan then Vwooped away leaving a small poof of sparkles.

Larry was a few floors down, in the crew's private infirmary, he was asleep at his desk, again. He rarely left the office unless he needed to.

He lay over various charts and reports of the crews health and healing injuries. It took a lot to keep up with the mad crew, especially since one of them didnt have all natural anatomy. But Larry didnt mind.

"Upstairs. Now. Michael needs healing." What Larry did mind was suddenly being shoved out of his sleep by Ryan literally shoving him out of his chair and teleporting away.

Hissing but rushing Larry gathered up his supplies and beelined for the elevator.

Ryan vwooped back to his room. His mind swirled and mixed up times, but it never stopped him before. For weeks a burning, and boiling rage had been hiding in the depths of his sleep deprived mind. And the sight of the lad on his bed, barely awake and alive only made that worse.

Ryan knelt down by Michael who was carefully watching Ryan. Ryan met his eyes briefly, his muscles tensed and screamed at him to run for doing so. But he kept it as best he could.

"Who did this?" Ryan whispered. The response was hesitant, but the growl that escaped Ryan's throat and the vwoop that followed wasnt.

Larry raced up through main floor, poking in every room to find where Ryan had fucking dumped Michael. On the way, he ended up waking half the crew until he found the lad half awake in Ryan's room, propped up by a mountain of pillows.

As Larry got to work a sleepy and nervous Jack went to the front room, following the desperate Mews of Finnieas. Out in the main room he found the 3 legged cat pawing at a pile of sparkles on the coffee table. For the last week or so, the Vagabond mask had been sitting on the coffee table, in case an immediate rescue mission occured.

But it was gone, and Jack was instantly awake. Jack quickly crossed the room to the back hall, following it over to a secluded mini armory. Jack cursed as they counted the weapons. Only one was missing, and no one ever saw Ryan use it.

The Vagabond was on the hunt.

Ryan was lost in a swirling sea of thoughts. Fury was the first and foremost thought. It was feral and wild, a feeling that Ryan hadn't felt for years. Not since he broke free for good and he hunted down the traitors who sold him back to the Lab.

Behind the rage was bloodlust. Ryan usually enjoyed his job, but he didnt crave the blood of his enemies. Now all he wanted was to be bathed in their blood and guts.

The combo of rage and bloodlust turned into a mechanical motion. Ryan, what little piece of his mind was still aware of its surrounding and actions, felt distant. That tiny piece that remained knew, the moment he teleported his mind would swirl back into a deep pit. The robotic movements and thoughts of an agent without agency. He didnt have the control to weigh the options at this moment as he stalked the dark streets, mask slipped on over tired eyes, the left glowing bright and ominously.

His mind and consciousness had weighed the possibilities when Michael had hobbled back into the penthouse. Ryan had made the desicion when he went to the tiny armory and grabbed That knife. The one pulsing and singing in his hand now.

Ryan teleported. A monster appeared at the destination.

The bar was empty. It had been all day. The bar keep knew that their crew in the back was celebrating. They could join once they were done cleaning. The place would have to be burnt by sunrise. It needed to be clear of booze.

The barkeep didnt hear anything but a soft vwoop before the splitting pain filled his senses and with it the world went dark.

A black and purple eye watched the human bleed from their neck on the floor. And questions rang in their head.

Why was it so easy? The tests never were this easy. Why the mask? Who said it needed the mask? Was this the doctor's playing with it again?

Who cared, one was dead. Five more remain on the building, two more on the roof. Get it done. There was someone waiting for him.

In the back room of the bar the celebrations were dieing down. The victorious party celebrated their successful efforts to through the biggest crew in Los Santos off their game. They were laugh at a joke when the faint thud of runner and kevlar hit the table.

Half present the five stared at the item before them. Then they screamed. The iconic skull mask of the Vagabond lay before them, discarded but untouched. Before they could fully process what thus meant, the dripping of blood filled the room as one member fell dead. Their skull ripped open with a knife.

There was panic as another dropped down dead. They couldnt see the attacker but it was clear who it was.

As each member fell, one by one they all had the chance to catch a glimpse of a furious purple eye and a black knife and it drew their lives away and left them to rot on the floor.

The room was clear of life, and the Vagabond moved on to the last two targets on the roof, leaving nothing but bodies and sparkles behind.

Jack and Jeremy drove down the dark streets nervously. They had left the moment Jack noticed the black knife Ryan refused to touch was missing.

"Pull over! There!" Jeremy shouted as Jack threw the car into park and jumped out of the car.

The stiff figure of Ryan had emerged from an alleyway. His sweats and tshirt were soaked with blood and sweat. A small dribble of blood dripped onto the pavement from the knife pulsing and clutched in a white knuckle grip in his hand. His eyes were blank as they turned and met Jack's own.

Jack grabbed Ryan's wrists.

"Come on big guy come back to us. Larry said Michael's ok. He'll be fine. Come on, back to earth with you." Jack soothed as Jeremy helped moved the blank Ryan back to the car.

Jack piled Ryan and Jeremy into the back seat as Ryan sat still and unresponsive, like he was processing it all. Jeremy stayed pressed to his side all the way back to the penthouse as the coaxed the statue inside.

Geoff met the two at the door and gestured to the very back room.

"Use my room. Shifty said not to move Michael." There was a twitch from Ryan at the mention of Michael but nothing more, so the three moved back.

Geoff's room was the biggest. He may be one of the biggest criminals in the world, but Geoff was a goddamned Softie. He wanted to make sure he had space for his crew, his family, in his space at all times. If that meant needing a giant custom bed that fit nearly 15 people then fuckit! He got it.

Once in the giant room Geoff took the Knife from Ryan's hand and led him over to the bed with Jack and Jeremy.

The moment Ryan hit the mattress his eyes closed and he began to snore lightly. Geoff shook his head and sighed.

"Right. He's not allowed out of bed until Michael's up. Bastard needs his sleep."

Ryan was twisting in his mind. He was griping desperately to a single vision, the crew after a recent heist. His mind chanting different truths at him.

This is the present. The crew is real, and so are you.

This is a dream. These people are fake, you are nothing but a tool.

His hands ached, and his head felt like it was splitting open. He didnt know if he wanted to find out which chant was true or not. He kept his eyes closed. And begged for it to stop.

"Move the fuck over asshole Gavin's going to fucking flip when he wakes up and I'm not in your room." The voice was hushed and raspy, but Ryan knew it. Oh God he knew it!

Ryan cracked his eyes open to find Michael, bandaged and wiggling down next to him. Part of Ryan was terrified this was fake. The other terrified Michael would break of he moved more.

Ryan reached out gently and Michael sighed and he curled into Ryan's arms. A gentle purr soon joined Michael's weight as Finnieas curled up on his right.

"Real..." Ryan rasped.

"Yeah. It's real. I ain't leaving. Heard Jack say you were like a Zombie a couple days ago. You went and got the bastards who got me." Suddenly the memories of a few days ago cleared of fog. Michael's arrival, the bar, the pulsing knife he swore he would never take up again. Suddenly everything felt real and present.

"Are you ok?" Ryan asked as Michael moved his bandaged head onto Ryan's chest.

"Yeah. I'm fine. I'll heal. Look I fucking suck at emotions and shit ok? But you kicked ass for me and I appreciate that. But next time dont fucking I dont know. Robotisise yourself like Jack said you did ok? Oh and save some of the fun for me!" Michael insisted. And Ryan couldnt help but laugh as he curled into Michael himself, more odd bubbling formed in his mind, but he didnt touch it. He wanted to revel in the realness of this.

Because it was real. He was real. And so was his new home. He loved it there, like hell he was going to lose any of it.

[lasersheith]

Keith Holt AU: Shiro stalls and stalls his confession until Kerberos comes up and he's like "I can't just throw this on Keith and then leave for a year it would be unfair"... but then Keith kisses him on the day of the launch because he can't bear to let Shiro go just like that and is all "come back to me soon" and it's super dramatic... maybe the idea of coming back to Keith keeps him alive in the Arena... maybe he forgets when he comes back and back to pining they go... ❤

I GUESS after all the fluff and tooth-rotting sugar sweetness, we need a liiiiiittle bit of angst. Just like… just like a tiny bit though.

It had been a year, almost to the day. Keith bought a day planner the week after the Kerberos mission failure was announced, it was the first one he’d ever owned. It was where he kept all his notes about their investigation.

He and Pidge were both sure the crew was still alive. Neither of them could explain it, not that anyone would listen if they could. Not that either of them bothered.

Pidge scanned the skies for more of the weird interference they’d seen before the mission went dark and kept her eyes open for backdoors into secret files while Keith kept his head down. He passed every test with flying colors, worked harder than any of the other cadets combined, made a real name for himself. The gold bars on his gray shoulders might just as well have been made of mud for all he cared about them, though.

Without Pidge, he would have crumbled. Sometimes she was still the only thing keeping his fist from slamming through his superior’s faces every time he heard the words Pilot Error. He keyed in the override to her door, praying her roommate was asleep or had sneaked off with her friends to go party in town. Pidge was already dressed, a duffel bag half her size slung over her shoulder.

“There’s been some kind of crash. I’m on the investigation team,” he whispered, craning his head to her bag.

She nodded and pulled the strap tighter over her shoulder. “I’ll set up on the roof and see what I can intercept. Text me coordinates, I’ll get your bike ready if we need a quick getaway.”

Keith nodded. Pidge always seemed to read his mind when it came to taking action. It was nice to not have to explain. He stepped forward and pulled her into a loose hug. “Be careful,” he cautioned, a tentative smile on his face.

“Nah!” She grinned back at him.

His breath thundered in his ears in the hazmat suit. The helmet felt like he was wearing blinders, his peripheral vision reduced to uselessness. The only thing he could smell was the coffee still lingering on his breath.

Shiro was in bad shape, he was writhing and screaming on the table, strapped down like a feral animal. Keith’s blood was boiling but he still hadn’t felt the buzz in his pocket telling him his sister was in position. 

Commander Iverson’s arm shot out with a syringe as he tried to console Shiro, however weakly. Keith was too slow to stop the needle from piercing into his friend’s skin, but whatever had happened to him made the drugs much less effective.

His pocket finally buzzed and Keith wheeled on Iverson, a sharp elbow knocking him to the ground, unconscious before he’d even realized he was in danger. Shiro’s unfocused eyes blinked out of sync as he watched Keith easily dispatch the other two officers before pulling off his suit.

“Ke…ith?” He murmured unsteadily.

Keith cut the straps holding him down and helped him slide off the table. “I’ve got you, Shiro, you’re safe now.” Shiro’s arm looped over his shoulder as his head wobbled.

The door hissed open again, snapping Keith’s head away from Shiro as he got ready to toss him as gently as he could back onto the table, but he stopped as two vaguely familiar faces peered inside. Before he had time to react, one of the cadets was storming forward, demanding to be part of the rescue. It was was annoying but Keith didn’t have it in him to complain as Shiro went limp in his arms. 

The cadets were all sleeping, but Keith couldn’t manage to tear his eyes away from Shiro. His hair was different, a shock of white in the front and the normally neat lines of his undercut had been hacked away unevenly. The scar splitting its way across his nose made Keith’s breath catch in his throat; how close had Shiro been to losing his eyes? And from what?

The arm whirred and clicked as Shiro’s fingers twitched in his medically induced nap. Keith wanted to know about that as well, but it could wait. Everything could wait.

He’d never doubted that Shiro was alive after the initial shock of the mission failure had worn off. As soon as they’d said Pilot Error he knew something else had happened. He didn’t have any tangible proof, aside from the strange caves he and Pidge had found during their many visits to his little shack over the past year, but he never wavered.

A watery smile split his lips and he gurgled out a half-crazed quiet laugh. The memory of the night before the mission welled up unbidden in his mind.

“I’m not very good at goodbyes,” Shiro had admitted with an awkward chuckle as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Don’t cause too much trouble without me, ok?”

Keith grinned. “No promises. I still have Pidge, after all.”

They shared a laugh and the room grew tense in the silence that had followed. Shiro’s eyes roved over his face searchingly, jaw working like there was more yet unsaid that he couldn’t convince himself to voice.

Keith took a half-step forward, and then another and another until they were nearly chest to chest. Shiro’s eyes were wide, pupils blown as Keith licked his lips, pausing to give Shiro the chance to pull away.

Their lips met softly, a bittersweet ache as they melted into each other’s arms. It was over too soon for either of their liking.

Shiro turned, breaking the contact before resting his forehead on Keith’s. “I don’t,” he swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I don’t want you to wait for me. That’s not fair.” His voice broke.

Keith laughed. “Well, I’m going to,” he whispered, knocking their noses together gently.

Shiro shook his head, but smiled. “Ok,” he murmured. “I’ll try to hurry home, then.”

Keith kissed him again.

“I waited, Shiro,” he whispered into the dark, dusty shack. Only moonlight spilled through the tattered curtains covering the dirty window. “I never gave up.”

Shiro shifted in his sleep again, reaching out with his left hand and curling his fingers around Keith’s forearm. Keith smiled and smoothed the bangs off of his sweat-slicked brow with his uncaptured hand.

It had been a year, almost to the day. He could wait a few more hours.

[teenwolfpotential]

Fan Service

Again, I don’t inherently have a problem with Stydia, but I see people asking how a slow burn over 5+ seasons can be considered fan service and I just have to shake my head.  The fact that Stydia DOES have development over 5+ seasons and yet they STILL are carrying it out so badly on the show is what’s most insulting about it.

Example 1:

Remember I love you.  This is pretty alright.  I could complain about how we’ve never actually heard Stiles tell Lydia that he loves her before, but since you could imply that he’s said it off screen or that the phrasing is just because he’s about to be taken, it’s alright.

However...

I think I loved him. *shocked, somewhat confused and appalled face* What the heck was up with this line?  Why would they have her admit to loving him without any sort of visible realization, with a not so flattering facial expression, in an underwhelming scenario?  Why would they even have this if they were planning on the whole realization in 6.9?

Example 2:

When I was remembering him I was also remembering the two of you together. I don’t think anyone had a connection like you guys.  

I saw it too.

I will suspend disbelief that Lydia and Stiles who haven’t admitted their feelings to each other and haven’t been in an established relationship with each other have stronger ties than Stiles and Scott who have been best friends through everything even when no one else bothered to give them the time of day.

To be honest, the strongest connection to Stiles being Lydia > Malia > Scott seems really messed up, but it’s still possible to suspend disbelief because “the power of romantic love” and all that.

However...

THEY DIDN’T SHOW ANY MEMORIES THAT SCOTT OR MALIA SAW THAT STILES AND LYDIA HAD A MOMENT IN.

Scott had a few memories that had some tangential Stydia.  She was present for the flare memory, but she didn’t interact with Stiles.  The fact that Scott kissed Lydia was mentioned during the full moon memory, but Scott wasn’t remembering “the two of you together” like he said.  The only time Scott saw Stiles and Lydia together that we were shown in Scott’s memories was a very brief flash among many other flashes.  It showed Stiles with Lydia at Deaton’s after she was rescued from Eichen.

The same is even more true for Malia’s memories. Her memories were seeing Stiles for the first time in the hallway at Eichen, punching Stiles at Eichen, talking to him in the bathroom at Eichen, Stiles with her during the full moon at the lake house, and at the vault under the school.  None of those even have Lydia present or mentioned, yet she says she “saw it too”.

Why the hell did they put that line in if they were going to disprove it before they even said it?  Why couldn’t they just follow up on what they said properly? It’s not like they didn’t have the footage.

Example 3:

Lydia doesn’t use her banshee powers when they’re running from the Ghost Riders?  We know she has them and can use them at will, yet she doesn’t even attempt to use them against the Riders.  Why not?  Stiles could point her in the right direction and she could let it rip.  Maybe it wouldn’t work on them, but they could have at least tried.

The only reason I can think for her not to at least try to use them is because that’s not what the people writing the show wanted.  They didn’t want Lydia to try to fight.  They wanted her to run with Stiles and look devoted and scared to lose him.  It was a scene that was created solely to show Lydia’s less established feelings about Stiles and not because it actually made sense in canon.

Example 4:

This is probably just a pet peeve of mine, but the memories they showed of Lydia and Stiles weren’t any of the ones I’m fond of.  One of my favorite things about Lydia and Stiles is how supportive they are of each other and how well matched they are when they discuss mysteries.

Every time Stiles is feeling down on his abilities, Lydia shows him that she has faith in him and vice versa.  Whenever Stiles wants to talk something through and no one else is taking him seriously, Lydia hears him out.  Whenever Lydia is feeling ignored or useless, Stiles reminds her that he sees her and cares about her.  Whenever something needs to be solved, Stiles and Lydia are the brains of the operation.  They’re the two vulnerable ones that have to fight smart.

I don’t like their relationship because Stiles had a crush on Lydia for years and is now “getting the girl he thought he’d never get”.  I don’t like their relationship because Stiles worships Lydia and “she deserves to be worshipped”.  I like their relationship because of the mutual respect and support they’ve developed over time.

The memories chosen for 6.9 don’t reflect anything but the superficial stuff. The memory at the dance is the only exception.

The other moments visually shown- the kiss, the moment in Stiles’ room with red thread, Stiles rescuing Lydia from Eichen, and Stiles holding Lydia still as the Doctors passed by- were purely physical.  They just show the most dramatic moments where they touch rather than any of the more intellectual or character driven moments that truly form the base of their feelings for each other.  Even with the memories that are emotional, only the physical parts are shown.

The message is CHEMISTRY > personality which isn’t what I’m here for. Chemistry + personality is nice, but I’m not going to ship something because of chemistry alone.

Sloppy

Stydia is being handled extremely sloppily.  Stydia DO have history on the show which is why it’s even more upsetting that it’s being handled so poorly now that they’re actually becoming established in canon.  

The only explanation for why this is happening is that the people on the show don’t really care about Stydia, don’t care about their past and the unique things about their relationship, and are only putting in lines and scenes to attempt to satisfy the fans.  

Ok, that’s not entirely true.  It could partly be that the writers of the show have no idea how to go about setting up a proper relationship seeing as pretty much every other relationship on the show was far too sudden with little groundwork laid down.  However, Stydia was better written in the seasons leading up to this one than it has been this season, so that doesn’t seem right.

Really, all you have to know about this season is that everything is fan service. Everything has been sloppier than usual because the writers have stopped trying to create an interesting and consistent story and instead have been taking everything they think fans like and tossing it all together haphazardly.

None of the characters have felt well fleshed out or consistent with their previous characterization

They keep forgetting characters exist from episode to episode and aren’t showing the logical progression of the actions happening to different characters- Chris Argent, everyone getting disappeared to the other side where they should be meeting up, focusing on the old crew vs the young crew from episode to episode

Some characters have disappeared entirely without acknowledgement- Deaton, Lydia’s mom

The way memories of the erased people have been treated is very inconsistent- some people remember when everyone else forgets, some people are forgotten entirely, the later people seem to be disappeared but not forgotten, some people can form memory surrogates and most others can’t, people were forgotten before disappearing sometimes and not others

They dropped every arc that characters had that didn’t have to do with Stiles except for Theo’s- Corey’s power arc, Corey and Liam’s trust arc, Scott and Liam’s succession arc, Malia’s feral arc

The way they did Stiles’ mom made no sense whatsoever and also was a slap in the face since it yet again painted her in a bad light and Stiles STILL hasn’t gotten a nice interaction with her

They still haven’t explained why the Riders are stuck in Beacon Hills

They still haven’t explained why banshees get left behind

The entire season is an unprecedented mess that can only be explained by poor attempts at fan service, meaning that the Stydia arc is fan service too.

Season Focus

In any case, they know the big draws to the show that are left are 1) Dylan O’Brien/Stiles, and 2) Stydia. What did they do with the 6th season?  They created a plot that revolved around Stiles even without him being present for most of it and they finally pulled the trigger on Stydia.  

I know people argue that Scott is the main character and, therefore, he’s a big draw. I won’t say what SHOULD happen with Scott being the main character, but I can say what IS happening.  Aside from the dropped story line from the first couple episodes of the season about Scott leaving the pack and Beacon Hills to Liam, Scott has no story arc this season that’s not about Stiles.

To be honest, they’ve even eschewed the importance of Scott and Stiles’ relationship in order to focus more on Stydia.  Rather than Scott being Stiles’ greatest champion, Scott notices something is off just like Lydia and Malia do and then promptly forgets it.  Lydia is the only 1 of the 3 to keep insisting Stiles existed even though all 3 should really be on the same page if it weren’t for the need of the writers to try to create dramatic tension and highlight that Lydia cares most. 

Scott is a side player in this season to Stydia and that should make it clear that whether you think he should be a main draw or not, the show isn’t treating him that way.

Drawing Viewers

There were very clear comments from cast and crew in seasons 3 and 4 that Stiles had gotten over his crush on Lydia. They decided to fix that by saying that he got over his crush but then that let him fall in love sincerely, but I highly doubt that was their intention at the time.  It’s clear from comments that Lydia and Jackson were supposed to be long term and Stiles was supposed to get over Lydia.  Things changed as the casting and viewership situation changed.

The show has been bleeding viewers for seasons now, losing half a million viewers from one season to the next.  They know Dylan/Stiles and Stydia are their biggest draws left, so it makes perfect sense for them to use those 2 things to draw in fans to watch the show through the last season.

[fanficflips-blog]

One morning, in the Central Park Zoo, the penguins were in the midst of completing their usual morning aerobics routine.

"Okay boys! Today, we’re mixing things up a little. Rather than the usual workout, I believe we’ve earned some snowcones!” announced Skipper.

This news overjoyed all except for Lilly.  

"Uh, Skipper, I don't think that's the best-" Before Lilly was able to finish her sentence, Kowalski grabbed her from behind. His flipper was enveloping her mouth to prevent her from speaking. In a low, hushed whisper he reprimanded Lilly.

"Are you mad, woman? Skipper never takes us out to get snowcones this early!"

"Yeah!" Agreed Private, hushed as well to prevent Skipper from overhearing.

"But..." However, before Lilly could protest, Marlene joined her companions.

"Hey, guys! Whatcha up to!?"

"Nothin’ much,” replied the penguin to her closest friend. "We were just about ready to go get some snowcones. Wanna come?"

"Sure!!" replied Marlene, excited at the prospect.

Upon glancing over at Skipper, Lilly was worried about the repercussions of  making decisions without Skipper’s approval. Regardless of her closeness with Marlene, Skipper was still in charge. Unfortunately for Lilly, the mistake was not the decision she made but the outcome of that decision. The look that Skipper was giving Marlene was the look she found herself giving Skipper. Lilly knew then that the object of her affections was infatuated with her best friend.

"Let's move out, gentlemen, we’re burnin’ daylight!" Skipper orders, unaware of what had just transpired.

The group began to travel to the zoo gates. As they near the gates, Marlene pauses.

"I.. I’m sorry, everyone,” mutters Marlene. "I just can't go outside and risk going crazy on you again!"

Lilly looks at her dear friend and feels a wave of selfish relief. No matter the reason, she didn’t want to risk Marlene and Skipper connecting the way they did in the sewer.

“I’m so sorry, Marlene!,” Lilly turned to her best friend, a smug satisfaction barely evident in her tone. “I hate to leave you behind, but we’ll be sure to bring you back a snowcone!

As if on cue, Skipper faces the two. "Hello! Are you ladies going to be joining us or will we be getting snowcones without you?"

"Be right there!" responds Lilly.

As Lilly prepares to leave Marlene behind, the latter begins to follow. Upon her first few steps outside, Marlene is unaffected by the change of scenery. Overjoyed, Marlene shares the news with her closest friend.

“Lilly!,” exclaims the overjoyed otter, “It’s incredible! I can finally leave the zoo without going feral!”

"Yeah, Marlene, it’s just incredible.” Grumbled the penguin, disappointment evident in her voice. Marlene detects the change in Lilly’s tone, and her concern only deepens when Lilly rushes ahead without her.  Lilly catches up with the rest of the boys, leaving a hurt and confused Marlene behind. Skipper, ever observant, slows to allow Marlene a chance to catch up.

"Marlene, what’s bothering you?,” Asks Skipper, offering a sympathetic glance.  

“I’m sorry, Skipper,” Begins the otter, “It’s just that Lilly has been acting differently towards me. I don’t want things to be strained between Lilly and I.”

"Marlene," began Skipper, "You’ve got nothing to worry about. Lilly cares for you as much as you care for her. Regardless of what happens between you two, I’ll be here to support you.” The two exchange a glance, comforted by each others’ words and each others’ company. Caught up in the moment, Skipper pulls Marlene close. The two share a kiss, brief but incredibly meaningful. Kowalski, collecting the frisbee Rico had carelessly thrown much too far away, watched in a stunned silence. He kept quiet as he watched Marlene and Skipper rejoin the group. It was obvious that the two were much closer than before.

Because of his own feelings for Lilly, Kowalski knew that he had to tell her what he had seen. But Kowalski was conflicted. He knew if he told Lilly what he knew, it would crush her. Lilly had spent three years with Skipper. She would be torn apart if she knew the penguin she was still so in love with had moved on so quickly, to her best friend nonetheless.

However, Kowalski was spared the heartbreak of telling Lilly what had transpired. Lilly, headed in the couples’ direction prepared to apologize to Marlene for being so selfish, witnessed the whole scene. She feigned ignorance as she plotted her next move.

As everyone finished their snowcones and made their way back towards the zoo, there was a palpable sense of something being amiss.  Silence hung in the air like a lead curtain, particularly between Lilly and Marlene.

"Uhhh..," mumbles Rico, attempting to absolve the uncomfortable silence.

"Sooo…," beings Private, to no effect. Before the rest of the crew had the chance to reply, somewhere close a loud BANG could be heard. Skipper, conducting an emergency headcount, announced that Marlene was nowhere to be found.

“I told all of you we should have left her behind to begin with!,” cried Lilly. "This happens every-," Lilly was quickly cut off by a feral Marlene attacking her. The otter had latched herself to Lilly’s head and had no plans of leaving on her own.  

"Let's go, boys!," Yells Skipper. "Rescue maneuvers: go, go, go!"  On Skippers command, the boys leap into action. Together they manage to pry Marlene off of Lilly's head. They manage to make it back to the zoo with no further incidents.

"Lilly, I am so sorry. I should have lis-" Lilly, furious with the situation and with herself, does not give Marlene a chance to explain herself.

"I cannot believe you, Marlene! I had tried to warn you about the danger you would put all of us through! You refuse to listen to anything I say, you put my life in danger, and on top of all of it you’re-” Before Lilly reveals the truth about what she’s seen, she forces herself to stop seeing red.

On the verge of a breakdown, Lilly turns to Skipper.  

“Permission to leave, sir?"

"Permission granted." Replies a level-headed albeit clueless Skipper.

With that Lilly returns to her own habitat.

That night while the others were asleep, unbeknownst to them, Lilly snuck into Kowalski's lab. She would take matters into her own hands.

Lilly surveyed her options. Hydrochloric Acid was much too quick a death for someone as Marlene. Cyanide would work; it was toxic enough, and wouldn’t kill too quickly. Coupled with some tikus poison [??? what the fuck is this]  it would be exactly as she wanted.  Lilly barely recognized the person she had become. The malicious expression on her face was one she did not recognize. She was going to kill her best friend, she knew exactly how she would do it, and she had no reservations. She was not the same Lilly the rest of Skipper’s crew had come to know. As Skipper enjoyed his morning coffee the following day, Lilly was hard at work. Skipper saw Lilly working fervently over a small oven. She seemed to be incredibly focused and determined

"Good morning, Lilly," Says Skipper.

"Morning, Skipper!" Lilly replied, an uncharacteristically large grin adorning her features. . " What are you baking?" asks Skipper. “You’re not one to be this invested in cooking.

"Brownies." replies Lilly.

Without a second thought, Skipper reaches out to collect one of the brownies.

"NO!" Yelled Lilly, blocking his reach. “Uh, sorry but.. They’re for Marlene. I wanted to apologize for being so horrible to her yesterday."

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Lilly,” Skipper replies. “I know she was pretty upset with the whole situation. It would mean a lot to her.”

 "Uh... Skipper," Says Lilly, locking eyes with Skipper as she brings the distance between them to no more than a few centimeters, "Before I give these to Marlene,  I just wanted to thank you for everything."

Skipper’s suspicion heightens as he looks Marlene in the eyes. “Why the sudden sentimentality? There’s nothing you need to thank me for.”

"You never gave up on me, Skipper. You let me join the team despite the fact that I’m a girl. It meant the world to me then and it means just as much now."

"Don't worry about it." Skipper replied, voice soft as he spoke to Lilly. "You’e intelligent, determined, resourceful, and beautiful. Anyone in their right mind would have given you a fighting chance." Skipper blushed, not realizing what he had said. As Lilly realized what Skipper had said, she felt a twinge of regret for what she was about to do. They sat in silence.

Lilly mumbles a quick goodbye to Skipper before she can have time to change her mind. She found her way to Marlene’s habitat, malicious grin plastered on her face. Catching herself, she quickly dropped it.

"Marlene." said Lilly. "I feel really horrible for acting the way I did yesterday. I made you some brownies in hopes that we could get past this."

Marlene looked at Lilly with disbelief. An apology was welcome, but unexpected.

"Really?" she asked. She was glad to hear it. Fighting with Lilly was never something Marlene liked to do.

"Of course!" said Lilly, hoping her voice would not betray her.  

"Thanks." said Marlene as she hugged her best friend. “I’m glad we could solve this.

"Eat one!" Lilly convinced. "I made them special, just for you!"

"Gladly! I could never turn down a make-up brownie!" Marlene said eagerly. She selected a poisoned brownie and eagerly devoured the treat.

“They’re incredible!" said Marlene.

At that moment, Lilly selected a brownie of her own. Marlene began to cough, unable to breathe. As Marlene began to realize what had happened, Lilly lay next to her.

“Goodbye, my dear friend. I’ll see you in Hell.” Were Lilly’s parting words as she, too, succumbed to the poison.

[mileean]

I'm staying anon I'm case there's hate. But I'd love to see you write something in Keith and Allura bonding? Just for the sake of strengthening their friendship. Maybe even Shallura in another small fic. And... Let's say Keith having a nightmare and waking up. So three requests. :3

Wow, anon! You kept me busy! Thank you so much. I divided them into three prompts. And maaaybe went a bit longer than I first anticipated. (S2 spoilers.)

Prompt 1: Bonding [Keith can’t sleep. Apparently, neither can Allura.]

The Castle-Ship was colossal. The sheer size of it made itentirely clear that it was not meant for such a small crew. It was impossibleto catalog all of the long empty hallways filled with unopened doors, twistingstaircases, and large viewports into empty space, but Keith had tried. Mostlybecause after Shiro’s disappearance, he hadn’t been able to sleep.

Keith was always alone on his walks through theisolating ship, so he never expected to open a door one night and find someone elsealready there. His eyes widened as he saw the princess, so out of place in thelarge, empty room in the middle of the night.

“Princess? What are you doing here in the middle of thenight?” Allura apparently didn’t expect to see him either, because she jumped.The action was quickly covered up by a tilt of her chin, and a quiet cough.

“I could ask you the same,” Allura dodged the questioneasily enough as she straightened her posture and regained a sense of regalpoise.  Keith had a momentary sensationof déjà vu, only this time he hadn’t brought all of his belongings.

“I was…” he dropped his eyes to the floor. “I couldn’tsleep. I haven’t been able to for a while.”

Allura let her arms fall to her sides. “You need your rest,”Allura chided, but it lacked her usual authority.

“So do you,” Keith frowned as he raised his eyes to meethers almost stubbornly. They hadn’t talked at all since their last fight with Zarkon,and so much had happened.

His eyes fell on the large pedestal behind her, pieces of itchipped and splintered where it once should have held something. And herecognized the room as the A.I. station that had formerly held her father’smemories. The room was mostly dark now, with the A.I. of King Alfor gone. 

“My father would know what to do to bond the team together onceagain,” Allura spoke quietly and looked away from him, but Keith could hear the vulnerability inher voice. It was so unexpected, Keith wasn’t sure how to react. “He neverfaltered in his duties to his people, his family, or his team.” The wordsAllura left unsaid spanned the empty room, heavy and oppressive in the air between them.

“For what it’s worth…” Keith found his voice after a minuteas he picked up on the subtle insecurities he was unused to hearing fromAllura. She was normally so confident, unwavering in her actions. He was terrible at comforting people, and he had no idea how to comforta princess. “We never would have made it this far without you. I think you’ve learnedmore from him than you even know.”

He wasn’t sure how to explain the look Allura gave him. Her eyeswere wide for a fraction of a second, her mouth down turned into a small frown.But she didn’t look angry exactly, so he supposed that was an improvement.

“Well then, perhaps you will listen to me as your princess whenI tell you to get some sleep. I have a full day of training prepared for themorning,” Allura crossed her arms loosely over her chest. She looked taller,lighter, even if just marginally. Maybe it was just a trick of the light, butKeith believed she looked more like her old self.

“Yeah, I’ll try,” Keith shrugged. But he gave her a tiredsmile, and he saw the faintest quirk of her lips in return.

(This could easily be much longer, they have so much to talkover and the show won’t do it.)

 Prompt 2: Shallura [The team finds Shiro]

When they finally pinpointed Shiro’s whereabouts in theastral plane, the rescue mission easily became their most dangerous yet. Allurahad insisted that she come along, and any attempts to quash that decision werepromptly defeated.

She knew the most of the astral plane out of any of them,despite the fact she had never actually been there. It was a surreal experience,like moving through a dream. Heavy and expansive, and easily overwhelming.

Allura looked down at her hands and tested the weight of herstaff. It was difficult to move at first, and their first few fights with thestrange, monstrous creatures of the astral plane were not without injury. The long-time residents moved almost quicker than their eyes could follow, and it took several difficult battles to acclimate to the different atmosphere. And to imagine, Shiro was here alone.

Theair settled heavy in Allura’s lungs, but she continued to lead the group forwardwith determined, hurried steps.

When they finally found Shiro, Allura froze in place. Hisquintessence had been nearly depleted, his paladin suit ripped, body scarred,and badly damaged. His life force was dangerously low, the last flickers of afire about to sputter out.

Shiro breathed low and shallow, and his eyes barelyregistered they were there. It took him a moment, but eventually he tried tospeak.

“H-hey…” Shiro’s voice was quiet, unused and rough like it hadn’t been used for some time. “Neverthought… I’d see you again,” He managed a small smile. The sounds of relief andlaughter came all at once from the paladins behind her.

Allura stepped forward with purpose. She dropped her staff,and knelt down in front of Shiro. Without a word she raised her hands and gentlylifted his head until they were eye-to-eye.

“I’m taking you home,” Allura whispered.

 (I love this pairing. Also Allura rescuing Shiro? This needs to happen.)

Prompt 3: Nightmare

Keith couldn’t move. He stood in front of the same pair ofmassive doors that he did every night, too tall to see the top, wider than thespan of his arms. The entire room was dark, the only light came from the crackbetween the doors in front of him. But he was frozen in place, unable to move hisarms or legs.

Somehow he felt that behind the door was something dangerousand powerful, something he didn’t want to face. His heart beat so fast hethought he might get sick, his hands and arms prickled, and the adrenaline thatcoursed through him caused his brain to scream at him to run.

But he couldn’t run. All he could do was stand and stare asthe doors opened further, and further. The sound of old wood creaking filledthe vast, empty space and did nothing for his nerves. He tried to turn his head away.He tried to shout or close his eyes.

His hands clenched at his sides, and that’s when he realizedhe had his blade. The hilt felt heavy and comfortable in his hand. It wasn’tquite his Bayard, but it would do. He thrust forward towards the door, analmost feral shout ripped from his throat.

The blade met resistance, the sound unmistakable. It didn’tsquish exactly, the sound too quiet. He had plunged it deep into someone,between plates of armor. It was a Galran soldier, but not one of the droids.The feeling of hard resistance against his blade sickened him, and as the helmeted figure turnedto look at him Keith saw his reflection. There was blood on his face, and avicious look in his eyes that he didn’t recognize.

He pulled back and let the weapon fall with the soldier ashe staggered to the ground. Keith’s whole body shook.

He woke to the sound of his own screaming. He didn’t even realize that could happen. It took him along moment to come to terms with the fact he wasn’t in a dark room, but in his own room back onthe ship. He was on his back, sheets tangled around his legs, hands grippingthe mattress, pillow on the floor. He was freezing. His body was covered in alight sweat, hair lightly plastered to his face and neck.

When he finally unclenched his fists, his hands actuallyhurt. He pushed his hair back from his face, and blinked several more times tomake sure he was really awake. The dark room with the door did not reappear. Neither did the soldier he killed.

He disentangled himself from the sheets and madehis way to the bathroom. He didn’t bother with the lights, he was used to thisby now. Instead he splashed cold water on his face, pushed it through his hair,and breathed into the palms of his hands.

And then he counted backwards from twenty until his heartrate returned to normal. “Just a dream,” he said, “Just a dream.”