#was it not? i recall punching me in the face outside of the emotions involved was mostly a distraction so you could squirrel the skull away

[sjsmith56]

Snowfall, Part 5 - Shadows and Light

Summary: Bucky is joined by several Avengers, eager to support him by helping to find Leia. After the case is resolved, Bucky and Leia discuss their future.

Length: 4.9 K

Characters: Leia, Morrison, Bucky, Sam Wilson, Clint Barton, Joaquin Torres, Happy.

Warnings: Violence causing injury, near death experience, perceived hallucinations, medical treatment (edited for this story), emotional reveal.

Author notes: Final part of this short fiction piece. Originally, I tried to write in another half-sibling blaming Leah for the sins of their shared father, but it just didn’t work so this is the ending that felt true to me.

<<Part 4

Leia

Watching Bucky selflessly helping others during the evacuation of the building was uplifting, especially when he carried the older lady down the stairs. It was obvious she was impressed with his strength and gallantry as she kept telling him what a good man he was. He just accepted the compliments with quiet grace. When he heard the call for help with some others outside, he didn't hesitate to step forward, with Leia's blessing. As she watched him pick up another senior, she felt something hard poke into her back. Turning her head to see it, she was stopped by a man's voice.

"Don't turn around. Leave the cat and your purse and come with me, or I'll set off the bomb I have hidden out here."

Slowly, she lowered the cat carrier to the ground, placed her purse on it, then felt herself being pulled away, through the phalanx of fire department and police vehicles, to where a car sat parked at the side of the road. As the man reached for the car door, she whirled around and hit him several times in the face with her fists, knocking his beanie off in the process. His surprise at her resistance didn't last, and he hit her back hard enough to knock her senseless, before pushing her into the back seat and driving away. She remembered looking at him from where she was sprawled in the back, struggling to stay conscious, and seeing the adult face that the sketch artist had drawn. Bucky's recall of the man's features was on the money, except his bloody nose looked swollen now, thanks to her punches. Then, the darkness took over and she passed out.

It was barely light outside when she came around, still in the back seat. The car was in motion. She must have made a noise as the man turned his head back to look at her briefly.

"I was beginning to worry about you," he said. "I must have hit you harder than I thought. Sorry about that."

"No, you're not, Mitchell."

"You remember me, now? Well, that's something. When you didn't recognize me at the farmer's market, I was quite offended."

"Well, you have changed since you were a kid," answered Leia, sitting up and looking outside in the hopes of seeing a road sign. They were on a country road, surrounded by farmland, no buildings in sight. "It wasn't until they did a police sketch of you and de-aged it that I recognized you."

"We're not on the highway," he said, noticing what she was doing. "In fact, we're taking the long way home. Your real home."

"It hasn't been home since Mikey died." She slid her hand into her coat pocket, feeling her house keys in there, threading them in between her fingers. "Do you still live there?"

"I never really left." He gave out a quick laugh. "Well, I did live in a state facility for a while but I'm never going back there." He looked forward again. "Why did you abandon me? I was hurting so bad and you just left without even saying goodbye."

Oh boy. "I was twelve years old, Mitchell. My dad was with his girlfriend while my brother accidentally shot himself. There was no way my mother was staying around. It's not like we were involved. We were kids."

"We were friends!" He shook with the anger he was feeling, his nostrils flaring and his breathing heavy with emotion. "I was going to marry you."

"I didn't even like you."

He slammed on the brakes and reached into the back seat to grab her. Leia pulled the keys out, raking them across his face with all the force she could muster. He screamed and pressed the accelerator then twisted the wheel violently, causing the car to plow into a large snow drift at the side of the road that enclosed the front part of the car. The front seat airbags deployed, enveloping Morrison in their sudden embrace. Leia, who had managed to hold on, glanced quickly at him noticing he appeared dazed. Taking advantage of the opportunity, she scrambled out through the back window that still worked, landing in snow up to her hips and slogged through it then began to run on the country road. She kept running, doing all she could to put distance between herself and the car. Every time she looked back, she didn't see him coming after her.

You're doing good. Keep going. Bucky will find you. He promised.

Without her watch and phone, Leia didn't know how long she ran. It felt like forever, but with her head still feeling sluggish and the cloud cover preventing the sun from casting shadows, it could have been only minutes. More snow fell here than in New York as everything was covered. There was no sign of anyone, no cars, no one outside any of the buildings she saw in the far distance across the empty fields. She had already lost one glove, when she tripped and fell hard enough to knock the air out of herself.   It wasn’t until a short time later that she realized it was gone and that was only because she moved some hair off her face and saw the bare hand. For a moment she considered going back to look for it but the fear that Mitchell was coming after her was so strong that she kept going instead, experiencing another surge of adrenaline. In the loud silence the only sounds she could hear were of the wind, her breathing and the dull plod of her feet in the snow. When that surge of energy finally wore off and she slowed down to a walk she knew she had to find shelter. It was obvious the temperature was dropping. If she could find someplace with a phone she could call for help. As if a higher power heard her, she came to a crossroads and saw a warehouse building in the distance on the road that went left. It was the closest building even though it was at least half a mile away. She picked up her pace to reach the entry into the property. Its parking area had been plowed at some point although it was empty now and covered in a thick layer of snow with some drifts. Still, she could break in and trigger the security alarm; that would bring help.

Staggering up to the glass door, she pounded on the frame, calling for help but there was no one there. Looking around, she saw a large rock, about the size of a grapefruit, used to edge the parking lot. It was partially exposed, and she tried to pick it up, but it was frozen into place. Kicking at it repeatedly until it loosened, she picked it up, smashed the glass, then reached inside and turned the lock mechanism, opening the door. There were no indications that the place was being used; no furniture, no papers, or personal items were visible. It didn't even seem to be heated but at least it would block the wind. Seeing a phone, she picked it up, but the line was dead. Every phone she picked up had no signal. Unless a realtor was bringing someone to see it, she was on her own. She was going to have to wait for someone to find her because she couldn't go any further.

It will be alright. He's already looking. He'll come for you.

Bucky

He was inside his storage locker, pulling out his combat gear and a satchel of weapons when he heard the footsteps from the indoor hallway of the storage facility. With a shake of his head at how fast the man got there, he turned just as Sam appeared at the doorway.

"I was wondering if Pepper would call you in," he said to his friend. "Obviously, I fucked up and need Captain America to save the day."

"You know that's not how it works," replied Sam, coming closer and looking at the assortment of weapons. "You really need all that?"

"I've underestimated him one too many times. He hurt the agent who was watching the outside of the building so he couldn’t warn us. Don't know if he's working alone or if he has followers, or what. But I'm not taking any chances." He glanced at Sam, noticing he wore the suit but not the wings. "You're almost ready for action. I have to be as well."

"I'm not a super soldier so I need all my tools. I got the alert yesterday about the purse snatcher from Pepper. Figured I would come up anyway to offer a hand, but he didn't waste any time, did he?" Bucky grunted as he zipped the satchel up. "What are you planning to use for transport?"

"Beg for the use of a car or truck, I guess." He looked at Sam again. "What alert?"

"You might be on secondment to the FBI for this but the rest of us already think of you as an Avenger, even though we're not official. You really think we're going to let you handle this alone?" He went back to the door and jerked his head towards the hallway. "Come on."

With some trepidation, Bucky locked up the storage locker and followed Sam outside in the pre-dawn light to see a quinjet in the parking lot; its bulk dwarfing the cars and trucks beside it. He could see through the cockpit window that Clint was in the pilot's seat, giving him a small salute. Beside him was Joaquin Torres, the young intelligence officer that helped with the Flag Smashers. Sam had spent a lot of time with him after the lieutenant repaired the broken EXO-7 Falcon suit that John Walker destroyed. It was also one of the reasons Bucky returned to New York, although he never mentioned to anyone about feeling left out by their training, thinking it made him seem jealous of the time Sam spent with the eager recruit. Torres grinned at Bucky in that annoying way he had, but the fact he stepped up meant a lot. As Bucky walked up the ramp he was surprised to see Happy Hogan at the computer station.

"You didn't think I was just a pretty face did you, Sarge?" he asked. "You needed transport and someone to monitor the situation while you guys are doing your thing. I have some leads."

"What about the FBI?" asked Bucky. "What about Alpine? I left her with you in good faith."

"Alpine is with Mrs. Stark and Morgan. She's in good hands. As for the FBI, they've decided we're better equipped to deal with the guy, something about us not being bound by protocol. But they provided us with some information. The blood that was at the scene of Ms. Dunn's abduction is confirmed to belong to Mitchell Morrison. First diagnosed with an obsessive love disorder when he was 15, which is a delusion that he is in love with a certain individual, he's been arrested for stalking the object of his obsessions several times. Ordered to give a blood sample after an incident about 5 years ago, he's managed to avoid forced incarceration by voluntarily undergoing treatment several times at a state facility for his disorder. He walked out almost two months ago, a few days after he got a day pass to attend a farmer's market with his mother and a nurse." He looked compassionately at Bucky. "It's where he saw Leia again, apparently, the first girl he obsessed about according to his mother. She still lives in the same house, but she swears she hasn't seen him since. There's a good chance he's headed there, according to the profilers. He always comes home."

"They've been wrong before," said Bucky, stubbornly. "He shouldn't have known where we lived."

"True, but he's shown flashes of genius at the state facility and seems to have a passion for spy craft. He's definitely a lone wolf type of guy, making friends with only a couple of people, one of them an outpatient named Edward Ruskin. I think he's been two steps ahead the entire time."

"Okay, what's the plan?" Bucky sat next to Happy, looking at the screens he had up of the road systems of Pennsylvania.

"He's using his mother's car which she didn't report stolen because, let's face it, he's still her son. The FBI have already checked New York City roadways and picked him up on several traffic cameras, showing him heading west towards New Jersey. But there's been nothing on any of the major highways or toll roads since then, so he's using smaller roads, which aren't in good shape the further west we go as they actually had a blizzard." He gestured to the screen. "That's a lot of roads to cover. He's either switched vehicles, removed the car's GPS or has hacked into it to turn it off so we can't find him that way. So we do it the old-fashioned way by a grid search. Which is why we have the winged guys, and the quinjet. Based on the time Leia was taken, and the top speed we could expect Morrison to drive on a country road in these conditions, we concentrate our search in this area."

He pressed a button on the console, bringing up a more precise map of country roads from the eastern border to where Morrison's mother lived. There was still a lot of ground to cover.

"Are local or state police involved?" asked Bucky.

"Yes and no," answered Happy. "This snowfall has made road travel difficult and many of them are dealing with accidents or rescuing stranded motorists, as the wind is still blowing snow into heavy drifts. If they see something they're supposed to contact us, but given the size of the area it's still a long shot."

"We'll configure the sensors in our suits and the quinjet for two heat signatures inside a car or truck, just in case he's switched vehicles," said Sam. "At least that way we can narrow down the vehicles we're tracking."

Don't go there. Don't go there. Don't go there.

"What if he's ... dealt with her already and got rid of her?"

No one said anything, then Sam gently put his hand on Bucky's shoulder.

"Then we hunt him down. No one will blame you if it gets out of hand."

"She was wearing her red coat. Can the sensors pick out colours?"

Sam looked at Clint then at Happy, who each considered it for a moment.

"Only one way to find out."

The big man's pudgy fingers flew over the keyboard of the quinjet's system computers, looking for anything that indicated a filter that focused on a certain colour. When he found it, he activated it then sent the command to Sam's and Joaquin's suits. With that done, Clint and Joaquin returned to the pilot's chairs and raised the quinjet into the air just as the sun came up, with Clint advising air traffic control of their takeoff. Within minutes they were crossing over the Hudson River into New Jersey. Ten minutes later they were approaching the coordinates of the first part of the grid. Sam and Joaquin both suited up and checked to make sure their systems were working properly, then the ramp at the back opened and the two men flew out, Joaquin flying to the north of where the quinjet's flight path was, while Sam took the southern path. Bucky assumed the co-pilot's seat and the search began.

Forty minutes later they were at the outskirts of the town where Morrison's mother still lived, but no results. Happy sent the next coordinates for their second pass, and they headed back east along the path with no results. The third and fourth passes also didn't provide any hits. They began the fifth pass and halfway along it, Joaquin radioed.

"I got a hit on a large metal object stuck at the side of the road. Going to investigate."

He hovered over it, confirming it was a vehicle partially buried in a large snow drift. Landing gently on the side that was accessible, he noticed the window was open in the back seat. Peering inside, he could see Morrison, slumped in the front seat, covered in blood.

"Man down," he said. "It's Morrison. Sensors indicate his life signs are unstable. He's got injuries."

"Calling for medical assistance," said Happy. "Stay with the vehicle. We're coming in."

Before the quinjet landed Bucky was back at the ramp, pressing the button that lowered it. He jumped the final 50 feet, landing hard on the frozen roadway and strode to where Sam had already landed. They both looked inside at Morrison, noticing the deployed airbags, and because of his injuries, realizing that Leia must have forced him into the snowbank.

"Smart woman," said Sam, "but where is she now?"

Bucky looked in all directions. The blowing snow had covered everything. Tracking her footsteps would be difficult in this wind as it filled in everything within minutes.

"The purse snatcher remarked that her coat made her visible. But in this cold, she needed to keep her coat on, so she must have been sure she hurt him badly enough to do that." He looked back at the vehicle, at how it was positioned, then at the large drift that enclosed it. There was no sign of anyone trying to climb through it other than the few spots that showed where she came out and even they were quite filled in. She had to have gone back the way they came. "This way. We look this way."

Sam rose into the air, while Bucky used his comms earpiece to tell Clint he was following on the ground.  The quinjet took the other direction, just in case, while Joaquin stayed with the car, promising to join them after medical help arrived.  It was slow going as Sam's sensors were confused by the lack of definition in the snowy landscape.  If she were unconscious, and covered in the snow, he could easily fly right over her.  Bucky had to push through several drifts which must have formed after the car hit the one it did.  There was no sign that Leia had gone through after they were formed.  Just as they were about to re-evaluate their search, Bucky saw a flash of colour in the road, between two smaller drifts. Scrambling to it he brushed the snow off and recognized it as one of Leia’s gloves.

“Found something, a glove,” he reported, then looked up to where Sam had circled back towards him. “She definitely came this way.”

“There’s a lone building about a half mile east then another half mile north from your location,” said Happy, from the quinjet. “Sam, check it out. We’re on our way.”

Sam reported sighting a warehouse about a half mile north from the next crossroad. He flew closer to investigate, reporting it was part of a new industrial park being built, according to the sign.

"I'm going to check it out," said Sam. "It's the closest place to the car." Bucky sped up after reaching the road north, just as Sam landed beside the structure. "The door was broken into. Entering the building." Another moment passed, then just as Bucky reached the parking area, he heard Sam. "She's here. Barely conscious and hypothermic. Clint, land in the parking lot and get the med kit ready. She needs immediate treatment."

Bucky stepped through the small drift that had formed through the broken door, finding Sam in an office where Leia was curled up, almost triggering a PTSD episode from his own time in cryosleep. He forced it back down then reached to pick her up, but his friend hesitated and put his hand out to stop him.

"My sensors read her body temperature as 84°. That's right on the edge between moderate and severe hypothermia. We have to handle her very carefully."

"Just tell me what to do," replied Bucky, his face showing his worry as Leia moaned incoherently.

"Bring a stretcher and see if there is a portable heater in the cargo hold that we can use to raise the temperature in here to warm her up a little. If I can get her internal temperature up a few degrees, we can move her."

Removing his wings, Sam began assessing her using his medical knowledge from when he was a pararescue. He did what he could before Bucky returned with the stretcher and Clint brought the med kit and heater. The heater, battery powered, was set up and turned on. Sam went through the med kit and brought out the thermal coverings they had, wrapping Leia up in them. He instructed Bucky to gently hold her exposed hand with his right hand, knowing his body temperature ran warmer than everyone's. As the interior of the room warmed up, there was more lucidity in Leia's manner. For a moment she focused on Bucky.

"Found me," she murmured. "He said you would come."

"Shh, baby, it's okay." He spoke to her soothingly. "You're going to be alright. You did good."

She nodded her head, then closed her eyes. When Sam's suit sensors showed her temperature almost at 90°, he gave the okay to move her and they loaded her onto the stretcher, then into the quinjet, where Happy pulled out a sliding platform used as a cot. With Joaquin signalling that he was on his way, they waited for him before lifting off and heading for the nearest hospital with a trauma unit. Bucky never left her side.

A week later

Comfortably set up on the couch, pushed near the window so the late afternoon sun would warm her up, with several cushions behind her, and a blanket and sleeping cat on her lap, Leia sipped the tea that Bucky made for her. He sat on the floor just below her, reading a book, occasionally leaning into her hand as she stroked his hair. The swelling in her hands, a reaction from the hypothermia was completely gone now, and other than often feeling chilled she suffered no other effects from her brush with death. As she watched Bucky read the same page several times over, Leia knew it was time to talk about what she went through. It had taken her several days to think on her experience, but she wanted to tell Bucky first.

"I'm ready to talk," she said calmly. "I know you've been patient but if I have to watch you read that page again, I might take the book out of your hands and toss it away."

He folded it shut and placed it on the coffee table, then turned so that he was looking up at her from the floor. Gently, he kissed her hand.

"Where do you want to start?"

"Well, you already know what I did to him," she said. "I broke his nose when he first took me, then I cut him up a lot when I jammed the keys into his face when we got to Pennsylvania. After that I got out of the car and went on instinct, running away for as long as I could, just putting as much distance between us as possible. Every time I looked back, I saw nothing, so I figured I hurt him enough to keep him there. I was still afraid that he was coming for me." She hesitated as this is where it got strange. "Have you ever heard of the third man factor?"

"Yeah, there's a book about it that I've been interested in reading," he answered.

She smiled. "Good to know. Maybe I have time to order it for your Christmas present." Her face became serious again. "After I ran for some time, I heard a voice tell me I was doing good and to keep going, because you would find me. It did keep me going. Then when I found that building and hunkered down in one of the offices the voice came back and said I would be alright because you were coming for me. I just had to hang on and wait."

"You did," he smiled, kissing her hand again.

Leia let out a shaky breath. "Just before you and Sam got there, I was ready to give in and let it all go." Her eyes teared up. "I was at peace with it. After all the bad things that happened in my life, Mikey dying, Dad and Jake being cheating husbands, the stalker ... I at least got to be in real love with a good man who loved me back." She wiped her nose, then laughed a little when Bucky handed her his handkerchief. "I saw who the voice belonged to. It was Mikey, but he wasn't a boy anymore. He was a man, and he was so beautiful, surrounded by this glowing light. He told me you were almost there and that I couldn't give up now, not when the love of my life was coming to my rescue. Oh Bucky."

She cried in earnest now and Bucky got up from the floor, picked Alpine off her lap, placing her further down, then he lifted Leia onto his lap, blanket, and all, holding her in his arms, rocking her like a baby. He cried as well, knowing that she believed in their love as deeply as he did. It wasn't one-sided, or an infatuation, or wishful thinking; it was something real, and incredible, and life changing. As she gradually calmed down, he wiped the tears away from both their faces then kissed her on the forehead.

"There's something I want to ask you," he began. "We've only known each other for a few weeks but I want to know if you'll move in with me."

"Aren't we doing that already?" she chuckled. "I kind of assumed we were going to continue on. I can't imagine you moving out now."

"I mean, in our own place, that we own, and furnish ourselves, with room to grow." He ran one hand through his hair. "It never came up before but I'm quite well off, having received my settlement for back pay, adjusted for inflation and whatever, plus for damages over what was done to me. When I was on my own, I was content to live in my little flat, being a bit of a hermit, and frankly, floundering a little. But then I met you and now I want more. I want a life with you. It's not a proposal or anything because that's a whole other thing to consider ...."

Her mouth crashed onto his, as she kissed him deeply, leaving him no choice but to respond in kind. It felt so right, holding her close enough to feel her heart beating against his chest, almost like they were working in synchronization. As they kept kissing, they stretched out on the couch, sending Alpine to the floor, with a meow of complaint. They ended the kiss and watched the cat walk away, definitely offended that they took over the couch.

"We should get a big chair just for her," said Leia. "You know, one of those chair and a half pieces."

"There's no such thing," scoffed Bucky. "There are sofas, love seats, and armchairs. What are chair and a half's?"

She reached for her phone, searching for it, then showing him the picture. He raised his eyebrows then nodded his head conceding her point.

"I stand corrected. Can we get one of those big sofas that would easily fit both of us lying down if we wanted to watch a movie together?"

She nodded, then put her phone down and ran her hand through his hair, looking lovingly at him.

"We're going to do this, huh? Move in together for real, not just for the assignment?"

"For real. Maybe even find a place with an office for you to write in. How else are you going to be the next Margaret Atwood?" He grinned. "I just want a home that is ours, one that we can grow into, if we, you know ... make it permanent someday."

"Bucky, home is wherever you are and as far as I'm concerned, we're permanent now. I'm yours because you're the love of my life. I believe that with all my heart."

"So do I."

They kissed again; languidly enjoying the taste and touch of each other. As the late afternoon turned into dusk, then evening, they laid on the couch, watching the snowfall through the window. It reminded them of their first date, when they walked back to this apartment and shared their first kiss. That's when they initially knew there was something meaningful between them. Whatever was to come would be faced together, with love and trust. As they kissed, neither of them saw Alpine playfully bat at a barely visible glow in the corner of the room that subtly pulsed and shifted. They didn't notice she followed the glow to another window beside the unlit Christmas tree, where it seemed to pause before dissipating through the glass and joining the snowfall outside. Then Alpine turned back to the couch, jumping up and purring as she settled beside her humans. The other one said he wanted her to watch over them and she was quite happy to accept the assignment.

The End

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[sirianasims]

Chapter 16

Second Chances

Cora and Zane waste no time in getting married. The wedding is planned in a matter of weeks.

It seems to Don that it isn’t that long ago he stood in this church with Alex. It’s hard to believe that both his little girls are married now.

“Don’t you dare grow up too quickly”, he whispers and hugs Daniel tight.

Brie is also emotional. Both of her parents are now gone, with Johnny dying only a few months ago. At least Alex got to see Cora return, even if she won’t see her married.

In the back of the church, on Zane’s side of the isle, Layla and Aidan are showing their support. Layla is expecting their second child and is happily chatting to their old university friend Conor, who was on Cora’s football team. Conor is seated next to Zane’s sister Isabelle.

Zane’s father, Wolfgang, is struggling with some mixed emotions. He wants his son to be happy, but marrying into Don’s family wouldn’t have been his first choice for Zane.

As the ceremony finishes, Daniel squirms out of his seat and runs to his parents.

Zane and Cora scoop him into a hug.

Even grumpy Wolfgang can’t help but smile at the happiness radiating from the trio.

Outside the church, Morgan finds Don.

“Don, have you ever met my daughter, Isabelle?”

“Isabelle. You are certainly the spitting image of your mother. Just as beautiful”, Don replies, and gallantly kisses her hand.

“Mom, you didn’t tell me Don was such a gentleman.”

“There are many things I have’t told you, dear.”

“Mom, Isa, I see you have managed to corner my new father-in-law but I need you all to join us for a few speeches.”

During the speeches and toasts, Isabelle gets tipsy and starts trying to grill Don about his personal life. Morgan barely manages to steer the conversation away from her and Don’s past.

As Wolfgang passes the table where Don is talking to his wife and daughter, he shoots Don an angry glare.

Zane also joins the table. Wolfgang is so focused on Don that he even ignores Payton’s attempts at congratulating him on his son’s wedding. After a while, Don retreats to a quiet corner to get away from the awkward situation.

It doesn’t take long before Isabelle finds him.

“Heeeey Don… mom didn’t tell me how handsome you were, you know…”

“Isabelle, please. I think you’ve had enough champagne.”

“No no, I’m fine. C’mon, gimme a kiss…”

“DON!”

A furious Wolfgang storms up to them as Isabelle quickly climbs off Don’s lap.

“I knew it! Keep your hands off her, you sleazy bastard!”

“Wolfgang, I haven’t done anything to Isabelle, and I’m not going to…”

“Do you think I’m blind? I know your tricks! I know what kind of man you are!”

“And what kind of man am I, Wolfgang?”

“Dad – no!”

The punch barely fazes Don. Wolfgang himself actually seems surprised at what he just did.

“Don… I didn’t mean… I just…”

Luckily for Wolfgang, Don, former world champion bodybuilder, simply walks away.

Zane pulls his father aside.

“Dad… how could you? I asked you not to make a scene.”

“Son, you don’t understand. That man has no morals. I know him. Something happened years ago… your mother…”

“Dad, if I recall correctly, you had walked out on us. According to mom, Don was the one encouraging her to give you another chance when you came back.”

“She was still my wife! I… he… he had no right…”

“Dad, you need to get it together. I know you don’t like Don, but he’s my father-in-law and you can’t just go around punching people in the face.”

“Take mom and Isa home. And find a way to deal with your issues that doesn’t involve hitting anyone.”

beginning / previous / next

[lizzylucky]

Thoughts and Observations From the Movie, Part 3/4

Hello! It part 3 of mine silly thoughts and observations from the Rise movie :3

I stopped to look at and highlight this scene mostly because mmm good angst. Leo is an absolutely ferocious fighter, no sarcasm or exaggeration here, but he’s extremely sentimental and kind and protective of his family in turn. As someone who absolutely breaks down when a compromise cannot be found to reconcile two conflicting morals, Leo’s hesitation to fight a threat to his family that happens to be part of his family is downright painful. 

Can you imagine the deflated feeling of dying hope that comes with seeing a glimpse of a vulnerable Raph in a body no longer under its owner’s control? To think you saw your brother shine through only to realize you were wrong? It looked like Raph’s pain because the mind in control exhausted the body. Ouch.

Further content below the cut!

FURTHERMORE! This parallel is everything to me. Leo makes a very similar expression both times, and the shot of his face shows his head angled in the exact same way, both times. Both times, Leo’s life is in danger, and both times, Raph is there. 

The difference is that the first time, Raph is protecting Leo’s life, and the second time, Raph is the danger to Leo’s life. Note also that Raph is physically placed above Leo when he’s trying to save his brother, and Leo is placed physically over Raph when he’s trying to save his brother. Visually speaking, these cues are genius, and I absolutely live for that. It’s what makes both scenes so powerful without most people even realizing there was a connection or a visual representation of the emotion involved.

More Donnie love/angst! This scene also strikes me as being incredibly boosting of Donnie’s strength. Someone else half pointed something here out, and I want to amplify it: Donnie likely has the least prowess with his ninpo/mystic powers out of the four brothers, which gives a little more meaning to this part.

Recall that Donnie was most reluctant to embrace magic, first off. One, because he has some amazing technological mastery that allows him to accomplish many of the same feats magic can, so he finds value in being able to do that without the help of some outside source that doesn’t have any connection to his ability. And, if you remember the episode where he and April visit a witch town, you know that it goes deeper than this in that he’s scared magic of any kind is in itself something that can render him obsolete; because it’s his ability with tech that defines who he is on the team, at least in his eyes.

All that to say it took him the longest to embrace and learn to use his ninpo, really. And once he did get to that point, it was made clear that he used it to enhance his mind’s ambitions and create mystic tech. He’s good at what he does, but each brother has a distinct style or purpose to their ninpo, and while Donnie’s is helpful and overall cool in its own right, by nature it’s not a protective magic like, say, Raph’s. 

So, Donnie has the least experience with his ninpo, and shield making was very definitely not his forte, which means that in this scene it can be assumed the shield he makes to protect him and Mikey is already not very strong, and as it was the Krang punched through it like it was nothing. He and Mikey are both temporarily knocked out as they’re hit out of the sky, both going completely limp in their freefall. 

(As an aside, GOSH I love Donnie being protective over Mikey, just an A+ trope. I might make a separate compilation of screenshots showcasing all the times Donnie and Mikey hung onto and protected each other, and it’s a surprisingly high count)

Immediately after Donnie and Mikey are yote out the sky, Leo directs Raph to go save them, and I wanted to show the screenshot he does this in because I missed the tears in Leo’s eyes the first few times I watched the movie. 

Leo is utterly terrified for his brothers. Pressure is high, he only just got the four of them out of their last immediate danger, and these boys just threw pretty much everything they’ve got at a literal world-ending threat with no effect. Then, without so much as 10 seconds to breathe when coming to this conclusion, both his little brothers are knocked out of the sky, and he had to send his only big brother away to make sure they don’t straight up die, leaving Leo completely alone with an enemy he can’t seem to beat. I’d be crying too, man.

Additionally, I’ve always been curious as to how exactly Raph grabbed both Mikey and Donnie just before engulfing the three of them in a Mega-Ninpo-Raph-Projection. Now I know, and, yeah, it does look like a giant hug. I’m soft for how caringly he wraps them in his arms, almost like he’s cradling them. No doubt he’s got the same fears as Leo running through his head at a million miles a minute, and as an eldest sibling myself I’m impressed with how well he kept his composure.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

[youryanderedaddy]

Hello, dear 💛 firstly, I am congratulating you for your blog, you’re doing an amazing stuff and I’d very delighted to support ya’ 💕 so here’s mine; what about a hitman/assassin yandere who is very infamous in underworld for his reputation finally finding his darling, what would be his first encounter and the after? A little bit smutty maybe? It’s up to you, 🌹

Aww, thank you so much for the support and for the idea. I hope that you will like how it turned out. It isn’t as filthy as I wish it was, but oh well, there is always a next time lol

 Title: Stone cold 

 Tw: female reader, obssessive behavior, non-con, dub-con, veery slight knife play, slight dirty talk 

   You should have known that something was up the very moment someone knocked on your door on a Friday night – it was unusual. Especially when you take into an account the weird accidents that had been happening the last three months. People in the neighborhood went missing one by one, some of your personal items like clothes, lipsticks and even toothbrushes were stolen and you always felt a pair of eyes burning a hole through your back. But still, you didn’t want to freak yourself out and tried to stay positive, reasonable. If someone wanted to take you out, they would have already done it, right?

 While mentally encouraging yourself, you slowly got closer to the black door. By now the knocking had stopped, but you could hear the soft breathing of your visitor outside of the apartment. In a way you really wanted to stop for a second and rationalize why this unknown person was breathing so damn loud, but decided against it – what good would it do anyways? With that in mind you finally reached out to unlock the door and slowly opened it to reveal a man, covered from head to toes in black. The darkness of the corridor had swallowed  all of his recognizable features and you could only make out his eyes, while his mouth and nose were hidden away by a ski mask. And if this wasn’t alarming enough, the bulge in his right pocket looked suspiciously close to the shape of a gun.

“Caught you.” The intruder hummed, looking more than pleased with himself, and his eyes sparkled with a wild emotion you didn’t know the name of. Your body was paralyzed at the sight of the weapon and you were starting to regret moving into such a dangerous area where no trace of a police involvement could be found. Not that you would have the time to call them anyways since the next moment the man had managed to push you  to the floor with a loud „boom”, pinning your body down with his own. You finally gained the courage to scream your heart out, but your terrified cries were quickly muffled by the gloved hand, covering your mouth.

 “You scream one more time and I will drill a fucking hole into your pretty little head.” The man whispered into your ear in a dark, eerie voice. “Right here.” He gently touched your forehead in a clear warning. You broke out into a cold sweat, but remained motionless, immobile. “Do you understand me?” The hitman asked huskily and pressed his elbow into your shrinking stomach. You nodded quickly, your heart now racing so fact you could almost feel the abrupt beats against your skin. You had made a grave mistake opening the door, but it was too late now.

 “Good.” The stranger smirked like a wolf, ready to tear apart the innocent lifeless lamb in front of him. He finally raised his hand away from your mouth. As if to prove your darkest fears and theories, the man suddenly took a sharp shiny knife out of his left pocket and slowly ran it trough your exposed collarbone. He only let the very end touch your skin but its coldness, combined with the adrenaline rushing into your veins, were enough to send you over the edge with fear. “Don’t panic. I have already decided to keep you for myself, so as long as you behave, I have no reason to hurt you. ” The man finally uttered after watching you squirm helplessly for a while, the stupid teasing smile never leaving his lips. He took off his mask and dropped the knife on the ground, just a few inches away from your carotid artery, and fiddled with the first button of your thin shirt. This mere action of his made shivers run down your spine and you couldn’t help, but shut your eyes tight, just for a moment, just to put yourself together.

 “Why are you doing this?” You whimpered, cringing at the way your voice broke into a sob right at the end. You never thought that you would be violated on the cold, hard floor by an unhinged psychopath, but fate always finds a way to screw with us, they say.

 “Do you know who I am, princess?” The man asked with a smug, arrogant expression on his face. You shook your head in response. In an alternative universe you might have thought that the intruder was quite handsome – broad shoulders, dark green eyes, a well defined jaw line and a strong muscular body. But in the current situation the only word you could use to describe the dangerous fellow was insane. He had shamelessly attacked you in your own home, your supposed safe heaven, and showed no remorse whatsoever. “You might not know me, but I know you.” The man continued. “I used to work with your father. ” His gaze was now fixed on you. “I doubt that daddy dearest has ever shared with you what he does for a living, but tell you, it isn’t pretty.” The trespasser lowered his head to bite at the soft skin of your neck, making the hairs on your neck bristle due to the unexpected contact with his teeth and because of that you couldn’t even register the hurtful words he was spitting about your father. You didn’t want to believe him anyways. “But he made a mistake.” The man added, still licking your sensitive skin. “The bastard messed with the wrong people. Stole money from my boss too. Lots and lots of it.”

 “T-that can’t be true.” You moaned in discomfort against your better judgment and tried to kick at his joints out of impulse. But of course, he quickly grabbed your leg before any damage was done and pinned it back to the floor.

 “Oh, but it is, princess. And that’s where I come into the picture.” The man purred contentedly, his attention on you once again. “I am quite infamous in the underworld, ya see. ” He stopped to make air quotes with his fingers. “ My name is Edgar, I am an assassin. I would kill anyone and everyone for the right price. ” For a second the murderer stared at intensely. You could swear that his eyes turned red in a spar of moments and in them you saw a mixture of bloodlust and a desire for flesh. “So when  they asked me to hunt you down in order to mess with your dad, I obviously agreed. It started off as a way to make an easy buck, but the more I followed you around and collected private information, the more I postponed killing you.” The man sighed, seemingly frustrated with himself. “At first I thought that I wanted to plan out your disposal well ahead of time and that’s why I was wasting so much time, but soon enough I realized I was interested in you.” He smiled softly this time as if he was recalling a pleasant memory, involving you. “You were so sweet, so… normal. I wanted you.”  The assassin admitted at last and took a deep breath. His little confession had made you vivid, frantic with worry, and suddenly you were a living, breathing creature again. You scratched at the back of his neck and summoned all of your strength left to get your hand out of his grasp. You tried to punch him right in the face, but your attempts were fruitless as he easily overpowered you. Before you could strike again the ruthless killer picked up his knife from next to you and put the blade under your chin. His eyes sparkled with childlike excitement.

 “There is no point in fighting me. Everyone already thinks you’re dead, I made sure of it.” The man moved the edge down, stopping at your cleavage. He licked his lips suggestively and the alarms in your mind went crazy all over again. “Your life belongs to me – your body and your heart too. I will take you right here and there is nothing you can do to stop me.” Edgar laughed cruelly as he cut the fabric of your blouse, revealing your chest, hidden by your plain bra. With one swift move the string holding it together was ripped apart and your upper body was fully exposed to the hungry eyes of the stranger. He cupped your breasts with his palms and massaged them gently, twisting your erect nipples lightly with his fingers. You wanted to numb the unfortunately pleasurable feeling but it wasn’t going away as the intruder kept on teasing the swollen tips.

 “S-stop!” You protested, shaking your shoulders violently. Everything was starting to feel too real and you couldn’t let the savage man take away from you something so intimate and personal. In the end he paid no mind to your continuous struggles and selfishly did as he wished.  Soon enough his hand traveled down your thighs, to your crotch. Edgar slid his wrist beside the elastic waistband of your panties and wasted no time, starting to rub the sweet spot between your legs. You held back a moan, as the embarrassment washed over you.

 “Don’t hold your voice back, princess.” The assassin growled in your ear, pressing harder on your sensitive bud. You couldn’t help, but cry out due to the intense pleasure you were receiving. “Yeah, just like that, let me hear you.” The man kept fingering you, while you arched your back, and eventually you felt yourself getting damp down there. The killer chuckled, satisfied with your cute reaction and the way you were squirming around his forefinger.

 “You act like you hate all of this, but your pussy is so wet, baby.” He suddenly drew his fingers in and out of your entrance, making a lewd pop of splashing juices just to get his point across. “You might turn out to be a little slut after all, huh.” Edgar whispered in your ear and licked the trace of salty tears down your scarlet cheeks. Your face felt red and hot, your eyes were still shut tight. The way his touch made you feel was so invasive, yet ecstatic none the less

 After the man had stretched you properly, he was ready to claim his prize. The assassin had spent so much time stalking you, following you, desiring you and now he finally had you in his arms, exposed and split open for him alone. Moving down to leave wet kisses and love bites along your shoulders and collarbone, the intruder lowered himself onto your tight, sloppy hole and you felt his hard erect member rubbing onto your tight entrance. A new powerful wave of hot, choking tears fell down your cheeks as you shook your head violently.

 “Please, I am begging you, don’t do it!” You whimpered, defeated and light-headed from the fear, arousal and adrenaline, pumping in your veins. Edgar ignored your pathetic pleas and instead decided to shut you up by gently pressing his lips against yours, moaning into his little seal of love. He pushed his big throbbing cock into your heat ruthlessly, unable to wait any longer, simply using your wetness as a lube. The murderer started thrusting into you in a steady, harsh rhythm, without giving you the time to adjust to his inhuman length. In just a few minutes your mind had stopped worked and you were reduced to a mumbling mess of tiny moans and mewls.

 “S-shit, you feel so good, princess. So fucking tight.” The man exclaimed, breathing heavily and quickly moving his hips back and forth along the way. One particular move of his send you very close to the edge and your walls clenched down on his dick, which didn’t go unnoticed. “Did I hit your sweet spot?” The man smirked, running a hand trough his sweaty dark hair. The other one went straight to your nipples, twisting and rolling them once again. You couldn’t stop yourself from crying out in unwanted, but intense pleasure. “Wanna cum, baby?” Edgar teased, as he touched every part of you  – your breasts, your belly and your soft thighs. “Wanna squirt all over my cock?” The criminal kept taunting you, driving you crazy little by little. “Do it. Cum for me, princess.” Soon enough your sensitive, over stimulated body convulsed as the powerful hot orgasm washed over you. You felt dizzy, tired and lost. Unfortunately, the crazed man wasn’t finished yet – he kept thrusting and thrusting, until he finally released into your very core.

 Once his breathing calmed down, the intruder pecked your cheek tenderly, pulling you in his lap. It went better than he had imagined it would.

 “You did so well, princess. So good for me.” Edgar stroked your hair lightly, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. But you couldn’t make half of his words as exhaustion and shame overtook your tired mind, the voice in your head screaming louder than the man’s love affirmations. But maybe it was better that way – anything else would be too painful after everything that had happened. “You are mine now.” The killer spoke after a while, before hugging you even tighter. Soon enough you would realize there wasn’t an easy way out of his warm, deathly embrace.

[fandom-scatteredthoughtsonpaper]

This is gonna sound messed up (I understand if you don’t wanna do it, you don’t have to) but I’d love to request head cannons of the Brothers reacting to an MC that’s just over everything. They keep a blank expression, not even phased by the monsters and magic in the Devildom, doesn’t care about the threats they get from demons around them (Brothers included), and even encourages them to kill them since they don’t really have anything to look forward to in life. When asked why they’re like this, MC would shrug and say “Not like anyone’s gonna care or miss me. I’m still not safe here 😐 *recalls how often they were threatened/nearly killed by the brothers*”

Other examples are like:

Lucifer: That could’ve killed you! *was pissed*

MC: I know, why did you think I did it? 😶

Belphagor:*is mad at MC*

MC: Go ahead and kill me again. Make sure I stay dead this time ☺️

Firstly, I wanna say sorry for taking so long with your request. Secondly, I hope I did justice to what you were wanting!

GN MC THAT'S DONE WITH EVERYTHING SCENARIOS WITH BROTHERS

Trigger warning: Suicide idealization, death cravings

Usual expectations would have been a bigger emotional response, a predictable reaction in astonishment and disbelief, or a suddenly broadened mindset that could range from stupefaction to incredulity to consternation based on the revelations that there actually was a heaven and hell, or close enough to what human concepts have conjured up in equivalent terms to the Celestial Realm and Devildom, but you were just an exhausted human that got unapologetically pulled into this transfer student program thing.

Maybe living with demons could have some benefits though.

Mammon:

-Mammon had left you alone outside in the courtyard of the school while he ran back inside, promising to be back in a few minutes, claiming to have forgotten something or another.

-That was fifteen minutes ago.

-It's not like you had any plans for anything special, but the long wait was gradually chipping away at your patience. You glanced at the time on your D.D.D. before pocketing the device. You were giving him a few more minutes, but then you were going home on your own

-As you loitered next to the doorway you lackadaisically watched the passing demons as they came and went, some grouping together to chat around the entrance

-You weren't paying attention to anything in particular as you absentmindedly looked around, but you noticed suspicious glances when you would turn your eyes to the doorway for Mammon

-A nearby group of demons that had clustered together were talking in hushed tones with harsh cackles

-You had a suspicion that you might be a topic, but you chose to ignore them and their pitched laughter that fell just as quickly as it erupted. It wasn't a concern to you what they were discussing.

-Patience finally expired, you moved away from your waiting spot against the wall to leave when you saw a trio of demons separate from the group that had been stealing looks at you earlier

-They encircled you and blocked your way. The courtyard seemed to quickly fall quiet as the demons smiled nastily and began making jeers

-"Where's your whipped bodyguard, human?"

-"Mammon probably bounced, because there's no incentive for him to stick around if there's no money involved."

-Something about that quip was funny to the demons, but it didn't strike a cord with you, so you remained mute as they laughed

-Something about your indifference or lack of reaction to their intimidation must have annoyed the one to your left a bit too much, because he moved towards you aggressively, his smile a snarling frown. A sudden blur behind him caught his arm that had begun the motions of a punch and jerked him backwards, causing him to stagger and fall

-Mammon immediately placed himself between you and the other two demons. His presence emitted a threat more awe-inspiring than these chump change demons could have hoped to muster, and they quickly retreated to their clique that dispersed in a hurry

-Mammon, after watching the demons scurry away, turned to you and started mother-henning and making comments about how you should have called him and chastising you for letting yourself get into that mess.

-You shrugged off his hands and began your way to the courtyard's exit, leaving a perturbed Mammon to trail after you, fussing at you to care a bit more about the situation.

-"You're actin' like you're totally unphased! Are ya wantin' a death wish or something?"

-"I was just doing what you told me about dying if you couldn't save me."

Beelzebub (and Asmo):

-You had developed a mean habit when you hung around Beel.

-You would pick food off of his plate when he would sit next to you, teasing him that a little missing wouldn't hurt him. You would also freely browse through his bag of favorite sweets and eat them in full view of him.

-It was fun tempting him to try something against the puny human that kept stealing his food, and you could see the growing frustration. It was apparent in his eyes, in the way he watched you when you came around if food was in his presence.

-You knew at some point Beel would finally reach his limits and go off, considering what had happened when Mammon had eaten his custard, but you hadn't expected it to be on an occasion you hadn't prompted anything.

-It was during afternoon when you had entered the kitchen you saw Asmo leaning against the counter, eating from a container that looked suspiciously familiar. It was a pudding cup that had Madame Scream's logo on the lid. You noticed on the side a warning was written: "You touch it, you die."

-That was definitely a snack Beel had purchased, and Asmo was eating it without any awareness

-Beel came into the kitchen shortly after you, making a beeline for the refrigerator. He began rummaging through the contents on the shelves and in the drawers

-Asmo and you quietly watched Beel as he searched through the fridge and freezer before Asmo asked what he was looking for.

-"A pudding I bought from Madame Scream's. It was from a batch that they're not selling anymore for a while. It was the last one."

-You saw Asmo's face go through a series of emotions as he connected the dots, dreaded uncertainty to fearful realization to a timorous epiphany. He shot you a nervous look before he quietly shuffled to the nearby trash can

-You glanced at the mostly empty cup as Asmo tried to escape the kitchen, but he froze in his steps when Beel slammed the fridge door closed, resulting in you both jumping in surprise. You were impressed that you didn't hear a loud clatter of stuff breaking from the force.

-"It's not in there."

-You could hear the gears turning in Asmo's head as he tried to think of an excuse while looking like a deer in headlights. It was painfully obvious that Asmo was guilty.

-Beel turned away from the fridge and his gaze shifted between Asmo, the culprit, and you, the heckling human. Beel inevitably decided to question Asmo first, taking his focus off you. Your eyes flicked to the trash can and you swiped up the pudding container.

-You could hear Asmo as he began to desperately stutter out incomplete excuses as Beel heatedly interrogated him.

-"Beel!"

-Asmo and Beel turned their attention to you as you held up the cup. You unapologetically admitted you ate it. You also confessed you knew it had been Beel's because of the warning, but you still ate it regardless.

-Beel's face darkened, so much rage emanating from him that you swear you coulda seen vapors wafting around his body. Asmo had backed away from Beel. You clutched the pudding cup hard enough to crumple it as you anticipated for the outburst, eager and fearful.

-Except nothing like that happened. Beel let out a deep sigh that seemed to release the growing emotions, and he deflated, his shoulders drooping and an almost hurt expression visible.

-Beel mumbled something that you couldn't quite catch, maybe an apology to Asmo, and then left the kitchen, hungry and disheartened.

-Asmo blinked in amazement at the doorway before he was at you side, happily enveloping you into a too tight hug. He began gushing his gratitude and praising you in compliments for your selflessness, but you felt a disappointed void in your chest.

-"That's not what I had been hoping for."

-Asmo, misunderstanding your statement, eagerly dropped an invitation to his room later so he could thank you properly, but you'd rather he just eat your heart instead.

Belphegor:

-There was something in the atmosphere that would always change if Belphie was around

-You could feel the curious sensation when you passed in the hallways and the stairs or if the only people left in a room were you two

-The air would shift to an awkward strained feeling or something would be just on the brink of uneasy

-Personal boundaries were stiffly maintained, glances were ungraciously hidden, any exchange of words were short and tense, like something would fracture if the wrong action was done or if there was hidden offense just a syllable away

-The uncomfortable undertones were logically sensible, considering your past circumstances with Belphie

-Except...

-This behavior was only demonstrated from Belphie. You were perfectly neutral to the outcome of what he had done to you, maybe a little bummed if you had to silently confess.

-Since his murderous outburst, Belphie had made a few attempts at making amendments with you

-You didn't see a fault that needed to be forgiven, so you ignored them. If anything, Belphie should be apologizing for accomplishing to kill you but failing at keeping you deceased.

-Whenever you thought back to that dead version of yourself, broken and limp, cradled in Mammon's lap, you felt a tingle of jealousy, like you had been cheated of something.

-You had been lost in an immersion with a book you had borrowed from Satan when a weight on the other side of the couch brought you back to cognizance. You saw from your peripheral vision that it was Belphie, clutching his pillow that he always carried around

-He fiddled with the tassel, his stare unfocused as he seemed to be thinking of how to begin yet another discussion that you weren't interested in, mainly because you assumed he would try to slip another apology in at some point

-You sighed, closed your book, and shifted your focus to Belphie, who was staring at you with his usual lazy stare but with an uncertain curiosity. Normally, he was the first to initiate conversations, but you were over this monotonous exchange.

-You were going to put an end to it.

-You leaned forward, invading the space bubble that Belphie had been careful to keep around you, and he pushed himself into the cushion of the couch, uncomfortable by your sudden approach.

-"If you feel so bad for your attempt at murdering me, you should skip the apologies and just kill me again. This time make sure I stay dead."

Leviathan:

-Levi was grumbling as he was sorting his prized possessions into piles of keep, trade in, sell, or give away, while you toiled away in the background just organizing, wondering why you had to be involved in helping clean his room

-Levi had stormed up to you, agitated and sniffling, and started a rant about how Lucifer just doesn't understand how hard it is for him to choose between his precious cherishables.

-Lucifer had apparently made an ultimatum with Levi that it was time to sort through his collection of games, manga, collectible figures, and anything else that he had, or he would come in and do it himself

-He had begged you to let him store some of his items in your room, just for a little while, just until Lucifer got off his case, but you immediately shot him down. You weren't going to be pulled into whatever trouble waited for Levi down the road.

-That had been your intentions in the beginning, anyway. Levi just wouldn't stop pestering and pleading with you, so you offered to help him sort through his stuff to put an end to it.

-You were just listening to him complain about how no one understands the hardships of being an otaku and the commitments that came with the lifestyle. You mindlessly muttered an "Mhmm" or "Yeah" on occasion to avoid assumptions you were ignoring him and let him prattle on.

-Your legs had gone numb from your sitting position, so you stretched them out, which resulted in an urge to stretch your whole body. You leaned back and let yourself drop backwards, bored because Levi was only placing things in the keep pile.

-You had thought your back was going to make contact with the cool floor, except it hadn't. Instead you felt a sharp stab and something uncomfortable shortening your fall. The sudden and unexpected loud crinkling noises that caused your instincts to shoot you back up and Levi to snap his head around in your direction were good indicators that you had accidentally reclined on the pile you had accumulated behind you that Levi handed to you to reconsider later.

-Some boxes were very noticeably bent and crumpled, the plastic display windows creased and wrinkled from enduring your full weight and being crushed. The dolls inside the boxes were alright for the most part, the top ones being the most disturbed.

-As you were trying to separate the damaged boxes and the boxes that made it out unscathed from your carelessness, you felt an intimidating presence approach from behind.

-The dark energy emitted was spine-chilling, threatening, and familiar. You peeked over your shoulder to see Levi, silent but radiating an aura of anger that could drown you. He towered over you in his demon form, his tail lashing from side to side.

-Levi snatched the box of a Seraphina figurine out of your hand and began inspecting it. The plastic window was beyond savable and the box frame was squished and torn around the corners. The figurine was a little skewered from her original spot, held in place by twist ties, but was otherwise just fine.

-"This was the limited edition of Seraphina in an actual seraphim-inspired outfit! The box was even designed to match her, so it was like a set! It's completely ruined now!"

-Levi grabbed another dented package with a Ruri-chan figurine inside and ranted about how it was another limited edition and very rare exclusive item because it had been based off a failed spinoff of The Magical Ruri Hanai: Demon Girl.

-You had practically been shoved aside as Levi rummaged through the pile, angrily talking to himself about how he shouldn't have trusted a normie with his precious possessions, lamenting at the loss in value (if he had decided to part with them), and apologizing to the figurines.

-"They're just dolls. There's no reason to be so upset, Levi."

-His hand abruptly snapped out and sharply jerked you forward. An electrifying sensation shot down your spine as Levi pierced his eyes into yours. A fury was burning hot in them.

-You were forcibly pulled to your feet as Levi stood, tugging you unceremoniously to his bedroom door. He shoved you out and his door cracked with a loud slam.

-You stood in the hallway, dazed and dumbfounded. The jarring rise of emotions settled flatly in your stomach. After a moment, you hummed disappointedly. You had thought for sure Levi would have done something different.

Lucifer (and Satan):

-"What did you expect to gain from your actions?"

-You opened your mouth to answer, but Lucifer held his hand up to silence you.

-"He would have killed you. Did you even think of what the outcome could have done to Diavolo or the entire transfer student program? You are completely irresponsible."

-You tried to voice your opinion, but Lucifer shot a glance that shut your mouth permanently. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

-You reclined back on the sofa and watched Lucifer as he collected himself to continue on.

-You should have known better, and you did, but the temptations to provoke Satan were too much to ignore. Insulting him, taking Belphie's suggestions to annoy Satan to the next level, "borrowing" books from his room, leaving the library table a disorganized mess, comparing him to Lucifer when you saw openings.

-It was that last one that finally broke Satan enough. He had tried to make you put away the books you had gotten out, you said you didn't have to listen to him, he mentioned something about learning manners and your place, you commented he sounded like Lucifer and egged him on after he warned you to stop.

-Satan had exploded into a fit. To be honest, you underestimated the severity of his anger.

-You had blinked and Satan had transformed, you had inhaled and Satan had cut off your air flow. The grip on your throat had been tight and excruciating to the point of numbness. You tried to pry his hands away on reflex, but he had simply applied more strength to his hold.

-You remember feeling deprived of sensation throughout your body as blackness creeped into your vision.

-A distant, heavy thud, muted voices behind a thick veil, and the perception of falling were the last remnants you could recall before waking up in Lucifer's room

"You obviously don't care about your own well-being. I didn't think it was necessary to employ a babysitter to you at home as well, but I don't think any of my brothers will be inclined to watch over you. Why can't you just behave and follow the rules set in place to keep you safe?"

-You locked your eyes with Lucifer and casually shrugged. "I have a death wish."

If you have any headcanons that you want me to write, please send them my way! I enjoy writing them out. NSFW is okay, but please know I might not do it. ❤️

[space-blue]

Dune, the mostly spoiler free review.

Spoilers will be under breaks.

Having slept on it (and since I got to bed at 4am I needed that), and having eaten enough sugar to kickstart my brain again, I can now confirm, wholeheartedly, that Dune is a masterpiece.

Hardly a hot take on the internet right now, I know. I'll say this, to start on a low note : Dune's greatest flaw is that the side characters (anyone outside of Jessica and Paul) can be left wanting development. Some non-book readers might struggle to get attached.

The film simply doesn't have time to deliver narrative, mood and emotional characters the way Fellowship of the Rings did, as I often see the film compared to LOTR. Unlike LOTR, Dune has not shot part 2, and it doesn't have enough action beats/plot beats to give you engaging character interactions for 1/3 of the story.

As a result some characters seem to be "seen in passing". Which... Bothered me a little at 3am, but has since faded. My memories turn to Jessica and how incredible Fergusson was. Absolutely show stealing. And Skarsgard!! Yeesh, the Baron Harkonnen does not need more screen time to be intimidating...

All the cast delivers. The visuals, design, costume, photography... It's clear to me everyone involved in this was at the top of their craft and giving it their all for a career turning point of a production. I even struggle to believe book 2 could land such a punch again, I mean, I've rarely been punched in the face this hard by a movie...

I mean, I'm not the type to be into spaceships or anything. I even struggle with models in the Star Wars universe and I published 58 fan fics for that fandom so... And yet in this film, hah... When the Atreides ships are introduced (you see these big transports in the trailer) I was like "No. He didn't... OMG the madlad, he did." — the music, the visuals, the scale... And then there's the thopters, and I was having moments of prescience myself, seeing actual ship/spaceship nerds rise up, foam frothing at the mouth. Modeling thopters and making videos about them for years to come.

The audio was loud, bold. The music alien. The sound mixing done so well I had a snappy thought 2min in, along the lines of "I hope Nolan sits to this film and learns something about sound mixing from this" (don't @ me, I'm still spicy about my viewing of Tenet).

In short, Dune is spectacular. It oozes with mythos and charm, feels lived in, intimidating yet beguiling. The plot is as sound as the book's the visuals are a cinema/SFF fan's wet dream, the acting and production value are stupid crazy, and the only drawback IMO — for non book readers — will be the "in passing" characters (like Raban, Piter, Gurney, Hawat... Who simply don't have the space and time to shine yet) and the ending, which is 100% "INSERT CD 2"

It feels jarring and leaves you begging for more. But book readers probably won't feel the same pang, since we can now close our eyes and image how bonkers part two can be in such visuals.

I've over-heard old french people saying it was super boring and slow and... lol I can't disagree more, but then again the trailer does market an action movie, and the film is not any more action packed than BR2049 was. When the action comes calling it's big, fast... When it isn't, the movie is moody, deliberate, and meticulous.

It won't be for everyone, but if you've so much as "enjoyed" the books, you'll be having the experience of a lifetime.

Before I delve into some mild spoilers I'd like to make a disclaimer: Denis has begged people to see Dune in cinema, and I was thinking "of course, what film maker wouldn't want people in cinema?" but also suspected he might want the numbers in order to get part 2 started.

I owe him an apology for these impure thoughts. You MUST watch Dune in cinema, not for Denis or part 2 (though, come on...), but for YOURSELF. There is not a single home cinema set up that can do justice to this film. It's the definition of why you go to the cinema for. It's epic in scale, it makes you jump at startling moments, it punches and screams at you, and makes you squint at others, and you walk out of there with a sense of having witnessed something like... To me, like Interstellar. Remember seeing that docking sequence scene in the theater and walking out being like "holy shit" ? Well Dune is very much like that. It was made for the big screen, and anything short of IMAX or Dolby ATMOS would be a disservice to both the film and yourself.

I will be seeing it in France the instant it comes out in September. It begs rewatching.

Now for some spoilery thoughts (mild spoilers, and a warning for further spoilers below).

The film takes surprisingly little time to delve on certain topics. Like the spice. Sure you're told it's important, and the economics that drive the story make it feel important, but not nearly as much as I suspected it would be. There is no clunky exposition on the topic (lol no fucking time for that!) no scene where someone shoves spice in your face and goes “oh but blah blah spice must flow”. It’s said in passing and newcomers better hold on to their seat and pay attention.

Sadly though a fair bit of the dialogue was expositional imo, and too little of it over all felt like that heart warming moment between Paul and Leto. It's not a big drawback, but since I enjoy more character driven stories, I regretted the lack of general emotional investment.

On the point of emotions though, I was taken aback by Jamis! The scene of him in the trailers "I'll show you"... creates a sort of very subtle and implied dynamic that was probably one of the biggest heart punch for me, and started driving home how dire Paul's visions can be. I suspect some viewers won't interpret it the way I did though.

THE VOICE WAS SO WELL MADE YOU GUYS!! The thopter escape scene was always a "meh, sure, they get away" moment for me in the books. Good teamwork between Paul and Jessica... But *hearing it* was a completely different business. I was at the edge of my seat, I LOVED IT.

There's also a lot of actual signing in the film! And the Sardaukar don't speak english but a super guthural language. Kind of like making a conlang merging German and the Black Speech of Mordor and giving it to a Danish to speak. Felt very cool.

The shields were just as badass as you think they'll be. The slow impact weapons are just... *chef kiss*

Finally some heavy spoilers on book story details (jihad, Muad'dib, some characters) :

There is no mentions of Jihad, but not because it's avoided. The visions of a fight Paul has are rare, and he mentions them once. At that time he says war or massacre but not Jihad. I didn't notice until I was asked.

He also doesn't chose the name Muad'Dib. If I recall that's right after killing Jamis, but doesn't happen here, even if we see the literal muad'dib in the desert. It's also fine. Those scenes were at the very end, and I felt like slamming newcomers with such a significant moment with alien language at the very end might be a mistake. I'm curious to see how it's handled in part 2 though.

I was looking forward to Piter... His role is uber minor. As much as Hawat's. Like, the Bull that killed Leto's father gets more screen time, funnily enough. There's a heavy imagery around it that's going to fuel many video essays.

[kaitycole]

Two Worlds Collide

Summary: Liam and Luke talk, Liam visits his mother’s actual resting spot and Liam goes back to Walker Ranch.

Word Count: 2014

Pairings: Drake x Riley, Jackson x Eleanor

Warnings: Mentions of character death, loss of a mother, 

A/N: Just a reminder, here’s a link to my character profiles if you’re interested. You learn somethings about a few that won’t be written directly in the series: here.

Song Choice: n/a

Part 18 of WP. To catch up, read here.

It doesn’t take Luke long at all to find Riley on social media. It also didn’t hurt that she seemed to lack privacy settings. He was a bit shocked at how quickly she replied and gave him the information he inquired. So here he sits, a foreign number on his phone waiting to be filed. Call or text? Most people his age text; the thoughts of holding a verbal conversation was just anxiety inducing.  However, would a king text? Just thinking like this caused Luke to short circuit. He decides to leave the decision up to his older brother.

Luke: It’s Luke, can we talk? (8:40 am)

Liam scrunches his face when he hears his personal cellphone start to buzz. There were only a handful of people who had the number and only a few of them actually used it. He almost ignores the unsaved number but doesn’t.

“Uhm, excuse me.” Liam stands up from the kitchen table, leaving the breakfast Riley has prepared and steps outside.

He starts typing before deleting it and starting over. He does this a few times before giving up momentarily. He really wasn’t someone who enjoyed texting, there was too much left unknown about tone and meaning. It was usually only Riley that he’d even humor texting back half the time, but he wasn’t sure about Luke.

Liam: What would you like to talk about? (8:51 am)

Luke is pacing around his room, worried he might have offended his brother. Maybe he should’ve asked Riley, or maybe she had sent him another message and he missed it. Quickly switching back to the social media app, he scrolls but finds no message detailing whether or not he should text or call Liam.

Part of him wants to just go back in time and not have sent the message, but when his phone finally buzzes, he feels relief.

Luke: There’s somewhere I’d like to show you. Are you free? (8:54 am)

Liam looks at his screen, sitting down on the back-porch steps. He really wasn’t ready to go back to the ranch or to even see Jackson. Drake had just barely forgiven him for punching Jackson and he’s sure if it wasn’t for Riley, Drake wouldn’t have been so understanding.

But at the same time, he really doesn’t want to disappoint his brother.

Liam: I don’t think I should be around Jackson today. I am sorry. (9:02 am)

Luke figured that would be the case which is why he has no plans on them being at the ranch, to be honest he doesn’t want to be around his father himself.

Luke: Good thing where we are going isn’t near the ranch, eh? Wanna go? (9:06 am)

Liam: Where should I pick you up? (9:07 am)

Liam shakes his head with a laugh, if looks didn’t prove they were related, the clear evidence of this mother’s laidback attitude surely would.

*                      * “It’s just up here, around this corner.” Luke says to Bastien as they drive silently. Shortly after Luke had given Liam the address of the corner store he had been waiting at, he was picked up and the two brothers started their journey.

The ride, for the most part, is silent, the directions Luke gives the guard being the only ones spoken, but it’s comfortable. There’s something about being around each other that both Luke and Liam enjoy.

“This is it. We can walk from here.” Luke says, rushing to take his seatbelt off and jump out the door just as Bastien pulls the car to a stop.

“Walk? Are you sure about this, Your Majesty?” Bastien doesn’t even try to mask his hesitation; Liam had refused to allow the guard to do any investigating/background checks on his younger brother, though the king already knew he had them waiting if he ever wanted them.

“I’m not going to take him out in a cemetery, how morbid.” Luke teases and Liam fails at holding in a chuckle; Bastien just glares.

“It’s fine, Bas.” Liam rests a calming hand on the guard’s shoulder before looking at Luke, “lead the way before you give my best guard a heart attack.”

Luke tilts is head to the right, “this way.”

They share a brief amount of small talk, mostly about things they recall about their mother. Luke has more memories but they both just find comfort in hearing about their mother, Luke asks a little about this Leo he heard about the other day.

“He seems like the opposite of you.”

Liam laughs, “I hear that a lot. But he can be a really decent guy when he wants to.”

“Here we are.” Luke points at the freshly cleaned gravesite. Liam feels a knot form in his throat as he tries to swallow it, his heart drops.

When he learned his mother had left Cordonia, he felt a relief when he went to her grave in the royal cemetery. To be completely honest, he had felt silly for all the years of going there to talk when in reality he was talking to an empty casket. But here, now, this was it. She really was here, there was no more hopeful thinking that she was still alive somewhere, this casket was full.

Liam feels himself get uneasy, his legs act as if they might give out, causing him to extend a hand to press it against the tree nearby. He’s not sure why, but he feels sick and he for a brief moment regrets not begging Olivia to accompany him; he knows it’s wrong to put that emotional burden on her, but in this instance, he needs no one but her. Luke clearly picks up on him unease and reaches out for his brother.

“I’m sorry, if it’s too much, I can go get Bastien.”

“No, no I’m fine.” He clears his throat, “I just realized that she’s really here. At home, it’s empty, but this one isn’t.”

It finally dawns on Luke that all the years that he had Eleanor, Liam grieved her. Liam didn’t get birthdays and holidays with his warm and loving mother, but instead he only had the comfort of what he thought was her resting place. He knows that Liam already told him that he doesn’t blame him, that the decision was between their parents, but how can he not feel guilty in some way? How can he just not feel as if he’s part of the reason his older brother grew up without a mom, how his other brother and sister grew up with their dad.

“I’ll uh, give you some time.” Luke waits for Liam to nod before he walks a little bit away, stopping when he sees Bastien walking towards him.

“How is he?” Bastien doesn’t look at Luke, rather his gaze is trained on Liam. It hurt him to see the King like this, he’s known him for years, watched him grow up, and Bastien himself had also mourned the loss of the Queen and guardsman. He’s been trained in various fighting styles, both offensive and defensive types, but he didn’t know anything to help the King right now.

“Better than I would be.” His voice cracks which gets Bastien’s attention, “I don’t know how he doesn’t hate me or maybe he’s just that good at lying.” “King Liam doesn’t lie.” Bastien’s voice is steady, his words clear and concise. “He’s a fair person, so if he said he doesn’t hate you then he simply doesn’t. There’s no reason for him to, is there?”

“It’s my fault he lost his mom.”

“Children often end up carrying the burdens of their parents’ decisions. Liam understand that more than most.”

Luke looks at the black-haired man in a suit, feeling an odd sense of relief even though his words were a bit riddle-like. He stands there next to Bastien, silently, allowing Liam the time to actually finally grieve.

*                      * “I’ve been doing this for years, but this time it feels awkward.” He laughs, looking at the tombstone with his mother’s name. This time is different than all the times he visited her so-called grave in Cordonia, this time she was actually here which makes him feel suddenly self-conscious about talking to her. Not to mention he knows Bastien and Luke are close by which just adds to the anxiety.

“I know I couldn’t possibly understand what you went through, how scared you must have been especially of Constantine. But that doesn’t mean I’m not mad at you because part of me is. You just left me, left me with him all alone and came here to raise your new family.” Tears start to slip down his cheeks, part of him hating the fact that he’s mad at the one woman he’s always held up.

“I won’t understand why you made the decisions that you did nor can I judge the ones you made, but I’m struggling to give that same curtesy to Jackson. You would probably tell me to judge you both equally since you were both involved in the decisions made, but I can’t. Everyone says that I was born to be King and a fair ruler,” he trails off, “oh yeah, I’m the King, Mom. Leo abdicated.”

“But how am I fair when I can’t be fair in a personal matter? Though you’d probably tell me that it’s normal to not think clearly when personal feelings are in play, that there’s councils for those moments, but where’s my council for this? I don’t want your memory tarnished in Cordonia, but other than Olivia, I have no one to talk to at court that I trust with this.”

Olivia expressed hesitation on him even coming, which is why he’s avoided calling her. Riley also didn’t care for Jackson, so she wasn’t exactly as third party as he needed nor was Drake who in Liam’s opinion was too caught up on the fact his dad was alive rather than what his dad did all those years ago.

Liam starts crying, not really caring to hide it. He wasn’t in Cordonia, he isn’t King right now, he doesn’t need to appear strong when he’s falling apart inside. He raises his hand to place it on the top of the tombstone, dragging it down slowly to trace the engraved letters of her name. His voice breaks as the sobs wedge their way in between his words, “I needed you…I need you, Mom.”

He leans his head back, letting out a deep breath and taking one in, trying to calm himself. He realizes that he never really cried at her grave in Cordonia, only ever at her portrait and maybe some how he knew, but he thinks it’s mostly because kings don’t show their emotions in public. Standing up, he pats the tombstone, realizing who he really needs to talk to about all of this, who can actually give him the answers that he needs.

*                      * “You know, today’s been pretty emotional, you can always come back tomorrow.” Luke tries to reason with Liam, mostly wanting the chance to talk to Jackson before Liam does. Though Luke can’t be sure if Jackson would even be telling the truth if he talked to Luke separately or all of them together.

“As much as the idea of a lengthy stay is ideal, I do have a country to run so I can’t drag out these things.” “Oh, yeah.” Luke is still struggling to comprehend his eldest brother’s life and title. Maybe he was being selfish, but all he really wanted was to sit down and just chat with him, like brothers do, right?

Liam smile, patting his younger brother’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, regardless of the continent I plan on being a good big brother.”

Luke looks away, cheeks blushing before he shakes off Liam’s hand, “I wasn’t worried.”

“Luke, where on earth have you been?” Jackson comes rushing out the front door, ruining the small moment between the brothers before his eyes land on Liam and he stops. “Liam.”

“Jackson, I think we have a lot to talk about.”

[secret-diary-of-an-fa]

God of War (PS4) Review: Kratos’ Postal Grief Beard Versus Norse Mythology

Once upon a time, a man was born by the name of Cory Barlog and thus a coin was flipped. Would he become a videogame developer or would he take up guarding the Mines of Moria by pulling wizards into a precipice? Those really are the only two options with a name like Barlog. Anyway, apparently the Mines of Moria were a bit of a commute, so the world gained a talented Auteur developer with a unique vision for a game series about going postal in ancient Greece. Fast-foward a number of years specifically calculated to make you feel old and ancient Greece is a distant memory. Norse mythology is where all the cool kids hang out nowadays, and that’s where we’re going in today’s review.

As you might have guessed, I’ve just finished playing God of War (PS4), which is fun to say because it rhymes. It’s a very good game that should be a very bad game. When considering modern media artefacts, I’m often prompted to ask the question ‘what went so wrong?’, but this may be the first time I’ve had to ask the question ‘what went so right?’.

Let me explain: God of War 4 (I don’t care that they don’t put the number on the box art, that’s what it fucking is) makes a single, monumentally stupid creative decision that should ruin the entire enterprise, but doesn’t. And that creative decision was- wait for it- a stab at maturity.

The last time we saw Kratos- the world’s angriest mythical being- he was finishing his battle with the Greek gods in God of War 3. There was a moment in that game which, to me, typified what was so great about the series. If I recall the sequence of events correctly, you kill your way through an ocean of expendable goons and critters who are just trying to defend their home on Mount Olympus, dripping with blood and screaming furiously, then wander into the bedroom of one of ancient Greece’s sauciest goddesses and play a sex minigame that you win by fucking her so well that her handmaids orgasm too. Then you toddle outside again and, head cleared, solve an incredibly complex and cerebral puzzle involving non-Euclidean geometry and perspective manipulation that takes bloody ages. That, in a nutshell, was the core identity of the original God of War: a gleefully unrestrained and immature approach to sex and violence coupled with a grouchy willingness to make unsuspecting players feel like fucking idiots for no reason whatsoever. It was awesome. In contrast, God of War 4 picks up many, many years later with Kratos hiding out in Midgard of the Norse mythos and, for once, he hasn’t got a nark on and he’s not trying to stick his cock in someone with cartoonishly huge knockers. He’s just sad because his missus has passed away, leaving him and their young, impressionable son alone in a big, scary world full of trolls and ginger psychopaths. ‘Sad’ isn’t a completely new emotion for Kratos, but, up until this point, he was usually sad in a way that resulted in five hundred people getting their spines broken in a very colourful manner. Now he just wants to cremate the remains of the woman he loved and carry her ashes to the tallest peak in the nine realms so he can scatter her in accordance with her final wishes. And that’s what he does, with son- Atreus- in tow. It’s a twenty-plus hour game in which the objective is very simply to honour someone’s preferred funeral rites- nothing more, nothing less. It’s very modest by Kratos usual standards. Remember that his stated goal in the previous game was to punch freakin’ Zeus so hard that his face would go all concave and then repeatedly stamp on his corpse.

We never actually find out much about what Kratos was up to between games or how he met his wife. However, he’s a bit thiccer than in previous instalments and seems to have lost the use of the ‘jump’ button outside of context-sensitive environments. On that evidence, I choose to believe he’s been running a small but successful family restaurant called ‘Kratos’ Potatoes’ and enjoying it all a bit much. And why not? He beat up Zeus- if he just wants to create and sample homely yet exotic Greco-Norse fusion cuisine while growing a ridiculous straggly dad-beard, I say let him crack on. Actually, is it a ‘dad beard’ or is it a ‘grief beard’? I think they send them to videogame characters in the post whenever a loved one dies so they can signal to the world how sad they are through the medium of angsty facial hair. But where was? Oh yeah: cracking on with it.

Y’see this is where the plot comes in: the Norse gods won’t let Kratos crack on. They’re determined to make him bow before Odin- especially Baldur, who is way too invested in having a fight with Kratos for reasons that won’t become apparent until very late in the game. They just keep turning up and trying to break Kratos and his increasingly like-him-but-not-as-good-at-it son Atreus. This time around, our heroes commit heinous acts of violence to defend themselves, not enact revenge, as they travel, inexorably, to the top of a lonely mountain through landscapes of stunning natural beauty and many, many hostile creatures.

Of course, Kratos taking his son on a hiking holiday with added troll-murder and the occasional slap-fight with Norse mythology’s biggest killjoys doesn’t sound as interesting as the original games. After all, those were basically a production of Kill Bill in which the part of Bill was played by a guy with the power to summon lightning bolts and access to a seemingly unstoppable army of monsters and demigods. The ‘fun factor’ even seems to have taken another downgrade, in that Kratos no longer operates with the entertainingly demented passion of the insane: he has been tempered by time and love and managed to turn himself into a paragon of serious self control. So why is God of War 4 so bloody good? Partly, I suspect, the answer lies in the constantly evolving relationship between Kratos and Atreus, which gives the story an unbelievable amount of heart and always manages to feel very organic. Kratos never learned how to be a parent, and we essentially watch him do it in real time, forming a bond with his son that seems impossible at the start of the game and inevitable by the end. Partly, the games greatness lies in the characters you meet along the way, who range from bickering dwarves to talking, decapitated heads who prattle on like laid-back tour-guides. Partly, it’s in the beautiful, epic landscapes that make the journey across the Realms to the highest peak feel epic and significant, even while it is small and personal.

But a videogame is nothing without gameplay, and it is here that God of War 4 really shines. I loved the original God of War trilogy (especially the third instalment), but I rarely felt like I was playing as, y’know, a god of war. Kratos might not be an uncontrollable whirlwind of fury any more, but he feels truly powerful for the first time in the ongoing series. In fights, every punch feels like it could crack stone; every axe-throw like it could rend the sky; every chain-whip like it could legitimately start a forest-fire. Out of combat, Kratos moves around the environment with the stolid grace of a man who knows his movements are inevitable; irresistible; an imposition on the environment that can’t be denied. You climb and complete elaborate, complex traversals knowing that the satisfaction you feel isn’t just the satisfaction of finding the correct route or solving an obstacle, but the satisfaction of a being forcing his way through a landscape that resists him at every turn but cannot stop him. The puzzles- of which there are many- strike the perfect balance between conceptual trickiness and ease of execution to remind you that Kratos is smart as well as determined; that his mind is as indomitable as his body. Then there are the little touches involving heaving huge stone pillars and similar unnecessarily over-the-top efforts. In short, the gameplay is interwoven with who Kratos is- with what he is in way that seems completely unprecedented. Even the RPG elements feel  appropriate: they reflect the protagonist’s growing confidence in a skillet he hasn’t used in a long, long time.

Do I miss the uniquely juvenile, over the top identity of the old games? Absolutely: I’m a great fan of gratuitous gore and scantily clad women with big fuck-off swords. Usually, I find the desire for maturity in games to be a silly, pretentious trend that foolishly eschews anything obviously ‘fun’ for no reason other than courting the respect of people whose respect isn’t worth having. But I don’t think that’s what’s going on here- at least, not entirely. The developers of the God of War games are clearly artisans and craftsmen of extreme talent: their attention to detail is superb and their ability to weave a good tale from a simple premise is actually a little daunting for someone who considers himself a bloody good story-teller. It’s worth remembering that the de facto head of the studio, Barlog, became a father himself before commencing work on this game about a father learning to bond with his son. It feels personal and meant because it is. Other games might reach for superficially mature themes like family and redemption for altogether cynical reasons. God of War 4 does it because such thoughts are clearly much on the developer’s mind. I asked already ‘Do I miss the identity of the old games?’ and the answer is still yes. But that question deserves a follow-up: am I willing to embrace the identity of this new, quieter God of War anyway? And yes, yes I am.

But if we could have a few more women with enormous knockers and Kratos going properly batshit just once or twice in the next sequel, that would also be welcome. I mean, let’s try to strike a balance here, people, for pity’s sake.

[baekberrie]

🌸him&her ➸ bbh pt.6🌸

Genre: fluff, romance, slight angst, highschool AU

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

Tag list: @byunfirstlady​, @cbxtual​, @j-ngin88​

- Previous

The clock ticked 1 am, Baekhyun's heart ticked broken.

He couldn't help but get overwhelmed by the raw emotions of rage, frustration, and guilt when he stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. His lip was busted and bruises were burning painfully on the surface of his skin. A scowl twisted his lips at the sight, how he hated his own reflection. It reminded him of how weak he turned out to be day after day although experiencing things that should've made him grow stronger. And yet, Baekhyun never saw any changes. Especially when he'd observe it after being beaten up for the hundredth time by the same assholes, it counted another hundredth time of failure to stand up for himself. His mother had shed tears when he had returned home that day, with red, swollen eyes and blue marks all over his body, worry pooling her glossy orbs. Not even she did know about how Baekhyun had let himself become the punch bag of some bored bullies.

It had only been a couple of days and Jongdae hadn't shown up at school ever since. Only a couple of days, but truly, they had felt like entire weeks, though, the fresh cuts on his pale skin would always be there to remind him. Normally, there could have been an excuse for Jongdae to skip classes, but this once, even if the male hadn't said so himself Baekhyun knew it was to avoid him. He knew he had to talk to him and clear things out, but he felt so weak, so broken, but most of all scared. Scared that whatever he had to say, Jongdae wouldn't want to hear it because he had lied and betrayed their friendship. The fact that he had gone as far as skipping school to not see him made Baekhyun feel so damn helpless and afraid.

Because of that, Baekhyun had stopped hanging with you. No matter how much he liked you, it just felt so wrong to take in your soft expressions while his heart was somewhere else, while Jongdae was mad at him. So he asked for space, and you had been so understanding that it had truly hurt to be so distant from you when all he wanted was to hear your voice and have you comfort him, it was inevitable for his heart to fall for you all over again. But he couldn't allow himself to think about these things, not now.

He found himself recalling the very moment after he had slammed his belongings onto the floor when consumed by anger like he never had been before. When you had seen him being beaten up, when you had seen him in his most vulnerable state. Baekhyun had been well aware of what you had meant when you had ever so gently put the glasses back on his face, when you had caressed his bruised cheek. That you accepted him for who he was. Though at that moment, he hadn't been able to take the gesture, the amount of hate within had been consuming him, his chest on fire of anger.

"I'm sorry-" he had breathed out. His eyes painfully closed and fingers twitching ever so slightly against your skin. "I need to be alone, for a while." A while meant longer than just a few hours, longer than a day or two, it meant until he made up with jongdae.

Another two days flew past him and it had felt as if he had been standing in the same spot without moving an inch, although he had taken care of a couple of important matters. The bruises on his face hadn't gone unnoticed by the whole school and it had been a matter of time before he and the bullies got involved with the principal himself.

This had been the first time that Baekhyun tasted the true bitter taste of hardship on his very tongue. He had never known that facing confrontation could've been so hard, so scary. For that matter, he had once again realized how much of a coward he truly was. It kept him up at night, the frustration and guilt would take any chance it had to haunt him until he wouldn't be able to feel anything at all. Until he was numb. Every fruitless day he'd tell himself that he was still gathering his courage. But really, he was lying to himself in a desperate attempt to justify his cowardice.

It felt hard, but truly, all he had to do was go to his house and do it. Just do it.

The clock ticked past 1 am, and it was then that the boy felt an intense urge to leave his house. Sleep had been chased long ago- days ago even. He had nothing to lose, nothing but a precious friendship. He figured out that the right moment he had been aimlessly waiting for, would've never come. It all depended on him. Throwing on a random hoodie over his pajama shirt, Baekhyun quietly sneaked out of the house, and in just a few minutes, he was standing in front of Jongdae's porch. He knew that he couldn't possibly knock in the door, so with clammy and shaky hands, he dialed Jongdae's number and called, pressing the electronic to his ear. A disbelieved chuckle almost left Baekhyun's lips at the way he found himself feeling. It was just Jongdae and yet his heart was trembling, threatening to jump out of his throat while his body turned as rigid as a rock.

Baekhyun began losing confidence and hope when the line hit the 9th ring, though, his tongue tied itself in his mouth when he heard the call getting answered, Jongdae's sleepy and extremely annoyed voice reached his ears.

"Who the fuck calls at this hour?" Baekhyun knew that wasn't meant to be heard, but his friend was nothing less than what he used to be any day, any time if the day: loud.

"Hello?" The best friend hissed into the speaker and Baekhyun almost flinched, feeling a sudden urge to end the call and run back home. But he swallowed the dry lump down and stood his ground through the fear and nervousness.

"Jongdae-" He managed to croak breathlessly, "It's me, Baekhyun."

"Baekhyun?" A spark of hope surged in his chest at the suddenly woke tone in Jongdae's voice, mixed with a pleasant surprise that he hadn't been able to hide.

"Yeah. Can you come out for a second? I'm right outside." It was painstakingly obvious how hesitant Jongdae was being behind the wooden door that was by now extremely slowly opening before him. Jongdae's lips were pressed into a thin line when Baekhyun came into his view, being extremely cautious of letting any emotion take over his features. Jongdae's voice void of any emotions as he mumbled a quiet yet seemingly angry "What are you doing here?" that made Baekhyun want to cower away if it hadn't been for his friend's extremely loud eyes betraying the facade he was pulling. Baekhyun could tell the hint of curiosity and relief on Jongdae's face and that was enough to encourage him.

It took him a few nervous gulps to finally part his lips and speak the sentences that for days had been dancing in his mind as he tried to find a proper formulation.

"I am sorry, Jongdae, for lying to you and breaking your trust." At first, Baekhyun hadn't been able to speak any louder than a mere whisper, but his as his gaze settled on the male in front of him and unfocused, words started pouring from his tongue. As if in a dally, Baekhyun felt like he wasn't hearing everything he was saying- as if his heart was speaking.

"I know that you're upset with me, but I just wanted to tell you that I took care of things. I spoke with the principal and th-they got expelled from the school. No more of this madness. I'm sorry for not telling you about them." Baekhyun hoped that Jongdae wasn't upset enough to not spare him an ear for the things he was saying. To his relief, the best friend had indeed listened and had questions as well.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jongdae let go of his facade and let the mix of disbelief and sadness drip through his words, sending a desperate expression in Baekhyun's way. His fists clenched at the sound of his question. Jongdae had never been the problem, and Baekhyun hoped he knew that.

"I-" Teeth drilled into his lip, his thoughts jumbled into the most massive mess, what was he supposed to say? Baekhyun dreaded to pronounce the truth that made him hate himself even more. "I was being prideful. " Baekhyun finally revealed, voice breathy and anxious. "You've always protected me, Jongdae. And I am so thankful, but I couldn't stand hiding behind you anymore, you understand me, right? I wanted to be strong on my own, I wanted to solve this on my own." His head hung low as he shamefully looked down to his feet, his cold fingertips attacking each other in nervous fidgets.

"But I failed miserably."

"Baekhyun-" Before Jongdae could start telling him otherwise Baekhyun shook his head vigorously at him, "No, Jongdae." He said, pushing the round glasses up his nose and the gesture gave Jongdae a slight sensation of nostalgia although it had been only a couple of days. "This is the truth and I'm doing everything I can to accept it."

"I've realized it. That I can't do everything solely with my own strength, it won't ever work out, and that's just how I am. I am not endlessly strong. It sucks to admit but it applies to everyone in the end. Not telling you was a mistake, not getting professional help take care of things was a mistake." A sigh tumbled down his lips as it felt like a huge weight had been finally been lifted from his chest. " It was wrong of me to prioritize not feeling humiliated over my well being."

All this while, Jongdae could do nothing but listen to his best friend pouring his heart to him with wide eyes, words that he had never expected to hear from Baekhyun himself, but that deep down made him feel extremely proud.

Baekhyun then surprised him once more with a sudden lighthearted chuckle, "Even when you're not here, you manage to lead me on the right path, it's crazy." He chimed, referring to Jongdae's absence by his side. "I hope you're still willing to do that?" Baekhyun questioned, intending to ask him to still be his friend, and he knew everything had turned out for the best when Jongdae broke into his usual goofy smile, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug.

"You might as well just say you're in love with me." He laughed hysterically as Baekhyun immediately pushed him away with a shocked, pouty frown on his face and scarlet red cheeks.

"What the fuck, Jongdae? I'm trying to make up for my mistakes and this is what you do?" Baekhyun hissed and crossed his arms over his body as if Jongdae had just violated him. The latter rolled his eyes dramatically and threw an arm over his shoulder, waving his previous words away. "Naw, don't be like that Baek, it's not my fault you're such a girl." He sighed but soon enough, his lips were curling into a sincere smile, a happy glint appearing in his brown orbs. "But I forgive you."

"Speaking of girls, how's the progress with your love interest?" Jongdae asked cheesily, throwing him a sugary smirk that made Baekhyun want to throw up.

"My love life isn't a comic, Jongdae," Baekhyun grumbled, secretly saying that just so that he could buy time before disappointing his friend. Jongdae stiffened at the word comic and the memories it brought back to him. He mumbled something incomprehensible under his breath before clearing his throat weirdly. Though, Baekhyun knew better than to give his antics attention.

They took a seat by the porch and Baekhyun didn't know how to start telling Jongdae that he might've ruined his very few chances with you, scratching his black hair with an indecisive pout on his lips he hummed thoughtfully. "I actually...Well, I kissed her?" Baekhyun started, cringing at the massive gasp that Jongdae let out next to him, probably so that he could hold himself from hollering in the whole neighborhood. "But when you stopped coming to school, I told her I needed to distance myself until things were back into its place." He finally turned his head to gauge Jongdae's reaction, only to feel dread at the excitement vanishing from his face and replaced into anger and disbelief.

"You did what?!" It took all of his strength not to scream or strangle the fearful Baekhyun next to him, so he settled with pinching and slapping him, earning countless ouches echoing in the night. "You dumb- fucking cretin!" he groaned, "Deficient! There is a whole ass Jongin out there as your rival, and you think you can afford to do what you did?!"

"I couldn't just court her while you were being upset with me!" Baekhyun hissed right back at Jongdae once he'd gotten ahold of his abusive hands. "You are also important-" The round glasses slid slightly down the bridge of his nose as he caught himself in the middle of the sentence, blood suddenly sprouting underneath his cheeks and warming his whole face up.

"Agh, look at what you're making me say! Idiot!" The tables seemed to have turned around when Baekhyun started hitting Jongdae instead, filling the neighborhood with pain-filled laughs and mischievous teasing.

***

Baekhyun had a continuous tickling sensation in his stomach as he and Jongdae headed to school. Ever since last night, he had been feeling as if a major part of his worries had with one big blow been carried away from his shoulders. Nonetheless, there was still one more thing left lingering on his heart, on his mind. You. He could just pray he wasn't too late, that you hadn't found him a complete ass for distancing himself. He sighed loudly, knowing nothing but to rely on your understanding self.

The two of you getting closer, him kissing you- and the bullies, Jongdae lashing out on him- everything had taken place in the span of a week and as short as it was, it had felt so much longer. He couldn't help but try to and recall the sound of your voice in his head, but somewhat failed, making him want to see you as soon as possible. Just so that he could be swallowed in your warm, colorful presence that would at any time make him feel as if he was living in a watercolored painting bathing in the sun. He had styled his black locks with a small amount of gel, parting his bangs in the middle, trying out something slightly new. It fit him, though, the bruises and cuts on his face were not making him any more flattering. The cuts an angry red that stung, his bruises still pulsating with ache, the edges were slowly fading into yellow, but it was still too purple to deem healed.

As the two boys entered the classroom in time, they were welcomed by the beautiful sight of you- but also Jongin, leaning with his hands on the front of your desk and speaking animatedly with you. Jongdae pushed his elbow harshly into Baekhyun's rib, making him let out a cry of pain as he still had aches that had yet to heal even on his stomach. The best friend looked at him with an I-told-you-so, look on his face, "Look! And there burned your only chance." Jongade exaggerated in a hiss under his breath, only annoying Baekhyun even more. He swallowed the urge to punch him back down and only pushed his glasses up his nose before more or less limping to his desk that luckily, had not been occupied by Jongin this time, although he was there.

Baekhyun managed to catch both yours and Jongin's attention as he plopped down quiet heavily onto his seat next to you, seething because of the too rough movement. He wasn't too used in moving so carefully and because of that he often forgot about his aches until he would sit down or move too harshly. A questioning look swam its way on Jongin's features as he eyed the no longer pink-haired boy, though didn't comment on it. Moreover, a cringe twisted his lips at the sight of his injured face. "You sure look rough," he had stated the obvious with something Baekhyun and Jongdae could've sworn was a concern. "Are you sure you shouldn't be at home?" The honey-skin pressed uncertainly, looking genuinely put off by the fact that Baekhyun had shown up in such a state when he rightfully so, should've been nowhere but at home and resting. Baekhyun was about to answer, thoughts swirling messily in his head, filtering before he'd mutter something like "I can't let you court her instead of me," which would've thrown him into trouble. Before he could utter anything, you had already swung your chair closer to his, your orbs pooled with worry came into his view and a tickling sensation swam in his stomach, making him want to giggle but he held in the urge and bit his lip.

"Are you okay?!" The sound of your voice hit him like a truck, and as if there were two pumping hearts underneath his ribs, he felt his chest swelling uncontrollably. How much he had missed your face that he found so beautiful, your long hair falling ever so gracefully down your shoulders, your sweet voice. He hadn't realized until now, how alive your presence always managed to make him feel, whether, in the happiness, sadness, or jealousy, he would always have his feelings living like eager fishes swimming inside of him. Baekhyun found himself slightly speechless as he almost fell into a daze when meeting your starry eyes, eventually eyeing Jongin from the corner of his eyes. He couldn't let this opportunity slip. It was now or never.

Jongdae who was watching from his seat a few rows behind almost cackled out loudly at his friend who had very convincedly started wincing and hissing in pain. "Ouch- I, no, I don't I think I feel that well." Teeth stuck into his delicate lip, he for once accepted the flustered blush that ever so subtly spread on his face, his eyes softening in the ones of a puppy as he looked at you. Baekhyun's heart threatened to burst into one big firework when your gentle fingertips caressed the side of his face, eyebrows bent in concern, "Haven't you taken care of these scars?" you asked when noticing the angry color forming on his skin, and when he sheepily shook his heard, you got your confirmation. "They're going to get infected, Baekhyun! You should take care of yourself."

The disbelief in your voice prompted him to feel slightly guilty and embarrassed for not being careful enough with himself, but at the end of the day, he knew that he hadn't been in any state to care about himself at all. "Sorry?" he tempted sheepily, and you could only shake your head with a sad smile. "What for? Baekhyun it's yourself you should feel sorry toward." you said earnestly, "Come on, let's go to the infirmary and get these cleaned," your hand reached out for his and he had to press his hand against his mouth so that he wouldn't let out the victorious smile threatening to burst on his lips.

While being gently dragged by you, he cast a look over his shoulder, almost sneering at the forgotten Jongin and then raising a cocky eyebrow at Jongdae as he had proved him wrong, big time. Entering the infirmary, Baekhyun was hit by the minty smell mixed with the one of plastic gloves, making him feel as if he was at an actual hospital. He was surprised when you hadn't bothered to call any nurse, but every so pleasantly, for that matter. There was no way he could complain when getting some precious alone time with you, yeah, he would never complain ever again.

He sat comfortably on the patient's bed while you had disappeared behind the curtains to get a first aid kit. Baekhyun had no idea if his frantic heart was manifesting through his clenched features. He might've looked bold when throwing such a look of revenge to his friend, but on the inside, he still remained the incredibly nervous pink-haired boy he'd been once. But that anxious feeling, to his confusion, disappeared completely when you showed up just a minute later, with an aid kit clutched in your hands.

You placed the kit next to him and started rummaging for some disinfectant and cotton pads. That concentrated frown between your eyebrows and the long, silky hair framing your face that would always tempt him to touch it, he loved it so much, but there was nothing more he adored more than your kind and caring self. Baekhyun couldn't help himself when his gaze on you could be called nothing else but staring at this point. But your scent was enveloping in such a warm embrace, hypnotizing him as he followed your every movement with hooded eyes and lips that were constantly being tugged by his eager teeth. Not even the swelling heart in his chest could describe the overwhelming feelings he had for you. He knew that he didn't know you too well, that he had yet to discover your flaws and much more, but he so wanted to, he was ready to love your every imperfection and perfection. He had never felt like this before. He felt such disbelief, as you had tenderly removed the glasses from his face, and taken in his face with such starry eyes, he had felt like a glimmering emerald. If you rejected him, what was he ever going to do with all of these feelings that day by day brimmed over the edge of a filled glass?

The cotton pad was drenched with disinfectant as you brought it closer to Baekhyun's injured face. The proximity was giving your heart a reason to speed up greatly, a speed you weren't sure you could handle, but for all you knew, the warm puffs of breath hitting your cheeks as you leaned ever so much closer, felt addictive, and you couldn't help but long more of his strawberry scent- suddenly recalling how his lips had without any warning landed on yours that day when the rain had suddenly started pouring. Lost in your train of thoughts, you accidentally pressed the cotton pad too harshly on his scar, earning a stinging hiss from the boy.

"Oh my God, I am so sorry!" You panicked, imagining the hurtful sting he must've felt, "I was spacing out, I am so sorry!" Baekhyun's lips broke out into a childish smile as he caught your flailing wrists, shaking his head dismissively. "Hey, it's okay." He had murmured softly, but the smile in his low voice still so very clear. With a palpitating heart, you forced yourself to concentrate and finish the work you had started. It was a lie if you said that you didn't feel the slightest nervous. Baekhyun was following your every movement with honey dripping from his orbs and although a part of you loved having all of his attention for yourself, you did feel the tiniest bit small underneath his scrutinizing gaze.

One last band-aid was applied to the bridge of his nose, and you couldn't help the bubbling chuckles at the result, he looked way too adorable for his own good with those band-aids plastered all over his face, and not to mention the displeased pout on his lips that you could tell was nothing but playful. Baekhyun knew what you were thinking. That he looked cute. His main reason for changing his hair color was so that he could stop being seen as any less than handsome and good looking- and yet somehow, he always managed to look like a baby. If it had been Jongdae in front of him right now, he would've probably wasted no time in throwing a couple of punches his way, or cussing him out. But since it was you, laughing and having your glittering crescents dancing all over his being and the sole fact that he was the cause of your smile, even if for the silliest of reasons, he felt like he had caught a shooting star in a bottle.

Your laughter had with Baekhyun's sudden movements died down in the back of your throat, a lingering silence ringing in your ears. Baekhyun had absolutely no idea what had gotten into him when the swelling his chest had completely clouded his head. His thoughts suddenly nothing but vacant words resounding in the back of his head as his body acted on its own,  prompting him to stretch out his limbs and lock his ankles around the lower part of your body, bringing you closer to him with the pressure of his legs. You almost squeaked when suddenly being pushed to stand in between his legs, but was too speechless because of the proximity to even let out a word. In Baekhyun's eyes was a feeling you had never seen him sporting before, something that darkened his chocolate oceans, something that made you want to dive within them and never find your way back. An alluring, magnetic pull that turned the air around you extremely thick, suddenly, the scent of Baekhyun's aftershave so much more noticeable, alluring, inviting you to lean closer to its derival.

Shivers thundered down your spine when his scorching hot fingertips caressed your palm, outlined it as if the petals of a flower, but eventually disappeared as quickly as you had felt it. Only to have his gentle hands ghost their way around your waist, hanging there loosely, almost uncertainly. By now, your breaths were one single source of air as they mingled together. You had no idea what to do, you had never been so close to anyone before, never had your heartbeat melt against another rhythmic one. You loved it but was so insecure, so scared of doing something wrong. Your slightly trembling hands curled against the soft fabric of his shirt when Baekhyun had once again reduced a great ounce of distance, leaving his lips to frustratingly brush against your cheek- only a few centimeters away from your lips that had on their own fallen apart, trembling and swelling eagerly. Although you were only slowly understanding the situation, your body had it all figured out, reacting to Baekhyun's slow advances with an enthusiasm that you had never known resided within you. It only took Baekhyun's feathery peck to your cheek to prompt your eyes to hood as an effect of your body giving in to the magic spell that was his presence.

It was as if your brain had dissolved into a puddle inside of your head, with his lips finally in front of yours and their warm breaths melting your own, you felt as if you were going to die if he didn't press them to yours at the instant. But then, amid your desire, he like the first time, closed the distance without any warning, stealing your breath away with the foreign feeling of his moist lips molding beautifully against yours. His lips were as soft and pillowy as they looked like when they gently, and ever so slowly started moving against yours, your eyes closing completely when you let yourself finally away to the moment. You had no idea of what you were doing, but you figured it was fine as your mouth on its own, steadied to Baekhyun's rhythm. The boy tilted his head to deepen the kiss, eventually humming sweetly at the sensation of you kissing him back. His hands that had ever so discretely fallen to rest loosely on your hips tightened their hold as the both of you fell out of breath but found it hard to part.

The noise of your lips detaching only increased the number of butterflies fluttering their wings in your belly. Baekhyun's forehead landed gently against yours, and you found yourself able to count his eyelashes from the closeness, not less feel the heat radiating from his flushed cheeks transferring to your own. You could see him frantically looking from left to right from underneath his lashes, probably having an internal war with himself...Perhaps regretting what he had just done? You could just hope that wasn't it. His name had already been carved into your heart.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Baekhyun, once again, suddenly pulling you closer, this time circling his arms around your frame so that you could be engulfed by his embrace and he could bury his face in the crook of your neck. Having the tip of his nose tease the sensitive skin of your neck. At this point, you couldn't bring yourself to wonder what was about to happen, resulting in you leaning into the comfort of his embrace, only to  later on have a sweet, serene smile blossom on your lips at Baekhyun's shy, yet incredibly heartfluttering question. His voice was muffled as he pouted into the fabric of your shirt and spoke, only melting your heart further.

"Can I be your boyfriend...?"

"Can I?"

"I'd love it if you were."

Now he could truly say he had caught a shooting star into a bottle, he wanted to muster it to you. How precious you were, and how he wasn't going to let you go now that he had you. He couldn't.

You, a flower beautifully made by the Gods, finally, finally you knew.

Finally you knew that he loved you.

Him & Her.

FIN.

🌸🌸🌸

*peeks behind corner* Uhhmm hi! Guess who's ashy ass decided to show up here again, after two freaking years. Yes, that's me, and I'm sure many of you are ready to come after me with pinchforks for making wait for so ridiculously long. I am so sorry. I lost motivation and had no idea how to end it. But just recently I found the strength to finish it, and I truly hope that the wait was worth it, that it was a proper way to end this story. As I wrote and edited this story, I can't help but notice how different my writing has gotten, and it's a really intriguing thing to see! I almost don't recognize myself though ><

Anyway, I just want to say that I'm eternally thankful to whoever read this and showed their support. I say it all the time but I really mean it when I say it means the world to me whenever you comment, put like or whatever you might do. I'm thankful. This story is nothing without you. Lots and lots of life to all of you, greetings, P💕💌💖

Sorry for errors!

Other works:

Rooftop - Baekhyun x Reader (oc) -island and bakery au, summer-themed

La Vie En Rose - Baekhyun x Reader - one shot, song inspired, marriage au, pregnancy au

Havana - Baekhyun x Reader - one shot, dirty dancing au, rich girl au

[btswrckd]

Hunting a Hybrid V

Black Panther!Hybrid Jungkook x Fem!Reader

Summary: Four years after it’s made illegal to acquire hybrids as pets, you’re approached by the daughter of your former employer to hunt down one that had been gifted to her

Warnings: slight violence, mentions of past abuse, poorly written smut

A/N: A lot is happening this chapter and it’s not as clean as I hoped it would be but tomorrow is Christmas and I really wanted it to be up. As you guys know, I’ve been busy with a new job and didn’t have much time to work on this fic but I’m hoping you guys will enjoy anyways. Also if you’re like me and love to listen to music while reading, I was listening to Can You Hold Me by NF and Dynasty by Miia. Much love!

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The red and blue lights flickered against the beige house, illuminating it and many others around. People, neighbors, stood along the street in a crowd and a few women breaking off into their own little cliques to whisper amongst themselves. Hands covered their mouths as if they weren’t so obviously speaking of the swarm of cop cars parked outside your home, their husbands off to the side and speculating just what the hell was going on. 

Sangchul stood gruff with crossed arms, nodding his head at the information being passed on to him by one of the few officers on the scene. His shoulders stiff at the sound of your voice, scream piercing through the crowd and footsteps heavy as they pounded against the asphalt behind him.

You were late coming home, 15 year old you grumbling and kicking rocks along the path you walked, Yoongi at your side and teasing you for losing track of time. Pouting as he ruffled your hair and said to be careful gathering your things, you shook your head and gave his shoulder a light punch. You noticed him wince slightly and dropped your head in apology; ever since training with your grandfather, both you and Yoongi noticed how strong you came to be, but this is what Sangchul had taught you to be and Yoongi never questioned it aloud. Not that you’d tell him the truth anyways.

“What the hell is that?” You asked, noticing the red and blue flashing lights just up the street. You noticed the mob of people as they turned to look at you with sympathy, anxiety creeping your spine and your stomach dropping to your feet. Bile rose in your throat with each step you took, the chatter and people fading into the back as you neared the house surrounded by police officers and an ambulance. The door looked as if it had been kicked in, the wood splintered from the force, and covered in yellow ‘caution’ tape. Your breath shuttered as you stepped off the curb, taking note of your mother’s car in the driveway. “Mom?”

Yoongi tried to snag your elbow before you went any further but his own father had clapped a hand to his shoulder, shaking his head in response to Yoongi’s glare. His head whipped back around at your shrill scream, the word ‘Mom’ being screeched so loud it made a few cops jump and try their best to stop you from going into the house. 

Stumbling as your knees gave in, you allowed yourself to be caught by the officer standing with your grandfather, hot tears streaming down your face when the paramedics stepped out the front door with a gurney and what you prayed was not your mother in a body bag. “Mom!” 

The officer winced when you clawed at his arms to break free from his embrace, nails digging into his skin but his hold was strong, tears springing to his eyes at hearing you cry out to your mother like a lost child. His bottom lip trembled at your tear stained face, throat raw from screaming and body going limp with exhaustion, he whispered his apologies into your hair. He knew better than to become emotionally involved but you were still just a kid whose own grandfather wasn’t doing much to comfort you. As he turned to shoot a glare in Sangchul’s direction, his grip faltered and you broke away from him to sprint into the house.

Other officers tried to restrain you, but you were quicker than them, more agile in your movements to dodge their hands. Finally reaching the front door, the bile in your throat came out full force at the sight of blood, too much blood to be just your mother’s. The red splattered across the walls painted a very gory image of what could have happened, your father’s body finally catching your eye and giving you a glimpse of what looked like claw marks.

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You sat up quickly, short of breath and feeling as though someone had been trying to smother you in your sleep. Sweat clung to your still naked body and soaked your sheets making you grimace and throw them from your body. Leaning over the bed, you slipped on a bra, panties, and a tank top. The rustling of sheets alerted you to Jungkook also coming to and jumping up in panic when he couldn’t feel your body beside his. 

“Hey,” His voice was soft and comforting as he felt your nerves on overdrive, your anxiety seeping out in waves. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” You lied, trying your best to calm the rapid beating of your heart and rising from the bed to cross the room, “Just a nightmare.”

“Another one?” Jungkook was understandably concerned, he himself waking with night terrors, but none leaving him as shaken. Even before his parents’ deaths, he had always been treated badly because he was a hybrid so he learned to adapt. But something about your nightmares made him uneasy, the need to protect you from them greater than anything he’s ever felt. 

“Kook,” Your voice broke through his thoughts as you faced the dresser and braced your palms against it, “Do you want to know why I became a hunter?”

He held his breath and stared at your back, watching your shoulders tense and arms tremble, signs that you were crying. It left an ache in his chest.

You took in a huge breath before turning to face him, leaning back against the dresser, and closing your eyes to recall that very night so long ago. “The night my parents died, I had been out with Yoongi because I was going to stay the weekend at his house. My dad had business out of town and was forcing my mom to go with him. When I got home that night, there was all kinds of cop cars up and down our block, and our neighbors were standing around outside. They crowded our house...” You couldn’t finish your sentence, the words dying on your tongue and the memories so vivid it was as if it all happened yesterday.

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“Y/N,” Sangchul’s voice caused a shiver to run down your spine, blood running ice cold at the lack of emotion in his tone. Of course he didn’t care that his only son and daughter-in-law were just murdered. Why would he?

You were on your knees, hands braced on the floor as you heaved, the acidic taste of vomit still present in your mouth. Eyes shut tight and the pain squeezing your chest, you shook your head as if it were going to erase the images.

“Y/N,” Sangchul’s tone was harsh as he tried to get your attention by gripping your elbow tight and tugging you to your feet, turning your body to face him. “Calm yourself.”

You looked at him as if he’d grown two heads, disgusted and confused by what he meant.  Hot tears streamed down your face while you scoffed, “Calm myself? Do you see what’s happened here? Are you blind?!”

“Do not,” He hissed and brought your face close to his, “speak to me that way. Of course I see what’s happened. Your parents were attacked by a beast.”

“A beast that looks both man and animal,” Sangchul clarified when your brows drew together, not yet processing what he was saying, “A hybrid, Y/N. One of those things did this to my son and your mother.”

“No,” You shook your head, refusing to believe any of it, “No, one would never. Hybrids...they’re not like this.”

“Yes they are. They’re savages whose violent nature cannot be tamed. Hybrid’s are unnatural and have no place in this world. And one did this to your home.”

“No!” You pushed at your grandfather’s chest hard, bringing your hands to your hair to tug at the strands as if trying to pull them all out. “No, it’s not true!”

Sangchul quickly engulfed you in a hug if only to keep you from causing more of a scene, “Of course it is, Y/N. They did this and we will find it. You will make it pay for what it has done.”

“The p-police will handle it, grandpa,” You pulled back, bringing your hand to your face to wipe away the tears, “can we please just go?”

“The police?” Sangchul growled and placed his large hands on your shoulders, comforting to an outsider but a warning to you, “You think any of these imbeciles will be able to find that hybrid? You think they’ll hold it accountable for what its done? No, Y/N, only you can make it pay. You deserve that much.”

“I don’t want to make him pay.”

“An eye for an eye, Y/N,” He insisted, grip tightening on your shoulders, “blood for blood, you know this. That’s the cardinal rule for hunters and you must uphold that.”

“I don’t want this.” You shook your head with fresh tears leaking down your cheeks and buried your face in your hands. “Please don’t make me.”

Sangchul was becoming frustrated, pulling you close once more to whisper, “You know what happened to your grandmother. You know a hybrid murdered her before you were even born and I never got the chance to see it hurt the same way I did. But you can. You can make it hurt just as bad and you’ll feel so much better once you do. I promise you, Y/N, that when it’s done and over with, you won’t even remember that hybrid. You’ll sleep peacefully knowing you avenged your parents.”

You never wanted to be that way, never wanted to hate the hybrid race because they were different and your grandfather despised them. You always believed hybrids were beautiful and misjudged simply because their appearance wasn’t of the normal standard. A chance encounter when you were a mere 5 years old convincing you that they meant no harm to anyone. You’d become lost in a crowd during your family’s weekly grocery shopping, becoming frightened of all the many strangers passing by without offering help to a little girl. Scurrying up and down aisles, panic began to settle in until you bumped into a friendly stranger with an even friendlier hybrid. The two helped you find your mother and the hybrid had playfully tapped your nose, making you giggle through the hiccups that developed while crying.

There was a raging hate your grandfather always carried for them and you never thought you could feel the same way...until now. You spared a glance at your father’s body being zipped into a black body bag just like your mother’s and decided...

Hybrids were not beautiful and they were not your friends, they were animals. Beasts that fooled you into believing they could be anything but what they were; feral and dangerous. You were wrong about them and you weren’t going to allow yourself to be blinded any longer.

Sangchul watched what little sliver of light you held die out. A smirk spread across his lips at the darkness swirling in your eyes, your jaw setting and nostrils flaring in rage. It was done; you were finally broken enough to train properly, to track and kill without remorse. You were finally ready to become the hunter Sangchul could never teach Donghoon to be.

“Everything okay over here?” The previous officer asked as Sangchul led you to his waiting car. His hands rested on his belt, studying you for any more signs of distress.

“Everything is fine, officer,” Your grandfather leaned in to read his name badge, “Kim. Ah, a fine name. Now if you’ll excuse me, I really must take my granddaughter somewhere safe.”

“Of course,” Officer Kim nodded but never took his eyes off you, wanting so badly to prevent that from happening. He waited until your eyes finally met his to say, “I’m very sorry, sweetheart. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call and ask for me, okay?”

He had known your mother for quite some time now after he answered a domestic abuse call some months back. Officer Kim approached her discreetly and asked for the real story, and once the truth was out, he began to help build a case against your father. He was the only one convinced that a hybrid couldn’t do any of this but the evidence suggested otherwise. Something about all of it, including Sangchul’s odd behavior didn’t sit well with him.

“And we thank you for the offer,” Sangchul answered before you could, “But that’s what I’m here for. Come now,” He gathered your hand in his and led you away from what was no longer your home. Glancing back at you, he stopped a long time acquaintance on the force that was on the scene and leaned in close to whisper something into the detective’s ear, slipping a rather hefty roll of money into the man’s hand. 

“Where are we going?” You asked when he joined you in the car, eyes peering suspiciously at that same detective stopping officer Kim from getting any closer to the car. “Why did you just slip that detective money?”

“We have to leave town,” Sangchul sighed heavily, “and we won’t be able to return for a very long time. That detective is doing me a favor by making sure we’ll never be found.”

“Why aren’t we staying here to catch the hybrid?”

“You’re not ready,” He explained through grit teeth, frustrated at your series of questions. “Training every once in a while after school isn’t enough anymore. You need more time.”

“And exactly how do you suppose we find it if we don’t stick around?”

“You will,” Your grandfather promised eerily, “once you’re training is over, you’ll find it.”

Twisting around in your seat, you searched for Yoongi, finding him trying to chase the car down with no luck, his legs nearly giving out as your grandfather pressed harder on the gas pedal. You could see him cup his hands around his mouth to shout something, but you never heard what it was, instead lifting your hand to wave goodbye.

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

“My parents,” You continued, “weren’t a happy couple. My dad would beat my mother every night. Just because he could. He liked making my mother feel inferior, making her feel as if she was nothing. Donghoon was a man that strived on the fear of others, especially her.”

Jungkook waited with bated breath, the realization that you were about to bare all for him, your past, finally sinking in.

Pushing away from the dresser, you faced him and caught the pity in his eyes and you almost laughed; Jungkook had very obviously endured more than you ever have and yet he still felt sorry for you. You never shared your story with anyone, not even Taehyung, and a small part of you was ashamed that you’d kept it from him. You trusted Taehyung with your life but why you chose to keep your past a secret was still a mystery to you. You supposed it was more that you never had anyone to share it with until Tae, but could never bring yourself to do so after seeing the fear in his eyes from one of the many jobs you pulled.

“He abused alcohol, my mother, drugs,” You tugged on the end of your hair, a nervous habit Jungkook picked up on, and let out a mocking laugh, “Never me though. No, I...I was too precious to hurt. But my mom, the woman who birthed me, she was okay to toss around like a ragdoll.”

“Did you ever,” Jungkook wasn’t sure what he was trying to ask, just that he needed to speak, “tell anyone?”

“No,” Finally settling on the bed, your hair fell in your face to hide the feeling of shame at keeping it a secret. “You see, just because my dad never hit me didn’t mean I wasn’t scared of him. He had so much power because was so successful in everything he did. Accusing him of something like that...it would have never worked in mine and my mother’s favors. No one would have believed us but I guess that never stopped my mom from trying.”

“Somewhere along the many, many years of abuse, she finally had enough courage to tell someone and started gathering evidence against him. I never found out who helped her, but my dad caught wind of it because my grandfather had ears everywhere. A detective found the file on my father and told him all about it. That night Donghoon went home...he killed my mom. I guess after his rage induced outburst he saw what he had done and for a split second, felt remorse. But then, panic set in and he didn’t want to have to face what he’d done or the kind of questions to come if he were to call the police. So, like a coward, he called my grandfather to cover it up and make plans for us to disappear.”

Jungkook felt sick to his stomach, he’d seen plenty of humans do some disgraceful and vile things but none quite like your father.

“My grandfather said he wouldn’t clean up my father’s mess for him.” Your eyes glossed over with tears, gaze still on the floor and it was like you were in a trance as you told Jungkook everything. “He took that same hammer Donghoon used on my mom and killed his own son. If you thought my dad was awful, Sangchul...he was a different kind of evil. He took a knife and slashed up their bodies to look like claw marks. Any untrained eye would believe the story he told about a hybrid breaking into the house. That night, he was able to convince me that hybrid’s were just things. That they deserved to be hunted just like any other animal.”

“If you knew,” Jungkook tried to process what he’d just heard, tried to understand why you never said anything and feeling a lump forming in the back of his throat, “why didn’t you tell the cops?”

“Sangchul was a master manipulator,” You explained, finally turning to him and bringing your legs onto the bed to rest your chin on your knees, “he always knew just what to say when he felt like I was slipping through his fingers. He was able to cloud my mind enough to hide what he was; a monster. It wasn’t until just after my 18th birthday that he told me what happened that night and what he’d done. He was really delusional enough to think that I would actually thank him. That I was enough like him to believe what he did was a favor. He was right to think I’m just as cruel because really, in a lot of ways I was. Am.”

Jungkook’s ears twitched when your voice dropped to a whisper, “I’ve only ever been taught to be one thing, Jungkook. And that’s never changed. The person I became is the person I will always be.”

His whole body stiffened, tail whipping back and forth and anger building in him. Anger at your father, your grandfather, and even you. Hunters tore his family apart and he thought it would be easy to forgive them, but your confession at being unable to change your habits made him sick. He moved away from you, hair covering his eyes and the way they glowed bright green.

“You have to understand something, Kook,” Your breath hitched at the distance he quickly created, watching his chest rise and fall in uneven breaths. “I kept hunting because Sangchul taught me that I could never trust anyone. Even after I learned the truth, that stayed with me. Those hybrids that I tracked down for people like Hyungsik, I never forgot them, not for one day. But I did what I thought I had to and I regret it all of the time. I know that trying to save them now won’t make up for what I’ve done.”

“Then why even bother trying?” He sneered, canines elongating and becoming visible at his irritation as he began to dress himself. “Most of them are dead already. You won’t be saving many from the prison you put them in. I understand that hunting them was a part of your past, but it doesn’t have to be now. You’re choosing to let it be because you’re scared that this might actually work and you don’t know how to handle being happy.”

Your gaze stayed on the bed sheets as Jungkook strode to the door and stormed out, choosing to stay put in the room and keep your distance. You understood why he was angry and took his harsh words without interruption because he was right. If everything worked and you were actually able to free the hybrids in Nam’s home, you’d no longer have a purpose. Hunting was your everything and without it, you didn’t know what to do with yourself, it’s why you agreed to hunt down Jungkook in the first place.

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

“Oh, you’re up.” Taehyung blinked at Jungkook stewing on the couch, tail bristled and ears flat against his head. He peered down the hall to your closed door as Seokjin came up behind him.

“Are you alright, Jungkook?” Seokjin questioned and shuffled to the panther carefully. “You seem agitated. What happened?”

“We got into an argument.” The younger boy explained simply and felt Taehyung’s defenses rise at the possibility of you being hurt again. “She’s okay. Physically, at least.”

“The fuck does that mean?” Taehyung took a step towards Jungkook but Seokjin put his hand up to stop him. 

“Not now, Taehyung,” He kept his voice level so as not to rile either boy up any further, “go check on Y/N and Jungkook and I will head back upstairs for a few days.”

Taehyung didn’t hesitate to turn on his heel and stalk down to your room, not even bothering to knock and instead let himself in.

“She said,” Jungkook began to tell Seokjin, “that she’ll always be a hunter. And that it won’t ever change.”

“Do you expect it to?” His senior asked seriously as he sat on the coffee table across from him, “Y/N has hunted for a very long time. Just as you’re a predator, in her own way, so is she. That nature isn’t easy to forget.”

“She’s not even going to try!” Jungkook huffed and ran his fingers through his long hair and hanging his head in defeat. 

“She’s willing to risk her life to free the hybrids in Hyungsik’s home, isn’t she?”

“But will it really be over?” He whispered more to himself than Seokjin, “Will she really just stop hunting because Hyungsik is in jail? If her nature can’t be forgotten...then was I wrong to trust her?”

“Jungkook,” Seokjin frowned and reached to pat the younger on his shoulder, “trusting Y/N will have been the best decision you made in the end. At least for me, it will be. Don’t forget that I too chose to work for Mr. Nam because I was desperate. You still trust me, don’t you?”

“I…” Jungkook struggled to find his answer; he did trust Seokjin, but his feelings for his senior weren’t exactly the same as his feelings for you. He even went so far as to claim you even after you expressly said he needed to be sure, and he was. Is. Isn’t he?

“Come on,” Seokjin rose to his feet and led him to the door, watching Jungkook’s ears twitch at your voice coming from the room and his lips curl into a growl. Opening the door, he made room for Jungkook to stompy by.

Jungkook’s fists curled into balls as they hung at his sides, Taehyung’s voice carrying down the hall explaining that the panther has chosen to stay in the apartment above and your response being ‘it’s what he wants’ causing a harsh pain in his chest. You really weren’t going to fight him on the need for space.

Seokjin pulled a note from his pocket to leave on the kitchen counter with the words ‘I called detective Kim and he said he’s free for most of the week’ scribbled on them before following Jungkook to the elevator that seemed to be taking forever. As he rode in awkward silence next to a pissed off hybrid, he could only hope Taehyung had better luck finding out what happened from you.

Once on the floor above, Jungkook swiftly stormed to one of the empty rooms and flopped down on the bed. Head buried in the pillows, he ignored Seokjin’s questioning knock and the concern in his senior’s voice. He could already feel the pull of his mark coming from Taehyung’s apartment, the desperate need to be at your side burning a hole in his chest. But he wouldn’t go, not yet, not until he had enough time to sort out his thoughts.

Hybrid hunters were notorious for being ignorant about the hybrid race, believing humans were superior in every way and showing it in the way they chose to treat hybrids. Even now after the laws were passed, people still looked down on him and his race, disgust written all over their face. Jungkook was sensible enough to acknowledge that not all humans hated hybrids, some viewing them not as pets but as friends, sometimes even more. Seokjin was one of those people. Hoseok and Taehyung were those people. You, on the other hand, were in between; not hating hybrids but not seeing them as more than animals either, despite your many claims of regret.

Jungkook hissed as his chest burned; you were in pain, upset and possibly crying. There was nothing that he wanted more than to comfort you, hold you in his arms and soothe the pain inside. Tears sprung to his eyes as he resisted the urge to do so, claws sinking into the mattress beneath him as he gasped out his own agony.

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

“How is she?” Yoongi questioned from his side of the phone, the chattering of his bar patrons nearly drowning out Taehyung’s response.

“She says she’s okay,” Taehyung sighed and picked up the paper Seokjin had left, “But I’m pretty sure she kicked me out of the room so she could just cry to herself. You know better than I do that she’s not really going to tell me what the hell happened.”

On his end, Yoongi scrubbed his hand down his face, pushing Hoseok away when his friend all but squished his own cheek to Yoongi’s in hopes of hearing the conversation. 

“And Jungkook?” Hoseok blurted out and Yoongi winced at the volume of his question.

“He went back to the apartment upstairs. Seokjin hyung promised to stay with him until this blows over, if it blows over at all.” Taehyung stalked around the kitchen, opening his cabinets to pull out two glasses and set them on the table. He pulled a pitcher of water from the fridge as he heard the door to your room open and close. Trying to hide the frown on his face, Taehyung noted the red that brimmed your eyes, “The detective he talked to said he was going to be free this week so we’ll meet up with him.”

“We won’t be doing anything,” You slumped in the chair at the kitchen table and fiddled with the glass, “I’m going to see if he’s actually trustworthy. You’re going to stay here and out of my way.”

“Why?” Taehyung demanded and set his phone on the table after placing the call on speaker, not expecting Yoongi to chime in and agree with him that you needed backup. 

“Because I said so.”

“We’re not teenagers anymore, I’m not as afraid of you as I used to be.”

You rose a brow over the glass brought to your lips, “Tae, if this goes south, I don’t want you or anyone else near it. That’s the deal.”

“No way.” Taehyung shook his head and crossed his arms sternly, “I’m not letting you meet with him alone. It’s dangerous.”

“Yeah, I think out of the two of us,” You waved a hand between you and your best friend, “I’m better at handling dangerous situations. Look, Tae, I’m tired of arguing with everyone, just do what I say and stay here.”

The table shook with the amount of force you put into slamming your hand on the table as you stood up, grumbling under your breath the entire way back to your room.

Taehyung jumped at the sound of Yoongi screaming ‘yah!’ from his side of the phone, trying to get your attention but failing. He sighed heavily and propped his elbows on the table, folding his hands in front of him. “This whole thing with Jungkook is concerning.”

“I’ve been saying that since the beginning.”

“Anymore fighting with him is just going to cause Y/N to distance herself from us more.” Taehyung ignored Yoongi, thinking out loud and wanting to bang his head against the table. He really thought he’d seen a change in you after meeting the panther but now he’s not sure what he should do. Removing Jungkook from the situation wouldn’t help, not with his mark very clearly embedded in your clavicle. Any further distance would only make it harder now that Jungkook had claimed you.

He tugged at his hair, the strands sticking out in every direction before he dropped his forehead to the wood of his kitchen table, groaning in frustration.

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

“The hell do you mean there was no evidence left behind?” Kim Namjoon scolded the forensics team. “You’re telling me this whole scene was wiped clean of everything?”

He stood in the middle of an abandoned house, a lioness hybrid’s dead body separating him from the team. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took another look around what used to be a family room but was now covered in dust and mold. “Find me something.”

“What’s the big deal?” One of the crew scoffed, “it’s just an animal, detective, it’s not like it was anything important.”

“Watch yourself.” Namjoon growled, advancing on the much shorter man and towering over him, “Just because they’ve got animal DNA doesn’t mean they’re to be written off, understood? She may not have been important to you, but somebody out there is missing her, so if you’re done being a fucking prick, get back to work.”

The man shied away from Namjoon’s glare to comb the room once more despite having found absolutely nothing the first time around. Namjoon glanced down at his watch and cursed; they’d already been there too long for his liking, especially given that the whole place had been wiped clean to keep anyone from finding out what happened. He also had another case he was working on, one no one else knew about so he couldn’t exactly just leave the scene without a proper investigation.

“Yo,” His partner and long time friend Jackson clapped his shoulder, “look man, why don’t you head back to the precinct before one of these guys loses his teeth? I’ll handle things here.”

Namjoon smiled at Jackson’s joke and shook his head, “You sure? They don’t seem to be trying very hard and I just want to make sure---.”

“I’ll make sure everything gets done, bro.” Jackson assured him, “I promise we’ll go over this place all day if we have to. Just get out of here before Jay pisses his pants, okay? Dude’s scared of you, so give him a little peace and quiet and he might actually find something.”

“Fine,” Namjoon conceded and let Jackson steer him towards his car where he hopped in and watched his friend march back to the house and basically cling to Jay in order to make sure they were being thorough. He let out a small chuckle at his friend’s silliness and pulled away from the street they’d blocked off. 

It was the first body he’d seen in weeks and couldn’t help but wonder if this was a stashed hybrid that the owner could no longer risk being found. She had no form of identification on her and she didn’t come up in missing persons, so he could only assume that she wasn’t a registered citizen, which meant she was being kept away from the public. There was bruising around her ribcage and signs of sexual abuse and he shuddered at the thought of what this poor girl went through.

The drive back to the precinct was quiet except for the occasional chime of the dispatcher coming in through his scanner. Namjoon rubbed at his tired eyes, squeezing them shut as he sat at a red light and felt the obvious signs of a migraine beginning to form at his temples. He needed sleep but the file he’d been gifted from his father lingered in his mind, opting instead to spend his nights under the dim glow of his bedside lamp reading over the death of Y/L/N Iseul. A 40 year old woman whose body was found along with her husband’s in their home, allegedly attacked by a hybrid but Namjoon’s father never believed it. 

The case haunted his father and Namjoon remembered the many nights his parents would argue over the obsession his father carried over it. When he was a child, Namjoon didn’t understand the big deal about the case when it had already been closed. As a teenager, he remembered berating his father for being forced to retire much too soon because he couldn’t let it go. Now as a detective himself, the case was indeed strange to Namjoon, especially after it was coupled with another file on the woman’s husband accusing him of long term domestic abuse. The file had never been seen by anyone other than himself and his father and Namjoon found himself thinking about it non-stop.

The loud honk coming from the car behind him startled Namjoon as he jumped in his seat, pressing down on the gas pedal rather harshly after finally spotting the green light.

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

You watched as Namjoon sighed heavily and stalked through the precinct to his office, the distraction of one of the officers needing his signature giving you the opportunity to slip inside. 

Closing the door, he felt a slight change in the atmosphere that alerted him to your presence. Namjoon quickly drew his gun, twisting around to aim it smack dab in the middle of your forehead. His mouth parted in surprise at the stoic look on your face, his forefinger curling around the trigger as your hand came up to gently push the barrel of his gun away from you. 

“Not very friendly of you, is it, detective Kim?” You smirked as you leaned back against his desk, crossing both arms and legs.

“Not very friendly of you to sneak up on me, is it?” He was cautious, keeping his gun tight in his grip but aiming it at the ground rather than you. “How did you get in here?”

“The door,” You nodded towards the aged wooden door as if the answer was that simple when in reality his question was how the hell you ended up in his office. “Just walked right by desk after desk. Not a very observant precinct you guys got here.”

Namjoon set his jaw, bringing his gun up to you once more, clearly tired of your games and quite rattled by your calm exterior. Anyone able to slip past dozens of armed officers and trained detectives was not to be taken lightly. He watched your tongue poke out against your lips in an attempt to hide your smile; you were amused by something and it chilled him to the bone.

“Relax,” You chuckled lowly, uncrossing your arms to prop them back on his desk, “I don’t think your Captain would be too happy if you shot an unarmed civilian in your office, would he?”

“If you’re who I think you are,” He pulled his finger from the trigger, switching on the safety to his gun and pushing it back in his holster, “then you’re not unarmed.”

“You’re more than welcome to draw your gun again and find out,” Pushing yourself from his desk, you turned and plopped into the chair, listening and using the reflection from the silver picture frames on his desk to watch as he rounded it and sat opposite of you.

Namjoon ran his hands through his already messy hair, smoothing it back before opening the file that had been sitting there long before you arrived. “I didn’t think you’d come to me. From what Jin hyung told me, I didn’t think you’d ever set foot in a police precinct.”

“What Seokjin told you,” Your hardened voice caught him off guard, any hint of playfulness long gone, “Or what you hoped? You know how dangerous I am and it won’t be easy to pass off as simply defending yourself if anything goes wrong. After all, who’s going to believe someone like me could overpower you?”

His hands froze in the middle of turning over a page in the case he was looking over, his eyes locking with yours and he wondered just how long you’d been lying in wait for him to come back. He was surprised to find how cold your stare was compared to a minute ago, the stiffness in your posture suggesting you were done being friendly. “Did you look at this before I got here?”

“No.” You chuckled at his shoulders slumping in ease. “You’re not very prepared, Kim, that’s not a good look for you. Maybe you weren’t expecting me so soon, but you were expecting to run in to me at some point this week.” Resting your elbow on the arm rest of the chair, you propped your chin in the palm of your hand, pursing your lips. 

Namjoon let out a frustrated huff of breath, “The file I have here has a missing persons report from when you were 15, but there’s another that says your grandfather took guardianship of you after your parents’ death.”

“My grandfather had powerful friends everywhere,” You offered this bit of information to clear up his confusion, “He didn’t want us to be found so he called in some favors.”

“Until his body was found three years later in the forest of your hometown, allegedly mauled by a wild animal.” He had dug deeper than he first let on, his tone implying there was more to the story. 

“Why do you care?” You countered, lips curling into a devious smile once more, “My grandfather had quite the reputation, he was no stranger to criminal activity and if you’ve looked into me, then I’ve no doubt you’ve already gone through his records. You’ve already made up your mind about me, detective Kim, because you believe I’m just like him. And judging by the way you’re yet to look down at the paper in your hands, you’ve committed my file to memory, which means you’ve combed over it for hours. Am I wrong?”

Namjoon was at a loss for words, not expecting you to have been as hyper aware of him as he was of you. He swallowed audibly, truly shaken by your quick assessment, and dropped his gaze to the paper in his hands because he had studied it from the second he obtained it to now. He poured over your grandfather’s activities because his father had left the file to him, comparing them to Donghoon’s file until the night of his death. Not long after Sangchul’s death, his father began building a file on you, but there was no record of your existence after the age of 15 so not much was there. Both he and his father had gone restless nights staring at the investigation report of Sangchul’s death and the autopsy report that was suspicious but not enough to truly be bothered with since his supposed only next of kin was also dead.

“You’re right, you know?” You broke his train of thought, watching as he nearly jumped out of his skin after forgetting you were even there, his head whipping up to observe your face and brows furrowed. “I’m very much like Sangchul, and you’re right to assume how dangerous I am. My grandfather’s death was a godsend, detective. He was an evil and vicious man, and you should really be grateful that he doesn’t still walk this Earth.”

“You killed him,” He breathed out, hands trembling as he debated whether he should draw his weapon again or hear out the rest of what you had to say. 

“His son killed my mother so I simply returned the favor,” Rising slowly from your seat, you stuffed your hands into the pockets of the oversized jacket you borrowed from Taehyung. “You can arrest me if you’d like, though I don’t think you’d get very far without concrete proof. The cameras in your office have been disconnected so my confession wasn’t caught.”

“What?” Namjoon glanced around to check the security cameras hidden in the corners of the room to find they had in fact been tampered with. His eyes fell back on you, jaw clenching at having been bested in his own damn office. It suddenly dawned on him that he couldn’t feel the weight of his phone in his back pocket anymore, panic rising as you produced said phone from your jacket, dropping it to the ground and taking care to stomp on it violently. “Fuck.”

“Seokjin said he trusted you,” You kicked the phone across the floor, listening to it glide across the tile underneath his desk until he stopped it with his own foot, “and I’d like to think I can trust you too since we have a common enemy.”

He rose his brow, hands fisting on his desk and shaking with rage, but he stayed silent to allow you to go on. He was tempted to arrest you for destroying his property but he was actually impressed with how you managed to swipe the phone from his person without notice. He always had a sinking suspicion Sangchul had been murdered, not attacked. Sangchul’s case went cold and though it had truly looked as if he’d been attacked by an animal, Namjoon never bought it. Given your particular set of skills, it was quite clear what had really happened. Namjoon wasn’t all that surprised to hear you say your father killed your mother since the file his dad kept hidden documented what kind of person Donghoon really was.

“Nam Hyungsik,” You dropped the piece of paper Seokjin had given you on Namjoon’s desk, “has at least a dozen hybrids still in his home and I’d like to help you get them out.”

“What’s in it for you?”

“I want a specific hybrid to be protected until this is over,” You didn’t hesitate to mention Jungkook, your hand unconsciously coming up to rest on the twin holes in the juncture of your neck. His mark almost burning under your touch, the need to be close to Jungkook becoming desperate. “Dr. Kim and the people you’re about to meet...I don’t want them to be a part of this.”

“What does this hybrid have to do with Hyungsik?” Namjoon skimmed through the list of names on the paper you provided.

“Hyungsik’s daughter hired a few hunters to find him for a pretty hefty reward and I’ve been keeping him safe.”

“Where?”

“Out of sight.” 

“Right,” Namjoon sighed and figured he shouldn’t have even bothered to ask given the lengths you were willing to go through to keep this particular hybrid safe. “Are you one of the hunters that was hired?”

You scratched the back of your neck, palm resting against it afterward to massage the tension building there. “Will you help or not? You weren’t exactly my first choice when it came to handling this situation but Seokjin insisted.”

“Taking down someone like Hyungsik won’t be easy, it’ll take time.” He scrubbed his hand down his face, wincing at the bold lettering of deceased next to most of the names on the list. 

You nodded in understanding, taking his answer as proof that he’s willing to help. “Hyungsik is under the impression that I’m still looking for this hybrid so we have a window of maybe a week or two until he wants to meet up again if I haven’t delivered before then.”

“Good,” Namjoon nodded and pulled out one of his desk drawers to tuck the papers in it and slamming it shut. He watched your shoulders tense at his not so secret hiding place, “I’m not keeping these here, only while I’m in the office and then they go everywhere with me.”

Turning on your heel, you made for the door, hand on the knob and ready to turn but his voice stopped you, the low timbre making you hesitate as he asked-

“Why didn’t you tell anybody?” He wondered, “If you knew your father killed your mother, why didn’t you say anything?”

“Nobody would have believed me,” You didn’t face him, the memories of that day flooding back and you refused to show him how affected you still were. The image of 15 year old you, desperate and pleading flashed before you, your grandfather’s stone face as you became hysterical burned in your mind, “My father was a pinnacle of society, loving and doting out in public but behind closed doors…”

Namjoon’s features softened as he pitied you for having a rough childhood, something he didn’t quite understand because he’d come from a loving home with supportive parents. He knew that not everyone was as lucky, but he didn’t know how hard it could be for someone else either. 

“There was never any record of abuse against my father,” You weren’t sure why you continued, but chalked it up to needing to tell someone the truth after hiding it for so many years, “An accomplished man like him? No one would take my mother’s side if she tried to accuse Donghoon of abuse. He was a drunk, Detective Kim, and one night he simply snapped and couldn’t stand the sight of her, so he killed her. And like a coward, he chose to call his father for help only to have his own life taken by the very man who raised him.”

You still faced the door, body practically vibrating with rage at the memories, grip on the door handle so tight that your hand shook, “My grandfather manipulated every cop on the scene that night and convinced them that a hybrid attacked my parents. His hatred for their race was no secret, so he did everything he could to make sure I hated them too. It wasn’t until Sangchul thought I’d been brainwashed enough that he told me the truth about what happened that night.”

Namjoon caught your eye as you looked over your shoulder, door knob rattling in your grip, “An eye for an eye, Kim. Maybe not for people like you but for monsters like me, that’s how a score is settled.”

His mouth went dry and his stare bore into your back as you pulled open his office door and walked out like you hadn’t just resembled a cold hearted murderer. His fellow detectives and officers all glanced back into his now open office and he waved his hand dismissively to signal that he was okay.

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

“You sure you don’t want anything a little heavier?” Hoseok offered as he set down a glass of water in front of you; he and Yoongi had inventory to go over before opening for the night so they’d spent their day at the bar.

“Didn’t you hear?” You snorted as you lifted the glass to your lips and took a long gulp, “Tae put me on an alcohol ban after a messy assignment a few years ago.”

“He’s just looking out for you.” Yoongi grunted over a couple of cases of liquor he carried in from the back. “You know, since you didn’t allow us to do it.”

You rolled your eyes playfully as Hoseok snickered and made his way to the back room to carry in more boxes. “That wasn’t my choice.”

“You still could have found me after your grandfather died.” Yoongi braced his hands against the bar top, his eyes flicking down to the mark on your shoulder. “How are things with the panther?”

“It is what it is,” You tried to play off your argument with Jungkook but he knew enough about you to call bullshit. He also knew it wasn’t a good idea to push any further because you’d only shut him out if he did.

Yoongi watched your elbow come up to rest on the bar, your chin propped on the palm of your hand. He reached out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, “You’re so stubborn, little one. The kid’s hurt that you said you won’t give up hunting. Why aren’t you giving it up?”

“Hunting’s all I know,” You swallowed the lump in your throat, leaning into his touch as the back of his hand skimmed down your cheek. “After this is over, what purpose would I have, Yoongs? It’s not like I can just get a normal job.”

“Why don’t you become a bounty hunter?” He suggested, smiling softly at the way your eyes closed in content at his touch. “You’d definitely be the most successful with your tracking skills.”

“I’d have to out myself as a hybrid hunter,” Moving away from his hand, you took another drink from the glass in front of you, “not many people respect us these days, you know?”

“Your knowledge on hybrids is what will make you the best.” Yoongi picked up the bar rag Hoseok had left to wipe down the counter, “As much as those people don’t want to believe it, hybrids are capable of committing crimes. Some of them have chosen to live up to the stereotype that they’re just wild animals.”

Your head lolled from side to side, the tension from earlier becoming too much to hide anymore. A lot of it was because of the separation from Jungkook, but he was yet to speak to you and you weren’t one to give in either. It wasn’t in your nature to surrender and the throbbing pain of his mark should have been enough to send you running towards him but you wouldn’t allow it to control you.

A low whistle coming from the doorway caught your attention, the deep chuckle was familiar as your back straightened and glanced to Yoongi. His jaw was clenched and grip tight on the rag in his hand.

“We’re closed.” He growled as you pulled on Taehyung’s jacket and zipped it up to keep your new company from seeing Jungkook’s mark. “Get out.”

“I’ve been looking for you, Y/N,” Suho’s voice was smooth, relaxed in the way he greeted you. He was always good at keeping his composure and you found it admirable whenever you met on the street. Truthfully, he was the only hunter who was able to stand tall before you without being intimidated as much lately.

As you peered up from the glass in front of you to the mirror behind the shelves filled with liquor, you counted two more people flanking either side of Suho. Tipping the glass to your lips, you gulped down whatever water was left and twisted all the way around on the stool you occupied.

“I haven’t been hiding,” You matched his sinister smile with one of your own, “Your tracking skills were always shit. No wonder you can’t find the panther.”

“You haven’t found it either,” Suho hissed and balled his hands into fists, taking a step closer as his men did the same. “The bounty’s still out for it and believe me when I say I’m going to collect that money.”

“Yeah?” You tilted your head playfully, both mocking and riling him up at the same time. “Good luck with that.”

“I said we’re closed,” Yoongi interrupted before things got out of hand, “Leave, Suho. Xiumin and Kai not tell you about my warning the other night?”

Suho nodded while kissing the back of his teeth in a small ‘tsk’, “With their busted lips and swollen faces it was a little hard to understand so it might have gotten lost in translation.”

“Wanna hear it for yourself?” You stood from the bar stool before Yoongi could grip your shoulder to keep you in place. Tensing as his two goons stepped in front of him, you smirked; of course he wouldn’t go head to head with you. Suho never physically fought with you if it could be avoided, his hand to hand combat skills were nothing compared to yours.

“Damn it,” Yoongi muttered under his breath, listening for Hoseok stumble around in the back and praying he didn’t come out any time soon. He turned to make his way to the back room, trusting that you can handle the situation since getting involved and helping you out wouldn’t be welcomed. “Y/N, don’t make a mess.”

The tall man to Suho’s left you recognized as Chanyeol came at you first, rushing forward and throwing his fist out. You stepped back, gripping his forearm in the process and turning to smash his head into the bar top. He groaned, knees wobbling as he fell to the ground with his hand pressed to his now broken nose.

Suho pushed Kyungsoo forward, cursing Chanyeol’s failed attempt at landing a solid hit. Kyungsoo swung violently, his hands heavier than they look, narrowly missing your face as he threw punch after punch. His footwork was quick and he was able to keep up with you much better than Chanyeol could. Unfortunately for him, his footing became misplaced and you were able to catch him off guard by ducking to swipe at his feet. Kyungsoo grunted as he fell to the ground and quickly tried to scramble up but you were already atop him, knee pressed down on his shoulder with one hand fisting the front of his shirt. 

Raising your fist high, you brought your knuckles across Kyungsoo’s face in five solid hits, blood smeared across your hand and all around his mouth and nose. You looked up to his boss, jumping back before Suho could get his hands on you and kicking your foot out to hit him square in the gut and send him stumbling to his knees. You made a mental note to thank Taehyung for insisting you wear your steel toe boots instead of regular sneakers. Chest heaving unevenly, you stepped around Suho and slid one hand up the back of his head while the other cupped his chin.

Suho began to panic after falling to his knees and feeling you take your position, clawing at your arms but your grip was strong. He looked to his members frantically, a silent plea passing between them but they were injured too badly to even move. He felt your breath at his ear and winced when you jerked on his chin slightly.

“You were no match for me when you first got in the game, Suho,” You seethed and looked two his men sprawled on the floor before him, writhing in pain, “and you’re no match for me now. Stay the hell out of my way.” Releasing him, you stepped back to plant your feet and give yourself enough momentum to thrust your knee forward, sending Suho to his hands. 

“Bitch,” He spat as if he hadn’t been struggling against you a moment ago. “You think you’re so fucking great, Y/N, but the truth is that you’re worn out. A hunter with your magnitude of skill quitting after the laws were announced? You’re a coward that couldn’t take the heat.”

Rage shot through you like never before as you kneeled in front of him, gripping his chin tight in your hand and bringing his face close, “You used to be so scared of me, Suho.” A wicked grin took over your face before you could stop it, feeling his body stiffen as your free hand trailed underneath his shirt and up to his rib cage. His skin burned underneath your touch, muscles tensing as your finger traced a rather nasty scar along his midriff. The amount of fear you incited in him now that he was on all fours and at your mercy was unmatched when he met with other hunters.

Tears gathered in his eyes, his body shook in your hold, and a single tear slid down his face as you leaned in to whisper against his lips, “Don’t forget who gave you this scar. I was much too nice that day and today. Take your men and leave before I reopen this old wound and gift you a few fresh ones.”

You rose to your feet with your fingers still wrapped around Suho’s chin and heard the sound of the back door swinging open as Yoongi and Hoseok stepped out to see what happened. You caught his eyes flicker to the two men behind you and sunk your nails into his skin, hissing as he grunted, “Don’t make me regret letting you live.”

Suho gasped when you threw his head to the side, hearing Chanyeol scramble to his feet and attempt to wake Kyungsoo. He kept his gaze on the floor and waited for the taller man to gather his friend, turning on his heel to storm out of Yoongi’s bar with trembling hands. Outside, his hand drifted up to his torso where he felt for the scar over his t-shirt; he remembered that night quite well.

“I’m sorry. You’re asking me to what?” You snorted at Choi, hearing the rustling of Taehyung on your right and knowing he was equally amused.

Choi Sungil sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose; he had somehow made the mistake of hiring on both you and Suho for a job and suggested you partnered up instead of rampaging through the city in competition with each other. “Just work together. I can’t afford to pay you both separately.”

You tsked and shook your head, eyeing Suho standing to your left, “He’s a rookie, Choi. You really think he’ll do me any good? He’ll only slow us down.”

“Suho’s reputation is established well enough now. Besides,” Sungil gave Taehyung a once over and sneered, “I heard you were taking strays now.”

“Watch yourself.” You warned through grit teeth and took a step in front of Taehyung as if to shield him from the man’s view before turning to Suho. “I’ll take the newbie but his blood is on your hands if he doesn’t come back alive.”

Sungil nodded in understanding and waved his hand dismissively; he really couldn’t be bothered with what did or didn’t happen to Suho so long as you delivered on your end of the deal. “I want that lion, Y/N, don’t disappoint me.”

Taehyung took your cue to leave but heard your footsteps slow the closer you got to Suho and he turned to see you whisper something into his ear. Most likely a warning for him not to screw up or it was his head.

That night Suho was in charge of staking out the home, making sure the perimeter was clear and there would be no interruptions. You and Taehyung managed to slip inside to secure the lion hybrid for Choi and were close to getting away cleanly but Suho had managed to miss one little detail; the fucking idiot didn’t warn you that the hybrid’s family returned early.

You and Taehyung had been caught and had to fight your way through the hybrids but Taehyung had been injured in the process. Because Taehyung had gotten hurt, you spent the remainder of the night alternating between taking care of him and beating the shit out of Suho for screwing up. 

He remembered trying to fight back, remembered the sting of your blade as it pierced his skin, all the while promising that he wasn’t the only going to be paying for what happened to Taehyung.

“Boss?” Came Chanyeol’s nasally question, snapping Suho from his memories and causing the older man to scramble for their car. 

“Let’s get the fuck out of here and regroup,” Suho snapped at him and peeled away from the curb.

[dreamcatcherfication]

Ghosts Are Just as Real as You and Me - Part 5

Five parts? This is further than I thought I’d get. All I can say about this chapter is that Aragon is a saint and she deserves all our love for being the best person ever. Aka she’s the only one who hasn’t made bad decisions yet. This chapter might seem a little disjointed, seeing as it’s written in snapshots, but I wanted to try the new style. Hope you enjoy! Sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors, the only thing I’ve eaten today is a burnt piece of toast off the floor.

Writing Masterpost

If you want to send a request or a prompt, my inbox is always open! I publish a story at 8:00 AM PST everyday, so I’m always in need of new ideas. If you want to be tagged in my works, just let me know and I’ll be sure to tag you!

Prompts | More Prompts | The Trifecta of Prompts | Original Prompts

Trigger Warnings: Anxiety, (very) brief violence, cursing, Henry VIII

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Anne Boleyn had a plan. Or well, half a plan. Okay, maybe more like a fourth of a plan, but she was trying. There was no way she intended to help Henry tear her family apart, but there was only so much she could do. He had put her in an impossible position and Anne needed all her wits to figure a way out. 

At first, she had tried avoiding Kitty. If Anne didn’t hang around Kit, she wouldn’t have anything to give Henry. After her confrontation with Cathy yesterday, Anne had gone to her room to make sure everything was as it should be. Henry had demanded she write him a letter on everyone’s actions in the past week, so she had done as he asked, leaving the finished product outside her window. By isolating herself, Anne’s hope was that the letter wouldn’t provide him with his much needed information. But her behavior had become suspicious. Cathy was catching on, Anne knew that, so she had to try a different approach. It was a long shot, but Anne needed to start acting on her fourth of a plan.

“Hey Kit,” Anne poked her head into her cousin’s room. Kit glanced up from her book and smiled.

“Hey Annie, what’s up?” She put a bookmark in the page and set the book down, devoting her attention to Anne.

Inhaling through her nose, Anne pushed away any internal doubt. “Do you want to go on a walk with me? Through the park or something like that.”

Standing up Kit agreed. “Sure Anne. Two days in a row, this must be a record.”

Silently recalling what Kit was referring to, Anne remembered Kitty’s absence as well as Jane’s and Aragon’s. That must’ve been what she was referring to. Anne felt a pang of hurt run through her body because of how little she was involved in what was going on with her cousin. Usually they were attached at the hip, but because of Henry… “Great! Let’s go now.”

Anne ruffled Kit’s hair goodnaturedly as the two of them shared a grin. Without even acknowledging any of the other queens, the two of them beelined for the door. Praying no one would comment, Anne opened the door and ushered Kit outside. “Anne where are you taking -” she heard Cathy call, but Anne shut the door and blocked her voice out. 

“Did someone call your name?” Kit asked, taking a step towards the door.

“Nope,” Anne blocked her advance. “You’re probably just hearing things.”

Kit’s eyes narrowed slightly as she watched Anne, but she said nothing about her strange behavior. “Right…”

Attempting to cover up, Anne put on a dazzling smile. “Let’s get going, eh.”

Staring at the door, Cathy hadn’t moved from her spot. Anne had completely blown her off. For usually being the center of Anne’s attention, it was startling to Cathy. Not that she... wanted Anne’s attention. But it didn’t feel good to be completely disregarded. She must have looked offended, because when Jane entered the room, she immediately stopped in front of Cathy. “Is something wrong?”

Turning away from the door, Cathy faced Jane. She debated what to tell her, before confessing, “Anne’s been acting weird. Not weird in her normal way. I asked her where she was going with Kit and she totally ignored me.”

Jane frowned. “She has been very withdrawn lately. Is there anything else?”

Cathy bit her tongue. She could tell Jane about Anne’s journal or… “No. Just that her personality did a full 180 and that’s what’s bothering me.”

“Yes, well Anne is unpredictable, maybe she’s planning something?”

Glancing around Jane at the door, Cathy flared her nostrils. “Yeah, maybe.”

Catching Cathy’s strange reaction, Jane was flooded with suspicion. There was something Cathy wasn’t sharing with her. Jane wouldn’t push, but filed away the thought for later. If Cathy was being secretive, that immediately made Jane trust her less, especially around Kit. “There’s certainly a lot of pressure on everyone. Especially with Henry popping up everywhere.”

Pausing, Cathy swiveled her head back to Jane. Her mouth opened slightly. “The only person who’s seen Henry was Kit. Unless…”

“No,” Jane quickly covered up. “I meant it… not literally?” Her excuse sounded more like a question than an answer. “It feels like he’s everywhere, is what I mean. No one else has seen him.”

If Jane was suspicious of Cathy, Cathy was doubly suspicious of her. Jane tended to be more collected than the others (bar Aragon), and seeing her suddenly stuttering was a red flag for Cathy. Something wasn’t right. Jane knew something like Cathy did, and she wasn’t sharing. Two could play that game.

The two women who had been helping each other only moments before were now standing in cold silence. They both regarded each other with narrowed eyes and upturned lips. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go write.”

“Of course,” Jane replied, the usual warmth in her gaze gone. “I wouldn’t want to keep you.” They shared a nod, the same thought on both their minds.

The game is on.

“So Kit, what’ve you been up to lately?” Anne started the conversation, putting her hands into her pockets. 

The girl in question shrugged and kicked a rock on the sidewalk. “Not much. I started looking into taking online school.”

Smiling supportively, Anne gave her cousin her approval. “That’s really cool, Kit. What classes? Please don’t say something boring like maths.”

“Nah,” Kit shook her head. “Science and art. But mainly history.”

Scrunching her nose, Anne fumbled with her words momentarily. “Are you - uh, sure that’s the best option?”

“Yes,” Kit stated resolutely. “History’s always interested me. I want to know more, even if I’m a part of it. We missed so much Annie, aren’t you the least bit curious about how we got here?”

“I know how we got here -”

“You know,” Kit laughed, “what the internet and Hamilton have taught you. There’s more to it.”

“Eh,” Anne wasn’t particularly dedicated. “Why focus so much on history when you can live in the now? I’m tired of worrying what already happened. What’s done is done. We’re here for a second chance, we shouldn’t waste it.”

It was hard for Kit not to agree. “I can’t argue with that. We should use our second chances to do something we want to.”

Realizing she was being given a perfect opportunity, Anne gently prodded, “Speaking of second chances, why do you think Henry’s got one?” It was a good way for Anne to get the conversation started so she could press Kitty harder on the Henry topic.

“No.” Kit stopped in place. “I’m out on a nice walk with my cousin who’s been avoiding me for the past week. We are not going to talk about that -” she clenched her teeth in order not to curse, “terrible man. He’s not here right now. I’m not going to let him ruin a perfectly nice afternoon.”

Anne had to admire Kit’s resolve. The protective part of her was ready to defend Kitty at every corner, but the girl looked plenty capable of protecting herself. After the initial shock of Henry’s confrontation had faded, Kit had hardened herself. She had let him get to her once, and she wouldn’t let it happen again, even if it meant she had to cut off her fear. On the inside, Kit felt all sorts of emotions churning in her chest, the kind that would send her running to Jane normally. But she couldn’t do that. She would power through, and she would survive.

Anna had locked the door to her room as she practiced her boxing. A punching bag was makeshift hung from the ceiling as she practiced her stances and kicks. Her grunts were loud, a mix of exertion and frustration. She wasn’t getting the results she wanted and it was working her up. Punch after punch after kick after punch, the bag swung back and forth. Still, Anna was having trouble with the heavier weighted bags. If she couldn’t beat something that wasn’t fighting back, how could she match Henry?

A knock came from the other side of her door followed by, “Can I come in?”

“One second,” Anna called. As fast as she could, Anna took down the punching bag and slid it into her closet, out of view. Wiping the sweat off her forehead, she attempted to appear cool and collected. Unlocking the door, she let Aragon in. 

Aragon’s eyes darted around the room as she walked in, sensing something off. She didn’t comment on it, electing to give Anna her privacy. But there was something she did need to talk about with her fellow divorcee. “Anna.”

“Catherine.”

Sighing, Aragon held her hands together. “I’ve noticed you’ve been out a lot lately. Or shut up in your room. I know how close you and Kitty are, and I don’t think you should be doing this.”

Feeling her defensive instincts kick in, Anna stepped forward. “What do you mean, ‘doing this’?”

Staying calm, Aragon stared Anna in the eyes. “I don’t know, and I don’t need to know. But you’ve disappeared and it’s not helping anyone. I know you care about Kit. She’s doing fine on her own, but we’re all worried about her. If she breaks, you’re the best person to help her. I know Jane or Anne might not feel that way, but I see the way you two act around each other.”

“That sounds vaguely like spying,” Anna commented, leaning against her wall.

“I suppose it does.” Aragon just seemed tired, drained. Anna felt bad, treating her so rudely. “I mean to say that she trusts you more than anyone else. Kit knows you in a way she doesn’t know any of us. She may trust Jane and Anne with everything, but you’re her best friend.” 

There was a twinge in Anna’s heart as she thought about Aragon’s words. She had barely seen Kit this past week, too busy with her own goals. But if Anna didn’t do this, she would be putting Kit in harm’s way. She could afford to lose some of Kit’s trust. She couldn’t afford to lose Kit. “You said she’s been doing fine on her own,” Anna stated bluntly. “She doesn’t need me.”

“Of course she needs you,” Aragon fired back.

Straightening up and stepping away from the wall, Anna tightened her fists. “Don’t treat Kit like a child. She may be young, but she’s not a baby, Catherine.”

The bags under Aragon’s eyes seemed to become even more pronounced when she looked down. “I don’t mean to baby her. I’m not trying to control anyone, but we need to stay unified. If Henry is coming for us, he’s going to come for our cracks. Pulling away from Kit isn’t going to help anyone, Anna.”

“Well that’s not your choice to make now, is it,” Anna refused to give in. Part of her hoped Henry would come and attack them. That way she would have her chance to take him down.

Murmuring, “One track mind,” Aragon started to make her way out of the room.

“What did you say?” Anna asked, trying to disguise the frustration building in her voice.

Her eyes boring straight through Anna, Aragon replied, “One track mind. Don’t focus so much on one thing that you block everything else out.” With that she exited the room and closed the door, leaving Anna alone.

“What does she know,” Anna consoled herself, going to the closet. She pulled the punching bag out, hanging it up once more. Even if Anna secretly understood what Aragon was telling her, she couldn’t take the time to listen. Anna wouldn’t allow herself to waste a second.

On the other side of the door, Aragon had sunk to the floor. She curled up in a ball and muffled her screaming. Yesterday, she had acted like she noticed nothing, being the happy companion Jane and Kitty had needed. But Aragon saw the nervousness behind each of Kit’s movements, especially when she struggled to tell the barista her order. She noticed Jane’s change in demeanor after parking the car. She was witnessing Anna pull away from the group and hurt herself in order to do whatever it is she thought she was doing. Aragon saw how suspicious Cathy had gotten of everyone, constantly watching and judging. She saw how Anne had lost her light and hidden from them all in some misguided attempt to protect her cousin.

The worst part of it all was that Aragon could watch on and do nothing. The others didn’t give her credit for her observations. Aragon wouldn’t push, that was a violation of respect towards the others, but God, did she want to. If she could just help them, any one of them.

A sob came out of her mouth as she curled into herself tighter.

Anne and Kit had reached a small children’s playground when they decided to stop walking. It was the middle of a school day and no one was around but the two of them. Kit was sitting on one of the swings while Anne stood at the top of the play structure. It was a bit of an odd picture, both of them being far too big for the miniaturized playthings, but neither of them mentioned it. “I missed this,” Kit spoke up.

“Missed what?” Anne smiled down at her cousin, rocking back and forth on her feet.

“You and me,” Kit explained. “I know it’s only been a week, but you disappeared and I started thinking maybe it was my fault or -”

“No!” Anne quickly assured her. “It’s never your fault Kitty.”

“Then why were you avoiding me?” Kit stood up off the swing and walked until she was under Anne. She tilted her head up and reached a hand out. Grabbing her cousin, Anne helped to hoist her onto the structure.

“I wasn’t avoiding you.”

Frowning, Kit pushed, “Then what were you doing?”

“I…” when Anne couldn’t find an excuse, she admitted, “Okay, I was avoiding you.”

Hurt flashed across Kit’s face, but she stifled it. Best not to dwell on feelings if she could avoid them. “Why would you avoid me?”

There was no way Anne could explain it to Kit without telling her everything. “It’s… complicated.

“Perhaps I could help explain.” The two cousins whipped around at the familiar voice, bodies freezing when they saw him. Henry was standing on the other side of the playground, his smirk just as sickening as Kit remembered. “It’s not as complicated as you make it sound, Dear Anne.”

“Get the fuck away from us,” Anne ordered, stepping in front of Kit.

Henry pretended to look offended. “But I thought you would love to see me after agreeing to help me. Your letter was very insightful.”

Holding back her fear, Kit questioned, “What’s he talking about Anne?”

“It’s not important,” Anne said, not taking her eyes off Henry.

“It actually is quite important,” Henry contradicted Anne, approaching the two. Anne and Kit started to take steps back off the structure. “Without your insight I wouldn’t be able to see how well things are going. You’re all so predictable,” he spit out the last part.

Eyes widening in betrayal, Kit started to step away from Anne. “You’re helping him?”

“I would never help him,” Anne growled.

“But you are,” Henry’s tone was light but his eyes were threatening. “I even have your letter if you’d like sweet sweet Kitty to see it.” He pulled out Anne’s letter from the night before and waved it around like a prize.

The betrayal on Kit’s face was enough to break Anne. “Kit, you have to believe me, he’s lying.”

“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” Kit’s eyes flicked between the two of them. “Did you bring me here so he could find me?”

“Of course not!” Anne shouted, distress building in her stomach. There was the fear building that Kit wouldn’t believe her, and she couldn’t afford that. Anne had a plan. She wouldn’t let Henry change the game before she got her turn. “There’s a lot going on that you don’t understand, Kit.”

“Because you never tell me anything,” Kit shot back, her voice icy. 

While the cousins argued, Henry had come closer “I can’t stay much longer,” Henry brought the cousins’ attention back to him. He was now far too close for comfort, his terrible stench engulfing the two girls. “But you can have a little souvenir before I go.” 

And then he pulled out a knife and stabbed Kit.

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

Tag List:

@radcowboyalmondtree @boleynhowards @annabanana2401 @babeebobo @dont-lose-your-queerhead @obliviousasheck @theatergirl06

[anotherdarkiboi]

Love Hurts- Bing/Google

Warnings: injuries, blood, medical mentions, getting beaten up, insults, fighting, mild cursing, one sided pining turned guilt.

"Walk it off," Bing mumbles to himself, "walk it off."

The swollen black eye and bruises littering his body ache, making it difficult for him to see and move. He wouldn't be surprised if a rib or two was fractured and his left ankle (or whatever android equivalent he had) hurt enough for him to think it might be twisted.

"Walking it off" hurt like a bitch.

Bing slowly limps to Dr. Iplier's office and makeshift bedroom with every step shooting pain up his left leg. He squints his one good eye to adjust to the darkness of night, peering around the hallway corners and making sure there was no one around before progressing. Bing doubted anyone would be wandering around in the middle of the night, but many of the egos were either insomniacs or didn't require sleep, so he checked to be safe. He doesn't want to be seen like this.

He keeps one arm along the wall for support, the other arm clutching his trusty skateboard. He licks his upper lip experimentally: it was split, tasting like iron and rust. Bing winces at the sting, the movement further straining his injured mouth. At least I'll get a sick looking scar from this, he thinks.

Bing softly knocks on Dr. Iplier's door. "Hey Doc, you in?" he stage whispers.

There is a sound of something heavy falling to the ground and a string of unintelligible cursing on the other side.

"I swear, if this is another one of those late-night skateboarding incidents-" The door opens to reveal a sleep deprived doctor. "What happened to you?"

Dr. Iplier grabs Bing's skateboard and helps him into the room, maneuvering the android's arm over his shoulder to distribute the weight off Bing's left ankle. The doctor then eases Bing upright onto the hospital cot.

The android could feel Dr. Iplier's gaze scanning him and the splotches of neon orange blood on his skin. Bing doesn't answer the doctor's question.

"Close the door," Bing says.

The doctor complies, his worry growing. He's instantly by Bing's side again, assessing his many injuries. The bruises and broken skin look like the result of punches: the black eye too. It was obvious that it was intentional. Especially with the android's uncharacteristically shady behavior, there was definitely someone else involved.

Dr. Iplier grabs a bottle of antiseptic and some bandages to work on the worst of the wounds. He also got ice for Bing's ankle and black eye and cream for the split lip. The doctor glances at Bing worriedly, who hasn't made eye contact ever since he was admitted into the makeshift clinic. Dr. Iplier dabs carefully at the wounds with a white cloth. Bing sharply inhales in pain.

"Bing... Who did this to you?"

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

It was obvious to everyone that Google hated Bing. They were made by opposing companies after all, and their personalities clashed like baking soda and vinegar in a science fair volcano: it was explosive. It was a Cold War for the most part, with petty bickering and casual insults attacked from both fronts and their anger simmering below the surface.

Google didn't seemed bothered by it. He was a very left-brained individual: cold, cool, and calculating. Google was blunt in his insults and no matter how hard Bing tried, nothing he said seemed to hurt Google as much as he wanted to. Sometimes Bing doubted the android had the ability to feel emotions other than annoyance and pride.

Bing wasn't similar. Sure, he had thick skin. He was as much of an android as Google and it was rare for him to feel the emotional extremes. Bing was mellow a solid 95% of the time, hence why most people upon first meeting him thought he was always high. He tried not to let Google's creative and scarily accurate insults get to him. Google even refused to touch him, 'lest he "tarnish his hands from Garbage: Personified". Bing had to admit, that one stung.

Of course, it wasn't like he could say anything about it. He'd lose the one source of interaction he had with Google and admit defeat by stopping now. It was far too late to back out or tone things down: his feelings had been hurt too much already. And besides, Bing liked messing with Google. He enjoyed the attention even if it was negative, because for the most part that was the only attention he got.

Bing liked him, maybe a bit more than he wanted to admit. He knew he didn't have a chance. Google hated his circuits after all, and they've been fighting too much to be able to reconciliate. Bing wanted to be Google's friend, maybe even more than that. He knew he should stop, he should stay away, he should just leave Google alone or at least settle for being rivals instead of holding onto this hopeless desire. But somehow he couldn't. Even so, Bing hated Google, and hated himself for not being able to hate Google more.

Bing found himself in Google's room that night, interrupting his recharge cycle. Google was running on 1% battery so he was a little loopy and out of sorts: never a good thing if you're an android bent on destroying mankind.

Google was annoyed at Bing for preventing his "sleep", which spurred into the two of them arguing about what is more important than sleep. Surprisingly their bickering was more muted, borderline playful banter. Maybe it was because Google was tired and Bing was tired of fighting. It was the first time that Google spoke to Bing on somewhat equal footing.

Bing noticed.

He vaguely remembered making a joke at Dark's expense and Google rolling his eyes dramatically without his usual malice. Bing remembered smiling, a lot. Bing remembered wishing that things could always be like this, that they could talk together without being at each other's throats all the time.

"How is it that someone as low as yourself can be so popular?" Google commented elusively.

Bing chose to ignore the downplayed insult. At first he thought Google was trying his hand at sarcasm. Google stared at Bing directly in the eyes (making Bing uncomfortable) and spoke with genuine conviction. He wasn't joking.

Bing didn't consider himself popular by any means. He was default, which meant he hung around the humans more and was better adapted to them. Even though Google was the superior search engine technologically (Bing would never admit it), he still maintained the same icy personality that he had ever since he was first programmed.

Bing had some friends, sure. Some of the Ipliers and the Septiceyes for one, especially his "bro away from home", Chase Brody. But for the most part, people found him annoying and left him alone. People only asked for him out of necessity; everyone knew that Google's processors were much faster and more efficient.

If Bing was "popular", then what was Google? Bing didn't recall Google having any friends and outside of their daily bouts of arguing, giving status reports to Dark and Dr. Iplier, and running around the house to install new tech (the origins of which are unknown- everyone assumes that Google buys them for their own safety), Google rarely left the property.

It hit Bing rather suddenly. For all of Google's pride/borderline god complex, Bing finally figured him out. Google was lonely. This line of thinking only took a few seconds to go through Bing's processors. Bing responded.

"Folks like me because I'm cool. Why? You jealous?" Bing taunted. Google glared at him with glowing red eyes. Bing smirked. Payback, bitch.

"I don't have the capacity to feel such emotions," Google responded in his usual monotone. The subtle gritting of his teeth and clenching of his jaw didn't escape Bing's watchful gaze. That and the piercing death glare and the fact that Google's eyes glowed red was a strong indicator of the contrary.

"Bullshit!" Bing exclaimed, dramatically pointing his index finger at Google like an Ace Attorney lawyer. All his pent-up frustration tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop and feel regret.

"You think you're so high and mighty, but your processors just can't handle the truth. Us androids were built to resemble humans and we both know how you suck ass at it bro. I think you're just jealous 'cause you could never get anywhere close to my level. No wonder you have no friends: you can't feel love, can't feel happiness, can't feel anything, man. You think you're good at everything but really you're just good at being a huge-"

Before Bing could finish, he was pummeled in the face with over 400 pounds of blunt force. The impact of Google's fist knocked Bing backwards, making him trip on his skateboard. He fell to the ground, hard, the air getting knocked out of his lungs. A seering pain traveled up Bing's leg from his left ankle where he tripped.

Bing forced his eyes open to look up at Google, holding his hands up apologetically. "Woah man, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say it like that."

He meant it. Bing did not expect Google to react that strongly and like Google said, he didn't even think the other android was able to feel emotions to that extent. That was literally the last thing he wanted to say. It threw all his hopes and dreams into a blender, burned them to ashes, and scattered them into the ocean.

Bing fucked up.

Google stared down at Bing with contempt. He was pissed, more pissed than Bing's ever seen him. Whatever cold façade Google had left came crashing down to reveal a very angry (and hurt) android. Guilt knotted itself in Bing's stomach.

Google bent down and straddled Bing, pushing him to the floor with one hand on his shoulder. In any other circumstance Bing would have welcomed it, but he knew that whatever hope he had left of that happening for real was going to be literally beaten out of him.

This is going to hurt, Bing thought.

With his other hand, Google continued punching and hitting Bing wherever his fist could reach.

Bing hated being right.

On one hand, Bing was happy that Google actually felt comfortable touching him, even if it was with an  excessive amount of strength. On the other hand, it hurt. A lot. His body stung, ached, and burned everywhere. The 200-ish pounds of android pinning him down wasn't helping much either.

Bing was sure he deserved it. He did say some hurtful shit (but so had Google) and he did do some things to spur Google on (and Google did the same), so Bing decided not to fight back. If punching his guts out made Google happier, so be it: Bing could stand it. A little pain never killed anybody, right?

Bing tried to be as quiet as possible to not alert the other other egos in the house, but he knew it was only a matter of time before they figured out something was wrong. He wasn't planning on ratting Google out, he was going to take what he thought was the "high road" and protect the other android, no matter the cost. At least then there was the tiniest sliver of hope that Google would forgive him, or at least not hate him so much.

I wouldn't mind if you killed me now, Bing thought morbidly.

Bing squeezed his eyes tight and bit his lip hard, braced for the endless barrage of pain. He tried to use his hands and arms to at least try to block the brunt of the energy from colliding with his face. Bing vaguely wondered if the liquid running down his cheeks were tears, blood, or both.

The punches slowed to a stop. Bing peeked his eyes open. Google panted from his systems overheating with his glasses uncharacteristically askew. He stared at Bing with shaking fists, some of the knuckles split and bleeding blue. Google's brows were furrowed and his expression was one and hurt and distress.

"Why do you make me feel like this?" he muttered glitchily.

Google then promptly collapsed onto Bing's chest. A voice emanating from Google's unconscious body spoke in a monotone: "insufficient battery level to run primary functions. Powering down".

At least he wasn't dead. Bing summoned whatever strength he had left in his arms to roll the other android off him. Google's head hit the floor with a dull thump. Bing mumbled an "oof" in sympathy.

He slowly sat up with a sharp inhale. Everything hurt. One of Bing's eyes felt stiff and puffy and his torso ached every time he moved. He picked himself up off the floor with the unsteady legs of a newborn deer. And like a newborn deer, he was world-weary, in emotional and physical pain, and covered in blood.

Bing spared a glance at his tormentor. Google lay face up with his limbs sprawled on the floor. He had a serene expression, a sharp contrast to his previous  tumultuous appearance. He was too far away and too heavy for Bing to move to the charging port so Bing grabbed a throw blanket and gently draped it on top of Google's "sleeping" form. Bing hoped that he wouldn't remember anything the next morning.

Bing really [E̷̟͝R̶̥͘R̶̡̊Ö̵̲́R̷͚̍ ̸̪̉4̵͚̇0̷̣̽4̵̢͐ ̴͙̋W̵̱̊o̸̰͒r̶̳͊d̵̞͒ ̴̣̓N̸̝̑o̵̞̾t̸̡̋ ̸̜̈F̷̢̑ȯ̷̩u̸͍͛ń̶̟d̸̳̑] him.

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

Bing smiles, answering Dr. Iplier's question. It hurt his face to do it, but he did so anyways to prove his point. The doctor pauses, awaiting the android's response with unease and uncertainty.

"No one did this to me," Bing says, practically beaming to the point of physical pain, "It's not that bad, Doc. I'm fine with it."

He meant it.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #313

“i’m your turbo lover  /  tell me there’s no other”

Where are you located at this moment? In my bed. What if you found out your ex was having a child with someone else? If it was Sara, I'm finding out who the fuck I'm flying up there to punch his face in. If it was Jason, I'd either faint or be in the bathroom vomiting. Or both. I can almost promise you at least one or the other while I have an absolute emotional breakdown. I'm not at the point in my recovery where I can hear that and be entirely okay. I'd be happy for any of the others. At what age do you think you'll be ready to have children? Never. When was the last time you couldn't stop laughing? Why? I don't recall. Which of your friends do your parents get along best with? I guess Girt, since he's known my mom the longest of the friends I still have. I don't know about Dad; he barely knows any of my friends seeing as I don't live with him and see him rarely. Is there anyone in your friendship group that your parents don't like? No. Can you recall the last time you were extremely disappointed? I surprisingly can't remember, even though I know it was recent. Who was the last person to un-friend you on Facebook? I don't know, it's not like I go hunting people down if I notice the number has dropped, lol. Do you know why he/she decided to un-friend you? I'm certain it would've been something political. Are there any food wrappings, boxes, containers etc. in your room? No. Do you know anyone who does have cancer? I don't think anyone who currently has it, no. I may know someone via association, but idk. What is the worst medicine you've ever taken? There are two that very strongly stand out: the first one was in middle school, and the second sometime last year. I was put on an antidepressant that made me absolutely love life in the morning, like I would practically prance through school, but come afternoon, I was a fucking demon. Mom took me off that shit so fast. Most recently, my birth control was changed to have more estrogen for some reason I can't recall (maybe it had to do with mood?? idk), and it made me... I'm just gonna say I was a ~mess~. I slammed on breaks with it so fuckin fast. Safe to say I returned to my normal pill. Has your house or where you stayed ever flooded? My childhood home came very close during Hurricane Floyd. Thankfully the water never got actually inside the house, but it was an absolute lake outside. What was the last event or special occasion you participated in? My niece's birthday was actually a couple days ago, so we celebrated at my sister's house. What do you find yourself reminiscing about the most? I'll give you one guess. Do you have a favorite pianist? No. Song you listened to last is...? I have "Turbo Lover" by Judas Priest on right now. What's the last type of cookie you ate? Uhhh I would assume chocolate chip. Do you have your own computer? I have my own laptop, and I'm possibly getting an actual computer come May?? One of my WoW friends knows the hell I've been through with this laptop, and she and her husband are getting new computers then, so she's basically pushed her husband's old one on me, lol. Apparently it works just fine, he just wants something better. I've told her again and again to make some money off of it, but she's pretty much giving me no choice lmao. I appreciate it a whole lot, though. It'd be pretty nice to separate games onto an actual, capable desktop versus making my laptop sound like it's screaming for God's mercy if I boot something up. Describe your computer chair? I don't have one. Well, there's an old one in the extra room I'm going to end up using, but all I know is it's black. I've never paid closer attention to it. Do you sleep with your door open or closed? Open. I feel too isolated with it closed. Are you going to keep your last name when you get married? God no, it's very unlikely. I hate my last name, take it away. Does it bother you when people beg? Why are they begging, and how insistently? It depends. Do you have any weird rings? I have two, but neither I consider weird, at least. Well, I suppose the one with "bitch" carved on the inside would confuse non-Supernatural fans, haha. Are you anything like your siblings? Not really, no. At least, my two immediate sisters. Mom says I'm extremely similar to her eldest daughter though and wishes we'd talk more, but yeah, I just don't have anything to talk about with her. I'm so bad at initiating conversation. When was the last time you shaved your legs? October for when I was doing that witchy photoshoot with a friend. I absolutely hate shaving my legs and pretty much only do if anyone else whose opinion would affect me may see them. What would be the best surprise you could receive right now? Uhhh I guess all the "upgrades" I want to make to Venus' enclosure: a 40g tank and a nice, accurate hygrometer and thermometer, as well as the proper kind of lamp for her. I feel like such a "bad snake mom" still having her in her current terrarium because, while it's perfectly liveable and not dangerous, it's too small for her. It's pretty much always on my mind to some degree nowadays, so just like, dropping the terrarium and extra tools off would be a massive weight off my shoulders. Did you ever skip a grade or get held back a grade? No, but I was able to skip the intro Writing course the last time I was in college; I just started in Writing II. Who took your profile pic? Anywhere where it's a picture of myself, odds are me. I hate getting pictures taken, but if it's gonna happen, it'll be through myself, knowing my "good" angle and such, lol. Have you ever been fishing? Do you know anyone who likes fishing as a hobby? I've been fishing many times, especially as a kid with my dad. There are pleeeenty of people I know who enjoy it. I don't anymore. Do you own any cats? What color are their eyes? Yes; his are a light blue. Is there a rose bush in your garden? What color are its roses? We don't have a garden. When was the last time you spent over $100 in one transaction? What did you buy? Over $100 with my own cash, a plane ticket. My recent tattoo deposit was exactly a hundred. Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? Would you judge a grown adult for doing so? No; Roman would NEVER allow me to cuddle anything else, and I am not even remotely kidding. I couldn't care less if any adult does, though. Would you rather read an erotic novel or watch an erotic film? Ew, neither, but I guess a book would be better just so my eyes weren't forever scarred. What’s your favorite way to make your home smell good? Do you spend a lot of money on making this happen? INCENSE!!!! God, I love incense burners. I don't light it anymore though because Venus' terrarium is also in my room, and it's not good for snakes. What are the main two colors in the room you’re currently in? Did you pick these colors out yourself? Just... white. That's it. Well, my furniture is brown. I didn't pick either. How often do you wake up in the night needing to pee? Usually once, sometimes not at all anymore. I guess my bladder actually grew a pair. If you live in a household with pets, who is responsible for their care - both in terms of finance and the physical tasks involved? As far as the physical care, me. Mom does help me do a full clean of Venus' cage sometimes, though, because I don't trust myself to both keep her around my neck while I scrub the tank, hide, bowl, etc., with a cat that is my absolute shadow. I don't want to be bent over the tub and Roman tries to do something; he's shown very little interest in Venus, but still, I'm one hell of a paranoid snake mom that doesn't want to risk her life. Full cleans only happen like twice a year, so I don't mind too much asking my mother for some help. I should point out that Mom doesn't want to hold her, so we can't reverse roles. Do you have anything hanging from your ceiling apart from lights? Not anymore, no. At my old house and the one before, I had lots of Pyramid Head gift tags hanging, but our landlord doesn't want me to do that here. Would you describe yourself as neat, messy or somewhere in-between? I'm in-between. If you have pets, when was the last time one of them needed to go the vets? Venus had to go to the vet about a year into me having her because she was showing symptoms of an RI in strange breathing episodes, which can be fatal to a snake. Thank God, nature, whatever, that she didn't. There were warning signs, but closer watch over her humidity saved her. Roman, meanwhile, was taken to the vet like a year ago to be neutered. When the pandemic is over, what is one thing you can’t wait to do again? I barely ever left the house beforehand, so... I guess go to the movies. What’s one thing (aside from essentials) that you spend the most money on each month? Has anyone ever told you you’re obsessed or addicted with it? N/A What’s your favourite genre of TV show to watch? What’s your favourite show that’s not from that genre? If I had to pick, uhhh... yeah, idk, due to the whole "not into TV much to begin with" thing. Would you rather be employed or self-employed? Why? Self-employed, though taking care of all business matters yourself is/would suck. I just really want to be my own boss for the sake of photographing whatever I want. IIs your hair naturally curly, straight or somewhere in between? Do you wish it was different? It's straight, but on the wavy side, and I wish it wasn't. Do you ever play online games with your friends? Which one(s)? Just WoW. In the last week, have you had any alcoholic beverages? Which? No. Do you ever wear accessories in your hair? Which ones? No. Do you feel free to post your views on social media? Yep. I honestly don't care who it pisses off. What is your favorite work of historical fiction? Well, I don't really know what you consider truly "historical" in age... That, and I'm bad at dates to begin with. There are lots and lots of older books and movies I adore, though. Old Yeller is one of my favorite books ever, for one. The Boy In The Striped Pajamas makes me sob, too. What cartoon character looks like you? I remember when Hotel Transylvania came out, my ex's mob pointed out how much she thought I looked like the daughter, especially when my hair was dyed black. Do you have hope for the future? Some days I do, some days I don't. Do you believe in yourself? Ehhhh... debatable, idk. Do you have trouble letting go of your past? Oh yes. Were you happy in high school? It's funny, I was very depressed in HS, but due to Jason and friends, it's one of my most cherished time periods. Were you ever a teacher's favorite? I mean it modestly, but I was almost always pretty obviously one of the teachers' favorites. I was a good student. Are you popular? I wasn't. If you won a title in the senior class polls, what was it? I didn't. Have you ever had a medical condition that made you unable to work? My social anxiety is so debilitating that it's made it questionable. It ruined my very short-lived previous jobs. What makes your life worth living? My future goals, family, friends... What is your favorite Bible verse? I don't have one. List five careers you've considered. Paleontologist, vet, game designer, author, and wildlife biologist are all past ones. Do you have any unusual talents? If so, what? No. What do you get compliments on? My hair and my art, mostly. What have people told you you should be? I've heard "a vet" most in my life. What is holding you back? My (mostly social) anxiety and extreme fear of judgment. Do you have anyone purely evil in your life? Hell no, I wouldn't allow that person to stay in my life. Have you ever felt threatened for your life? I've felt scared for it, yes. While riding my bike once, I ran into a guy in my old neighborhood who had a criminal history, including assault, just asking what I was listening to on my iPod. I stopped because I was scared to keep going, and he wound up asking for my Facebook, but guess who didn't accept THAT friend request. List ten positive words that describe you. That's too much thinking, man. List ten negative words that [you feel] describe you. And that's too much negativity to fish in. Are you a good person or a bad person? I mean, I try to be a good one. Have you ever contemplated being a bad person? I've done bad things, but I've certainly never deliberated tried to be an overall bad person. Have you ever resorted to vandalism because you didn't have a voice? No. Have you ever egged someone's house? Wow, no. Do you want to egg someone's house? Also no because I'm a fucking adult. Have you ever seen a piece of graffiti that you are thankful for? What an odd question. I mean, no? Name three people who hurt you and didn't care. I am quite positive Colleen doesn't care about the many times she did considering she's always right. Was your first crush sexual, or no? No, I was just a kid. What would you do if you got pregnant right now? I honestly can't say I know. If I was God forbid raped, I'd probably have an abortion because I psychologically could not handle that without being scarred for life. If it was by my own stupidity, I feel I'd probably have the baby but give it up for adoption. I just can't raise a kid. Do you have a medical condition that you are embarrassed or ashamed to tell people you have? No, I don't think so. What do you get asked the most? Hm. OH, WAIT, THAT'S EASY. I get asked a lot if my lip piercing hurt. Have you ever stood up for someone else who was being bullied? I know I have before, but I don't remember the occasion. What tragic news stories that you've heard has touched you the most? Man, that's a lot to think about. You see news articles on Facebook all the time, and a whole lot of them touch me, so I dunno. What is your favorite thing to order at Taco Bell? I like the cheese quesadillas, and whatever those cinnamon bites are called are really good. I'm still tilted they got rid of the fiesta potatoes, because I adored those. Where do you have cutting scars (if you have any)? I only ever had them on my wrist, but you can't see them anymore. Do you like cotton candy? Not very, but I mean, I can have a bite or two. It's way too sweet to eat a lot of it. What's the best piece of graffiti you've ever seen? I'm unsure, but I've definitely seen beautiful work, especially online. Do you like tattoos? "Like" is a colossal understatement. Do you like piercings? Yep yep yep. Have you ever made someone so mad that they broke something? No. Those are not people I hang around with. Who is the last person you slow-danced with? Slow-danced? I don't think I've done that since Jason.

[captainkurosolaire]

Passion’s Twist

🎵 Music 🎵 In a chilling pitch confronted right before the shadowy seated past the organ’s conductor pausing clearly detecting the Captain’s arrival. Underestimating and not paying attention to his vessel’s intruder that’s just how the former gap and dynamic of what was so known frail prior a plant that’s existence was only to be stomped on. "This is a world where we barter for freedom do you remember that price?"                                                                          “Blood." A signalized assurance that this was inescapable as was their pact before going into a war-zone now they were the parties involved and they’d spill. For beliefs, for principals, for freedom stands the mightiest and tallest. It was time to see what they do with their own respective. The Betrayer obviously chose to dominate and like any tyrannical with power they’d enslave any beneather.

Fiendishly hands came unraveled from the organ The Betrayer’s figure came unglued, a side-stand with a pipe was dragged off rest. A cheap and forward lunge came darting from out through a trench coat the rugged Midlander of porcelain complexion revealed before a lighting strike nearby a dangling choker carrying a tiny dirk near his torso a message of his inner characteristics an untrustworthy backstabber. Instinctively Captain recoiled defensively to block grabbing one grip between him and the blunt object. However he had forgotten as often a turncoat always carries under their sleeves pocketed disaster. Shivs drew out and plunged into the forearm deeply of the Seeker causing him to bellow out in agony. Two inserted before Kuro bounced back on his feet. Stammering as fitting First blood was drawn. He pried the steel from his arms chunking them like darts to the owner. Who batted them with the lead pipe. Shaking his head and fighting off the fatigue settling quickly in that was telling him to fall to rest. Kuro stood back up and charging in grit a tucked under palm like a hand holding out for fountain water drew to collect his own blood when he closed in the distance he’d stop suddenly and slather it forward as like tar to blind using his own blood. Now another grunt echoed back from opposition aimlessly the pipes swung towards the direction. Kuro taking the wrists and swinging around and elbowing to the heart of Bellum caused him to disarm before growling out and now charging also back. He’d shove Kuro towards the organ and then continue thrashing and wailing on him banging and drumming the skull of the Miqo’te against the keyboard making them both flounder from the tune that sought to deprive them of their hearing. Shouting back, “Ye should’ve stayed dead!!!“  As his adrenaline and rage spiked his memories recalling his fondness and their bond that he squandered to the waste side. However it seemed he hadn’t truly buried it far enough under internal shallow. A daze rang against the Seeker who barely heard through who hung and began curling to block his face against being slammed the boarded prints grazed his cheeks. He’d kick back hitting the kneecap of the blindly rampant and then capitalize on hitting a below the belt hit. Staggering back and wincing he bought enough time before both them in the center room locked up again. Punching each-other senseless square in the face unguarded blow after blow they began swelling up already. Every emotion tossed back they felt the depletion in their vitality with each landed impact. Kuro staggering and teetering allowed opportunity for the Dirk on The Betrayer’s necklace to be removed and hastily close in. Kuro barely grabbed his wrists in-time, the razor literally an ilm off from hitting his pupil. His leather boot squished and stood on his armed opponent to keep him locked in and prevent from scooting off. They both in guttural wrenches looked to hold decisiveness. Kuro’s eye’s glowered brighter than before as his pupil spun and shaped into using his gifted amplified Star-Sight. He cross-chopped in the neck Bellum losing his hold as the tiny blade disappeared, after it lost from his grips seemingly disappearing in vanish. Captain in pure sharp pain cried a shout back at it ran against his face in his reflective pupil the knife was lodged and vaulted into a pocketed of him. He’d send it back to him magically drifting out of his palm and placing it against the thorax of The Betrayer putting him into a ending situation. Instead however of slashing or leading more bloodshed Captain as that wasn’t ever his aim, he pushed with every bit of his physical and animistic other portion of him as his runic forearm glowed around with engravings lending from his every core.

As Bellum was tossed by Feral Kuro towering over protruding in crimson lightly under his bottom lip and fall on his rump the crooked Warlord getting his payment back out of his conqueror none came close but this ghost standing before haunting him, he was beside himself,"Why'd ye blasted come back dammit!?" The gravity of loss was felt his muscles too weak to muscle or string up defenselessly.

With sorrow lineament in amber hues, "When you love something you know not even the currents cannot keep you apart. In my case, someone..." Right as Bellum's pupil's extended a love message sent in poetic fashion realizing this wasn't grudge for scorned pride but unspoken feelings that were mutual, like a gun shot he'd drum a booming chin kick to Bellum's slowly raising and weakened frame sliding up upside the wall he was pent against gathering right in position before a stained window all the pressure and force sent him shattering and splintering his back and mind rolling to faded black, the pop heard across the jaw in weighted heartfelt emotion.

Right before the unconscious and Bellum's lost defeated corpse sunk below in semblance of the same treatment the Captain endured when exiled and being beaten in his parley, calloused hands studiously latched to his opponent's ankles pulled back with a merciful save.

"All this that transpired was me confronting you; a past. I wasn't strong enough prior for either of our goals or ambitions, I faltered as th' Captain everyone deserved or saw that was needed and should've properly led. Well here's me reclaiming a rewrite by pages of one."

He'd cradle somberly in kinship, laying back and putting his former First Matey into his bed and heartily deliver a 'Last' smooch on the forehead in his restless state stained in their blood they went to war for the value in what was shared. Compassion unleashed in it's own potent strength now seen.

Battered, bruised from heads to toe, he still tasted that hinted of metallic blood in his mouth and limped outside against a Sunlight departing from the aftermath. It marked this was over and settled as was the pouring storm. Everything read in clear-skies. Taking in a breathe for his next destination to register, "How peculiar... I think I've the unique mood for some tea, think I heard some rumbling over yonder. That'll hold fer me." His head readjusting with the winds against his sun-kissed frame as his gaze held towards the direction of The Shroud’s that’s where his ‘Next’ was drawn.

                                                    🎵 End 🎵

[Previous]

[ryder-s-block]

Jaig Eyes (Ch 66)

Jaig Eyes (66/?)

Summary:

Kida, a former slave who now thrives as a bounty hunter, finds herself sucked into the war she advised Jango Fett against. Now that she’s involved, she has to finally mourn the loss of Jango, seeing his face in the clones that man the GAR. What happens when she allows herself to get attached to one, not for his resemblance to her former mentor, but for his heart?

————————-

Chapter Sixty-Six: Treason

I didn’t want to open my eyes. Because I knew the hands that caught me when I pitched towards the floor in our shared cell, my arms released by my guards.

“What the hell did he do to her?” I heard Jesse yell, as if through water. My mind was still swirling with grief and death. There was no response from my guards as the ray shield engaged again. 

“Kida?” It was Fives’ voice now. His fingers touched the side of my face gently. “Come on, kid. Wake up.”

I opened my eyes slowly, exhausted from the onslaught. It was less now… the fighting had stopped when I was in the tower. At the swell of grief from Rex...when it rippled through his brothers.

Tears burst from my eyes and I lunged forward to bury my face in Fives’ chest. He fell back a bit where he sat on the ground, the clone hesitating at my uncharacteristic behavior. I usually….kept it together around them. I held the facade of arrogance and capability. But I couldn’t do it. Not now.

Finally, Fives’ arms settled around my shaking frame, holding me to him. His cheek touched the top of my head, his jaw shifting my hair when he spoke. “What happened?” His voice was soft, but firm. He needed to know, but he was frightened by how I was acting.

I shook my head, still buried in his blacks. “Krell. I felt something...horrible. So many men dying--” my voice broke, the sound muffled by his shirt. 

“Dying?” Jesse repeated, crouching to sit beside us now, his hand touching my shoulder gently. “Who?”

I turned slightly, peering out over Fives’ bicep. “I don’t know. Not Rex. But he’s hurting. They’ve all done something….terrible.” The brothers glanced at each other with worry as I shifted, still needing the comfort of Fives’ body near mine. 

The ARC trooper shifted a bit, making me sit back for a second so he could look at me. He held me at arm’s length, his hazel gaze searching me for physical injury. “I know it’s hard,” he said when he determined me unharmed. “But you need to tell me everything.”

Each breath I took left my shoulders shuddering. But I nodded, trying to speak between the tears. “Krell. He sent our guys out, telling them that the Umbarans were wearing clone armor.” Fives and Jesse each held their breath, glancing anxiously at the other. “It was one of Kenobi’s units,” I sobbed, my hand coming up to cup my mouth as I said the words aloud. 

Fives stood abruptly, sending me sprawling until Jesse caught me in his arms. The ARC Trooper paced, pulsing with rage and grief. “They were killing each other,” he connected, his fists clenching at his sides. “Krell set them up like animals for slaughter!”

He punched the side of the cell angrily. I jumped in fright, earning a surprised look from Jesse. He slowly eased me against the wall before standing beside his brother, touching his shoulder. Fives shrugged him off.

Jesse turned back to me. “Can you still feel them? Our brothers?” Fives turned at that.

I breathed slowly, gently tapping at the barrier I’d hastily formed against the onslaught of death from the battlefield. I nodded mutely to the clones.

“How many?” Fives asked, his voice low.

I shook my head. “I can’t say. Enough.” Fives nodded, his jaw tight. I breathed in sharply, feeling a particular thought resonating from my link to Rex. I’d rarely ever heard his thoughts as words, but this was backed by fury and anguish, pushing into my mind like a blaster shot.

“Waxer.”

“It was Waxer’s battalion,” I whispered, tears flowing again with Rex’s emotions. I shook my head. “He’s gone. I don’t know for sure who’s alive other than Rex.”

“How do you know about Waxer?” Jesse asked.

I shook my head again. “Rex.”

“So you have some….special connection with him?” Fives asked, crouching before me. I felt like I was being examined, recoiling slightly. He saw my expression and rolled his eyes. “Come on, Kida. It’s not like Jesse and I don’t know.”

That was fair.

I shrugged. “I guess? I suppose I’ve felt his Force signature enough that it’s easy for me to find him.”

“Force signature? Is that what they call it now?” Fives’ brows were wiggling with comedy. He was trying to lighten the mood in any way he could.

I slapped his chest, earning a light chuckle. “Not what I meant, and you know it.” I chose to return to filling them in as I focused on Rex’s mind. My head fell back to rest against the wall while I reached out with the Force, surging over the battlefield to zero in on my captain. I brushed his thoughts like I was touching my hand to his face, earning a spark of recognition from Rex.

I smiled gently, despite the horrible situation. He felt my presence with him… It was endearing to know he recognized me now. And he didn’t recoil or build a wall this time. He sat back as he walked through the misty darkness, letting me rifle curiously through his memory.

Rex would flinch slightly when I touched the next painful memory. On those, I would only skim the surface enough to understand, but not enough to see it fully. I didn’t want to know, anyways.

I felt his relief at my safety, as he felt mine for his. And then I felt the anger that was bubbling to the surface. I touched his mind more firmly, cooling his temper just enough to tell him I loved him. He returned the sentiment.

And then, with a billow of determined anger that wasn’t directed at me, his mind urged me to prepare myself.

I snapped my eyes open, withdrawing from Rex’s mind in an instant. Fives’ face was close to mine, his gaze intense. “Well?” he asked.

“Rex realized they were shooting their own men and stopped it. There were already too many dead, though,” I glanced down at my hands, feeling the grief Rex had felt when he’d looked down at his in that moment. 

Fives moved away, running his hands through his hair endlessly. Jesse pinched his nose. “Rex won’t let Krell get away with this.”

“No, he won’t,” I answered. “And neither will we. They’re coming to get us out.” Fives and Jesse glanced at each other in confusion before looking back at me. “They’re angry,” I explained, glancing away, feeling it wash over me in waves, daring to drown me in my own darkness. “Very angry.”

Fives knelt again, his hazel eyes staring into my stormy ones. “And you can feel that?” My gaze cut to him with suspicion, but I nodded anyways. “Kida….can I ask you something?” I swallowed, but nodded again. “Was Krell exaggerating when he said you’re dangerous?”

I wanted to tell him that I absolutely was dangerous, because I was a renowned bounty hunter. But that wasn’t what he was talking about.

“You don’t have to be afraid, if that’s what you’re asking. I can control it.”

“But what if you didn’t?”

“Fives,” Jesse bit harshly, but his brother would have none of it, waving him away.

“Krell is a Jedi Master. And he has two double-bladed lightsabers. No offense, but you don’t stand a chance against him, even with your saber. But Rex told me about what happened on Vandor.” Fives shrugged his shoulders, looking a bit sheepish. “Maybe that could--”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said curtly, looking away.

He sighed through his nose, earning a small smack from Jesse. Fives gave him a look in return. “I’m right and you know it. I trust Kida, don’t you?”

Jesse’s mouth opened and closed in hesitance. “Of course I trust her…” The clone glanced at me with an apologetic gaze. “He has a point, Kida.”

“You guys don’t trust me to handle this how I am?” I asked. Still, they both frowned at me.

“Do you?” Fives returned. That was a fair point. I closed my eyes as he spoke, listening, but wishing he would stop talking. “If Rex is coming, we need you to be the most powerful ally you can be. It might be the only way we can take down Krell. You just have to…”

His voice faded between the sound of my breaths, my mind focusing on the thing he was asking me to do. It was dangerous ground. And terribly tempting. I’d pulled myself away from the Dark Side before….but could I do it again?

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

“It’s not like you to doubt yourself.”

My eyes snapped open at the voice, knowing in an instant that it wasn’t Fives or Jesse. I was no longer in the cell on Umbara. Rather, the walls were strikingly white, the windows contrasting with the dark storm outside. Before me, clad in his casuals the Kaminoans gave him, sat Jango Fett. He was shining his armor, the silver and blue beskar piled neatly on the white table.

I swallowed, finding myself sitting in my usual spot on the windowsill. “I’m not.”

“I don’t recall raising you to be a hu’tuun.” I flinched at the harsh insult, but Jango didn’t even look up from his work. When I didn’t respond, however, he stopped polishing and cut his eyes up to me sharply.

“You didn’t,” I replied quickly.

Jango pursed his lips while watching me before shifting to put down his armor and lean on his knees to look at me. “I know I didn’t. So what’s really holding you back?”

I sighed, glancing out at the storming sea of Kamino. How I missed it. Missed the tranquility of having a home with a family in it. “What if I don’t come back?”

“You’ve resisted the dark before,” he reasoned.

I rolled my eyes back to him. “That was different. I was guided out.”

“Why do you doubt yourself?”

“You’re not here,” I whispered. “You’re just a memory.”

Jango’s shoulder lifted slightly. “Your memory.” He didn’t deny it, as I knew he wasn’t coming to me through the Force. Yet...the Force was showing me this for a reason.

“Then why are you here? To tell me I should do this? That I should tap into the darkness within me….and lose control?”

“Who said anything about losing control?” Jango stood, crossing his arms in disappointment at me. “I taught you that control is a bounty hunter’s greatest asset. Have you forgotten this?”

“No,” I growled, “But how can I unleash this terrible darkness and not lose control?”

Jango smiled at me. “You were always a clever girl. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

“No,” I said again, looking out the window, “I don’t want to do this.” I jumped slightly, feeling Jango’s knuckles lift my chin to look at him again. His eyes were warm, his expression soft.

“I know you weren’t born a Mandalorian, but you’re my ad’ika. I raised you to have honor.” Jango smiled gently, grazing my cheek with the gentle touch of a loving parent. “Burc’ya vaal burk’yc, burc’ya veman.” I swallowed, my eyes tearing up again, but I nodded, leaning my head forward. Jango rested his forehead against mine gently, his voice soft. “You are stronger than you give yourself credit for. Believe in yourself, like I do.”

I nodded against him again, my eyes sliding closed. I felt his lips touch my forehead gently, before the feeling of him was gone entirely.

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

When I opened my eyes again, I was looking into Fives’ hazel gaze, rather than Jango’s. Fives was watching me intensely, as if waiting for an answer. When I said nothing, he sighed heavily. “Were you even listening to me?”

“No,” I admitted, feeling some of my grief already shift towards anger under the influence of the arriving clones. I got up, hearing the door above open and sensing Rex approaching. “But don’t worry. I was listening to someone else who convinced me.”

The clones blinked at me in confusion. “You what?” Jesse asked.

“Wait, wait,” Fives cut in, waving his hands, “Convinced you? So you’ll do it?”

I turned to the door as the elevator began to descend, the clones standing at my sides. “I’ll do what I can. But you need to promise me something,” I turned to them both, staring them in their eyes. “If I really lose control….and I mean being dangerous to you guys,” I bit my lip for a second. “You need to promise me that you’ll stop me from hurting any of you, no matter what that method is.”

“I’m not going to shoot you,” Jesse argued with a frown, but Fives silenced him with a hand to his shoulder.

Fives’ expression was serious. “You really want us to promise that? You want us to stop you, even if it means killing you?”

“Yes,” I answered immediately before swallowing, “Though I’d prefer if you stopped me without killing me.”

To my relief, they both chuckled as we all faced the door again, the elevator drawing near our level. “And I’d prefer if you take down Krell and then come back to us,” Jesse teased, nudging my side.

I didn’t smile as three pairs of boots came into view on the elevator. “Yeah,” I whispered, more to myself than the clones, “Me too.”

The elevator stopped, revealing Rex, Kix, and Tup in full armor. Rex said nothing as the ray shield disengaged, offering Jesse and Fives each a rifle. The clones glanced at each other before taking the weapons with grins. They stepped past me onto the elevator, Rex watching me through his visor.

I wanted to say something. Wanted to say I was here for him and that I was sorry. But now wasn’t the time to grieve. Now was the time to be angry. 

And I felt that resonating from him, so I nodded to my captain, touching his arm gently with as much reassurance as I could channel through the small contact. But I said nothing as I stepped past onto the elevator.

Kix engaged it immediately, our group rising past the Umbarans who were jeering at us from their cells. I stood in silence, closing my eyes slowly to reach out with the Force. The command center, where Krell still stood, was pulsating with the Dark Side. While it would be a great route to opening stronger powers, I hesitated to use it. That was all from Krell….I didn’t want his influence anywhere near my mind when I let my emotions take over.

“We have your gear ready for you,” Rex announced as we rose through the brig.

“What about Kida’s lightsaber?” Fives asked, earning a glance from all but me. They were wondering why he asked, rather than me. 

“Krell still has it,” I responded for the others, my eyes still closed.

Jesse sighed through his nose. “We’ll have to figure out how to get that back to you.”

“Kida,” Rex said hesitantly, “You can’t hope to fight him in a lightsaber battle. You couldn’t win.” He meant it as a realist, and never meant to insult me. I didn’t really take it as an insult either; it was damn true.

“She’ll be fine,” Fives assured the captain, “Right, Kida?”

I still didn’t open my eyes, but I could feel the worried glances from the clones who had yet to know the plan. “What am I missing here?” Kix asked. Everyone looked to Fives, but I felt Rex’s gaze on me still.

I ignored him, instead reaching out to all the horrible emotions his brothers were feeling. The darkness of death. Loss. Fear. Anger. Hate. Vengeance. I let it feed into me, let my hatred for the Jedi flow. I recalled all the times he’d insulted me. Called me names. Belittled me in front of others. How he tried to have me killed. How he betrayed the Republic and the Order he claimed to fight for. How he murdered my new family with wild abandon. 

“Kida took on Dooku once. She can do this,” Fives reasoned.

Rex’s mind spiked with fear immediately. My heart ached. “Dooku was different. That was...before. Right?”

This was asked to me. Finally, I opened my eyes as the elevator came to a stop, the doors hissing open to reveal our gear waiting. Still, I didn’t respond as we exited the elevator and began putting our armor back on.

“Sure,” Fives said finally when I didn’t speak. “But she can do that again.”

Rex grabbed his brother by the arm, stopping him in the middle of gearing up. “Do you realize what you’re asking her to do? The place you’re asking her to go?”

It occurred to me in that moment that Rex’s fear had nothing to do with his own safety, or even that of his brothers. He...trusted me with that. His fear was for me. For the toll doing those things and going to those dark places took on me.

I smiled gently, stopping in the middle of strapping on my beskar. “Rex,” I said finally, my voice softer than I expected it to be, considering the darkness building within me. “I agreed to this. We need to stop Krell. I can do this.” I glanced at Jesse and Fives, giving them a significant look. They both seemed to get the point: Rex wasn’t to know about our little deal.

It would bother him too much. And I didn’t want him worrying about me while he should be trying to keep himself from being chopped in half by one of Krell’s blades.

Rex swallowed, but nodded, saying nothing more. I felt his distress, reaching out with my mind to smooth over his worries gently. His mind reacted immediately to my touch, his thoughts practically embracing mine. It was like he was trying to bury me into his brain, so he would never have to let me go.

I snapped the last piece of beskar into place, feeling whole again as I holstered my pistols. Well, as whole as I could without my lightsaber. It felt good to put my armor back on, but I didn’t feel like I’d earned it.

Not yet, at least.

I withdrew my mind from his, Rex grasping at the tendrils desperately. I couldn’t see his face, but I knew the fear that was expressed there. He was afraid for me. Afraid I’d get hurt.

I ignored him, completely blocking him from my mind. Severing our link...even if temporarily...made me feel empty. Alone.

It was enough for my Force signature to darken significantly. It must have shown in the cloudiness of my face, because all the clones glanced at me as we walked to the base of the command tower to meet the others. There were men in 212th gold, too. Waxer’s men.

I gave them all a nod in greeting as we entered the tower, the elevator lifting us towards the traitorous general. I was thankful in that moment that Rex wasn’t Force sensitive. His mind was screaming at mine even without it.

Also….he’d have been able to feel my fear begin to shift towards confidence.

As the elevator rose, I closed my eyes one last time, breathing deeply. In that breath, I sucked in all of the anger rippling from the clones. I felt their loss and grief. Swam in their lust for vengeance. 

And as I sucked it all in, the darkness in me rose to a powerful storm. I kept it contained, though. I would keep control. I could do this.

The doors hissed open, revealing Krell in his usual stance on the observation deck, his back to us. The clones poured out, surrounding the general with guns drawn. I followed Fives and Jesse, my pistols aimed at the Jedi.

“General Krell,” Rex announced as he entered behind us, “You’re being relieved of duty.”

The Jedi turned slowly, all of his hands folded calmly behind his back. His yellow eyes danced over us all with a sinister glimmer. “It’s treason, then.”

Rex drew his pistols immediately, sinking into a ready stance. “Surrender, General.” His words were calm, but both Krell and I could feel his fear.

“You’re committing mutiny, Captain,” the Jedi informed him, striding forward easily.

“Not a step further,” I growled, shifting myself closer to Rex, my pistols aimed at Krell’s forehead. The Jedi stopped, giving me a scowl, but ignored me otherwise.

“Explain your actions,” Rex demanded beside me. Behind Krell, our clones shifted into the place he’d just left, surrounding him completely.

“My actions?” the Jedi asked mockingly. I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t sure why we were even doing this. It wasn’t like we expected Krell to surrender. 

Rex’s anger flared. “For ordering your troops against one another.”

“Oh, that,” Krell chuckled, touching his chin as if he’d completely forgotten the event. “I’m surprised you were able to figure it out….for a clone.” The darkness in me flared at his comment, earning a look when he sensed it. “Oh, you’ve brought the Sithling along. What fun.”

Fives motioned to his brothers, the clones stepping past me to close in on Krell. The ARC trooper brushed past my shoulder gently, urging me to hold back. For now, at least.

“Surrender, General,” Rex commanded from beside me. “You’re outnumbered.”

I sensed the Force moving around Krell before he moved. On impulse, I dropped my pistols to cross my arms over my face. Krell shoved outwards with the Force, sending all of the clone careening backwards. With the Force bracing me, I stayed upright, thrusting my hand forward. My lightsaber detached from Krell’s belt in an instant, flying in the air towards my palm.

And then it stopped.

One of Krell’s hands was stretched out after the lightsaber I’d stolen, doing everything he could to take it back. Raw power blew past me, threatening to throw me backwards as I struggled to maintain a grip on my saber through the Force. The beskar hilt flitted back and forth in the air, being yanked like a helpless child caught in the middle of a dispute. 

Krell was too powerful. I couldn’t gain control of my saber, even with the kyber being bonded with me. I glared at Krell, channeling my anger. Still, I didn’t lose control. I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t. I--

Shots went off, Krell releasing my lightsaber to draw his own. He deflected the fire coming from the clones, who had all found their feet again.

However...Letting go of the saber meant that both it and me went flying backwards. I toppled into Fives, knocking us both back to the ground. “Alright?” he asked, helping me back to my feet. I nodded mutely, silent in my anger. I scooped up my fallen lightsaber, eyeing the Besalisk that was a whirling ball of lasers, deflecting any shot that came near him.

And then he began slicing through clones, tired of this game. “How dare you attack a Jedi!”

My white blade ignited at my side in an instant. I leapt forward, slamming my lightsaber into Krell’s just in time to spare a clone’s life. His yellow eyes met mine over the smarting of our blades.

“Sithling,” he growled, “You are no match for a Jedi Master!”

I screamed, shifting my blade sideways to detach myself from our lock. I spun away as the remaining clones did their best to help. Still, every time I detached from Krell, more clones died.

But we weren’t getting anywhere with fighting either.

I tried one last, desperate time. Lunging forward, I went for a quicker attack. Taking from Ahsoka’s book, I relied on my speed around Krell, snapping my blade against his in quick succession. He was far stronger than me, after all. 

Still, it was no use. I tired quickly against him, even with the help of the clones. And I was unfocused. Even he could feel that. Despite the confidence I’d felt in the elevator, Krell’s presence had all but extinguished it. His Force signature resonated deeply with power and darkness.

How could I match that….without losing control?

Krell took advantage of my wandering thoughts, locking my lightsaber between his blade and striking me across the face with his free hand. I careened sideways, my lightsaber being wrenched from my grasp.

The Jedi growled in front of us as I laid at Rex’s feet in a pile. Another clone flew over our heads, slamming against the door, his armor smarting with the touch of the lightsaber. “I will not be undermined by creatures bred in some laboratory!” 

He was looking straight at Rex, his expression filled with rage. The Dark Side moved around him….a man ready to kill more than he already had. It was like slow motion. As Krell shifted to leap forward, his sabers lifted to strike down my captain, I felt something in me break.

“Burc’ya vaal burk’yc, burc’ya veman,” I heard in my mind. It was true. I couldn’t defeat Krell without losing control. I was afraid to do that, because I could hurt Rex or the other clones I loved.

But what good was me keeping control if they died anyways?

So the floodgates opened, that hidden part of me, that I had put to sleep long ago, awakening with a vengeance. It writhed with pleasure at the pure power that coursed through me. It was familiar and strikingly warm. Hot, even.

Dangerous.

I screamed as I pushed out with my hands, the Force rushing from me like a tidal wave. It caught Krell in mid-air as he tried to strike down my captain, throwing him across the room and through the observation window.

We all breathed for a moment in the silence, listening to the glass still clattering to the floor. Below, more gunfire erupted; Krell had found more clones to terrorize. We all ran to the window quickly, peering down to see the Jedi slicing through entire squads of clones.

“Come on,” Fives commanded, turning to lead the others to the elevator. They stopped, turning to look at me at the door.

“Kida,” Rex said hesitantly. I felt his fear. I could feel that I looked different. Through his mind’s eye, I saw the woman standing before him amidst the broken window. I didn’t recognize her. 

While the painted beskar was familiar, the woman stood tall with something more than confidence….power. Her usually pale gray eyes were dark and glinting with anger. She looked at Rex, strands of her dirty hair slipping from her ponytail to hang limply around her shadowed face. She reached out with an air of carelessness, the lightsaber on the ground flashing up to her hand in an instant.

I withdrew from Rex’s mind when I felt the beskar hilt hit my palm, frightened by the version of myself that I saw. Still, there was something about it that felt….good. Without my permission, I felt my lips curl into a cruel smile. Every cell in my body wanted to split Krell in half. And I had every intention of doing so. Each death of a clone below spurred me more as I took another step towards the shattered window.

“Kida, what are you doing?” Rex asked again, his hand holding the elevator door open.

I glanced over my shoulder, knowing that dark circles were beginning to form under my eyes. If it was from exhaustion, the Dark Side, or both, I couldn’t be sure. “Go,” was all I said before I tipped forward and out of the window with reckless abandon, driven by the dark power coursing through me.

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

MANDO’A

Hu’tuun-- coward

Ad’ika-- daughter/son/little one

Burc’ya vaal burk’yc, burc’ya veman--- a friend during danger is a true friend

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

Author’s Note:

It feels very fitting that this chapter is named “Treason” and it’s chapter 66. (‘It’s treason, then’). Still hurts, especially after the conclusion of the series!

Thank you for the continued support! I’m so glad to see that people are finding some joy in this fic during quarantine. I know it’s keeping me sane to write it hahaha!

As always, reviews/reposts/shares/likes are always appreciated and encouraged!

May the Force be with you,

Ryder

[circuscarnage]

A Prince By All Means.

Guess who was in a writing mood. Yay, it’s me. Feeling down because I hadn’t had motivation recently, but then I remembered the prince uniforms and the conversation about the prince cafe, and here we are. So if you’re feeling bored in lock down, why not read a crack fic about the prince cafe, featuring Nathaniel and Sarge by @prometheanglory ?

Sorry Vy for dragging this concept through the mud.

Words: 2438.

When Nathaniel was called to the headmasters office earlier that day, he had prepared himself to be reprimanded for the latest poison incident. Some poor Pomefiore soul had mistakenly taken a bite out of the fresh batch of candy apples, and paid a horrible price. All things considered, he had purchased a new poison and wanted to test it out, at least he knew it was worth the price. The last thing he expected was to be greeted with an frantic Crowley and a passive Sarge. As soon as he entered the room the attention was brought to him. Sarge smiled and waved as Crowley haphazardly shoved the spare papers into his desk before ushering the boy over. 

Here he told them about his idea. After the last overblotting incident, the school needed some funding for refurbishments. Of course, the headmaster couldn't reach out the the federal board for help. Even though their funding would be a great help, if they found out just how many students had fallen into overblot, the Night Raven Reputation would be ruined. Crowley had to take matters into his own hands, and what better way than a charity fundraiser? However, this particular fundraiser was somewhat unorthodox. Instead of doing something like a bake sale, or a book fare, it was a host club.

"We have students catering to different types of individuals, so there is something there for everyone." Crowley explained. "All you need to do is sit down with them, talk to them, and ensure they have an enjoyable time." He turned to look at the white haired bot first.

"Sarge, I am aware that you have gained quite the following since coming to Night Raven. I believe they are on their way to forming some sort of religion, calling themselves a church. And Nathaniel, many would welcome the chance to be hosted by royalty. It would surely be a wonderfully opportunity for students." He then explained the event in further detail, saying he would pair the two up, putting them together in a 'sweet and sour' package. Nathaniel was highly against the idea. He already had to deal with Sarge enough in their dorm, now he was expected to be a package deal with him? No way. "I will not lower myself to be lumped together with such an immoral, licentious-

"I think it's a great idea." Sarge briskly cut in, covering Nathaniel's mouth with one hand, rendering his onslaught of insults useless. "After all, plenty of students have been distressed over the incidents, I think they need something to relax their nerves." He removed his hand from the others face and rested it on his chin, as if trying to remember something. "I should know. Many have come to me seeking sanctuary. And I always provide."

Nathaniel grimaced, remembering the amount of students he had to forcibly remove from their room. Sarge would always tease him about it after, saying if he wanted to be alone with him, he could have just asked. That always earned him a swift punch to the face, as well as Nathaniel storming out of the room shortly after. He had requested several times to switch rooms, but students were unwilling to put up with either of them. He had also expressed his disgust for his roommate in written form, which he would send to his mother, but she has yet to respond.

"Fantastic!" Crowley brightly stated. He walked back over to his desk and began to scribble down some notes on paper. "The event starts at two pm, in the grand hall. You'll have to come a little early to get changed into the uniforms. You'll enter once all of the other guests have been seated. Of course, you need to know that there will also be people from outside to enjoy the events so I expect the both of you to be on your best behaviour-"

Before Crowley could finish his sentence, a hand slammed down on the table before him. Seething away whilst listening to Crowley's exposition, was a disgruntled prince who only got more agitated by the second. He glared down the headmaster with burning eyes, singeing a hole into the older mans subconscious. He had never said he would agree to take part in this event. The old crow was getting far too ahead of himself, and he had to put a stop to these assumptions. 

"Bold of you to assume I would ever partake in such a ludicrous event. You insult me, Crowley." The Headmaster was taken aback by this sudden outburst. He didn't think a simple idea would trigger such a negative reaction. Even Sarge was impressed at how forcible Nathaniel was being, especially towards the headmaster. Nathaniel however, was far from impressed. Irritation radiated off him like a burning stove. "Humour me. Give me one good reason why I should include myself in this charade?"

"I thought you might be hesitant." The way the Headmaster spoke caught both boys off guard. There was a certain edge to his voice that sounded like it was rehearsed, as if he knew one of them was going to disagree. Without further ado, a heavy stack of papers were dropped onto the desk, creating a loud thud that echoed throughout the room. "If you do this, I am willing to overlook all previous incidents involving your cooking. Since I am so kind."

The white haired boy glanced over the stacks of paper. The incidents ranged in intensity, going from minor inconveniences to lethal. It was amazing how he hadn't been kicked out of school yet. Sarge recalled all the times Nathaniel tried to poison him, remembering how outraged he was to find that Sarge was seemingly immune. After that, his attempts increased, silently hoping that a stronger dose would do the trick. However, Sarge would always eat the treat eagerly, even going as far as giving him tips on how to improve. No matter how hard he tried, Sarge was not one to be dropping dead so easily. Letting out a heavy sigh, Sarge leaned again the table and addressed his fellow classmate, hoping to press a few buttons. "You've been doing this all behind my back? And here I thought I was special." 

Nathaniel sent sarge a harsh look, which he returned with a wink. Trying to ignore the sparkling pest, Nathaniel returned to the matter at hand. Blackmail? What the hell was the old crow thinking? Using these innocent actions of poisoning against him as emotional leverage? He had to admit, that was a good tactic. This old bird was smarter than what he gave credit for. After carefully weighting his options, Nathaniel silently cursed the heavens before removing his hand, and reluctantly agreeing.

"This is stupid."

Nathaniel looked over himself one more time in the mirror, sneering at the reflection that greeted him. He was dressed head to toe in an extravagant outfit befitting of a prince. A black uniform accentuated by silver trim, an exact replica of royalty. The outfit itself wasn't what irked him. It was the premise. Being presented to a large group of people and expecting to entertain them one by one like a fool. Things like that are suited for a lowly peasant, some poor smuck that could be picked off the streets, not for someone of his calibre. To think that someone oh his bloodline had been reduced to a common entertainer. If his mother found out she would... No. She wouldn't do anything. Too enamoured with her husband to notice anything her son did. He curled a dark lock of hair around his finger. When was the last time he had it down? Without the silver crown, it felt almost wrong to stare at his reflection. Whilst Nathaniel was busy sulking in his changing room, Sarge was waiting outside, already pampered and prepared. 

Even though he did enjoy the uniform, and agreed that it would bring in some money, he couldn't help but think that a maid cafe would benefit the school more. If he suggested the idea to his companion, he would surely be dismantled. Speaking of, he had been spending an awfully long time in that room. Was he having trouble with his costume or was he just too shy? Sarge chuckled to himself. It would reflected badly on him if he did not assist a fellow student in need. He knocked gently on the door before calling out "You can't hide in there forever you know," The ever present playfulness to his voice was coated in a threatening sweet tone. "If you don't come out, I'm going to have to come in." Before Sarge has the chance to touch the door handle, it was quickly pulled away from him. 

Nathaniel grimaced as he looked his companion up and down. He worse the exact same uniform as him, the only difference being the colour. When Crowley said they were a package deal, he meant it. The thought of him being able to distance himself from Sarge once the event started quickly dissipated into thin air, leaving behind a trail of dread that would forever haunt him. He hated to admit it, but Sarge certainly did look the part. His usual princely aura was only amplified by the outfit, making him seem like something from a dream. He sparkled more than he usually did, making Nathaniel squint his eyes. "You look like you belong to Royal Sword." Nathaniel said airily as he adjusted his cuff links, trying not to pay attention to the glistening display before him. 

Sarge smiled, letting out a delighted sigh whilst placing a gloved hand over his heart. "My, Nathaniel, I didn't know you could be so kind." The dark haired boy sneered in disgust. "That wasn't a compliment." The two boys made their way towards the grand hall, where they were greeted by Crowley waiting outside. "The other hosts are already inside, your fist table is the one on the far left." With one hand firmly on the door handle, he addressed the boys one last time, giving them a fair warning. "And remember, you're setting an example for all of Night Raven. Be respectable." He cast a glance at both boys, not sure who that would apply to the most. 

In one swift motion, the doors opened, revealing a vast array of fancy furniture covered in anticipated guests. As if on cue, hundreds of heads turned in unison to greet the two princes. Hungry eyes glossed over them, taking in their presence like lives depended on it. A familiar unease started to creep up Nathaniel's spine. Being placed on a pedestal like this wasn't something he particularly enjoyed. "You get used to it." Sarge remarked, holding a steady smile on his face. Sarge had been praised and adored almost his entire life, having a few hundred eyes on him was nothing compared to what he endured. To him, this distant attention was bliss. Nathaniel wasn't completely ignorant to the attention either. At the balls his mother hosted, where she would show off her husband like the ornament he is, Nathaniel wasn't excluded from the piercing eyes of their guests. "I know." 

The first guest was already seated on a crisp white chaise lounge chair, located at the far end of the room. A small petite girl with mouse like features. Nothing particularly interesting about her, apart from the fact that she seemed to have been waiting for a while. Every now and again she would twiddle her fingers, silently counting the seconds as they went by. By the way her eyes lit up once she caught a glimpse of Sarge, she must have been one of his followers.

Luckily for Nathaniel, Sarge almost immediately took the lead, greeting the girl in a formal fashion before sitting himself down beside her. He took one of her frail hands in his, placing a gentle kiss atop her smooth skin. His voice was heavens bells to her ears as he spoke, enticing her in with honey coated promises soft as rose petals. Nathaniel cringed, taking a seat for himself. He had watched Sarge play the same routine many times, and it never failed to irk him greatly. 

He watched on as Sarge continued to charm the guest with ease. Within seconds they were completely playing into the fantasy, going along with whatever he said. It was strange to watch. Sarge continuously stringing along the unsuspecting victims with his silk smoothed words until they were nothing but a fly in his web of lies. Under his spell, trapped in her own garden of Eden.  

Nathaniel frowned. If he didn't even attempt to make an effort, Crowley wouldn't hold up his end of the bargain either. It hurt his pride to reduce his attitude down to that of a common entertainer, but for the sake of his personal record, he had to comply. Surely, this wouldn't be a hard task. He was already plenty handsome, and his status was that of something people would die for. Ideally, if he put a little effort in, girls would be swooning at his presence. The only problem was how.

What was he supposed to do, tell her she looked pretty? Well, apart from that being a flat out lie, he would hate to give her false hope. Lord forbid someone like her gains any ounce of self confidence. But he stilled needed to give her some sort of compliment. He looked over at Sarge again. The girl was now leaning into his touch, his hand gently cupped her rose-tinted cheek, whispering sweet nothings to her as if no one else was around. Disgusting. Okay, Nathaniel. Be nice. Just try to be nice.

"You look less like a dishevelled wreck today."

Nailed it.

The guest swiftly turned around, completely forgetting that there was another prince beside her. Sarge covered his mouth as he let out a small chuckle, amused by his friends antics. He had to admit, it was a vast improvement from what Nathaniel would usually say, and it was incredibly entertaining watching him try. Nathaniel started to feel dread creep up his spine once he noticed her eyes growing wider, suddenly being filled with eager anticipation. She let out a bright smile before clapping her hands together in giddy excitement. "That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me!"

"Don't expect it to happen again." Nathaniel quickly remarked, putting a halt to any thoughts she might have about him changing his attitude. He slumped back in his chair and crossed his arms. This was going to be a long day.