#we are rolling up to whole ass trials/shows/tests

[tea-time-terrier]

My strongest dog trialing belief (besides that it should be done kindly and fairly) is that more often than not it's a Training issue not a Distraction issue <3

[baconpal]

pokemon rant time

this one’s about the 2 new things, and is at least slightly intended for people actually excited/interested in them, click keep reading or perish

Gonna try and keep stuff short cus there's a lot of topics this time and I've already gone off about how pokemon Isn't meant for me or meant to be a good video game anymore, but gamefreak is right back on their bullshit, so I feel I need to at least point it out.

I'd like to preface all this with, if you are a fan of pokemon still, please realize you can ask for more out of this series. Expect perfection, even if you don't think you'll get it anytime soon. Pokemon won't go anywhere, the old games won't go anywhere, and gaming is a hobby, not a necessity; don't accept low quality products from a company just because you feel like you're supposed to.

With this next wave of pokemon games, gamefreak is clearly testing how little they can put in to a $60 game while still keeping the 2 major audiences they've cultivated. By responding to the most obvious and vocal complaints from the community, gamefreak is aiming to make games that seems like what most players want, without having to put in the work on quality products.

GEN 4 REMAKES Pokemon BS (I am not calling this shit BDSP) is intended for the audience that put up with let's go and RS remakes. The most vocal and obvious complaints for these games is their failure as definitive versions of the games they are remakes of, such as missing features/content, or drastically changed story/dialogue/style. In a way, the recent remakes are inferior versions of incredibly old games, which shows a lack of improvement in pokemon as a whole.

To address these issues, BS is very, very, VERY clearly aiming for a more 1-to-1 recreation of the DS games, but with fully 3d graphics. Clearly the map layout has been transferred exactly, and gen 4 already had mostly 3d environments to begin with, and everyone knows about the future-proof pokemon models at this point, so the amount of effort required to create something like this is absolutely minimal. Assuming dialogue, trainer teams, move lists, etc. are also lifted directly from DP, then this game could be developed in basically no time at all, leaving the team time to ensure the product is of decent quality and includes ALL of the content of the originals, if not more, like the earlier pokemon remakes did to ensure they were truly definitive versions of the games. That being said, it is unlikely the team behind BS has been making use of this saved time to improve the game.

One failing already clear is that the quality is not very good, at least graphical quality. The footage we have shows environments lacking in color compared to the original, with messy, unpleasant textures that contrast poorly with the simplistic environments. The characters especially do not work. As cute and fun the fanart of tiny dawn has been, BS dawn and all other characters look awful. They have gorilla arms that reach down to the floor and lifeless faces, as well as incredibly stiff/simplistic animations. As it stands, BS is a visually inferior game to DP, though most consumers will simply see it as 3D>2D without any understanding of what an artstyle is, so this might not be a problem for many, but that doesn't mean you should accept it.

What remains to be seen is what content will be added/missing from pokemon BS. It is very possible that massive parts of the game, such as the underground, variety of online modes, postgame areas, and content from platinum could be missing entirely. We also do not know if pokemon from after gen 4 will be worked into the region, or even supported. Gen 8 still currently does not support a large number of pokemon, and the remakes may continue this limited dex trend.

Even assuming the remake includes everything from the DS games and doesn't add anything that slows down the story or harms the experience, it will still only be an exercise in forced obsolescence. The main reason people can't really play DP still is that the online isn't supported anymore. If BS turns out to be exactly the same as DP, then you're buying the same game for at a higher price, only to play it until the online service goes away again, or the next game comes out, if both don't happen at the same time.

Don't let yourself buy a 13 year old game at twice the original price.

GEN 4 NOT-REMAKE KIND OF NEW THING On to legends now, gamefreak is targeting the people who put up with sun/moon and sword/shield. The obvious problem with those games to most people was simply a lack of change from the standard pokemon formula. Even when changing the gyms to trials or stadiums, most people still understand that the format and story structures are mostly unchanged. Of course, this problem has seemingly been addressed by changing the game structure a fair bit, but almost entirely by removal.

Trainer battles, and by extension, gyms and tournaments/elite 4 have been confirmed to be absent, meaning all battles are only vs single pokemon, in spite of the player likely having a team of 6 pokemon. Even if battle difficulty is increased to compensate (doubtful), this will still drastically increase the simplicity of combat and make it even less likely for the game to include any meaningful challenge. Exploring towns and meeting NPCs is also seemingly missing, as the game is confirmed to have only a single village, which frankly looks incredibly boring and we've yet to see a single NPC inhabiting the village.

Battles now use an ATB format instead of a turn-based format (for those of you who don't know what that means, it basically means nothing, it's still turn based, it just means the speed state determines who gets more turns instead of who goes first, that's it), but beyond that there seems to be no noteworthy changes, pokemon learn 4 moves with limited PP, type advantage will still definitely be the most important aspect to battle, and the player being able to walk around during battle provides no meaningful impact. While the little dash the pokemon do to approach each other is cool, it is already a sign that gamefreak will not be addressing the issue of lacking animations for pokemon battles, as they can't even be assed to animate and program pokemon walking around the environment during combat, and lucario doing 1 kick for a move described as a series of punches isn't a great sign either.

On the topic of lacking animations, the new "pet simulator feature" for legends seems to be an advancement on the ride system from sun/moon, which presumably people missed from sword/shield. Being able to ride on your pokemon to do stuff sounds cool, but in all likelihood, this system will be limited to only a select few pokemon who will each do a select few actions, and is not a reasonable replacement for all the other pet raising features that have been removed in the past. Similar to BS, the total number of pokemon included may also be limited arbitrarily, in spite of the fact that no new pokemon need to be added, as these games are not claiming to be a new generation.

The largest issues I personally have with this new game is the horrible technical quality and gameplay quality shown in the initial trailer. Unfortunately, these types of problems seem to be difficult to explain to the average consumer, even though the issues seem incredibly obvious and inexcusable to people like me.  Most people were able to understand the problem with the berry trees in gen 8, because it was easy to explain, "this tree doesn't look like the other trees, and it sticks out, isn't that weird?", and so gamefreak has eliminated any immediately obvious issues like that, sticking with a very consistent artstyle for legends, making it almost impossible to easily explain its faults to the average pokemon fan.

People have been really quick to compare legends to BoTW; the game that invented grass, trees, and mountains. In spite of these comparisons, nobody seems to point out that legends looks dramatically worse than that almost 5 year old game from the previous generation. Plants are stiff and lacking in energy, draw distances are poor, colors are drab, and textures are messy. Many parts of legends seems to ape BoTW on just the surface, essentially just following market trends. Even the controls seem to follow after modern 3rd person shooters/stealth games, including a seemingly pointless roll and a clunky looking ball lobbing arc that feels unfun before even getting to play it myself.

The largest issue, painfully obvious to some, and impossible to explain to others, is the framerate. The trailer clearly was ran on actual switch hardware, and not prerendered, which would be a good mark for gamefreak if it didn't result in a trailer that never once hit 30fps. Even with empty fields, with only 1 or 2 characters on screen, the game was incapable of meeting the target speed, and had to resort to optimizations like reducing the frame rate of pokemon only inches away from the player to stop-motion levels of choppy. If situations with almost nothing going on result in slow-down, how will the game perform during actual gameplay? Even though slow-down is something everyone can feel, many people aren't capable of identifying it.

The major things to wait and see for legends is if the removed aspects of the series are made up for by some additional systems or content, and definitely wait to see if the performance improves. As with BS, preordering a game like this only shows that gamefreak only has to market the game by saying it's different, not improved, like they've been doing for years now.

TL;DR FUCK GAMEFREAK One major thing of note is that gamefreak is releasing 2 games based on gen 4 at the nearly the same time, meaning they have no obligation to design new pokemon or even include pokemon not from sinnoh, and also that the sales of each game can be used as an indicator for which of their 2 audiences is more loyal to them. Both BS and Legends are in a position to be pushes aside if they fail, but if either succeeds, gamefreak can continue in the direction of the more successful game and reap the benefits, without any need to innovate, improve, or adapt to criticism.

The last thing I feel I have to remind people about is that gamefreak is a company; you don't need to be "grateful" to them. I've seen that word thrown around far too much by people who seem to buy pokemon games like its a tax, and not something they want to do. You don't have to suck up to a company that made games you liked as a kid if the games aren't what you want anymore. Pokemon is so wildly successful that it can't possible die, so don't buy the games out of pity, or out of some feeling of obligation. Buy the video games you want to play and nothing more.

Basically, if you are considering getting any of these new games, please wait until the games are out before purchasing them, and decide for yourself if they are worth your money, and more importantly, your time. Preordering these games only lets gamefreak know their audience will buy and put up with anything. They have no real competition at the moment, so the only thing the audience can do to encourage improvement is show some of restraint.

[doc-pickles]

i won’t hesitate (for you) ch. 9

Jo is happy, at least she feels like she is. When someone from her past shows up, will her and her daughter’s world ever go back to normal? Or will things change for good?

Me? Updating? It's more likely than you think apparently. I struggled, s t r u g g l e d. through this chapter but I think the rest will come a bit easier. S/O to Ren for proofing the first half of this and to Nat for demanding the second half hahaha. Also I know that the plot for this whole child support thing is totally out of left field, but I'm going with the Grey's motto of "enough logic to be believable but probably not real world" so there's that. Anyways enjoy! PS: In the interest of me not sending myself to an early grave, there's no flashback in the beginning of this chapter!

+

“Can’t believe we have to go to court, this is a waste of my time and my good suit,” Alex grumbled as he tightened this tie. “I had to pull it out of the boxes and then get it dry cleaned, I should freaking bill her for this.”

“This’ll be over with in a few days and we can go back to our normal lives, well as normal as living in a loft overrun with cardboard boxes is,” Jo exited the bathroom and navigated around a stack of boxes before finally making it over to Alex, moving his hands and helping with his tie. “You look so handsome, if we didn’t have somewhere to be I would drag you back to bed.”

“Well our bed isn’t even here for you to drag me to,” Alex moved his lips to kiss along Jo’s neck, a soft giggle coming from her as he did so. “Movers are coming in 45 minutes and we have to be out the door in 15.”

“That’s enough time for a quickie in the bathroom,” Jo’s proposition caused Alex to pull back and look her up and down with an amused expression. “What? I’m seriously horny all the time and you look good in a suit. I can’t help all the hormones running through my body. In fact! It’s your fault for getting me pregnant!”

Alex rolled his eyes, pressing one last kiss to Jo’s lips before pulling back from her.

“If I remember correctly, there were two of us in that elevator,” grabbing his keys and coat, Alex held his hand out for Jo to grab. “And I wasn’t the one gasping and moaning and practically begging the whole time.”

“If you keep using verbs like that you’re gonna make us late,” Jo swatted at Alex’s ass before grabbing his outstretched hand, following him out of the loft.

As they locked the doors and headed downstairs, Alex let his hands fall to Jo’s growing bump, showcased by her form fitting black dress. At almost 18 weeks pregnant now, Jo couldn’t attempt to hide her bump anymore. She’d been nervous that her pregnancy would impact the court case one way or another, but Alex had reassured her that he just wanted her there with him, consequence be damned. Things had moved quickly though, and in the end, Jo had been called to testify as a character witness so her protests didn’t matter.

The speed of the case making it to court probably had something to do with the fact that Izzie hadn’t bothered to fly back home to file a claim, instead calling the first paternity lawyer she could find on google and starting up the legal process in Washington. While it was a minor relief that Alex wouldn’t have to split time between Seattle and Kansas, both he and Jo were worried about how seriously Izzie had taken things.

Getting into the car and pulling on her seatbelt, Jo begins to ramble nervously. “How’s this going to work? I mean… they’re not yours, right? How is Izzie even allowed to do this?”

A loud groan left Alex as he settled into the driver's seat of his car. He’d wondered the same thing, but he knew that him signing all those papers when he moved to Kansas three years ago had definitely helped Izzie’s case. Even back then, he’d thought in the back of his mind that he should have asked more questions, demanded a paternity test, but he hadn’t. All he could focus on were these two perfect children standing in front of him, children that he now knew weren’t even his. Alex’s blood began to boil with anger at the thought of Izzie lying to him for so long, but he let out a deep breath and began to drive towards the courthouse instead.

“I don’t know, but I saw those blood test results myself and there’s no damn way those kids are mine,” Jo’s fingers rubbed against Alex’s arm, calming him slightly. He looked to her briefly before speaking again. “I’m sorry you had to get dragged into this, I wish I could protect you from it all.”

He could feel Jo’s gaze on him as his eyes stayed on the road. Alex could almost hear her thinking of how much she wanted to make Izzie pay for what she’d done to him. He was almost certain that pregnant or not, she’d fight Izzie if she came at her again. As if reading his mind Jo let out a chuckle and squeezed his arm reassuringly.

“I’m a big girl, I can stand up to bullies on the playground,” Jo squeezed Alex’s arm once more before bringing her hand to rest on her growing bump. “Let’s just get through today, this isn’t going to go longer than a day once they figure out you’re not those kids dad.”

But it did end up lasting longer… Once they got to the courthouse, Alex realized with a sense of horror that Izzie wasn’t messing around. She had two lawyers and was wearing a dress that looked like it cost more than his paycheck. And she wasn’t holding back anything, her lawyers showed that loud and clear.

“My client went through multiple rounds of chemotherapy, there’s no possible way that she could conceive without the help of artificial insemination and the sample that Doctor Karev provided,” Izzie’s lawyer was a short, pudgy man whose voice echoed through the courtroom unforgivingly. “We’re asking for Doctor Karev to back pay child support for the three years he knew about and took parental responsibility for both children as well as therapy for the children in the wake of his sudden departure.”

“Your Honor, these claims are absurd! Doctors Karev and Stevens performed a blood test that showed that one of the children has a genetic disorder that neither of them have, meaning that if Doctor Stevens did indeed give birth to both children, that Doctor Karev could not be their biological father,” Alex’s lawyer fought back, eyeing Izzie and her lawyers as she spoke. “All we’re asking for is Doctor Karev to be released of all parental responsibility for both children and for Doctor Stevens to repay him the legal fees for these proceedings, as well as cover any other expenses he’s incurred while being involved in this trial.”

A quick and calculated silence followed the statement, Alex’s eyes flitting nervously from Izzie to her lawyer to Jo, who sat behind him with her hands nervously running over her bump. He’d seen Izzie watching her with a venomous expression earlier, Alex’s grip around her waist tightening as they’d shuffled into the courtroom.

“Your Honor, we’d like to call Doctor Josephine Brooke Karev to the stand before we proceed,” Izzie’s other lawyer, a tall woman named Eleanor Krause, stood and gestured towards the witness stand. She wore an almost permanent scowl on her thin face, her dark eyes staring menacingly around the courtroom. “I have a few questions for the other Doctor Karev.”

Jo rose and quietly made her way towards the stand, eyes meeting Alex’s briefly before swearing in and turning to face Miss Krause.

“Doctor Karev, are you and Doctor Alexander Michael Karev still married?”

“No we are currently divorced,” Jo’s voice was clear and stoic as she answered, staring directly at the lawyer questioning her. “We’ve been divorced for almost three years now.”

“And the dissolution of your marriage occurred when separated he moved to Kansas to be with Doctor Stevens?”

“Correct…,” then quickly adding, “after learning of their existence, Alex determined he needed to sever all ties with Seattle to be there completely for his children. At least who he thought were his children.”

Krause’s eyes lit up suddenly, a wicked smile appearing on her face as she stared down Jo. Alex could feel his stomach drop, knowing that whatever the woman was going to say next would not be friendly or civil.

“And you also have a child fathered by Doctor Alexander Michael Karev, is that right?”

“Yes, my daughter Harper Josephine Karev, who is two, and the child I’m carrying now are both Alex’s,” Jo’s brow furrowed, hand settling onto her abdomen as she watched the woman take a step closer to her. “I don’t see what that has to do with the case at hand though.”

“I just want to know if the other Doctor Karev paid you child support during your first pregnancy and the two years of your daughter’s life that he wasn’t present,” Krause’s voice was practically dripping with malice as she stared Jo down. “I mean, we are here to make sure that he’s doing his duty as a father, whether he’s in the same state as his children or not, right? So, has he been paying child support to you, Doctor Karev?”

Jo’s eyes flitted to Alex nervously, his own telling her that it was okay to tell the truth. To be honest, he was scared what Jo’s answer would affect in the case, but he knew that at the end of the day he wouldn’t have to pay a dime to Izzie because her kids were not his.

“No he hasn’t, but he didn’t know he had a daughter until four months ago,” Jo argued, turning momentarily to the judge. “He’s been a present and wonderful father since he’s known about Harper.”

“Doctor Karev, are you sure beyond a reasonable doubt that both of your children are indeed Alex’s children? Did you not have your daughter shortly after your now ex husband left you?”

“What’s the relevance here,” Alex’s lawyer finally stood and challenged the woman accosting Jo. “Doctor Josephine Karev’s children shouldn’t have any effect on her ex husband's child support case! It’s cruel and malicious to be questioning her like this on the stand.”

Alex turned to glare at Izzie, angered that she wore the same expression as her shifty lawyer. She knew about what Krause was plotting, he would put money on the fact that she’d planted the seed of whatever cruel idea it was in her head.

“I’m just questioning Doctor Alexander Karev’s intentions when it comes to his children, however many that may be,” Krause shrugged, eyes narrowing in Jo’s direction. “You’ve filed papers to move forward with adding Alexander to your daughter’s legal paperwork, is that correct?”

That all too familiar feeling of horror flooded Alex’s senses again, overtaking everything as he watched Jo answer affirmatively, her eyes moving to him again. There were tears welling up in them now, the fear he felt in the room spreading to her as well. His breathing hitched as he listened to Izzie’s lawyer prattle on once more, her biting voice breaking through his mental fog.

“I’d like to request a hold on any formal paternity proclamations concerning Doctor Alexander Michael Karev’s alleged children until their paternity can be confirmed via DNA testing,” Krause moved her line of sight to Jo once more, a sharp note ringing through the courtroom as she delivered her final, jarring blow. “I’d like to request that all four of Doctor Karev’s alleged children are tested, I believe that Josephine here is still well within the window to have an amniocentesis performed.”

“No, hell no!” Alex stood from his chair, eyes blazing as he stared down Krause. “I am not letting you poke and prod my wife just for a damn child support case, especially one she’s not directly involved in.”

Both Alex and his lawyer turned pleadingly towards the judge, who was eyeing both Izzie and Alex warily. He was never one to feel anxious, but he couldn’t help the worry mounting in his chest. Finally, the judge spoke, his words directed towards Izzie’s lawyers.

“How long would this process take?”

“If we proceeded with the amniocentesis, we’d have results in as soon as three weeks,” Krause’s eyes moved to Alex, a sick look of delight glowing in them. “If you’re uncomfortable with that though, we can draw this case out until the baby is born.”

“I’ll do it,” Jo’s voice rang out before anyone else could answer, making all eyes in the courtroom turn to her. Alex felt his heart constrict as he watched her speak. “I’ll do the amnio, I don’t mind.”

“With Doctor Josephine Karev’s confirmation, I’m adjourning this case until the DNA results for Alexis Isobel Stevens, Eli George Stevens, Harper Josephine Karev, and Doctor Josephine Karev’s unborn child come back. Court adjourned, you may leave now,” the judge rose and left the courtroom quickly, not bothering to witness the pure mayhem that descended upon the room.

“You did this on purpose,” Alex was up and out of his seat before anyone could stop him, feet heading towards Izzie who wore a smug expression as she looked him over. “You disgust me, you’ve weaponized your own children against me and now you’re trying to jeopardize the health of my unborn child and wife?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Alex,” Izzie batted her eyelashes in Alex’s direction, her self satisfied smirk growing as she watched him become more angry. “Looking forward to seeing you again!”

Before he could respond to Izzie, a gentle hand pressed into Alex’s back and ushered him towards the exit. Jo’s presence, even if he hadn’t looked into her eyes yet, was an instant calming effect over him.

As soon as they stepped into the hallway, Jo and Alex were in each other’s embrace, steadying breaths matching the others as they tried to come to terms with what had just happened. Her face pressed against his chest, Alex could feel the slow shuddering breaths that left Jo as he held her. He knew the questions Izzie's lawyer had posed were ones that were a sore spot for Jo, ones she’d begged him not to believe as she’d cried into his arms just a few weeks earlier.

“Just one punch,” Jo mumbled the words against Alex’s chest, looking up to make sure he heard her. “Please? I just wanna punch her one time.”

Alex chuckled, looking down at Jo with a glint in his eye, “You know I can’t let you do that, even though it would make me happier than I care to admit.”

“You kept calling me your wife in there,” Jo pressed her hands against the lapels of Alex’s suit, avoiding his stare as she fixed her gaze on her hands. “I don’t hate hearing you say that again.”

The words made Alex’s heart stutter under Jo’s gentle touch, his mind racing as he took in fully what she was saying. Did she really want to be his wife again? After years of him being away, of her raising their daughter on her own? After he had all but abandoned her and told her via letter?

Watching Jo for another moment, Alex brought his fingers under her chin and met her eyes, “You wanna marry me again? After all the shit we’ve been through?”

“For some reason I do, you make me better,” Jo finally lifted her gaze back to Alex’s face, eyes welling with tears as she spoke. “You’ve given me the best things in my life, you’ve made me a better person. And if we can get through some of the things that have been thrown at us, then I truly think we can get through everything. I love you Alex, more than I can ever say to you. I know you think you’ve fucked up, but through the past few months you’ve shown me how much you’ve grown.”

Not knowing what to say, Alex leaned down and captured Jo’s lips with his own. If there was one thing that was almost always blaringly clear for him, it was that he didn’t deserve the woman in his arms. He couldn’t begin to fathom how much it had taken to forgive him, to even trust him again after what he’d done. But just as she’d always done, Jo saw him for who he really was underneath all of his layers of bullshit.

“We can go right now, we are in the courthouse,” Alex joked, prompting Jo to roll her eyes and gently slap his chest before walking towards the exit. “What? Not a funny joke? We had fun last time and the SUV has a bigger backseat than the Audi did.” “Mmm yeah, you know we made a baby that night, right?,” Jo raised her eyebrows, a mischievous grin lighting up her face as she took in Alex’s shocked expression. “You have really good luck, you know? You made one baby in the backseat of a car and another on the floor of an elevator.”

A peel of laughter escaped Jo as she tried to unsuccessfully move away from Alex’s grip on her hips, instead falling back into his arms as his lips grazed her neck.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, woman,” Alex whispered the words as he turned Jo around in his arms. “Weren’t you just trying to jump me in the bathroom a few hours ago? Is the car not up to your standards?”

“No, I’m just thinking that Link is keeping Harper overnight and our bed probably got to the new house already,” Jo smirked in satisfaction at the dark look that fell over Alex’s eyes at her suggestion. “Now's as good a time as any to start christening the place. Unless you can’t keep up with a younger woman?”

“Josephine Karev, you know I can keep up with you any day of the week,” Alex’s lips ghosted Jo’s ear as he lowered his voice, pressing her closer to him and making his aroused state perfectly clear for her. “Let’s go, before we have no choice but to finish things up in the car.”

+

Twenty four hours after leaving the courthouse, Alex and Jo find themselves in an exam room on the OB floor. With the amniocentesis being court ordered and both of them wanting to get things over as quickly as possible, they’d booked the first appointment that was available.

“How are you not nervous,” Alex sat beside Jo, her hand in his as Carina ran an ultrasound wand over Jo’s stomach. “I mean I’m not trying to make you nervous, but you know what happens here!”

“Can’t be any worse than a 15 hour unmedicated labor that ended with a 9 pound baby making its way out of your vagina,” Jo shrugged, Carina chuckling quietly next to her. “I came up with some very interesting curse words that day.”

Alex and Jo both watched the ultrasound screen intently, their baby reaching one leg up to kick at the probe. Carina furrowed her brow, watching the baby move languidly on the screen, “You’re going to have to get them to calm down, I cannot go in while they’re kicking all around like that.”

“Talk to them, they always calm down when you talk to them,” Jo turned to Alex and raised her eyebrows. “Go on! I don’t have all day to lay here Alex.” Alex looked between Jo and Carina before leaning down and speaking in the same mellow tone that Jo had become so used to hearing while they laid in bed at night, “Hey kiddo, you gotta slow down in there. Your mom and I are tangled up in this stupid ass thing-”

“Alex!”

“And we’d really appreciate it if you cooperated so we could get this done,” Alex glanced to the ultrasound screen, noticing that the erratic movements had lessened and the baby had calmed. “See, that’s more like it. You know your sister is very excited to meet you, she keeps running around talking about how she’s gonna be a ‘big shitser’ which is super adorable if not the most inappropriate thing to come out of a two year olds mouth.

“She wants to name you Elsa or Hei Hei, those are the options I was presented with a few nights ago anyways. I don’t think she really gets it, but she’s gonna be great,” Jo’s eyes closed quickly as Carina pulled out the needle, her hand squeezing Alex’s. “Okay you gotta be super still now, mom’s got a big needle in her-”

“You are not helping me, Alex.” “And she’s all done! Look at that, easy peasy,” Alex pressed a kiss to Jo’s forehead, following the once again active baby on the screen. “Hey look at that, baby’s flashing us!”

Jo sat up quickly, eyes scanning the screen as well with a laugh, “Well that’s one way to do a gender reveal.”

Alex leaned up to kiss Jo, laughter bubbling from both of them as they let the realization sink in. They had a house, they had two healthy kids, they had the promise of a great big future ahead of them. Court case be damned, they were happy and things were going right between them for once.

[hopecountysfavhoe]

‘Cold’ Chapter Eleven

Word Count: 2,403

Rating 18+

The Deputy couldn't move her arms.

She groaned through a cloth gag that had been stuffed in her mouth and tried to rub her head but her wrists didn't move, or rather the ropes tying down her wrists stopped her. She tried to move her legs but she ran into the same problem. When she opened her eyes she saw that she was laying in a dingy room on a rickety metal bed.

Her ears were ringing but her body felt weird, like she knew she was in pain but she couldn't feel it? She blinked and realized why, she was on Bliss. Sparkles faded in and out of her vision and her vision lagged. Despite her groggy state, the Deputy tried to yank the ropes loose. The sound of something getting broken outside her room made the Deputy flinch.

A muffled voice came from behind the heavy door. The ringing in the Deputy's ears and the Bliss made it hard to focus on it but she certainly tried. "What did I ask you to do?" It almost sounded like Jacob's voice.

"You asked me to find the Deputy sir." A meeker voice was barely audible.

"And?"

"And you asked me to bring her here for another trial."

"You went through the trials, didn't you Perry?" Jacob's voice was dangerously calm.

  "Yes of course sir." That must be Perry.

"The trials are put in place to not only test your worthiness of being part of Eden's Gate but to also test your physical strength, right Perry?"

"Uh, yes sir."

"So what condition do you think I want the Deputy to be in when I trust you to bring her here?"

"Um, incapacitated?" Perry answered, the Deputy could feel the fear in his voice.

"That's right, incapacitated. Did I ask you to beat the Deputy so bad that running the trial would almost kill her?" Jacob asked, not rhetorically.

  "N-no sir. When my men took her captive she appeared fully capable of running the trials."

"The trials are hard, I'll give you that, maybe you didn't beat her as bad as I was led to believe. Let's go see shall we?" The sound of Jacob's footsteps coming closer to the door made the Deputy react and struggle against the ropes that bound her to the bed.

She was able to just barely sit up on her elbows but her back and chest ached too severely to stay there very long. The ropes didn't budge around her wrists or ankles, keeping her fixed in her spot. Just the activity of struggling was enough to make the Deputy lightheaded, or was it the Bliss? She couldn't even tell.

The heavy door opened wide, letting dingy light flood the room. The Deputy squinted, her eyes not adjusted to the bright light. Jacob walked through the door followed by a hunter. He wore the same uniform as every other hunter of Jacob's but he wasn't wearing his face cover. The Deputy couldn't recognize his face, but she could recognize his voice.

Jacob walked over to the Deputy's bed while pulling out a knife. The Deputy tried to protest through the gag but it didn't do anything. Besides, Jacob wasn't trying to hurt her, he was cutting the ropes around her wrists. He cut the ropes and tossed them aside, not saying anything to Perry.

"Uh sir, what are you doing? Do you know who that is?" Perry questioned, reaching for his bow.

"I know more than you do." Jacob snapped at him. Perry's hand lingered over his bow but a quick look from Jacob put his hands right back to his sides. Jacob cut the ropes around the Deputy's ankles and stood up. He irritated the Deputy because he knew that she was too weak to do a damn thing. She took out the gag and coughed, trying to catch her breath. Jacob folded his arms over his chest while watching her.

The Deputy wanted to have more fight in her but she just couldn't muster any. Her whole body had the ghost of pain zapping her energy. "Come on Deputy, get up. Prove to Perry that you're fine." Jacob coaxed, still not looking at Perry.

The Deputy panted as she forced herself to stand up, she was able to get her footing for a second before her knees gave out again. Moving impossibly fast, Jacob had one hand under her arm as to not let her fall the whole way down. He held her there, half collapsed and gave her a shove closer to Perry.

Jacob's grip was firm, making the Deputy's arm sore where his fingers curled into her skin. "Does this look like she's fucking fine, Perry? Does it? Why don't you take a closer look?" Jacob adjusted his grip on the Deputy's arm and tilted her bloody and bruised face up to look at Perry.

It was obvious where she'd been hit with a pipe because of a huge gash that stretched from her cheek to her nose. One of her eyes had swollen to the point where it was almost shut and her face was a disfigured mess of black and red bruises.

Perry was obviously trying not to look disgusted while the Deputy tried her best to grit her teeth and look hostile. "She uh, she was resisting sir, my men had no choice but to-"

Jacob cut him off. "Was she fine or did she resist? If you want to make something of yourself you're going to have to learn the difference." He let go of the Deputy's arm, letting her drop to the floor. The impact of the floor wasn't severe but it was enough to make the Deputy groan. "You are walking on a fine line, Perry." Jacob walked closer to Perry, the anger in his voice was evident, even causing the Deputy's stomach to turn.

"You have been a good soldier, you listen to your orders, but this was not my fucking order you understand me? You ever pull something this stupid again and we'll have to let the Judges decide your worth, now get out." His voice was unwavering and the Deputy heard Perry shuffle out as quickly as possible.

The Deputy pushed her body up onto her forearms, pressing her forehead into the concrete floor. She grit her teeth and forced her legs underneath her. Jacob took a moment to dispel his anger towards Perry the realized what the Deputy was trying to do.

Her body shook as she stood up, using the bed frame as a support. She was hiding just how painful everything was, not well but she wasn't showing how weak she was. Every breath hurt, the more she moved the more her body shrugged off the Bliss and that meant she could feel more.

"What are you doing?" Jacob asked as the Deputy half fell back onto the bed, she moved so that she was flat on her back, hoping that would relieve the pressure on her ribs.

"My ribs hurt." She grumbled in response. Yes her ribs hurt, but along with her ribs were her legs and her back and her arms and they hurt too. The Deputy had gotten her ass kicked before, but toss in a weakened body/immune system along with Jacob's trials? It was overwhelming.

"You can still feel the pain?" Jacob asked, a hint of shock managed to escape.

The Deputy nodded and squeezed her eyes shut. The room wobbled and twisted in her vision even after her eyes closed, it was like her body was the only things staying still. Her face was knotted up in a grimace and Jacob frowned. He shut the door that Perry walked through and pulled up a chair next to the Deputy's bed.

  "You know Deputy, you still beat the trial. You survived." He said, pulling a needle out of a random medikit. "I can give you this, it's morphine. It's stronger than the Bliss for pain, all you have to do is-"

"No." The Deputy gave her head a small shake. Jacob looked up from the needle of morphine. The Deputy was pale and sweating, her hands shook under the effort it took to try and remain calm. She didn't open her eyes, only spoke in quiet, irritated words. "I can't join you." She muttered.

Jacob let out an irritated noise. "This is no time to be prideful, Deputy." He chided but the Deputy didn't respond.

Jacob studied the Deputy. She was quiet, the only sound was the sharp pained noise she made when she breathed. He made a decision. He didn't like it, but it was a plan that would keep the Deputy alive. He muttered a curse to himself and leaned closer to her and rolled her sleeve up past her elbow. The Deputy shifted as she tried to figure out what was happening but Jacob held her arm so that it didn't move. Jacob poked the needle into her arm and injected her with the morphine.

"I said I'm not joining you." The Deputy repeated but Jacob didn't listen to her protests.

"Your judgment is clouded. I'm sure you'll come to your senses when you've recovered." He put simply and the Deputy only responded with a pained sigh. She didn't know how to react. She couldn't exactly fight him or tell him off, and the morphine would help her. But she knew he was just doing this to try and turn her over to the Peggies' side.     

Jacob closed the medikit and got out of his chair, he walked to the door and paused to look back at her before he left. He didn't bother with tying her up to anything because he knew she was no threat.

The door that led to the light actually led to a spot where Jacob does his work. It's not his office but he was there quite a bit, especially when they had a tough case like the Deputy in there. Through the door was sort of their prisoner sick-bay area, a place where they would be confined but not die from their injuries.

Jacob had a large map spread out on his table and was moving little symbols around. It was his planning map and at that moment he was planning on where to put roadblocks. He sent Pratt off to go find something for him, something that would hopefully take him a while to find. It wasn't that he annoyed him, but he did annoy him, sometimes. He was on edge because of the Deputy though, so it wasn't always Pratt's fault.

So he moved things around on his map and checked on reports talking about supply vehicles being hijacked. That is until he heard the sound of something thudding to the ground in the other room. He let out an irritated sigh and went to go see what the Deputy was up too.

When he opened the door he saw the Deputy on the ground. She was trying to lift herself off the ground but her arms weren't responding very well. She let out a groan and settled for sitting herself up against the bed frame.

Jacob crossed his arms. "What are you doing?" He asked. The Deputy took a few pained breaths, only glancing up at Jacob standing in front of her.

"Well, I was trying to escape." The Deputy wiped her arm across her forehead. "But I fell over and fucked up my ribs." She clutched her abdomen obviously in a lot of pain.

"Really? And how did that go?" Jacob asked sarcastically.

"Listen I am in...an immense amount of pain right now...and your little comments aren't helping." The Deputy's face scrunched up as she tried her best to breath without hurting herself.

Jacob studied her, his expression was unreadable. "I know you want to say something...just say it. Tell me how weak I am." The Deputy winced and let her head fall back into the bed, her tone was tired but still angry.

Jacob wanted to say something, he wanted to try and make the Deputy understand why he was working so hard to bring her to their side. But everything he said just rolled off of her, nothing got into her head.

He crouched down to her level, his cool blue eyes boring into hers. "You can't keep this up Deputy, even you should know when to quit." He said, his voice was quiet.

The Deputy shifted her weight and let out a groan. "I'm still gonna try." She promised, looking right back into his eyes.

"For someone who wants to die, you sure do fight it." Jacob said, not breaking their eye contact.

"I don't want to die." The Deputy wheezed and Jacob shook his head.

  "Then why do you throw yourself head first into any problem you find? If you don't want to die then what do you want? Praise? Attention?"

"I do it...I do it because I'm a good person. I have an empathetic moral compass or something like that." The Deputy finally decided that laying down could help take some of the pain away from her ribs. She lifted herself off of the floor, using the bed frame as her support. Jacob took a step away from her as she eased herself down onto the bed. With an arm still wrapped around her abdomen the Deputy laid back into the mattress.

"You need to stop Deputy, if you don't agree to join us then I won't give you more pain killers." Jacob tried to bargain. Even the Deputy wasn't so hard-headed as to turn away something like that.

The Deputy waved him off with her hand weakly. "I'm fine, this isn't so bad." She lied right through her teeth. Jacob was getting impatient with her. He wanted to grab her by the collar and yell at her until she understood but that was not the way to try and bring the Deputy over to their side.

Jacob sighed and went to walk out the door.

"Just so you know," the Deputy stopped him, not sitting herself up to look at him, "I'm still upset about this." She said and Jacob let out a deep chuckle.

"We'll see how long you can keep that attitude up." He shut the door with an echoing thud, sealing the Deputy back in the darkness.

[basiccortez]

Defenseless Ch. 1

Synopsis: CJ Jackson, looks like she has it all. Fancy car, fancy house, name  brand clothing. Her parents, top boosters to Beverly, with money to make all sorts of situations go away. As well as the Jackson family looks put together, past secrets haunt them. With the new transfer student catching the eye of CJ Jackson, can old friendships be fixed. Or are somethings just meant to stay broken. "I told you, as long as I live, no one would know."

word count: 3.4k 

pairing: Jordan Baker x OC (CJ Jackson) 

warnings: cursing, talk of death, talk of drug addiction, talk of a juvenile being in trouble, high school boys being high school boys 

It was like a heavy cement blocks were tied to her feet. She moved slowly towards the front doors of the place that reminded her of a prison, but with nicely dressed inmates. People passed by her, and just ignored her presence, something she wasn't used to at all. She was used to people flocking to her sides, begging for a party invite, or to be in her next photo shoot, or to be the next guy on her list, or just one dinner with anyone of her brothers. But now, she was blended into the background, like she never existed.

Somehow, she made her way to the front office, just in time for the first bell to ring. It was her first day back, and already half way through the first semester. She had just been released only a week prior to this bright and early Monday morning. Her brown boxbraids were tied back and out of her face. Her makeup was done to perfection, and her clothes; nicely pressed and matched well. She'd rather be dead than look a mess for her first day back.

"Christine Joy Jackson, I'm here to pick up my schedule." She spoke softly to the secretary. The secretary with bright red cat-eye glasses nodded, and pulled out a file, handing a pink piece of paper to CJ.

"You are to meet with Mrs. Riley first, before heading to your classes." The secretary nodded and CJ rolled her eyes, "Welcome back CJ."

"Thank you," CJ sighed and headed down to the office of her favorite person.

CJ made her way down to the east end of the school, where she was too familiar with being in the In-School suspension office. She knocked on the brown wooden door that was covered in papers for recovery centers, planned parenthood, adoption counselors, and local community colleges.

"Come in!" The voice from the other side called out. CJ took a deep breath before opening the door, and seeing Mrs. Riley behind the door. Her dark brown hair was curled and her skin looked flawless. That woman looked like she didn't age a day, but she also meant business, "My favorite parolee, CJ Jackson."

"Mrs. Riley," The teen girl sassed, setting her bag down in the chair next to her, and plopping her body in a chair, "Instructed to see you first."

"Yeah, just some parole stuff," Mrs. Riley said, grabbing a folder out of her desk, and setting in front of CJ. The folder was dauntingly big and felt like it could start a fire at any moment, "As you know, I am your parole officer, lucky for you or not. But know that I don't play around about any of this."

"This ain't my first go around with you."

"Ain't is not a word, now speak like your momma raised you." Mrs. Riley said and CJ rolled her eyes and sat back in her chair, "You are on parole for approximately 90 days, as a term of early release from your juvenile detention program. Terms of your parole include, attendance of school is mandatory, unless an absence notice from a doctor. You must check in with your parole officer everyday at 8 AM sharp, and do not be late. You will pass all administered drug tests, and random drug tests can be done as well. Another term of parole is being involved in not only in community service, but as well as a school activity. Your parents have suggested the dance team."

"Over my dead body." CJ laughed loudly.

"Christine Joy, these are the terms unless you would like to serve out the rest of the 90 days in a juvenile detention center." Mrs. Riley said, giving CJ one of her famous glares. A glare that felt like getting the fear of God put in you.

"No ma'am." CJ answered quickly.

"Good, you have till the end of this week to find a school activity. The community service project will be decided for you. Now you'll sign some stuff and be on your way." Mrs. Riley said smiling and handing CJ some papers for her to sign.

CJ's shoes clicked down the corridor as she made her way to her first class, anatomy. The teacher had already started teaching when, CJ opened the door. Eyes fell to her, and immediately the whispers started. The girl swallowed thickly and handed her note to her teacher. She quickly scanned the classroom for an open seat, and found one next to an unknown face.

"All right, listen up, I want you all to do a search on chromosomal DNA and make a slide on how it connects with last week's work on protein." The teacher said. Everyone automatically opened up their laptops sitting in front of them. CJ grabbed her's out her bag and set it in front of her too. The new kid looked around, uneasy about what he was supposed to do. He didn't have a laptop of his own to use, he usually shared one with his mother and younger brother.

"Spencer, right?" The teacher asked, coming over to him. He lifted his head and looked at the teacher, nodding.

"Yes ma'am."

"It's okay if you don't have a computer. Just pair up with a classmate for now."

"Okay, thank you." Spencer said and CJ looked up at him. Spencer tried looking at the boy next to him, who just moved his computer closer to himself.

"Hey, Todd. Keep watching that Logan Paul feed." CJ said to him.

"Whatever, CJ." Todd said and Spencer looked up at the light-skinned girl.

"Uh. . . you can share with me." CJ said lightly, and Spencer nodded. He moved his stuff over to where she was sitting.

"Thank you," Spencer said.

"I'll warn you, my chromosomal DNA knowledge is non-existent at best. And it's also my first day in this class."

"I might be able to help with that." Spencer laughed lightly and CJ moved her laptop in between the two of them. The two of them worked on their assignment, occasionally having to ask the teacher about what some of it meant, since it was both of their first days in the new class. CJ felt like eyes were watching her, and she turned around and noticed an old friend in class. CJ turned back to her assignment and kept her head down, not wanting to draw anymore attention.

When the bell rang, CJ offered to show Spencer to where the cafeteria is. Spencer was thankful that someone besides his new football coach wanted to show him around. CJ was just thankful to have found someone new at the school who hadn't known of her reputation.

"Salad bar, coffee cart." CJ said pointing at various locations in their center quad, "They used to serve sushi on Fridays, not sure if they still do."

"Sushi on Friday? At Crenshaw, we get sushi on Monday, that's all." Spencer joked and CJ laughed.

"Smart, and funny. I'm impressed." CJ said turning to him. But Spencer paused, and his eyes went to a beautiful tall, light skinned girl. CJ shifted uncomfortably as the girl made her way into the quad. Of course Spencer noticed her, she was beautiful and by far the most popular girl in Beverly. A spot that CJ once claimed.

"Layla Keating, Beverly Hills resident sweetheart." CJ said to Spencer, "Dad's some big-time record producer. And I heard they spend every Thanksgiving with the Obamas. And rumor has it, she even smoked pot with Malia last year."

"You must be Spencer," a familiar voice said from behind them. CJ turned and saw the star football player, Jordan Baker walk over to the pair, "Jordan Baker, QB, team captian."

"Baker?" Spencer asked, "Oh so you must be-"

"Yeah, coach is my dad. I'll take it from here, CJ." Jordan said and CJ nodded walking away from the two football players, "Come on, let me introduce you to the team."

"Hey, thanks for the tour." Spencer said before CJ could get too far away from him. She smiled at the Crenshaw boy, and looked down at her shoes.

"Yeah," She said quietly.

"Sushi on Friday?" Spencer asked, and CJ nodded.

"It's a date!" CJ agreed. Spencer looked the Jackson girl up and down before heading off behind Jordan. CJ cringed at the words that she said, before going off to find a table to herself, away from the stares and rumors about herself. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"No, I saw her. Like with my eyes. CJ Jackson is back at Beverly." Asher Adams said to the group of friends as they ate lunch.

"I thought she had like a whole year left?" Hadley said, as she picked at her salad in her lap.

"Daddy's money can get you out of anything." Lucy said giggling, "Bold of her to come back after the shit show she created with everything."

"She's lucky she didn't get more time. Heard Mrs. Baker showed up at the trial and basically bailed her ass out. She was gonna get at least 15 to life," Asher said, embellishing the story a little bit.

"Now that's excessive." JJ said and Asher rolled his eyes.

"She's basically a murderer!" Asher exclaimed.

"No one even knows what she did exactly, maybe she was supposed to get out this early any way." Layla said, trying to defend her close friend.

"So. . . did she have an ankle bracelet? A tear drop tattoo?" JJ joked causing Asher, Lucy and Hadley to laugh. Layla rolled her eyes and picked at her food, as Jordan walked up to the group with handsome young man she had seen earlier.

"Meet the crew," Jordan said as he pointed out different members of the friend group, "This is Hadley, Layla, and up top, Lucy, JJ and Asher." Each of them shook Spencer's hand and Jordan took a seat next to his girlfriend Hadley. He greeted her with a kiss, and took his backpack off.

"I think you and Asher play the same position." JJ said as Spencer took a seat next to Layla.

"What's up, man?" Asher said trying to seem welcoming.

"Oh, receiver, huh?" Spencer asked him.

"Yeah, broke the school record for receptions last year." He said boasting about the accomplishment.

"Me, too." Spencer said and Asher just nodded his head, not saying a word.

"So, how are you liking Beverly so far?" Layla asked Spencer.

"It's okay, I guess." Spencer said smiling up at the girl. Asher looked between the new receiver and his girl questioningly, not liking how nice she was being to him.

"I know it probably feels like lost footage or rich kids from Instagram, but it's not so bad once you give it a chance." Layla said honestly, her browns eyes drifting across the quad to where CJ sat, alone and with a book in her hand.

"I'm sure it'll grow on me." Spencer responded.

"So lay it on me," Asher said breaking up the conversation between them, "Crips or Bloods?"

"Excuse me?" Spencer asked him. Hadley  looked questioningly at Jordan and then at Asher, who continued talking, digging himself an even bigger grave.

"I'm dying to check out a Crip walk for real." Asher said putting his arm around Layla, "I've only seen one on YouTube."

"Yo, yo, he's just joking man. Ignore him," Jordan said trying to fix Asher's mistake.

"Asher, you wouldn't know a Crip walk if it bit you in the damn white ass." JJ joked, causing everyone to laugh but Spencer, who was feeling offended by his new teammate.

"Nah, that didn't sound like a joke to me, bro." Spencer said looking at Jordan. The group grew quiet and looked at each other as Asher tried to defend himself.

"Don't be so sensitive."

"Sensitive?" Spencer asked, standing up angrily. All the groups eyes were on Spencer as he grabbed his backpack and pulled it over his shoulder, "Hey, yo, thanks for the welcome." He said as he walked away from the group. His brown eyes scanned the quad, and found a familiar face sitting alone, reading a book. Spencer sat down across from CJ, startling her out of the reading trance that she was in.

"Sorry for scaring you." He said genuinely.

"No, thanks for scaring me. Too entranced into the world of The Field Party series to even notice anything." CJ said, setting her book down. Spencer reached across the table and picked up the book, reading the back of it.

"A small southern town filled with cute boys, pickup trucks, Friday Night football games, and crazy parties to stir up some major drama," Spencer said reading the back of the book out loud, "Can't get enough drama at high school, you need to read about it?"

"It's different to read about it than to live it. Besides, if my parents didn't land here after my dad's retirement, I could've grown up, going to these crazy field parties in so called, Lawton Alabama."

"It makes sense now, Chris Jackson the 3rd, your dad. . ."

"Receiver for the Chiefs, before retiring in 2015, that's the one." CJ said, "And now coach for the LA chargers."

"Wow, that's crazy. I wanted to play under him if he was at Bama, but-"

"Hey!" Layla said, sitting down next to Spencer, "Christine,"

"Layla. I'll see you around, Spencer." CJ said, gathering her stuff and moving tables. Part of her agreement to herself to get better, was not hanging around her old group. CJ still had an hour left for lunch, and went to the only place where she felt welcome in this school.

CJ knocked on the door and waited for the welcome in. The door opened and CJ held up her brown paper lunch sack and had a shy smile on her face, "Can i eat here?" She asked.

"You're always welcome in here, CJ." Mrs. Riley said, and shut the door behind her. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a long pep talk to get CJ to even walk into the girls locker room, and to the dance coach's office. It was an even longer one to get her to open the door and talk to the coach. The coaches and teachers had known about the terms of CJ's parole, and knew that they had to give her a fair chance at trying out for the team.

"Alright, let's see what you can do. You'll learn the dance, and then me, and the other coach, and the captain will give you a mock tryout, and see how you do," The coach, Mrs. Williams said to CJ, "Go get changed, Hadley will give you a uniform."

Hadley stood outside the door, and walked CJ to an open locker. She handed CJ a new uniform and waited for her to change.

"Hey listen,. . ." Hadley started but CJ slammed her locker shut and looked at Hadley, "How are you?"

"How am I?"CJ said looking at the girl who was once her friend, "That's all you have to say to me, after what I went through?"

"CJ, listen, I'm so sorry for what. . ."

"It wasn't your fault, now let me go to practice, since I have to prove to everyone I still deserve to be on a team that I helped build up from literally nothing." CJ said and pushed passed Hadley to the gym. The girl sighed, and could at least tell her friend group that she tried to talk to her.

CJ tied her box braids back, and stretched on the floor with the rest of the team. The girls would stare at her and whisper occasionally, but CJ tried her best to ignore it. Hadley sat down across form where CJ was stretching and faced her. She began stretching too, and CJ just looked at her.

"What are you doing?" CJ asked her.

"Stretching with my captain." She answered and touched her toes with her arms out straight.

"I'm not the captain anymore." CJ shrugged and pulled her legs into the butterfly stretch.

"Well, you and I both know you can out dance Emily Pierce any day."

"She's the captain, oh my god who let that happen?" CJ said and wrinkled her face in disgust.

"Well after your mom stepped down as the head coach, Mrs. Williams took over. Hence why EP is the captain."

"Alright ladies!" Emily Pierce's voice rang out over the gym. CJ groaned and stood up, fixing the black spandex on her body, "We are going to run through Countdown and then learn the new dance. So places!" Everyone moved to their places except CJ, who stood in the back, "Oh CJ, you can um. . . stand next to Hadley."

CJ nodded and stood next to Hadley in the front. When the music started, CJ remembered the dance from the year before. She started moving in the familiar moves that she knew, and obviously caught the eye of the captain who stopped the music almost immediately.

"What are you doing?" Emily asked her.

"My dance, this is my dance."

"Not anymore, this is my dance. I changed things after you up and got yourself arrested. Now stand in the back and follow the group." Emily said and CJ nodded her head and moved to the back.

For the rest of the rehearsal, CJ was quiet and stood in the back, following the moves the Emily was teaching the group, even though she hated every second of it. When practice was dismissed, she was the first in the locker room, taking her uniform off and shoving it into her dance bag. She slammed her locker shut and stormed out of the locker room, running straight into a hard, muscular body.

"Hey, watch-" "I'm so sorry." They both said at the same time. CJ looked up at Jordan Baker, the one person she didn't want to see.

"CJ, you good?" Jordan asked. He could see the red lining of her eyes and nose, as she was about ready to cry.

"Ignore me like you have been the whole day, Baker. I'm fine." CJ said and pushed away from Jordan. She was thankful that her father was waiting at the front of the school. CJ ran down the steps and into her brother who was waiting for her. He engulfed her in a tight hug, and ran his through her hair as she cried. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That night, at the Baker household, Jordan walked up to his mom, who was unloading groceries into the fridge. He hadn't ever asked his mother about why she took CJ's case, even after everything she had done to his family. But now, that CJ was back at Beverly and constantly running into things in his life. Hadley had said that she seemed civil at dance practice, but Jordan didn't trust whatever CJ was trying to do.

"Hey, Mom." Jordan said.

"Yes, hun?" Laura said and closed the fridge.

"Why did you take CJ Jackson's case?" He asked.

Laura paused a minute and sighed, "I can't discus that with you. Why? What's going on? She try and contact you or Olivia again?"

"No, even worse, She's back at Beverly. Rumors are going around that she got released early."

"And they let her back at Beverly, after all the things she had done?" Laura asked surprised, "Guess money really does get you things."

"Mom," Jordan said somewhat defending his ex-friend, "You know that's not true. Hadley said that she's trying to get her spot back on the dance team, and that she seemed to change."

"Listen to me Jordan, girls like that, who strive off of their parents success and money, don't change. I. . . I defended CJ Jackson because her parents asked me too." Laura said honestly, "CJ didn't want a lawyer or attorney. She plead guilty and was ready for her charge. If you ask me, she should've gotten those 15 years. She is and was guilty for that boy's death, there' no doubt in my mind."

Jordan looked down at his shoes and didn't say anymore. He turned on his heel and walked back up to his room. He hated the feeling that was settled in his chest. He so much wanted to fight against what his mother was saying about CJ. Jordan was one of the only friends in his group to believe CJ. He was also the only Baker who believed her too.

[spaceskam]

a change in the rhythm

day 7 of @alterarnm : future setting! small warning for non-graphic violence

ao3

Michael liked movies.

Truly, that was the only time he got to see people that looked like him. They all had hair and skin and talked with their mouths‒wasn’t that so cool? He’d never seen another real person in his whole life. Sometimes he had dreams of what it might be like to be in one of his movies. To have strong soldiers sweep him off his feet or have a pretty ladies to kiss in the rain or a group of friends to help him through the trials and tribulations of life. Or maybe just one friend. It’d be a lie to say he hadn’t wondered what a hug felt like.

But that wasn’t really an option. Mother was strict. The outside space was unsafe, uninhabitable. He couldn’t even think of a reason to argue with her though because why else would he be there in the first place? He had to have been put there by another person like him before, even if he was a baby when it happened. This was where it was safe. In all the time that he’d been in here, before and after he was in his pod, no one had come. That was at least 18 years proof that it wasn’t safe.

“Have you finished your meal?” Mother asked, her system rolling into the kitchen area. He remembered when he was young, he’d gotten very upset when he saw the way houses looked in movies. He wanted a kitchen too. So they made one.

“Yes,” he said.

“Good. Time for school.”

His mornings went like this: he woke up early, had his first meal while watching a movie, and then did school for four hours. He’d picked up things quickly with not much else to do and, for the last little while, he’d been working on studying mechanical engineering. That, for the most part, was easy. He already worked on most of the stuff on his home, even helping Mother tinker with any accidentally rusty parts.

After school, he had his second meal and then it was time for self-defense. He never really knew why he needed to know how to fight, but he never questioned it. He was good at it and he liked the way it made him feel. 

Later, he would wind down with more movies. Technically, they had a limited supply and it was whatever the real people who put him here had given him. There were fifty different ones, all black and white, and Michael had memorized them all. Sometimes he wanted more. A few years prior, he’d wanted to make his own so they did. So, technically, he had fifty-one.

Then he’d have his last meal, a shower, and then he’d go to sleep. That was it, day in and day out. Every once in a while, Mother would let him do something different, but not often. She said the routine was good for him and, well, she knew better than he did.

Sometimes, though, after she’d shut down for the night, Michael would sneak out of his bunk and go see his pod. He had to be careful not to set off any of the signals that she had around his bunk‒he’d learned that the hard way. Over the years, though, he’d gotten quite good at it.

Because pods, on top of being safe spaces, also gave their owner amplified telepathy. In theory, if someone was near, he could let them know where he was. Mother kept it away from him so he would never get his hopes up, but it was hard. He wanted someone else, someone who was like him, someone who wasn’t made of metal. Just one more person. Just one.

His pod was hidden in a room that was on a completely different level of his home, hidden behind a door that required him to know how to dismantle the computer that locked it. He did that easily this night, slipping into the room and going towards the glow of the pod. He rested his hands on it and closed his eyes, doing his best to reach out to anyone who might hear. He knew that no one would, but, deep down, he begged. He reached for them.

It wasn’t that he was unhappy with Mother or ungrateful for all that she’d done. It was simply that he was lonely. She couldn’t be mad at him for being lonely.

Like every other time, though, Michael didn’t feel anyone else and it further confirmed that he was the only one left.

He went to sleep trying not to let that fact hurt as much as it did.

-

Michael woke up to the sound of alarms ringing.

He didn’t know how to react, fear seeping into his bloodstream as he looked around. He didn’t see Mother and he didn’t hear her and that was even more scary. She was always right there when something happened. Always.

Nonetheless, he did as he was taught. He jumped out of his bunk and quickly ran down the hall to find his closet, slipping inside and hiding behind his clothes. In a small box behind them were his dagger which he retrieved and held tight. Perhaps this was a test, Mother was making sure he could protect himself in case something bad happened. Hopefully, this was a test.

Michael waited for what seemed like hours, but probably wasn’t nearly that long, listening to the alarm and waiting to hear Mother coming for him. He was prepared to protect himself and then to accept the praise that came with it.

Only, he didn’t hear that. He heard footsteps. Mother didn’t have those.

“The pod is empty but active, so we have the right place,” a man’s voice said, “The Last Antarian has to be around here somewhere.”

“And Manes is handling the AI?”

“Manes? I’m Manes.”

“...the only Manes that can dismantle an AI, our captain, your brother?”

“Just call him the Bloody Baby so I know who the hell you’re talking about.”

“You know he answers to that less than he’ll answer to Captain.”

“He should’ve thought about that before he slaughtered half of the Pax Intelligence at 16 and then got promoted.”

“Just find the Antarian, Manes.”

Michael felt his blood run cold, bracing himself for what was going to happen as he heard things being slammed as they searched. Searched for him. For a moment, he wondered if this was why Mother kept the pod away from him. She was scared he would alert the wrong people.

And here the wrong people were.

He held his breath as they got closer, preparing himself to fight back until he couldn’t. He could do this. He could do this. He could do this. 

All too quickly, the closet door swung open and they moved the clothes away.

"Prince Michael, we're here to rescu-"

Michael lunged. He used his daggers recklessly, swinging and hitting anything he could. There were four men, all bigger than him, so he had to do his best. He got at least one solid slash on three of them before they grabbed him by each limb, bitching as he squirmed in an attempt to be let free.

He wanted someone. This wasn’t what he meant.

“Let go of me!” Michael spat, wriggling as best he could. 

“He speaks English?” one of them said in bewilderment.

“Does it fucking matter? He stabbed me!” another one said. 

“If you stop fighting, we will let go of you!” the one who wasn’t hurt said. Michael didn’t stop.

“We have to sedate him!” the oldest announced.

Before Michael could register much, he was being stabbed in the chest with a long needle and almost immediately passed out.

-

“Get out.”

“You can’t just lock us out of the miss‒”

“I can and I already have. You seem to be forgetting that I’m your captain. Get out, Flint. When he wakes up, the last thing he needs to see is your ugly ass.”

A door closed, officially reminding Michael what had happened. He startled awake, immediately jumping to defend himself only to see he was on a large bed with his ankle chained to it. A whole new kind of dread filled him as he looked around to see who else was there. It was just one other person: a baby faced man with long, dark braided hair, skin too tan to be from someone who was inside all the time, and warm eyes. His hands were at his side calmly, showing that he had no weapon. His outfit… Well, it was all black, but the garments themselves made no sense to Michael. It covered him well enough on the bottom, but a good portion of his arms and chest could easily be seen. He was beautiful. 

“Forgive me for having you chained, but you did stab three of my men and I figured you would wake up just as feisty,” he said, giving a smile that matched some of the movies he’d seen. Like it was meant to be kind. It made Michael feel exposed. “You can call me Alex. Hopefully we can be friends.”

“Where is Mother?” Michael demanded. Alex, Captain, the Bloody Baby, looked confused as he walked closer. The closer he got, the more Michael felt scared. He was in control of bad guys, so he had to be a bad guy. Why couldn’t Michael meet someone that looked like him who wasn’t a bad guy? 

“Mother?” he repeated, “The old AI, you mean? It’s programmed to be maternal? Well, that would explain why it put up a fight.” 

“Mother,” Michael reinforced, “Where is she?”

“That’s what you want to know? Of all the things, you want to know about the robot that held you captive for your entire life?” Alex asked. Michael glared the best he could and Alex held up his hands in submission. “She’s dismantled, but, if you really care, I can work on her later so she can help you acclimate.”

“Acclimate?” Michael repeated.

Alex came closer, sitting on the bed as well. Micheal moved as far away from him as he could. He didn’t come any closer.

“I don’t know how much you know, so I’ll just fill you in on the crucial details. Hundreds of years ago, a civil war was wiping out the Antarian people. That’s what you are. There was a legend that the infant Antarian prince was put on a ship for his safety and launched into the depths of space, but there were no facts. This was simply legend, you see, passed down from the few Antarian refugees who survived. This prince was said to be the most powerful being in the galaxy, but no one was sure he was real. Until two weeks ago, when I saw your little telepathic ping on my radar.

“I kept it to myself, I thought it was a fluke or maybe a different species, but then last week that little ping showed up again and I knew it wasn’t a mistake. So I alerted my home planet that I’d found something. Regardless of who you were, it was a rescue mission. No living being is meant to be alone like that, but I wanted to keep it to my crew until I knew for sure who you were. And, after the blood test, I know for sure,” Alex filled in, giving him that same warm smile, “Welcome to civilization, Prince Michael.”

Michael couldn’t make sense of what he was being told. That didn’t sound right. That sounded like a lie. He wasn’t powerful, he wasn’t a prince, he wasn’t special. 

“That’s not me,” Michael insisted, “I’m just Michael. I don’t have any powers. I want Mother.”

Alex nodded. “And I’ll get her for you soon, I just have to fix her up a bit, alright? And you do have powers, you just don’t know it yet. We found strong traces of Sulfaparinmycin in your system. It seems Mother has been suppressing your powers since you left your pod.”

That didn’t make sense either. Why would she do that and still teach him to fight? If he had powers, wouldn’t she want him to be able to protect himself to the best of his ability?

“Hey, listen, I know you’re scared, but I’m here to answer any question you have, alright?” Alex promised, “We’re friends here.” 

“That man who grabbed me first, he said you were called the Bloody Baby. You’re a bad man,” Michael told him. Alex flinched just a little, removing himself from the bed.

“Right,” he sighed, “That’s true, somewhat. I was a bad man. I was told from a young age that people who were even slightly a threat needed to be killed and I got good at that, but I learned that that isn’t the way to live. I stopped as soon as I heard someone call me that name, even though it led to me getting my status as Captain. But, I promise, I’m not that way, you’re safe.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“That’s alright, I haven’t given you a reason to,” Alex agreed. Still, Michael eyed him. “But I plan to earn that trust. I spoke to my home planet and alerted your retrieval, but I’m not sending you there. Instead, you’ll stay here where I can bring Mother back to help you, and I’m having an Antarian descendant come to help you learn to work your powers. Once you adjust, you can decide what you want to do. This isn’t forever.” 

Alex pulled a key from his clothing, making sure he saw it before he came closer to unlock the cuff around his ankle. The warm hand on his leg sent chills up his spine. When he’d fought those men, it hadn’t given him a moment to really think about the fact that it was another person, but now he could. He was warm.

Michael realized that, while this wasn’t ideal, if Alex was telling the truth, then he might get what he wanted. Companionship. Kisses. A hug. He could meet someone and understand what it was like to be with someone. Just like in the movies, he just had to be nice to him.

“You’re warm,” he said out loud after Alex freed him.

“I’m sorry?” Alex asked, laughing softly. Michael folded his legs beneath himself and tried to relax as best he could as he reached towards Alex with both hands. He looked confused but stepped a bit closer. “I don’t know what you’re asking for, Prince Michael.”

Michael leaned forward and grabbed his arm, pulling it into his space. He was scarred all over, but he was real. He was real. Michael let out a helpless little laugh, extending his fingers and touching each one. Then he did like what he saw in the movies, putting his hand up Alex’s so they were flat against each other and it became so clear that he was similar.

“Wow,” Michael breathed.

“You got over your fear quickly,” Alex noted. Michael shook his head.

“The movies say you have to be nice,” he explained. He realized he wasn’t very nice when he stabbed those men, but they weren’t very nice by coming in unannounced. It felt a bit even now.

“Movies, huh?” Alex asked, “You had movies?”

“That’s all I had,” Michael explained.

“I see,” Alex said, shifting his hand just a little to lace his fingers with his. Michael’s eyes widened involuntarily and he gasped, marveling at how they fit together. Alex laughed. That was even more beautiful. Perhaps he was closer to the men he'd seen in his dreams, the strong soldiers who rescued him. Maybe this was a rescue after all.

"This is beautiful," Michael told him, making sure he really understood how amazing it was that their hands fit like that. Alex kept smiling, warm and fond.

"I think I'm going to really enjoy having you around if you see everything that way," Alex said. Michael nodded. He couldn't deny it, he probably would. This amazing thing was so easy, he couldn't even imagine all the bigger amazing things that could happen.

"I think you will."

“How about we go see what kind of movies we have? Maybe I have something you haven’t seen, a little bit newer, to help you get caught up to the rest of the galaxy.” 

“Really?” Michael asked, feeling more than a little eager to see something new. Alex nodded and tugged on his hand a bit, gesturing for him to get off the bed. When he did, he noticed that one of the legs Alex was standing on was metal. "You're metal like Mother?"

"No," Alex said with a soft laugh, "This comes off. It's to help me walk."

"Can I see it come off? I like things made of metal."

"Not right now," Alex told him, "Maybe later."

Michael complied, more sure now than ever that Alex truly was that soldier in his dreams.

“Come, I’ll give you a tour.”

Alex kept a hold of his hand as he led him out of the room, showing him around the ship. Everything was so much different, so new, so foreign. He was mesmerized. And, sure enough, Alex did answer any question he had. It was so strange, but he couldn’t even hide his excitement. 

Even when the went back to the room after he was tired from all the new stuff, they put on a new movie. It was all so… good.

Maybe he really would be okay.

[veridium]

fake happy

Well, whaddya know! The College AU is back, baby! Unfortunately June was pretty much hell in a handbasket, so writing took a backseat. But, we are far from done. Thank you to everyone for sighting tight, and to @bitchesofostwick for being a very patient co-author. 

So, where were we? Ah, yes, the holiday weekend from hell. On with the show! Title bought to you by a great Paramore song.

masterpost // last chapter

--

“Hey baby cakes!”

The moment she hears the shrill greeting whilst getting out of her car in the sandstone-colored driveway, Olivia knows she’s in a chapter of Dante’s Inferno. All the calmness she had with Ellinor earlier that day is gone; it is easier said than done enduring four days in the house of Paula Sinclair.

“Hey,” she rushes over her shoulder, pulling the side lever to release the trunk where her bags are kept. Just two, one of clothes and toiletries and the other books and supplies to do assignments. She’ll need the preoccupation as an excuse for the gauntlet of trials her Mom will invite her to.

As she’s filing her luggage out onto the driveway, she sees her Mom’s shadow approaching. She glances and sees her in all her glory: an olive green sundress with one of those straw pool hats. She was probably out basking in the sun all afternoon before this. Olivia is surprised she thought to put down whatever spiked beverage she must have had with her to come outside and greet her only child. 

“Did you have a safe drive? You certainly did not rush to get home safe,” Paula says, halting and crossing her arms. 

Olivia slams the trunk closed and huffs, slinging one bag’s strap over her shoulder and the other on her opposite forearm. “I woke up late, and had to help Ellinor pack.” Sorry, Ellinor. 

“Ellinor! I will miss her this year.” A lie said out of convenience. The whole time Ellinor stays with them, Paula shoots her peculiar questions about her personal life or her political views. Ellinor knows better now after these last couple of years how to play them off, but Paula can’t help but size people up. It’s how she cultivates all her complaints.

“I will, too,” Olivia lets out as she makes her way to the front door, past the splendorous potted plants and fake green grass turf. Her Mother saunters behind her through the open door. 

Once inside Olivia notices what’s missing, and sets her smaller bag down. 

“Wh--”

“No no, do not just leave that there! Take it to the mud room or your bedroom.”

Olivia bites back a groan and turns around to face Paula as she shuts and locks the large-ass, gaudy-ass front door. “Fine. Where is Nemo?”

“Nemo?”

“...the dog, Mother.”

“Nemo! Oh, psh,” she waves her acrylics. “He is off in the yard. I kept him outside because the carpet steamers came this morning. You know how his muddy little paws are! Now, do I not get a hug?”

Olivia tenses up from head to toe, seeing her Mother coming in for the hug she didn’t wait for permission for. At least Nemo isn’t mysteriously gone -- she’s read too many horror stories online of people’s parents being complete monsters about their old family pets dying, and not telling the children who live elsewhere -- but Paula keeps Nemo out in the yard for days at a time when she gets the carpets cleaned. He will need company, and not just the husband going out and practicing his golf swing adjacent to him. 

Oh, right, there’s a husband around here.

Paula hugs her with her arms draped over Olivia’s shoulders, rather than around her waist like a good bear hug. Something Dad would know how to do.

“I imagine Fred is off shooting, stuffing, or smoking something,” she mutters over her Mother’s shoulder, to which Paula gently swats at her shoulder and guffaws. 

“No, silly! He’s in the yard with Nemo, your fellow prisoner,” she teases, picking up on Olivia’s dread with her trademark passive aggression. Only three minutes in the door, a new record. 

“I didn’t say he couldn’t do those things out in the yard.” Lord knows he has before. 

“Where do you think our holiday meal comes from every year?” 

“COSTCO, like God and Uncle Sam intended, right?”

“Ugh, Olivia, your humor changes every year you’re at that College. Don’t be so morose.”

She takes a breath and picks up her eyesore of a bag so that it does not further desecrate the sanctity of the foyer, and makes for the curved staircase just across the pristine hardwood. “I’m just tired from the drive, Mom. I’m going to go upstairs and get settled.”

“Okay, and come downstairs soon! I wanna catch up, okay?”

“Yeah, okay!”

She glances behind her but her Mother is already vanished. Sure, catch up, but not too quick! Releasing her bated breath she lurches up the rest of the stairs. The place is heavily renovated from the home it originally was when her parents bought it. In the beginning they didn’t have much -- well, much compared to what Paula has now -- and so their first nest was a fixer upper. Year after year, corny wallpaper became fresh painted walls, and thick upholstered couches handed down from in-laws became brand new installations from the boutiques downtown. Two additions to the place upgraded it from a modest family home to a wannabe mansion. Olivia grew up in this ever-changing little kingdom of improvements, but only when she was a newly-minted adult did she realize she was one of its fixtures.

The one comfort had always been that her Father dwelled there with her. He brought heart and humanity to the kingdom of objects: his muddy shoes by the front door, not the “mud room.” His fishing rods hung up on the garage rack. His barbeque out in the yard. They weren’t all state-of-the-art, but they were his. But, by now, they, too, were all gone. ‘Improvements’ in every stead, including his.  

Olivia had one sacrosanct place left, and that was her childhood room. Walking down the hall decorated with big, framed portraits of the family -- none of her Father, though, to be sure -- she found her door, the second one to the right in the west hallway. “West” being the original upstairs hallway, the only hallway, before construction added the one referred to as the “East.” She pushed the ajar door open and slid in to see it as she remembered: the bright lavender purple walls strewn with posters, pictures, and a tapestry up behind her bed. The pearly purple carpet smelled of the carpet cleaner, but it did not mask the smell of vanilla she expected. On the opposite wall from the door, her princess bed complete with ivory white canopy was freshly made. Her bedspread was white, with pillows in alternating shades of green and lilac. Years ago she fought endlessly for her Mother to let her paint her room a darker color than the baby pink it was first. Thanks to her Dad, they “compromised” with purple. Sadly, Paula took that as “the lightest shades of purple” and so it was.

In the details, though, there was Olivia’s rebellion. The posters, Paramore, My Chemical Romance, and an old one from a Sheryl Crow concert she found on Amazon, contrasted the brightness with a grit. To the left by her small balcony doors, her vanity mirror and stool were covered with polaroid pictures, concert tickets, movie ticket stubs, and bracelets. She had taken all of her incriminating, “immodest” makeup with her to college, so all that remained were an old bottle of sunscreen, some pastel eyeshadow palettes, and lip glosses. So many lip glosses. 

Olivia dropped her shit in the middle of the floor and made for the reading chair in the far corner, where she collapsed into a curled, reticent ball of conflicted emotions. She predicted this -- she dreaded this -- and now, here she is. The first day is always a test of anxiety, more so than enduring mistreatment. Paula is always good on the first day -- great, sometimes. She is generous, and outgoing, and doesn’t sweat the small stuff. The grueling part comes after the first night ends and she realizes she has to do something with her daughter who isn’t just in for dinner and giggling. That’s when she remembers how she actually feels, and who she actually is. And with no one like Ellinor to buffer and provide excuses for her not standing in one place for too long, it’ll be particularly concentrated. 

She slides limply against the plush chair and closes her eyes. It was a stressful drive full of hasty college kids getting home to their more harmonious families. Olivia was in no rush, though. Three trips through various drive thrus surely added time.

Her phone goes off, and she slips her phone out of her back jean pocket. 

Ellinor: You ready to walk the plank yet?

Smirking, Olivia replies: 

-- I am already keeling over the edge. How is your family?

Ellinor: I nearly did a drop and roll out of Lyssa’s car on the way here, but they’re bearable. They are who they usually are. No surprises, this holiday season! 

-- One of these years we’ll be successful enough to buy everyone therapy for Christmas. 

Ellinor: No shit, I’m making them pay for mine first. 

Olivia is replying when another notification comes up, an instagram like this time, from Maryden. Grinning she taps on it. Maryden finally saw the group pic they all took at the fair: her, Ellinor, Cullen, and then Olivia and Cass in the bottom corner. Olivia had made Cass hold the phone due to height advantage. Her grin expands before it sinks fast. 

Ah, fuck. 

She pulls up her messages again and sees the one Cassandra sent her while she was driving and unable to check. 

Cassandra: Text me when you arrive safe. ❤️

The heart emoji. Olivia’s cheeks turn hot, and she hastily types. 

-- Here in purgatory! 

The sound of a man shouting something, and then laughing, rings from the balcony windows. Fred must be huffing and puffing about something amusing, like meat or guns. She can’t wait for all his odd comments and attempts to “relate” that almost always devolve into him talking about whatever season of sport he’s onto and her nodding along. Poor man. He makes sea sponges seem like sophists. 

Soon after sending, Cassandra replies, an opportunity Olivia doesn’t predict: 

Cassandra: Awesome. my Uncle has stopped us for gas, still about 40 minutes out. 

-- That’s good. Hopefully you won’t get stuck in rush hour. 

Cassandra: My Uncle sucks at navigating traffic, so I wouldn’t bet on it. 

-- Lol

Cassandra: You alright? 

Olivia is sort of surprised by the question and its sensitivity, albeit direct. 

-- Just tired from the drive, that’s all 

Cassandra: You love driving. You would drive the entire stretch of the coast highway without blinking once.

Damn, Cassandra. A bold insight. A correct one, too. 

-- 🤷🏼‍♀️

Five seconds after she hits send, Cassandra calls her. She nearly drops the phone on the floor, and her slack posture goes full vertical. She checks that the door is closed, only to decide to leap, rush, and lock it just in case. Then she hurries to the farthest corner of the room and hits answer right on the last ring. 

“No, Detective, I will not submit to the polygraph.”

Cassandra’s voice rings almost playfully. “Very well, we have other ways of making you talk.”

There’s the hot blush again. “Uh, a-alright, who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?” She hushes a bit, and hopes Cassandra doesn’t notice. 

“Nothing! My Uncle is in the gas station doing who-knows-what, so I’m stuck in here, boot and all.”

“I’m not kidding, I saw that Liam Neeson movie, I know how this goes. I have a special set of skills--”

“What do I have to do? Express my distaste for something? Quote Plato?”

“...It would be reassuring.”

Cassandra laughs coyly, and despite everything, it livens her spirit. She didn’t expect Cassandra to be in so playful a mood traveling back home. She was cool but unhappy about it that morning when they parted ways, entertained only by Olivia’s presence and a strong cup of coffee. Without the ability to drive due to her ankle, her illustrious but mysterious Uncle had to be the one to pick her up and take her back to her family. 

“I was just calling to check in on you.”

“I thought that was what the texting was for,” Olivia replies more curtly than she intends. She gnaws at her bottom lip.

“Sometimes it is worth the extra effort to call.”

“That is very un-millenial of you, you know. Horrifying.”

“Maybe so. Ugh, what is that man doing?” there’s sounds of Cassandra rustling against the leather seat, probably checking in through the window. “Probably searching for that expensive jerky he gets at Trader Joe’s like it will just magically turn up at an ARCO.”

“Who’s to say it won’t? People of all walks of life can enjoy finer things.”

“Yes, but not just the ‘finer’ things,” she then huffs. “Look, I don’t have much time, so if you aren’t in the mood to talk about what is bothering you, I can let you go and we can talk later.”

“I don’t know if I will be able to. My Mom wants to ‘catch up,’ which in her language means I get a hundred questions and the occasional asinine one from Fred.”

“Fred’s your stepfather, right?”

“He’s...my Mother’s husband.”

“I see.”

She mulls her teeth and looks around aimlessly. Cassandra goes ‘hm’ but nothing else. 

“How are you able to talk so much?” Olivia asks, diverting the subject. “Aren’t you worried your family will pry?”

“The good thing about holidays in my family is there are so many people around, you can get a great deal of private time if you are smart enough. Which is exactly what I intend to do. Ugh...he...oh, sorry. I thought my Uncle was coming back, but it was just another man.”

“Yeah, but you said they have superhuman abilities for nosiness.”

“They do. And I have superhuman talents of evasion. They’ll peck and prod about the ankle boot, though. Usually I can slip away to the gym or for a run to get away from them but...of course...can’t do that. Doctors don’t trust me to set foot in a weight room and it’s been weeks since my injury.”

“Cass, it’s been two weeks, almost precisely.”

“I said weeks, didn’t I? Look, overextending is not the same as knowing my limits. They’re the medical professionals, but they don’t live in this body 24/7.”

Olivia grimaces with sympathy, though she can’t say she agrees given how easy it is for Cassandra to throw herself into things without caution. “Uh huh.”

“Ugh, forgive me. I won’t be able to talk everyday, but I would like to try sometimes, okay? I promise it won’t all be about my messed up ankle.”

Olivia smirks. “You’re being very…”

“Very…what?”

Olivia stalls. Is it an asshole thing to do, saying your girlfriend is being more sensitive and caring than usual? Maybe not “more,” but in a different way. An unusual way. She could have really taken Olivia’s hurt feelings over how she acted about her injury. She could be really trying. But now, in the lion’s den, Olivia’s unsure about whether the timing of it is...well, ideal. 

“Nevermind, I lost my train of thought,” she excuses. “I appreciate you.”

“It’s no trouble. Now, I think my Uncle is coming back. Ugh, he got a whole bag of things...probably for me. Seeing me with my boot triggered his overprotective nerve extra hard.”

“Oh, no, sour patch kids! The torture!” Olivia teases. An ounce of her regular self bleeds through. 

“Very funny. I will text you later. Be safe, alright?”

“Alright. You, too.” She then remembers and slips it in before they hang up: “L-let me know when you get home, too, okay?”

“...O-okay.” There’s a pause, the kind of awkward pause when the thing you say -- the particular thing -- happens. But since they aren’t there yet, it’s full of pause and anxiety. 

“Okay,” Olivia takes her turn to smooth it over. “Bye!”

“Bye.”

Hanging up kills the feeling of safety. She looks into the big oval mirror at her dresser vanity and watches her grin crack, then disappear all-together. The scene in her reflected surroundings loses its luster. Even with all the impossibilities, she kind of wishes Cassandra was with her. It almost makes her laugh at herself: what, would she have driven up with her in the passenger’s seat, hear “hey baby cakes!” and smile, saying “hey Mom, here’s my girlfriend! You’re suddenly not biphobic, right? Oh and by the way she’s a Pentaghast, so, there’s that!” and they all retire to the sitting room for tea and introductions. Right. 

She turns and sees her unpacked bags, her only company. She rubs her forehead slowly with the back of her hand. She has experience being left to her own devices with her Mother. Hell, she has a lifetime of it with her. A long weekend won’t be anything particularly gruesome, and if it is, well, she’s survived them before.  

Fifteen minutes later she has everything organized and put away -- she won’t unpack much, anyway. A quick change into some leggings and a t-shirt, a toss of her hair into a ponytail, and she’s ready to face the music. She’s careful to shut her bedroom door before she descends down the hall and the stairs, betting that her Mother is out in the yard on one of the lounge chairs. She finds her there, indeed lounging, with that missing cocktail restored to her.

Unmoved but always observant, her Mother inquires: “Settled in?” 

Olivia puts on her best polite grin and sits down on the lounge chair five feet away. On the grass, Fred is dressed in pastel blue polo and cargo shorts like the overgrown fraternity pledge he is, throwing a frisbee for Nemo. Nemo, the 10 year old yellow lab, who can scarcely go up the stairs without being winded these days. Too bad for Fred the minute Olivia shows herself, the grey-faced dog bounds in his own way over to the long last playmate.

“Nemo! You little prince!” she smiles, crouching down to embrace him. His tail is wagging a million miles per hour, and he fills her face with old dog breath. His tickling gets her to finally laugh. 

“Good grief,” she hears her Mom say, “Olivia, don’t let him lick your mouth!”

“I’m fine!” she says through her giggles, rubbing his chest and back as she stands upright. “It won’t kill me.”

“Ugh.”

That joy was short lived. She returns to the chair she chose and does her best to make as little eye contact as possible as she sits and sprawls her legs out. Nemo follows circles around her, tail still going.

“Do we know what the plans are for Thanksgiving?” Olivia asks, expecting the same answer as always. Dinner at home with Fred’s relatives and those in Mom’s family who she isn’t on the outs with, all above the age of 35 for the most part, and vote like it. Another dinner she’ll have to dress way too modestly and matronly for her age in order to fit in for the group photo.

“Well, that is what I wanted to surprise you with,” Paula answers. 

Olivia side-eyes her Mom, and delays opening up her phone to scroll through Twitter. “What?”

“We will be having dinner with the family as always, but earlier this week we received a surprise invitation for us to attend a holiday party later on this weekend.”

“You aren’t going to spend the holiday campaigning, are you?” 

“‘Campaigning’ has a broad definition, Olivia, and it is never a bad idea to become more familiar with one’s community constituents.”

Olivia frowns and resumes scrolling. Great, likely another fundraiser or gala, not something substantially humble like volunteering time with those genuinely in need, who are also her “constituents.” She saved the label for those she could depend on to write a donation check -- the other 80% of society barely existed. 

“I assume then you are expecting me to go?”

There’s a sound of Paula’s magazine of choice turning a page. “What do you think the surprise was?”

“That as much as you would like me to come, that you respect my choice not to so that I can have a quiet, restful weekend at home before Finals are in full swing?”

No response for going out on that limb. The proverbial crickets chirp, and Olivia knows her point was deliberately missed. 

“Or,” she corrects herself, “that you want me to go.”

“Yes, silly girl. And for your information, even if I didn’t want you to come, the invitation specifically noted you.”

“P-pardon me?” She looks up.

Paula shakes her head and smiles. “When were you going to tell me you were making friends with the Pentaghast family?”

“I...I-I’m not!”

“You must be, there was a handwritten note in the card, your name and all.”

Olivia can feel a stroke coming on. The heat of the day now feels like a vise around her throat, a semi-truck on her chest. She jerks up and turns to look at her Mother dead on, who is still flipping through her latest issue of Vogue, sunglasses and sunhat and all. 

“So...so they wrote me in? Me, specifically?”

“Yes, that is what I said! Goodness, calm down, you’ll give yourself a heat stroke.” 

Too late. “Why? Aren’t they one of the big blue families? Why would they want to invite y--”

“Are you insinuating that I do not belong in a bipartisan space? Olivia, I work in one for a living. This whole business of networking is par for the course. In fact, it is a long time coming. The Pentaghasts should be taking the ‘other side’ more seriously. I have been in this town’s political realm for seven years, now. They cannot always hide behind their old money and liberal hypocrisy of “inclusion.””

There is that rhetorical savvy and venom. Quintessentially Paula. Olivia falls back on the lounge chair and stares out into the lawn, mouth open and words lost. Where to begin? Hey, Mom, don’t think so highly of yourself, they’re only inviting you to get to me! Because they want to sniff me out as one of their many daughters’ lovers! You’re full of shit!

“Do I have to go? I am serious about wanting rest. This semester has been a lot, an--”

“A semester that I paid for,” Paula cut in, turning yet another page. “It is restful to be with your family. You should consider yourself lucky, Olivia, that spending time with us is so comfortable. You have this nice home to come back to, and good people to spend time with, and beautiful parties to go to. A girl your age in a lesser position would claw someone’s eyes out for the chance to live the life you get to. Is it so really so demanding?”

The shots to the gut have started early. So much for the easy first day. She wishes even more she could pop her Mother’s balloon, but it would mean ultimate disaster for her in the end. Out in the open Fred is still trying to get Nemo to chase the damn frisbee, clearly aware that he should stay away from the two debating blondes. Olivia rolls her lips shut and tries her hardest to swallow the hunk of pride at the back of her throat, but there’s no room in her stomach. It’s completely filled to the top with anxiety about what it means to be going to this party. 

Then it hits her: Cassandra is going to shoot through the roof. 

“Fine, Mom. I’ll go.” The clock then starts ticking for her to find a covert way out of it beforehand. She’s dove deep into her head, and only catches half of her Mother’s pleased response. 

“--something classy, the party is black tie optional.”

“Okay.”

“I also have an appointment for us to get our nails done tomorrow at 11, so do not sleep in too much.”

Oh for fuck’s sake. She does another fake smile as she pulls up her messages on her phone in order to deploy the distress signal: 

-- Change of plan, I need you to call me as soon as you are able. Your family sent an invitation to mine for their big party this weekend. My Mom is insisting we go. Code red. 

[triptychexe]

TITLE: Initiation  SUMMARY: The Trivium members receive ‘initiation’ by S.O.T and Tromme and complete three tasks in one night.

GENRE: Friendship, humor ig PAIRING: OT9, R3D OT3, BLU3 OT3, Y3LLOW OT3. WORD COUNT: 3.k WARNINGS: Swearing, initiation process (but no one gets hurt) A/N: this is the longest thing i’ve written for triptych lmao. i was thinking of breaking it up into parts but whatever. if you read the whole thing, thank you!! i hope you enjoy!

“I am not participating.” Ura frowned, crossing her arms defiantly. “I just won’t show up. If they want me there, they’re going to have to pry me from by bed.”

Van gave Ura a pout. “C’mon, they can’t do anything too bad. They’re our friends, they just want to have some fun to celebrate our debut.”  “We all know that the only reason why they’re doing this to us is because Cal is annoying and they want an excuse to bully him.” Ura rolled her eyes. 

“Hey,” Cal frowned.

Ura scoffed, ignoring Cal’s protesting whine. “It’s a little childish, don’t you think?”  “I think you’re being a little... adultish.” Cal fumbled the fake work, his eyebrows knitting together for a second of confusion before continuing. “Plus if they’re going to roll me in honey and feathers, don’t you wanna be there to point and laugh at me?” 

Ura sighed, unraveling her crossed arms. The two older groups invited them to an ‘initiation’ night at the boy’s dorm this evening after Trivium got back from their last activities for promotion. Ura thought it was bullshit, especially when she knows that neither S.O.T or Tromme have ever gone through initiation themselves. However, Van and Cal seemed to think of this as a great team bonding opportunity. Even though she didn’t want to be made a fool of in front of her new members, she also wanted to be there in case she needed to intervene to save her friends from bodily harm. 

“Fine." Ura grunted. “I’ll go.” 

Teo lit the last candle, shaking out the match. Around the boy’s living room were dozens of candles. The other six members sat in a semi circle in front of Trivium, all with blankets draped over their heads and shoulders. 

Ura shifted uncomfortably, watching as Teo took his seat on the edge of the semi-circle, right next to Asa. 

“Trivium,” Eli spoke, raising his hands. “You have completed your debut promotions successfully, ringing in new fans and opportunities for the group and the company. Even though these are great and appreciated accomplishments, you still have to pass initiation in order to be accepted by us, the founders.”

“The founders? We’re just as much of ‘founders’ as you are.” Ura arched a skeptical eyebrow. Eli lowered his hands slightly, not expecting the opposition to his statement.

Zim pushed her blanket away from her eyes. “Just go with it, Ura. We’re aiming for dramatic, not accurate.” 

Ura rolled her eyes. ‘Dramatic not accurate’ might as well have been Triptych’s whole concept. 

Eli continued, raising his hands back to their original height.  “We have called upon the Kpop Gods to help us find the proper trials. First, you will do The Crawl to judge your strength. Then we will do The Beam of Balance, to test your agility. Then we will preform The Heist as a group, to test our compatibility.” 

“Do you accept your challenge?” Yen asked, a grin under her hood.

The Crawl was kind of stupid, if you ask Ura. 

The members had gathered their electronic wires and shoe laces and taped the ends of them to the walls in the hallway. You had to crawl on your stomach under the wires and string and get to the other side. The obstacle? The other members of Triptych were standing in the doorways of bedrooms with handfuls of flour, ready to pelt you with the white powder as soon as you got close enough. 

The first trial was over and done with after about ten minutes. Van took the shortest amount of time, only taking about a minute to get through. Ura took about three, because she kept stopping to blink flour from her eyes. Cal took roughly six minutes because he managed to wrap a cable around his neck and needed Teo to unravel it for him. 

Covered in flour and dust from the floor, the second trial began. The members had brought up two boxes and one wooden plank (that Asa said they found behind the company building after practice). The goal was to see how many ‘original’ members you could knock off the balance beam using brooms to throw their balance off.

Ura actually enjoyed this round. She was easily the one to beat out of all of Trivium. Van let Yen knock him over in the first round, earning him a collective boo for refusing to play rough with a girl. Cal was decent until Nia got on the beam and knocked him over with one good shove. Ura managed to knock down almost everyone, except for Eli, who was the last person she had to face. 

The nine members collected themselves, shaking hands and resolving faux arguments about the fairness of the game. When they all calmed down, it was time to start the final round: The Heist. 

Ura thought it would be another game, but she was gravely mistaken. When Triptych said a heist, they really meant it. 

“We’re all going to split up into our designated color teams and sneak into the company to find some sacred HBH objects. Yellow team,” Eli announced, looking at Zim and Van. “The three of us will be stealing... Hak Bonghwa’s travel mug.”  “The one with the frogs on it?” Zim clarified.  “That’s the one.” Eli confirmed.  “Easy.” Zim nodded.

“Blue team,” Eli turned to Asa, Yen, and Cal. “You will be stealing... HBH producer LeeBoi’s Supreme sweatshirt!”  Asa, Yen, and Cal wrapped their arms around each other’s shoulders, uniting as a team.

“Red team,” Eli addressed, turning to Nia, Teo, and Ura. “You’ll be stealing... Vice’s First Win trophy.”

“Wait, why do we get the most difficult one?” Teo complained.  “Just admit you’re scared of Vice and don’t want to upset them.” Asa teased. “I am not-” Teo started to protest.

“The items have been chosen from the Kpop Gods. We cannot change them.” Eli said dramatically. “The first team to collect their item and bring it back here wins!” 

The corporate floor was eerily quiet at night. Van has only been called up here a few times. Once to go over his trainee contract and the other to sign his idol contract with Hak Bonghwa. 

Moonlight filtered through the large floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows of the three idol’s figures as they inched closer and closer to Bonghwa’s office. 

“What are the chances that he left it unlocked?” Van asked. “High. He trusts all his workers a little too much.” Zim responded in a hushed tone.

They reached the office, which was completely dark except for the light emitting from the city lights outside. Eli reached for the door handle with his sweatshirt over his fingers, careful not to leave any finger prints. Just as they suspected, the door opened.

“Alright.” Eli straightened up. “We just got to grab the mug and we’re out of here. He probably has it in his mini fridge under his desk.”  Van furrowed his eyebrows. “How’d you know that?”  “He always makes himself an coffee before he goes home. He chills it over night in his minifridge so he has a coffee first thing when he gets to the office.” Eli shrugged. “He told me all about it when I was early for practice last week.” 

The three idols made their way to Hak Bonghwa’s desk where the minifridge was concealed. When they ducked down to open the fridge, they were met by a small round face peering up at them.

“AH! CHILD!” Zim yelled, jumping backwards.  “Shh!” The child pressed a finger to his lips. “Who the hell are you?” Eli asked, his eyes wide.  “Hak Donghyun.” The boy responded matter-of-factly. “Who the hell are you?”  “Language.” Eli stuck an accusing finger out to the child. “Aren’t you Hak Bonghwa’s kid?” Van asked, crouching down to the child’s level. From under the desk, Van could see that the kid set up a small campsite of blankets, video games, and mini snacks from the vending machines.  “Yup.” Donghyun grinned. “You’re not supposed to be here.”  “Neither are you.” Zim reminded him. “How did you get in here?”  Donghyun pointed to the ceiling. The trio looked up to see a vent with the grate pushed aside.  “I know all the vents. It’s helpful. You should learn them too.” Donghyun shrugged. “Anyways, my dad’s travel mug is in the fridge. Don’t touch my Gatorade supply or I’ll tell on you.” 

The three idols looked between each other in disbelief, but were careful not to touch the kid’s Gatorade as they removed the frog-print travel mug from the minifridge.  “Thanks, Donghyun.” Van said to the kid, who was now engrossed in a video game.  “I want a signed album, though.” Donghyun looked up from his video game. “If I don’t get one by tomorrow, I’ll tell everyone you broke in and that you swore at me.”  “I didn’t swear-” Eli’s eyebrows furrowed. “Deal.” Van cut his friend off. “We’ll see you tomorrow Donghyun. Have a fun night.”  “Thanks. You too.” Donghyun grinned, resuming his game as the three idols left his father’s office. 

“Where the fuck is it?” Yen hissed, checking behind the studio’s sofa. “Don’t tell me his musty ass finally decided to take it home to clean it.” 

“Hey, Mi, relax, there’s no way LeeBoi would do laundry, that’s way too out of character.” Asa soothed his friend, coming out of the recording booth empty handed. “If it’s not in here, it’s gotta be in a locker somewhere.” 

“A locker? There’s hundreds of lockers in this damn building!” Yen complained. 

“We can split up?” Cal suggested. Both Yen and Asa frowned at him.  “No, we should stay together. The whole point of this exercise is to build bonds with each other.” Asa reasoned.  “I think the ‘whole point’ has changed to who can come in first place.” Yen disagreed, crossing her arms. "I don’t want to split up, but I also don’t want to lose to Eli. He’ll brag about it for ages.” 

“Alright, so how do you wanna go about this?” Asa questioned.  “I mean, isn’t the trainee floor off limits to anyone without a trainee ID?” Cal wondered. “So LeeBoi’s sweatshirt must be in a locker on the main practice room floor.” 

“And knowing him, he’d probably want to take the least amount of time getting from The Dungeons to the locker. So he’s probably stored it somewhere on the third floor.” Yen hypothesized.  “And LeeBoi is a pretty predicable person.” Asa nodded in agreement. “Alright, to the third floor we go.” 

The trio entered the boys locker room and started opening up all the unlocked lockers. No sign of the producer’s sweatshirt. Yen was starting to get frustrated now. She flopped herself down on one of the benches and rubbed her temples.

“I can’t believe we’re going to lose to everyone. We’re even losing to Nia... Moon Yerin! This is the worst day of my life.” Yen complained melodramatically. Asa sat next to her and tried to make her feel better by cracking dumb jokes and rubbing her shoulder. Cal felt like he was intruding on a personal moment, as he felt every time Asa and Yen drifted off in their own little world like this. Feeling awkward just standing there, he took one last walk around the lockers. 

Suddenly, something very strong hit his nostrils. The obnoxious cologne scent wafted into his lungs, making him gag a little. He back tracked his steps and breathed deeply. Coming from a locked locker was the unmistakable smell of LeeBoi. 

“No way... Guys!” Cal exclaimed over his shoulder at the pair. “I think it’s in this locker... come smell it!” 

Asa and Yen came over, pressing their noses against the metal grates in the locker door.  “Holy shit, that’s gotta be it.” Yen’s eyes widened, her waterline tearing up from the stench.   “But how are we gonna open the lock?” Asa questioned.

Cal’s eyes fluttered to Yen’s hairstyle; a high-risen slicked back ponytail. Yen backed away.  “We’re not using my head as a battering ram.” She said sternly. “What?” Cal furrowed his eyebrows. “Bro, no. Do you have a bobby pin?” 

The two gave Cal space as he worked on the lock with Micha’s bobby pin. After about three minutes, the lock finally popped open.  “Dude, that was kinda hot.” Asa said under his breath in amazement.  “How did you learn to do that?” Yen asked as Cal removed the lock. “I lived in London.” Cal simply shrugged. “That’s a little cryptic, but okay.” Yen blinked, opting out on asking more questions. 

Inside the locker was the Supreme sweatshirt they’ve been searching for in all it’s smelly glory. Cal took it out with two pinched fingers, holding it away from him. 

“Alright, let’s dip. I don’t wanna hold this sweatshirt for longer than necessary.” Cal suggested. The trio silently agreed and fled the locker room, barreling towards the elevators. 

“We’re dead, we’re dead,” Teo muttered under his breath like a mantra. Ura gritted her teeth, fighting the urge to tell her group mate to be quiet. Thankfully, she didn’t have to. “Injung, chill. We’re just going to run in and then out.” Nia said, trying to sound calm. 

Ura wasn’t really sure why her teammates were so worked up about breaking into Cyth’s recording studio. After looking around the trophy case in the main hall and realizing that Vice’s First Win was not there, they knew there was no where else it could be besides Cyth’s studio in the basement.

Ura let them lead the way, knowing that both of them wanted control over this situation. She didn’t mind going with the flow. There was nothing to worry about anyways-

“What are you three doing?” 

The three Triptych members turned around. Walking towards them was Cyth, a coffee in his hand. He arched an eyebrow at them, taking the straw of his coffee into his mouth. “Not trying to break in, are you?” 

Teo let out an anxious chuckle, instantly straightening himself up. “Haha, what? No. We wouldn’t do that.”  Cyth looked between the three of them, taking a gulp of his drink. Then he let out a sigh and shook his head in disappointment. “I can’t believe it. I’m the worst senior ever. I never taught you guys how to properly sneak around the company after hours.” Cyth gestured to Nia with his coffee.  “Your whole form was completely off. Your body was so tense, it gave the guilt away.” The rapper turned to Teo. “And you... what was that pained laugh, bro? I thought you only reserved that for the unfunny jokes Minho tells at company gatherings. That hurt.”  Teo looked guilty, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

“The only one who didn’t look guilty was Chiayu.” Cyth gestured to the youngest member. “What are you guys trying to swipe?” 

“Your First Win Trophy.” Ura responded.  “Ura, don’t tell him that-” Teo started to scold. “Take it.” Cyth shrugged, walking past them to open his studio door for them. The pair followed him inside, watching as he reached up and brought down the first place trophy from a shelf above his set up. 

“How long are you guys going to need it?” Cyth asked, handing it to Ura.  “Only for the night. We’ll return it tomorrow.” Ura responded. “Can I ask what for?” Cyth wondered.  “We’re doing initiation for Trivium.” Ura answered, ignoring Nia and Teo’s warning glances.

Cyth chuckled. “Damn, you guys are really doing the most. In that case, tell them Ura had to sneak into the studio while you guys distracted me.” Cyth said to Teo and Nia. “Make your maknae look good in front of the others.” 

Ura grinned at her two members, who looked a little awestruck. She couldn’t enjoy the satisfying moment, however, because her eye caught the clock hanging above Cyth’s door.  “Shit, it’s almost two! We gotta get back to the dorm.” She swore. Ura turned to her senior one more time.  “Thanks for helping.” Ura nodded. “Hey, no worries, it’s all in a day’s work, being the best senior and all.” Cyth winked.

“The Kpop Gods have spoken... and the winners are...” Eli motioned for the rest of the members to create a drum roll. Everyone banged their hands against the floor.

“Team Red!” Eli cheered. Nia, Teo, and Ura wrapped their arms around each other, a victorious smile on their faces.

“No fair, we would have won if Ura didn’t side check me in the hallway!” Yen complained, showing the rug burn on her kneecap. “Isn’t that a violation of the rules?”  “We never said no to inflicting rug burns.” Nia grinned smuggly. “We won, fair and square.” 

“What do we win?” Ura asked curiously. 

“You win...” Eli motioned for another round of drum rolls.  “A free from chores coupon! You won’t have to do chores in your dorms for the next month!” Eli cheered, holding up three post-it notes with “FREE FROM CHORES - ONE MONTH - ONE TIME USE” written on them. He handed them to each member of Team Red. 

“Well, this was exciting.” Nia smiled, standing up from her spot on the ground. “But we also have practice at 10am and it’s almost four now. I suggest we all get some sleep before practice.” 

The members all groaned, but they rose to their feet as well. Everyone exchanged hugs and good nights before the girls left the boys dorm, heading across the hall to their own dorm. 

Ura and Yen entered their shared bedroom, preparing for bed. While they were changing, Ura cleared her throat.  “Hey, I’m sorry about shoving you.” She apologized. Yen grinned, shaking her head. “Don’t be. It made the game spicy.”  “Spicy?” Ura frowned, not understanding her friend’s use of slang. Yen shook her head. “Give it a couple of weeks and you’ll be talking like me too.” Yen promised. “All my friends do eventually.” 

With the promise of finally belonging, Ura was able to drift off peacefully that night, thanking herself for agreeing to partake in initiation after all. 

[thetwins-enchantedpen]

Musical Songs Post: Part 3

Julian, Hisoka, Albano and Aurelio

Part 1: Fernando, Everado, Valentino

Part 2: Emily, Destina, Rosa

Part 3: Julian, Hisoka, Aurelio, Albano

Julian

Candy Store - Heathers

You can join the team

Or you can bitch and moan

You can live the dream

Or you can die alone

You can fly with eagles

Or if you prefer

Keep on testing me

And end up like her

Wait For It - Hamilton

I am the one thing in life I can control

I am inimitable

I am an original

I'm not falling behind or running late

I'm not standing still

I am lying in wait

In This Corner - Kinky Boots

Hit him in his big mouth!

Hit him in his insecurity, yeah!

Hit him off his high horse!

Hit him so everyone can see

Heaven on Their Minds - Jesus Christ Superstar

Listen, Jesus, do you care for your race?

Don't you see we must keep in our place?

We are occupied; have you forgotten how put down we are?

I am frightened by the crowd

For we are getting much too loud

And they'll crush us if we go too far

If we go too far

Damned For All Time - Jesus Christ Superstar

Now, if I help you, it matters that you see

These sordid kind of things are coming hard to me

It's taken me some time to work out what to do

I weighed the whole thing up before I came to you

I have not thought at all about my own reward

I really didn't come here of my own accord

Just don't say I'm

Damned for all time

When Love Comes - Death Note

Finally there's someone to cry for

Someone I would gladly die for

Someone who is all the way alive

Can't believe the peace I'm feeling

Almost like it can't be real

Even if I die, love will survive

Funny the things the human heart will put you through

Don't see it coming till it's standing right in front of you

Satisfied - Hamilton

But when I fantasize at night it's Alexander's eyes

As I romanticize what might have been if I hadn't sized him up so quickly

At least my dear Eliza's his wife

At least I keep his eyes in my life

To the groom

To the bride

From your sister

Who is always by your side

To your union

And the hope that you provide

May you always

Be satisfied

And I know

She'll be happy as his bride

And I know

He will never be satisfied

I will never be satisfied

Hisoka

If You Want To Die In Bed - Miss Saigon

If you want to die in bed

Follow my example

When you see a cloud ahead

It's time to show your class

Hit the door before

They make a target of your ass

If you want to die in bed

In times of revolution

When the flag they fly is red

Let pride fill up your chest

What a Waste - Miss Saigon

What a waste!

To pay for my keep

I'm rounding up sheep

To fleece here in Bangkok

I'm disgraced

I can't get ahead

There's nothing as dead

As peace here in Bangkok

Ten cents an hour, that's the most they pay

I'll have to swim to the USA

If you're looking for fun

Original sin

If you want to put out

Then you gotta come in

Washington On Your Side - Hamilton

If we don’t stop it we aid and abet it

I have to resign

Somebody has to stand up for the South

Somebody has to stand up to his mouth

If there’s a fire you’re trying to douse

You can’t put it out from inside the house

I’m in the cabinet, I am complicit in

Watching him grabbin’ at power and kiss it

If Washington isn’t gon’ listen

To disciplined dissidents, this is the difference

This kid is out!

What'd I Miss - Hamilton

What'd I miss?

What'd I miss?

Headfirst into a political abyss!

I have my first cabinet meeting today

I guess I better think of something to say

I'm already on my way

To get to the bottom of this

You Gotta Die Sometime - Falsettos

Let's get on with living while we can

And not play dumb

Death's gonna come

When it does, screw the nerves

I'll be eating hors d'oeuvres

It's the roll of the dice and no crime

You gotta die sometime

Reviewing The Situation - Oliver!

A man's got a heart, hasn't he?

Joking apart, hasn't he?

And tho' I'd be the first one to say that I wasn't a saint

I'm finding it hard to be really as black as they paint

I'm reviewing the situation

Can a fellow be a villain all his life?

All the trials and tribulations!

Potiphar - Joseph

Potiphar had very few cares

He was one of Egypt's millionaires

Having made a fortune buying shares in

Pyramids

Potiphar had made a huge pile

Owned a large percentage of the Nile

(Meant that I could really live in style)

And he did

Aurelio

This Wall in my Head - Everybody's Talking About Jamie

Just one tiny thought

It started out so small

The thought made a brick

The bricks made a wall

And the wall keeps me down

And the wall trips me up

And it keeps building and building and building

This wall in my head

This wall in my head

Lifeboat - Heathers

Everyone's pushing

Everyone's fighting

Storms are approaching

There's nowhere to hide

If I say the wrong thing

Or I wear the wrong outfit

They'll throw me right over the side

History of Wrong Guys - Kinky Boots

The history of wrong guys:

Chapter one - he's a bum

Two - he's not into you

Three - he's a sleaze

Four - loves the girl next door

Five - loves the boy next door

Six - don't love you no more

- Makes you insecure

- Makes you so unsure

- Is so immature

- Loves his mother more

- Or...

... has a girlfriend named Nicola

Take What You Got - Kinky Boots

You can't move on if you're still in the past

You've gotta take what you've got

Even when your life is in knots

You take aim, take your shot

Sometimes you've gotta rewrite the plot

You've gotta take what you got

Not My Father's Son - Kinky Boots

I'm not my father's son

I'm not the image of what he dreamed of

With the strength of Sparta and the patience of Job

Still couldn't be the one

To echo what he'd done

And mirror what was not in me

The endless story of expectations swirling inside my mind

Wore me down

I came to a realization and I finally turned around

To see

That I could just be me

What I Know Now - Beetlejuice

If I knew then

What I know now

I would've crossed every line

And drank all the wine

Before my final bow

If I knew

The things that now I know

I would ride the highs and cherish the lows

Knowing it's a quick trip 'round the rodeo

So before they lower the curtain, be certain to enjoy the show

That's what I know!

Albano

Any Way The Wind Blows - Hadestown

People turn on you just like the wind

Everybody is a fair weather friend

In the end, you're better off alone

Any way the wind blows

The Game Begins - Death Note

The calculus of a solution

While changing, stays the same

The stronger mind and evolution

Determine who wins the game

I poke and prod to find a weakness

Where the bend becomes the break

[controloffandoms]

Numb (D.W.)

Prompt: Just something that came to mind. Reader is part of the Super Fam. Older Damian Wayne.

Pairing: Older!Damian Wayne x Super!Reader, Dick Grayson x platonic!reader

Words: 5870

Warnings: Cursing, violence (lots of violence for a little bit), Deaf reader at one point, emotionally vacant reader

Notes: This just kind of happened. There may be another part, but this is where I felt this part ended.

Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5

You slowly rose from your bed. You had gotten in around four that morning and had to be at work by seven...unless there was a crisis that you needed to stop that involved you getting snapshots of Krypton as she fought against whomever decided to become the villain of the morning. Then, you could tell your boss you were late because you were getting some action shots of Bludhaven’s favorite hero-though Dick Grayson would challenge you on that fact. 

You would think a Super as yourself would be in Metropolis or another city close to it, but you would be wrong. You wanted to be independent of your father’s influence and your other siblings. You needed to make your own name. So, your father, Clark Kent, had reached out to Bludhaven Global Journal and had allowed you to further your career as a journalist without having to live up to the expectations of the Daily Planet since your parents were Clark and Lois, two famed journalists. After much debate, you decided to take the out and transfer to Bludhaven. That had been the best decision to make. 

Last night you and Dick, as Krypton and Nightwing, had taken on Bane and Blockbuster who were teaming up to take Bludhaven before moving onto Gotham. Bane had been working on the Gotham end while Blockbuster had worked on Bludhaven. Last minute, Bane had joined the fight and your found yourself between a rock and a hard place. Why, you ask, does that put you in a pickle? While you are part Kryptonian, you didn’t get all of the powers your dad had...or Jon had...you didn’t even have the best attributes like Connor did. Sure, you can fly, you have heat vision, super hearing and strength. You do not have cold breath, X-Ray vision, or superspeed. The worst part was that you didn’t even have the invulnerability. You get bruised and cut like Dick does after a rough battle. While it takes more force to break bones, that’s also a possibility-especially when fighting Blockbuster and Bane. 

You and Dick had stood back to back, taking in the new scene and information. Needless to say, your ached all over and were grateful that Dick was able to find the information you both needed to stop their operation in its tracks. While he had been off on a search of information, you had taken on the two powerhouses. Let’s just say that by the time Dick had the information, you were overpowered and running out of energy. 

You stumbled into the bathroom and started your morning routine. A short, but relaxing shower followed by applying makeup to your bruises and cuts so no one at work could ask about your after-shift activities. You checked everything in the mirror before exiting your room and walking to the kitchen where Dick was just setting out a warm breakfast with coffee while taking a face-time from Bruce. 

Dick’s eleven years older than you (as you were Damian’s age) and had taken it upon himself to watch out for you in Bludhaven. After you had accepted your position at BGJ, you had been called by Grayson telling you that he had lots of extra space in his penthouse that he would be willing to rent out to you. He knew the only way that you would accept the offer is if you worked for the space. He had been right, and you couldn’t thank him enough. It was nice not being all alone in a new city at the beginning. As the months went on, it was just nice to come home to someone who knew your nightly activities and understood both the mundane and super things. 

Dick sat next to your at the bar, leaning the phone on the popsocket to get both of you in the picture and freeing his hands so he could eat. “Morning Bruce,” you mumble, not yet completely awake. 

“Morning. Tell me what you experienced last night,” the frame shifted as Damian joined the picture. 

“TT, they did a number on your face, (Y/N),” Damian sighed. 

“Thanks for the update,” you rolled your eyes. “I had my suspicions after having overheard a conversation Blockbuster was having with someone on the phone before Dick showed up last night. No names were mentioned but they were talking about a ‘shipment’ that would cripple both Gotham and Bludhaven. They wanted to take out the vigilanties and take over the cities and make them in their own image. After the call ended, Blockbuster met with Tarantula. Tarantula was in charge of the shipment and was given coded directions that I still haven’t been able to decode. Whatever this ‘shipment’ is, I believe we better get ahead of it before they have a chance to use it against us. I’ll keep on trying to decode the message after I get to work today.”

“The information I downloaded and deleted from their computers seemed to cripple the operation for the time being. I think that they have something to do with the shipment that (Y/N) was talking about. She gave me a copy of the coded directions and I’m going to see if I can get anything from looking at that and the files. I’ll make it my primary case today. From the information I got several warehouses in Gotham, I’ve sent the information over to you for you both to look into. Be careful, in case the Gotham end is more prepared than ours,” Dick took a gulp of coffee.

“I will grab Drake, Todd, and Brown. We’ll go look into the warehouses. I will let you know of our findings,” Damien nodded. 

“I did my own recon last night while Bane was still in Gotham. He was meeting with Joker, Harley, Penguin, Two-Face, and Riddler. I wasn’t able to get much information out of the conversation, but they were talking of the operation taking place in the next two weeks. Depending on if all of the information you gathered transfers over to the Gotham operation, you could have set them back as well. I want us all to be on our toes. I also believe that if Bane was meeting with five other villains that your operation is bigger than just Blockbuster and Tarantula,” Bruce sighed, looking up as a knock sounded on his door. “I don’t want either of you patrolling on your own, that goes for you as well Damian. We’ll talk more later. Be safe.” 

The video ended and you stretched as you stood to take your dirty dishes to the sink. “Damian was right, Bane and Blockbuster did a number on your last night. Maybe you should call out today.”

You turned sharply, ignoring the pull of multiple cuts on your stomach. “I am a powerful Kryptonian, I do not need to take ‘sick days’. I will apply more makeup and be on my way. Stay safe on the job today, Dick. I’d hate to have to take an early break to save your ass because you can’t reveal to your partner that you’re Nightwing,” you stalked off to finish getting ready for work. 

Don’t misunderstand, you love Dick Grayson. He’s like a big brother to you, a big brother that you never got, being the oldest in the Kent clan. At twenty-three, you’re still headstrong and willing to push every ache behind in order to get the job done and seem normal. You had been the first one that Clark had to teach to control your super strength, dial down your hearing, control your heat vision when you were angry. You had been the trial run. Hell, you were the reason that they slowly tested Jon’s abilities just in case he was like you, with penetrable skin. After realizing you weren’t bullet proof, it took your father almost a whole year to let you patrol again. 

You stepped into the living room of the penthouse, seeing Dick grabbing his keys. You sighed quietly and walked over to him. “Thank you for being concerned, but I know my limits. I’ll leave work early if I’m not feeling well. Don’t do anything stupid today, Detective Grayson,” you hugged him. He wrapped you in gentle but firm arms. 

“I know you do, but you’re my little sister (Y/N/N). I worry. I promise no stupidity today as long as you do the same,” he released you, giving you a look. 

“Scouts honor,” you smirked and grabbed your own set of keys. You both parted once you got to the car garage. 

_____________

You looked up as a shadow cast over your workspace. “Kent, we need to talk.” You rose an eyebrow at Damian and stood. 

“I need to tell my boss that I’m not feeling too well and will be taking the rest of the day off,” you state as you grab your things. After he was informed, you and Damian began the walk to the parking garage. “What’s this about, Mr. Wayne,” you asked. Since you were in public, you were treating him as if he was in on your next story. An informant or professional expert on what your next article was going to be. 

He opened the passenger door of his car and closed it behind you before joining you in the car. “We have time sensitive information on Blockbuster and Bane’s operation. It’s even bigger than we thought. We’re meeting everyone back at Grayson’s penthouse.”

You nodded and stared out the window before turning to look at Damian as he drove. His chiseled cheeks, his broad shoulders, the muscles rippling beneath the tailored suit he wore. His eyes turned to you briefly, but you didn’t turn away. “It’s been a while,” you casually stated.

“I know. Next time I’ll come for a social visit. Or you could come to Gotham, either way. We haven’t spent time together since you got your job eight months ago,” A small smile was present on his face. 

“You still see Jon almost every week,” you asked.

“Oh most definitely. He asks me when I’m going to come see you,” you rolled your eyes. Jon and Damian were best friends, much like you and Damian were. Jon just seemed to think that there was more to your relationship than just being best friends. He was right on your end. You realized four years ago that you were in love with your best friend. You knew he couldn’t feel the same, so you kept it to yourself and used your feelings for him to better your friendship and protect him when your worked on missions together.

“The little brat thinks he’s so slick,” you joked.

“You might want to tone down the judgement on your brother. When I said this operation was even bigger than we thought, that meant that it spread to Metropolis. Jon and Conner are already with Grayson in the penthouse. Your father is off world but is trying to wrap up the mission to get back here to help deal with the situation. Father, Todd, and Drake have arrived at the penthouse. Pennyworth and Brown are monitoring things in Gotham.”

You nodded and stretched your hearing to the penthouse. Everyone Damian had mentioned was, in fact, at the penthouse. Another sound caught your attention. You zoned in on it and tensed. “-eady in two hours. We’ll take those idiot do-gooder’s out in no time,” that was Tarantula. 

“Good. I want to be rid of them as soon as possible.” Blockbuster.

You zoned back into the car as it parked. You both exited the car, but you paused as a scream reached your ears. It was coming from the same direction as Blockbuster and Tarantula. “-(Y/N)? KENT,” Damian shouted as he shook your shoulder. 

“What?” 

“Are you coming?” 

“I’ve got to check something out,” you muttered, mind still on the information you’d gotten on the way...and thinking of the scream. Was it just a trap to see if their plan would work on you? Was someone really in danger and needed assistance? As the scream returned, you rushed into the penthouse, ignoring the people already in it. You changed into your suit and was out your bedroom window before Damian even reached your room. 

“TT, damn it Kent,” you heard Damian exclaim and you tuned out the penthouse. 

Landing quietly on the roof of the building you tracked the scream to, you carefully looked around. You weren’t going in blindly. This could very well be a trap. You wished that you’d gotten the genetics for X-Ray vision at this point, but you could deal with this. You could help the person in danger and get back to the penthouse to talk about the operation with everyone else. 

You entered through a vent, using the many lessons Bruce and Dick had taught you about hiding in the shadows and using the element of surprise. Finally you found the room where the screaming originated from. Good news was that there was cause for you to investigate. Bad news, someone did need rescuing and it was most likely a trap. 

You reached your hearing to the penthouse, before whispering out, “Jon, Conner, your listening ears on?” You heard them quiet down the others in the penthouse as they responded. 

“Good news, I know where Blockbuster’s master plan resides currently. Bad news, they’re going to go through with the plan in two hours.”

“Why the hell did you go off without anyone else,” Conner hissed.

“Other bad news, they have hostages.”

It was silent for a minute before Jon sighed. You could imagine him running a hand down his face, “and they know you have enhanced hearing meaning they were planning on drawing you into a trap...which you blindly did.”

“Not exactly. They still don’t know I’m here. I spent too much time with bats to be that stupid,” you paused as you saw movement as the door in the room opened. “Hold on, movement.”

“Don’t engage, Kent,” Damian growled, “we’re coming to you. You don’t move until we get there.”

Your heart stopped momentarily as you realized that you didn’t have a choice in that. Seconds after seeing the man come through the door, you put up your mental shields as you had been taught. Manchester Black, renowned telepath and enemy of Superman and all of his children. You didn’t know he was back on Earth. “Black,” you whispered, hearing Jon tell the others of the telepath. 

Apparently you hadn’t put your shields up fast enough to block Black. “Come now, Kryptonian.”

Before you could move, the vent was torn from the ceiling and you were left staring at Monolith and General Zod. A quiet curse left your lips as you made a head count. Manchester Black, General Zod, Monolith, Blockbuster, Tarantula, Bane, Joker, and Harley Quinn. “And I thought your little plan wouldn’t work,” Bane chuckled as he looked at Zod. 

“All of Kal-El’s children are too righteous to ignore helping the innocent. Even his clone can’t ignore the need to help others. It’s pathetic really,” he responded. You could feel Black trying to break your shields. 

“Can we hit this one now? I want to see her turn black and blue,” Harley leaned on her bat as she waited on an answer. 

“I need her disabled in order to test our plan out, go ahead,” Blockbuster grinned. 

It was like you were an all you can eat buffet and the villains were starved people as they all rushed at you. You growled under your breath and fought them off. You stayed as far away from Monolith as possible. As far as you and Dick knew, he was invulnerable-not to mention the superstrength he possessed rivaled your own. You kept Zod at a distance as well. He was a full blooded Kryptonian, he possessed all of your dad’s abilities and other than kryptonite, he had no vulnerabilities. 

You focused on Tarantula. Get her out and you’ll have one less villain to deal with. It wasn’t hard to knock the young woman out. With her out of commission, you worked on Joker and Harley while still dodging attacked from the others. You had knocked Harley out just as you felt yourself being picked up and thrown through the air, complete with the feeling that your skin was being melted. A huge fist pushed your farther into the concrete you rested against. 

You met the next fist and threw off Monolith. You didn’t get far before it felt like your head was exploding. With your concentration gone, you crashed to the ground, hands going up to your head as the rest of your shields fell. You felt the blood starting to leak from your nose and you couldn’t fight the scream that left your lips as the pain in your head intensified along with the physical abuse by the other villains in the room. Just as you began to pass out, you felt your left leg shatter, causing a broken gasp to leave your mouth as everything went black. 

___________

You don’t know how long it had been since you lost consciousness when you woke next. A quiet groan left your mouth and you bit your lip as you pushed yourself up. You hissed as you put weight on your leg. You floated slightly to keep weight off of it. Several fearful eyes stared back at you once you began to look around. As you took stock of the situation, you extended your hearing, hoping to find the heartbeat of your brothers or the bats. You couldn’t find any sign of them and that worried you. As you looked around again, you realized that this wasn’t the location you scoped out earlier. They had moved you. 

Your heart beat began to quicken and did your breathing before you quelshed the fear. Damian Wayne would find you. You trusted him with your life. He would find you and he wouldn’t stop until he did. You took one more look at the hostages in the cage with you, your face hardening slightly. “It’s going to be okay. I’m going to try and get the bars open enough for everyone to crawl out,” you whispered. You didn’t know where any of the villains were, but you didn’t want them to overhear you. 

As soon as your hands clasped the bars, it felt like your energy was being drained from you. As you pulled at the bars, they moved barely and inch apart. As you went to pull at them again, a very familiar chuckle reached your ears. “I made them especially for you Supers. The cages are infused with Kryptonite. I have to say, Krypton, I’m surprised that the other idiots’ plan worked. I didn’t think you were dumb enough to fall into the trap.”

You backed away from the bars and glared at the man coming from the shadows. “Lex Luthor, why am I not surprised. I thought you were still off world.”

He smirked, coming closer to the cage. “I came back just for this. You didn’t think that Bane, Zod, and Blockbuster came up with this whole operation by themselves, did you? By being off world, no one would suspect my involvement. Once we take Gotham, Bludhaven, and Metropolis, the other heroes and cities will fall into our control.”

“How do you plan to make the cities fall? How do you plan to get rid of the other heroes?”

“That’s the easy part. You’ll be helping us out. We’ll see if it works on you. If it does, we can implement it on the others. If it doesn’t, we’ll fix it until it does...and even if it doesn’t work, you’ll be out of the picture,” Lex smirked. He crossed his arms in amusement as you pried at the bars again. “How does it feel to know that you’ll either be under our control or dead in less than thirty minutes?”

“That’s not going to happen,” you growled. Monolith, Zod, and Blockbuster emerged from the shadows and Lex smirked. 

The cage door opened and you took the chance to attack, pushing the Monolith back into Zod. You used your heat vision to blind Blockbuster temporarily. You had to admit that you were panicking on the inside. You were a cornered animal and they all knew it. It would only be a matter of time before one of them restrained you. 

You screamed and fought as Zod held onto you, dragging you through darkened hallways as the others followed. “When we get in there, make sure to inject her with the compound before we hook her to the machine,” Lex turned to smirk at you. “The show is about to begin.”

A door at the end of the hallway had light peeking from the bottom. It blinded you as the door swung open. It took a second for your eyes to adjust. That was enough time for your handlers to be changed out. Monolith was now holding you as Zod approached with a syringe. “No,” you shouted and tried to fight against Monolith’s hold on you. You used your heat vision, superstrength, and flight to try and get away, but nothing you did got you free. 

Whatever was in the syringe burned your veins as it moved through. You grit your teeth, refusing to give them the satisfaction of knowing how much pain you were in. “Lock her in,” Lex stated as he moved further in the room. 

You fought the whole way there. You weren’t going without a fight. As the last restraint was put on you, you felt tears of frustration building up. “No no no no no,” you mumbled, pulling at the restraints. 

“You’ll find that those restraints are made of Kryptonite. While I’ll be displeased if this doesn’t work, at least I have one Super out of my hair,” Lex turned to look at Black behind the console. “Light her up!” 

As the machine roared to life, you heard glass breaking all around you and multiple figures entered the room. You didn’t have time to take it all in before the machine sent a steady stream of energy at you. Upon contact, the fire in your veins intensified tenfold and you couldn’t help but scream out. You could feel Black probing your mind and implanting thoughts, but you couldn’t focus enough to block him out. You felt like your body was being torn in two...but then it all stopped. 

Black was unconscious, the machine shut down, Conner and Jon fighting Zod and Monolith… Damian in front of you, hands on your cheeks, wiping away your fallen tears. His mouth moving, but you can’t hear what he’s saying. All you hear is whitenoise. “Hurts,” you form the word with your mouth. Whether it’s spoken or not, you don’t know but Damian understands. 

Your restraints are undone and you can’t catch yourself, but you don’t need to. Damian has you, he’s lowering you to the ground, crouching with you, still saying something you can’t make out as he turns his head while he talks in order to see how the others are doing. Slowly, your hearing comes back, “-got you. Should have gotten here sooner. How are you feeling,” he turned back to you, picking you up bridal side. 

“Hurs, Dee,” your words are blending, but you can’t help it. 

He exits the building with you, holding onto you tightly as he sits in the passenger seat of the batmobile. Not long after, the other vigilantes exit the building, some with villains in tow, others talking in low voices. Well, low for them. To you, it was like they were yelling directly in your ears. Your hands come up to cover your ears, letting out a distressed sound. 

Damian’s arms tighten around you as you begin to try to get out of his grasp, “loud...too loud. Hurts,” you squeeze your eyes shut. 

“Father, get us out of here now,” Damian’s voice is loud as well as he calls to his father. 

_________

You’re lucky the penthouse soundproof. Even with that, you can still hear things, but it’s all dull. Everything that happens in the penthouse, though, sounds like an airhorn in your ear. The quiet talking of the other people in the house are like shouts. The flush of the toilet is like a hurricane. The beeping of the coffee pot being done is like being right next to the tsunami siren. Not to mention every time you move, even the smallest bit, everything burns and hurts. You imagine this is how Jason Todd felt after being beaten by Joker then left to a fiery death by bomb. 

You hissed slightly as you sat up on the bed. You had to get out of here. You had to get rid of the headache. You had to go somewhere quiet...and you had just the place: your dad’s Fortress of Solitude. You stumbled into the wall as you walked to the window. 

Suddenly, Jon is in front of you, arms crossed and worry evident on his face. “Where are you going,” he asked. 

Your right hand went up to your ear as you winced. “Quiet,” you whispered. Your left hand, which you had against the wall for support, quivered. 

Jon placed both hands on your shoulders to steady you. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

“No,” you shouted. This caused Jon to jump slightly, giving you a moment to back away from him. “I-I can’t think! I can’t-I can’t concentrate! I can’t-I need-I-Hurts! Jon, it hurts! My head-My head, feels like it’s ex-exploding! I don’t care how quiet you and everyone else talks, it’s like you’re each screaming in my ears!!” By now, tears were freely falling and you had drawn a crowd. 

You backed away until your back hit a wall. The fire in your veins was back and getting worse with each breath you took. “Make it...STOP!” The temperature in the room dropped and you could only watch as each of your increased breaths cooled the room even more. “What’s happening to me,” your voice cracked, as did the mirror on your wall from the amount of ice piled on it. 

Damian was in front of you, placing one hand on your knee and the other on your cheek. “Beloved, you need to calm down. I will help you figure it out, but I need you to calm down...you’re scaring me.” The fact that Damian Wayne admitted that he was scared was enough to get your attention. You stared directly at him, nodding slightly. 

“Damian, I’m scared. Everything hurts. I can’t think-I can’t-I can’t focus...Veins on fire.” You shut your eyes, letting out a shaky breath. You let out a scream intentionally and stood abruptly. “Injection. Lex,” you closed your eyes, trying to bring the words to your lips, “injected me with something.” You could tell your body was shaking but you couldn’t focus on it. Get it together, Kent. “Black was-Black-in my head. Changed things. Put things in.”

The different heart beats in the room were going at different speeds. It created an unsteady thrum that you couldn’t help but focus on. “What kind of things did he change,” Conner asked as quietly as he could, at least you thought he was trying for your benefit to be quiet. 

You still winced at his voice, slowly sitting on the edge of your bed. “Thoughts. Feelings. All fucked up.” You put your face in your hands, trying to scrub away the tears that had fallen. “My fault. All my fault. Stupid. Idiot,” you mumbled. “Feels like-like mind’s splitting in two.”

“That’s probably an accurate description. You didn’t fully complete Lex’s plan before we interrupted. From what Conner and Jon heard, you were either supposed to be dead or under their control. Black was probably implanting memories and changing your beliefs and didn’t get to finish. Your core beliefs are fighting what he changed making your mind fight itself. As for what he injected you with, I’m running that through my systems to figure out what it was. Alfred and Stephanie are tracking down the exact components of it to see if we can create something to counteract it.” Bruce slowly stepped forward. “You just need to hold on. Clark’s almost back to Earth. We’re going to figure this out.”

___________

You’d finally passed out around five a.m. Looking at the clock, it didn’t seem worth it. Six fifteen a.m. You went through your morning routine on autopilot. You felt numb. You looked at yourself in the mirror, wincing at your battered body. You couldn’t feel it, but it sure as hell look like it hurts. Now that you think about it, you should be more worried that you couldn’t feel anything. You were battered enough that your makeup didn’t even cover the bruising. 

You rolled your eyes and walked out of your room and to the kitchen. You were slightly surprised to see almost everyone sitting around the living area/kitchen. You hadn’t heard them moving around. You grabbed a plate and grabbed portions of eggs and grits. You decided to take it back to your room as all of the convenient seats were taken. 

Before you could walk back to your room, a hand landed on your shoulder and turned you around. You cocked your head, why didn’t he just call for you? Dick’s mouth was moving, but you couldn’t hear his voice. The confusion must have shown on your face as Damian and your brothers approached. As much as you wanted to figure out what was wrong with your hearing, you couldn’t help but not care about it. You handed Dick your plate and turned around, locking the door behind you.

You finished your morning routine and deciding on a hat for today so that you could hide some of your bruised face. You had to get to work. You had an article due today after all. As you approved your look in the mirror, you walked out the door of your room. You gave the usual parting words to Grayson as you neared the front door, “don’t do anything stupid that I have to save your ass from today, Grayson.”

You had just made it out the door when there was another hand gripping your shoulder. You huffed and jerked out of their hold to come face to face with your father. His mouth moved and you barely made out the words ‘you’re hurt. You need to rest and heal.’ You shook your head and backed away from him. 

“Article due today. Gotta finish it. I feel fine,” the truth was you didn’t feel anything at all. His arm moved quickly to grip you again, but you jerked back again, glaring at your father. “Don’t make me do something I’ll regret later, Daddy.”

Jon was on your right side and Conner on your left. Both their mouths were moving, but you couldn’t concentrate on one of them to figure out what they were saying. You started to walk away from them again. You didn’t hesitate to fight against the next hand that grabbed you. You swung the arm over you, disorienting your brother before popping his shoulder out of its socket and shoving him hard enough into the wall to leave a Jon sized print.

You didn’t bother to stop to apologize, just continued to your car. This time no one stopped you. 

(Third Person POV)

Damian wasn’t sure what was going on with you. It scared him. The previous day when he couldn’t figure out how to comfort you and make the pain go away, he felt like a complete failure. He’d finally been able to get you to go to sleep around five and had promptly found his father and the others in the living area to figure out what to do to help you.

About an hour later, you walked out of the room like you were back to your old self. Like nothing had happened the previous day. Dick excused himself from the conversation as you reappeared with a plate of food, heading for your room. “(Y/N)! What are you doing up? I would think you’d be resting.” She didn’t respond. “(Y/N)?”

He placed a hand on your shoulder and you turned around, cocking your head in question. “Are you alright? How are you feeling this morning? (Y/N), can you understand me?” Each question was followed with her brow furrowing. Damian, Conner, and Jon approached you while Dick held your attention.

By the time Damian had an idea of what was wrong, you were already back in your room. He tried the door, but it was locked. He thought of picking the lock, but maybe you just needed some time to yourself. 

When you came walking through the room again, this time looking like you were going out, Damian was out of his seat quicker than any of the others. “(Y/N), where are you going? You should be resting.” It didn’t seem as if you’d heard him. 

“Don’t do anything stupid that I have to save your ass from today, Grayson,” you called as you grabbed your keys and proceeded out the door.

Clark was right behind you, gripping your shoulder. “I think there’s something wrong with your hearing, Sweetheart.” You turned in his grip, shrugging out of it. “You’re hurt. You need to rest and heal.” 

Damian watched as your face hardened and you glared at your father. He had never seen you act this way around Clark Kent. You adored him. Sure, there were times when you argued with your father about missions, but he had never seen this pure hatred that crossed across your face. “Article due today. Gotta finish it. I feel fine.” Your voice was a little loud which supports the theory that your hearing could be shot from the previous day.

He watched as you jerked away from your father’s grip again. If you had been an animal, he could imagine your hackles rising and you growling to ward off a predator or unwanted visitor. “Don’t make me do something I’ll regret later, Daddy,” you practically spat the last word. By this time, Jon and Conner had closed in on both sides, making a narrow opening for your to walk through. 

“(Y/N), Sis, this isn’t you. I think it’s best that we keep you here for today. Let us help you,” Jon held his hands out complacently. 

“(Y/N/N), please. We don’t want to hurt you anymore than you already have been. Let’s go back inside,” Conner tried. 

He watched as you walked away from them. “Jon, don’t-” Damian tried to call out as he saw Jon reach for you. Your demeanor suggested that another attempt to stop you would end up with one of your family hurt. You tossed him like a rag doll, dislocating his shoulder and pushing him hard enough in the wall to leave an imprint. Jon called out in pain as you walked away. Something was very wrong...and Damian was going to figure it out.

D.C. Loves

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[ren-c-leyn]

The Hero’s Guardian

 Hello, hello, another fusion story for you guys. I don’t think I’m actually making a whole lot of progress in cleaning out my drafts, as I add just as many new and amazing prompts as I use (sometimes more) but I’m having fun trying.

 This one is made up of this prompt by @p-r-o-m-p-t-s, this prompt by @write-it-motherfuckers, this prompt by @soprompt, these 1,2 by @humdrummoloch, these 1,2,3,4,5,6 by @thependragonwritersguild, this prompt by @scandy-inspo, these 1,2,3,4 by @givethispromptatry, and finally, this prompt by @promptslair.

 A similar premise to my other short story, Flowers for the Hero Maker, but I love the trapped, immortal guardian trope every since I played final fantasy 2, at least I think it was number two with the guy and the word labyrinth. *shrugs* 

 There is quite a bit more swearing than what is normally found in my short stories. Some mention of injuries, and one fight scene. Nothing gory, though.

~

 A boy with orange eyes crossed my path, and the world began to change. Not just mine, but the entire thing. It was so long ago, such a different time. I don’t even recall much of it, only the reassured smile on his face and the hard lesson that came after: Choices evaporate in the presence of fate. 

 It was a harsh one that came from my elder sisters. I remember they were all doing their own tasks, mixing medicines and making things. It was... so beautiful to watch. It seemed almost like magic. How silly, how naive, but it brought me happiness. I remember, the day after I told them about the boy with orange eyes, I just opened my mouth and said what had been on my mind for years.

 “I want to be like you when I grow up!”

 “… No, sweetheart.” My sisters glanced at each other before turning back to me. “What we do is not important. You will be important.”

 “You’re important to me.”

 “And thank the gods everyday for you. You will be better than us.”

 I didn’t understand, couldn’t understand. What was more important than them? Than the smiling faces they made? Than the people they mended? The priestess told me. The priestess told me many things, including my fate... a fate she used magic to bind me to.

 Before a statue of the orange-eyed boy, she made me swear an oath I couldn’t comprehend. She made a child swear away their life, and I did it because my sisters smiled and nodded. I swore to guard the Forest of Fate... for all of eternity. Oaths mean something around here, even for those who don’t understand what they mean.

  I was blinded by the white light. Everyone was blinded by the white light. The white light that gave and stole everything from me.... The light that bound me to this forest, for the rest of time.

 Several heroes later, and it was just another day, another chosen one. Only, this one was not particularly promising....

 I looked up and down his scrawny frame, the old sword in it’s tattered scabbard, the soft hands, and smirk, and all I felt was simmering annoyance.

 Fate was doing this on purpose, the ass.

 “So, guardian, what’s my trial? The grand fight before I get my legendary weapon to slay the wizard with as my destiny demands?”

 “Your destiny?” I threw my head back and laughed. “You don’t seem to know how Fate works. Should you fail, he’ll replace you. He always does.”

 The young man frowned, his dark brown brows furrowing as he straightened himself.

 “I won’t fail.”

 My laughter ceased. He said the words with such conviction I almost wanted to believe him. Almost. But I knew better.

 “We shall see,” I said, pulling my eldest sister’s jewelry box from my pouch, “for your first trial lies within this.”

 He tilted his head, like a confused pup.

 “What monster fits in such a tiny box?”

 I undid the latch, allowing the slime to bounce out of the box. The young man’s confused expression turned to offence.

 “A slime? They’re weak enough children can beat them!”

 “We shall see.”

 I snapped my fingers and the deceptively quick blob of green ooze flew at him, hitting him squarely in the abdomen. No defensive skills, noted. He slashed at it with all of the grace of a drunken horse. No sword training, noted. He then attempted to chase it down as it rolled around the circle. Average speed, noted. By the time he succeeded in defeating my trusted friend, he was winded and displayed nothing remarkable aside from his tenacity. A bonus, I suppose.

 “You are not worthy.”

 “I am chosen! Of course I’m worthy!”

 “It simply means you have more potential to be worthy than the average citizen.” Fate only fucking knows why. “But as of this moment, you are incapable of wielding the weapons and magics I guard. You are far more likely to hurt yourself or innocents.”

 “How can you be so sure?” he pressed.

 “Do keep in mind that I was here before you, and will be here long after you’re gone. I have seen many come and many go. I know what happens when the unproven attempt to handle what I guard, and like it or not, you’re one of them. Become a man of consequence, and we’ll have this conversation again.”

 He huffed.

 “And how do I do that?”

 I gestured to the forest.

 “There’s plenty of monsters to train with. All as, if not more, ancient as myself and just as dedicated to fucking up chosen ones as I am to guarding the place.”

 He paused at that.

 “But... if it’s full of monsters, what are you guarding this place from?”

 “People, mostly, sometimes evil deitys, but that’s really none of your concern. Now either go train, or relinquish your title. I may have eternity, but I assume the normal people you’re tasked with saving do not.”

 He frowned as he scrubbed the slime off his face with a handkerchief. 

 “Where do you suggest I start?”

 “The clearing to the west. Stay away from the lake and the mountainous areas. Oh, and if you see a cave, avoid that too.”

 “Fine. I’ll be back.”

 And then he stormed off.

 About three days later, while I was going through my daily training, the bushes began to rattle. I prepared myself for battle, watching them closely. Only, instead of raiders or servants of the god of destruction, the skinny guy from earlier crawled out and collapsed onto the stones, breathing hard.

 There was a long moment of silence before I sighed and continued going through my stances and strikes.

 “Why are there so many scratches on your face?”

 “There was a weird cat with like... five tails, and they had spikes on them....”

 “So you decided to challenge it. Smart.”

 He sat up, glaring at me.

 “You don’t have to be so gods’ damned sarcastic about it! I didn’t know what the fuck it was! And you haven’t been a whole lot of help....”

 I couldn’t help but laugh.

 “You can thank Fate for that. He decided to deal the creatures here strange cards so adventurers wouldn’t, and I quote, ;get bored’. He also forbid me from teaching chosen ones about the monsters here.”

 He stared at me like a kicked puppy.

 “But... but why would...? That doesn’t make sense.”

 “Welcome to my world. Though, I suspect it may have more to do with training them to discern weaknesses and tactics of enemies for themselves, in case something unpredictable happens.”

 He mulled it over for a second before nodding.

 “That does make a lot more sense than the boredom thing.... But what’s the point of choosing people if they’re allowed to just die here in the middle of some forest?”

 I paused at that, movements and all. I couldn’t help but think back to that day, the day I was led to this place and made my oath.

 “I’m not sure there is much of a point.”

 He tilted his head at that, but I did not elaborate as I swung my blade with more force than what was needed.

 I’m not sure when he left, hours or minutes ago, but it mattered little. I spent the night, and the next few days alone again. He came back eventually, covered in scabs, bruises, dirt, various bloods, and leaves.

 “... There is a stream.”

 “I know, This is just what I collected between here and there....”

 I shook my head, laughing lightly.

 “The forest feels threatened. That is a good sign.”

 “It is?!” he asked, brown eyes lighting up in hope.

 “It is,” I said with a nod, “but you’re still not ready.”

 He sighed, shoulders drooping. 

 “Well... at least I’m making progress?”

 “You are,” I agreed, continuing my training.

 “So... I’ve been wondering something, since well, even before we met. How did you become the guardian of this place?”

 I didn’t answer, choosing to focus on my breathing and my movements.

 “I mean, everyone says you were a human once, and not a divine creature.... So, what happened?”

 I sighed, lowering the blade as I looked over at him.

 “Once upon a time, I was a plucky, young kid going about my day, then shit happened and now we’re here.” 

 “Touching story,” he replied with a flat sarcasm that probably matched what I gave him at news of his fight with the cat-creature.

 I shrugged before resuming my practice.

 “Not all tales are. Besides, mine isn’t the important one here.”

 He blinked at that.

 “And what makes you say that?”

 “Because I’m not the hero.”

 There was a long silence as he just sat there, staring at me with wide eyes and a disbelieving stare.

 “But... but you’ve fought monsters, and evil deities....”

 “Their minions, mostly, but yes.”

 “You’ve christened all of the mightiest heroes.”

 “After they passed their tests, yes.”

 “You’ve served Fate for...” he paused, as if he was searching his memory for the number, “a... a really long time.”

 “Doesn’t make me the hero, just makes me a guardian.”

 He gave me that kicked puppy stare.

 “How can you not be?”

 “No one praises a guard dog for doing it’s job, and that’s basically what I am. I’m just doing what the oath compels me to. Nothing more, nothing less. I save no one, I really don’t help anyone, either. I’m just here, running at the end of my leash, growling and snarling at all whom aren’t my master.”

 “Oh... is that why you were an ass when we met?”

 I glared at him.

 “No, that was because someone who couldn’t even beat Squishy thought he could just show up and have a legendary weapon of unfathomable power.”

 He winced and then tilted his head.

 “Wait... Squishy?”

 “The slime, it’s name is Squishy. I gave it to it when it first decided to make it’s home in the box.”

 The color drained from his face.

 “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to kill your pet!”

 I nearly fell over laughing, which stopped the sputtered stream of apologies and something about a funeral.

 “No, no, no, you didn’t kill Squishy. Fate granted Squishy special... abilities, as a reward for my service. He does something... kinda nice once every hundred years or so for me.”

 He stared at me.

 “So... it wasn’t a normal slime?”

 “It is in all things except it’s immortality.”

 “Oh... Damn, I was hoping it was a super slime.”

 I laughed again.

 And so the routine continued. He’d survive in the wilds for a few days before coming to visit for a few hours, sometimes mimicking my movements when conversations and laughter were over. Then, he’d vanish again. That is, until I got a terrible feeling.

 A flock of birds scattered far to the south, the way towards the lake, and a pit formed in my stomach. That dumbass wouldn’t... would he? I thought about it for a minute before recalling his previous encounters and grimacing. He would. He most certainly would.

 For the first time in many years, I left the stoned area, rushing down a distantly familiar trail towards the lake. Screeches and deep roars pushed me to move faster and faster, until I stumbled into a clearing, just in time to see him fall. Behind him was a water dragon. Thankfully, a young one. It looked hurt, but not nearly as much as he did, and it looked much angrier than him as well.

 Before I could even put any thought into it, my body was in between the two, and the creature was bearing down on me.

 “No! Guardian!”

 The shouted barely registered in my mind as I ducked out of the way of raking claws and rolled to the underbelly. My blade sought out the grooves between the stomach plates and dug in as far as it could, biting at flesh and tearing at muscle. The dragon screeched loud enough to nearly deafen me. All I could hear was a ringing in my ears. It could have been disorienting had I not fought under such conditions a hundred or more times before.

 I cut again, my own fierce shouts a distant echo in my ears. Again and again I sliced, moving with the beast to keep myself from being trampled or squished. The deadly dance did not end until the creature was on the ground, breathing it’s last.

 With a dull click, I slid the sword into it’s sheath and moved towards him. He stared back at me through big, brown eyes. Without warning, I pulled him back up to his feet.

 “I told you.” I sighed as she shifted his arm around my shoulders to support him. “I told you.”

“Hey, can you not yell at me when I’m actively in pain?” He whimpered when the movement irritated his probably cracked ribs.

“No! You were a stupid shit and I’m going to tell that directly to your fucking face! Why do you do these things?!”

 “To impress you.”

 “You know what would impress me at this point?! You staying out of danger for twenty-four hours! No barbed-tail cats, no slimes, no DRAGONS, just a day without bruises.”

 He smirked at me.

 “Is that what it’d take to become a man of consequence?”

 I smacked him upside the head.

 “No, but it’ll help keep you alive long enough to become one. Seriously, recklessness won’t help anyone. Think of the people. They’re waiting on you to save them. You can’t do that if you’re dead.”

 “But... I can’t just hide and hope it goes away, either.”

 “No, you can’t, but you can learn to pick battles you can win.”

 He went silent for a while.

 “Do... do you think the fight with the wizard is a battle I can win?”

 I thought about it for the rest of the way back to the stones. He sighed just before we got there.

 “No, huh? I guess you’re right....”

 “You can.”

 His head snapped around to look at me.

 “And once you’re healed up, I’ll show you how.”

 “But I... I thought you weren’t allowed too....”

 “Teach about the animals of this forest, he didn’t say shit about teaching people how to kick evil wizards’ wrinkly asses.”

 I grinned at him, and he smiled back before laughing.

 Using my sisters’ medicines, I was able to get him back to training shape fairly quickly. Thankfully, his ribs weren’t broken, or I may have gotten a different hero. We spent the next few weeks training, with me imparting as much of my years of experience as I could in so little time. And before I knew it, the time had come for his final test.

 “Alright, and now you’re ready to try again.”

 He grinned at me.

 “I’m ready for it. What’s my final test? Squishy? A dragon?”

 “Me.”

 His face fell at that.

 “You? But... I don’t want to fight you.”

 I shrugged.

 “That’s the rule.”

 “But... you’re my friend. I won’t hurt you.”

 I snorted.

 “You can’t hurt me, I’m immortal.”

 He frowned.

 “But that doesn’t mean you can’t feel pain.”

 “Are you going to give up after I actually went to the trouble of saving and training you for the sake of accomplishing your goal?”

 “Well... no, but....”

 “Then fight. You don’t have to hurt me, just defeat me.”

 He glanced around before looking back at me. Eventually, he drew the old sword.

 “Okay... but only because I don’t want to waste your effort.”

 I grinned at him as I drew my own blade.

 “Good.”

 There was a pause, a moment of silence, and then we both burst into action. It was insane how fast he had improved. No other chosen one had learned so fast. Then again, I had never taken any effort to help any of them, nor had they shown an interest in mimicking my own training. Or maybe, maybe this was what Fate saw in him. 

 The clashing of steel rung out through the trees as our feet flew across the ancient stonework. Light flashed off the edges of our swords. Time and time again, the tips of sharpened blades teased at biting into flesh, but always stopped a little short. That is, until there was a horrible snapping sounds, and then the clattering of steel against stone.

 We both stared at the broken sword, laying on the stones, and then we looked at each other.

 “I... I guess I failed?” he said, voice on the verge of cracking.

 I grinned at him.

 “You’re kidding, right? Do you know how much it takes to break a sword? And what it takes not to be crushed beneath my heel like an ant?”

 There was a moment of silence before his eyes lit up with realization.

 “You mean...?”

 “Congratulations, hero.”

 He let out a shout before throwing his arms around me in the biggest hug I had ever gotten. I laughed.

 “Little early to be so excited, yeah? You haven’t even replaced your old sword yet.”

 “Who cares about the weapon! You called me a hero! The guardian thinks I’m a hero!”

 He laughed before finally releasing me, a huge smile on his face.

 I shook my head before leading him back to the lake.

 “Uh... guardian?”

 “Don’t worry, they won’t come.”

 “But...”

 “Just take this.”

 I held out a sword hilt to him.

 He titled his head, but accepted it.

 “So... what do I do with this?”

 “You place the handle in the water. When you withdraw it, picture the weapon you want to hold in your hand. The lake will forge it for you.”

 He paused before doing so. The familiar magic caused the water to glow and bubble, and before long, he was pulling out the most beautiful blade I had ever seen in my life.

 “Good luck breaking that one,’ I teased.

 He snorted.

 “Tell that to the wizard.”

 He paused before shuffling a bit. “Um... thank you, for everything....”

 “You can thank me by kicking that wizard’s ass using the techniques I showed you.”

 He grinned at me.

 “Will do.” There was another pause before he gave me a nod and started walking back up the path. He paused by the trees and looked back at me. “I’ll visit again. Wouldn’t want the guardian to get bored.”

 I laughed.

 “It’s the heroes who aren’t supposed to get bored here.”

 He smiled at me and then disappeared.

 For several years, it was just me and the forest, as it usually was. Still, I couldn’t help but feel a bit hollow. The same as it ever was, but I found myself wanting more again. Laughter and joy. It had been so long since I had them, I didn’t know I missed them until he was gone. My first friend in gods only know how many years, and he was gone. Stupid Fate, fucking destinies. 

 I was grumbling to myself, violently going through my daily routine when a voice called out to me.

 “Uh-oh, don’t tell me that another chosen one is giving you trouble.”

 I spun around so fast I nearly feel over.

 “You’re back! ... And you have flowers?”

 “For you! It’s the fifth year anniversary of when I met you and was attacked by Squishy, so, I thought I’d bring you a present.”

 He held the bouquet out to me, that grin on his face.

 “No ones ever brought me flowers before….”

 “Do you not like them?”

 “….I love them, thank you.” I accepted the flowers from him. “But, I don’t have a present for you....”

 “That’s fine,” he said with an easy smile and a shrug. “Actually, I was hoping to see the super slime again.”

 I grinned mischeviously.

 “Sure.”

 I undid the latch on the box and watched Squishy fly out and onto his face, knocking him to the ground. He swore and floundered around on the stones, shouting about the worst hug ever. I couldn’t stop myself from laughing if I wanted to. Even after he got my dear friend off, I was still giggling.

 He grinned up at me, hair a mess and armor well-slimed.

 “I missed hearing your laugh.”

 “Yeah, well, I missed having something to laugh about.’

[lovehaswonangelnumbers]

New Post has been published on https://lovehaswonangelnumbers.org/mars-enters-aries-a-rush-of-hot-passion-fiery-ambition-the-warrior-rises-once-again/

Mars Enters Aries- A Rush of HOT Passion, Fiery Ambition, The Warrior Rises Once Again

Mars Enters Aries- A Rush of HOT Passion, Fiery Ambition, The Warrior Rises Once Again

By Astromomma

On June 27th, Mars, the planet of: aggression, passion and purpose, enters his home sign of Aries. Whenever a planet enters the sign its rules, it becomes: very powerful, directed and fruitful. Since we have had no fire within the planets, since the Sun was in Aries, this will feel like a huge wave of increased vitality and energy. Aries, the 1st zodiac sign, is all about: initiative, action, innocence and innovation.

Mars in Aries is here to bring back spunk and action to our lives, with an ushering in of fiery ambition. Mars, for the last 6 weeks,has been in the sign of Pisces and struggled to show his strength and prowess in the murky waters of the fish. Now, as he enters his home sign of Aries, he is ready to rock and roll and light sh@t up, lol! He will have an extended stay in Aries until January 2021, as he will be going retrograde from September- November 2020.

While Mars is home in his home sign, this is a great time to be energized to risk it all and to feel empowered to go after your goals and ambitions. The flip side of Mars in Aries will be: aggression, irritation and fighting. He also represents our sex drive. This could get a real boost during this transit! It is all how you transmute his energies. Many great accomplishments that take courage and will power will be honed in during his transit, but this can also raise our tempers and hot headed tendencies. Anyone with Aries, as their: Sun, Moon or Ascendant, will be most affected by this transit. We will all though, have our libidos raised to maximum capacity and will have to be responsible for these increased energy levels.

As Mars transits through Aries, he will make tense aspects to: Saturn, Jupiter and Pluto, all in Capricorn. Saturn, is the planet of: obligation and restriction, Jupiter, is the planet of: expansion, wisdom and finally, Pluto, is the planet of: death/rebirth and regeneration. Capricorn, the 10th zodiac sign, deals with: authority, government, big business and control. Mars in Aries square to Saturn, Jupiter and Pluto in Capricorn, could produce epic fighting and conflicts among, the people vs. the established orders that prevail. Aries is about freedom and liberation and Capricorn is about order and control. You can see the big clash of energies. As much as I don’t want to predict war, this aspect sure signals the potential for it. This will be especially true around election time in US here in early November. This year of 2020 is giving us many tests and these aspects certainly will play a pivotal role within these lessons and trials.

Mars in Aries is here to bring back the passion and drive that might have thought disappeared for quite some time. As the warrior planet dives home to fight for his right to party, our internal flames will be ignited. Remembering to keep a sense of grounded calmness and peace, might be more difficult during this transit. The best way to utilize the warrior planet in his home sign, is to use the extra boost of passion and purpose into a: hobby, project or life style transformation. Mars, within his home dwelling, is here to: ignite you into action with loads of energy, bring back the courage and will power to achieve and light a fire under you ass to get going and to make it happen. If you have Aries as your: Sun, Moon or Ascendant, as well on your: IC, DC, MC, then this transit will be most potent and noticeable for you. Mars will remain in the sign of Aries, until January 6, 2021.

For this HOT transit of Mars in Aries, I am doing an extended sign horoscope on my Astromomma Patreon page: https://www.patreon.com/astromomma

These horoscopes, which are channeled from spirit, give you: practical, tangible and enlightening advice on how best to navigate this transit according to your individual sign.

Patreon is a huge supporter of mine, and is a subscription based model of a $4 or $6 USD monthly contribution, that gives you access to all my special extended horoscopes and articles. In addition, you receive discounts on my astrology and tarot readings. Your support is always appreciated but even more so now with all that is going on. Thank you for your trust and love, be well my loves!I

© Astromomma, 2020

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[angry-slytherin]

Heaven Help Me(Ch 1)

[prompt credits to @imfullofideas thank you!

Prompt: AU. Izzie never got cancer and she and Alex are happily married. Well sort of. Alex is just going through the motions while trying to keep his wife happy. His life is turned upside down when he meets Jo Wilson and realizes she's what he's been missing all along ]

Some background: For story purposes, Jo is/was only 2 years behind Alex and Izzie in residency. Alex and Izzie are second-year attendings and Jo is a fellow. Alex and Izzie got married in their third/fourth(?) year of residency, like in the show. Also, Alex will not cheat on Izzie with Jo, because cheating is gross and adultery is worse. Jo will become a general surgeon(forever bitter she isn’t ortho in canon, but whatevs), as well as Alex being a gen. pediatric surgeon. Izzie is in oncology, but she will also perform surgery. Because despite her big heart, I cannot find anything I genuinely could see her doing as a surgeon; she’s a great doctor though. I just went with the crack canon that 16x16 brought us.

Without further ado, Chapter 1:

•••

It doesn’t take Jo Wilson very long after she moves to Seattle to conclude that the reason the small population of the city is so contrary, is due to the constant rain. Good weather means good moods, and lots of barometric pressure equals a lot of headaches. Which is what Jo has right now. A raging headache.

“Cross, how many times do I have to have these results sent back to the lab? You are a fifth year. Next year you’ll be an attending general surgeon. You will call the shots. If you can’t get simple lab results right, how is anybody supposed to trust you with their life? Get me a white-cell count and glucose levels for my mice, please.”

Cross nods his curly blonde head vigorously.

“Right, sorry Dr. Wilson.” Cross stares at Jo for a moment, before she shoos him.

“I swear the fifth year’s get duddier every year. You could steal another resident for your trial that has half a brain, I’m sure. And mice?” Jo turns around, to see Izzie Stevens leaning over a chart, smiling at her.

“You’re right, Dr. Stevens. But he knows my research so well. I have a pretty competent intern on it too, though. An oncology intern that I’m borrowing.” Jo leans on her elbow on the nurse’s desk.

“Ah right, you’re our new research fellow. I’m inspired by your work, Doctor...”

“Wilson, Josephine Wilson.”

“Doctor Wilson; its innovative. I was surprised to see Chief Bailey even put out a personal check to fund your fellowship.” Izzie smiles, and it makes Jo feel warm inside.

“Uh yeah, it was certainly a great opportunity. It wasn’t my original plan to come to Seattle, but plans change.” Jo gives a small smile, as Izzie hands her tablet to a nurse.

“Welcome to Seattle, then. The warnings are true, it rains a lot here.” And Izzie walks off.

“Thanks.” Jo calls over her shoulder.

“Doctor Wilson, your pager is going off.”

Jo looks at the nurse over the desk, “Right.” She feels her face flush. 911, OR 2.

***

A nurse slips latex gloves on Jo’s hands.

“You paged me?”

“Are you a general resident or something? If so, then yes, and get your damn hands in the patient, please.”

Jo looks up to see a face matching the voice; a male surgeon. She assumes he either hates female surgeons or residents with that tone.

“Fellow, a research fellow. I am also a board certified general surgeon, but I’ll gladly play resident for a minute.” She steps over to the table, “What do we have here?”

“Two-year-old boy; biliary atresia, I need an assist.”

“That would be why I’m here.”

Jo grabs the suction tube.

“It feels incredible to be in an OR. I’ve been here for a week and so far it’s been all paper work and setting up my lab, no operations yet for me. It’s like I have that intern-level high of being in here for the first time.”

“That’s great; but this kid needs your focus. I’ve been his doctor for a long time, and I’ve known you less than five minutes.”

“Doctor... well I don’t know you either, but look at his bile duct. He needs a Kasai.”

The male surgeon inspects the patient’s abdomen, and sighs defeatedly.

“Crap. You’re right.”

“It’s okay, we’ll do it right. You’ve gotten this kid this far, and I’m pretty confident in my skills. Let’s get ready.”

***

As Jo scrubs her hands after surgery, it occurs to her.

“I still don’t know your name.”

“Doctor Alex Karev, pediatric general surgeon. But you knew that. And yours?”

“Doctor Jo Wilson. General surgeon and research fellow. But you knew that.”

Alex smiles, and it makes her smile back. He has a ruggish look, almost hardened that attracts her.

“Your whole motivational thing helped. Thanks. I didn’t mean to be an ass in the there; still working on that. I’ve been an ass my whole life, and I revert when I’m stressed.”

“It’s okay, I kick and scream when I’m stressed too. Maybe we should both work on our coping mechanisms. Make a switch to ortho?” Jo can’t help her cheeky grin.

“Oh yeah, definitely. Let’s get right on that.” Alex’s eyes widen as he says it, and his grin soon matches her. Jo studies his face for another moment, before her pager goes off again.

“I have to go. It was nice meeting you Doctor Karev.”

“You too, Doctor Wilson.”

Jo leaves the scrub room, feeling lighter in her step as she walks toward her lab. Her elation even leads her to believe that Cross will have gotten the correct tests. She turns the corner.

“Doctor Wilson, these results look weird to me.”

Cross hands her the paper, and Jo feels her heart rate speed up as she reads it.

“Why the hell is her white count so low? Mouse number three I mean,” She trails over to the mouse, not looking up.

“Doctor Cross, did you or Doctor Rayn notice this mouse looking sickly? Maybe she’s got an existing illness?”

“It’s a mouse.” Cross says.

“Yes, I know that. What I’m saying is that if she doesn’t, this means that this treatment won’t work. This research is basically useless.” Jo gapes sadly at the mouse. Her stomach sinks and her chest hurts.

“Please, go run white counts again on all the mice. And test them all for anything weird. Consult a veterinarian if you have to, just find out if there’s something wrong with my mouse. Find Rayn to help you.”

“Got it. I hope she’s alright; it had been going so well.” Cross looks down, the air in the room feeling heavy.

“I know. So go get those work ups done.”

Once her resident is gone, Jo takes a seat at a lab table for a moment, before deciding that what she really needs is a lunch break.

***

“That looks absolutely disgusting.” Jo feels like she might throw up looking at her friend, Doctor Atticus Lincoln’s lunch.

“She’s right Link, that looks like it was burnt, thrown in a dumpster and harassed by a koala.” This comes from Amelia Shepherd, Atticus’ longtime girlfriend and recently— fiancée.

“Well, I’m going to it eat it. And neither of you,” He looks between the two women, “Can stop me.” And with that, he shoves a bite of meatloaf into his mouth.

“Oh god,” Jo squeezes her eyes shut, and shoves a bite of salad into her own mouth to wash away the second-hand disgusting that she feels.

Amelia goes unbothered, instead becoming interested in Jo.

“So, have you found any new friends. Better than this loser; a boyfriend, or perhaps a very lucky man in a bar? There’s one right here, no discount, but the owner probably knows more about us doctors and nurses than we do.”

“Maybe, no, and definitely not.”

“Oh well that’s boring. Who’s your friend?”

“Doctor Karev. We didn’t speak all that much, and I wouldn’t call him a friend yet, but he seems nice, and we clicked.”

“Oh he’s like a rugged hot right? Not my type, but good looking,” She then turns to Link, “The one with the crazy wife, right?”

Link looks up innocently from his meatloaf, “You think everyone is crazy. She’s normal to me.”

“Okay...he’s normal though? Safe to be around?”

Amelia laughs, “She’s not dangerous. She is crazy though, crazier than me; and that’s saying something. She’s charming to some, but I wouldn’t marry her, if you know what I mean.”

Link adds, “She’s nice though.”

“Sunshine-y like my fiancé here.”

Jo nods.

“So no crazies, right Link? They’re both normal people?”

Link glances at Amelia, “Amelia only hates her because she believes she should’ve been kicked out of the program for something she did as an intern. It’s not my story to tell, but it was kind of crazy. The whole thing.”

Jo smiles, “Okay, then I might just have a new friend.”

***

“Doctor Wilson! So this is your lab. It’s very organized. It also reeks like med school.”

“Not much worse than ORs get, Doctor Karev.” Jo smiles to herself.

“A hundred percent. Can I ask what you’re working on, oh wise research fellow?” Alex walks over to Jo and the mice, studying them.

“A cure for cancer. In the long run, that’s the goal. This is just phase testing, still on mice. Right now, me and my team are studying a whole bunch of boring crap to get to the fun stuff. It’s just me, two residents, a couple of biomed engineers and some mice.”

“That’s a big goal. And kind of an incredible one. How did you get the grant money?”

“The chief of surgery wrote a personal check. She was inspired by my work at Hopkins, in residency, and I gave up my minimally invasive fellowship at Mass Gen to come here.”

“Wow, someone’s got expensive taste. Family money?”

“What, no? Brain power. I was a foster kid, but I’m just ridiculously smart. You probably couldn’t comprehend half of what I do here.” Jo teases, grinning.

“Oh yeah, I’m just really stupid. But hey, I was a foster kid too. On and off.”

“Oh yeah, any good homes?”

“One. The rest were all crap.”

“Mine were all crap. Every single one. But life goes on. You have to get past it, or it’ll sink you.”

“Wow that’s deep. Real insightful.” Alex deadpans. Jo rolls her eyes.

“Shut up! It’s what my therapist taught me when I was in my early years of med school. That’s what happens when you’re messed up in the head.”

“Hey, at least you have your self-proclaimed ridiculous smarts, I just have messed up.” Alex cracks, as Jo tinkers with a tool.

“Ever been to therapy?” She asks hesitantly.

“No.”

“It’s horrible. I threw up every time, and I think it made me worse. But then it made me better.” She puts the tool down and faces Alex.

“Good, I’m glad.” Alex smirks sideways for a moment, and Jo can’t help but smile back. Then, after a beat, Jo works up courage.

“So I heard you have a wife. What’s she like? You can’t be that messed up if you have a wife.”

“Uh yeah. She’s a doctor, an oncologist. She pops in here often, she did a surgical residency. Doctor Izzie Stevens.”

“Oh. I’ve seen her around; talked to her this morning. She’s very nice, pretty too.” Jo compliments.

“Yeah, she’s great. What about you, anyone special? Husband, girlfriend, dog?”

Jo laughs, “Just me right now. New city, cross country move, you know?”

Alex nods, “Gotcha. Anyone you had to leave back home? Personally I ran from where I grew up, but some people have a hard time letting go.”

Jo bites her lip, “No, not from Maryland. I’ve ran before, but not from there.” Her voice is quieter and she seems to shrink into herself.

“Oh. Well that’s nice, I guess.”

“Yeah. No running anymore. Seattle is growing on me. I like that rain.”

Alex smiles.

[zen3to5]

J/H 3-21: The Trials of Michael Kelso

In doing this project, I haven't touched the "A" stories of any episodes since "Ice Shack." That's a consequence of trying to stick to things that could plausibly have happened on the show; even continuing through Season 3, Zen needs to be in proportion to what its role would've been in the overall story. (It's also a consequence of the "A" stories in the last few episodes not having much, if any, overlap with the "B" stories and runners.)

Well, in this case, there's a whole new "A" story for "The Trials of Michael Kelso," and what was its "A" story is a significantly altered "B." Jackie and Hyde don't have a single scene together here (just as in the actual episode), but I promise there's payoff to this. And there's also ripple effects spreading into Season 4, because a certain off-screen development there made for the new "A" plot here...

FF.Net AO3

---

SHOW TITLE   INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT   The Hyde residence, as trashed as ever. BUD sits on the couch, watching TV. The door swings open and HYDE enters.   BUD: Hey, there he is!   HYDE: Bud, man, you’re not working tonight?   BUD: Well, the bookie knows to look for me down at the bar, but he doesn’t know where I live.   He laughs. Hyde tosses his keys onto the counter and sits on the other end of the couch.   HYDE: You in trouble, Bud?   BUD: Oh, no, no no. (beat) I mean, most of those guys, when they say “I’ll beat your face in,” that just means “you’ve got another two weeks,” you know?   HYDE: I mean, if you need another loan...   Bud looks up, expecting. Hyde pulls out a few bills and passes them over. Bud counts them and pockets them.   BUD: Atta boy. Hey, why don’t we go and hit up the nudie bar?   He gives Hyde a friendly jab to the arm, and Hyde nods and cackles.   HYDE: Now you’re talkin’.   Bud laughs and pats Hyde’s knee. A knock comes to the door, and Bud pushes himself up.   BUD: Hope you’ve got some singles left. You never know who you’re gonna meet there.   Chuckling, he opens the door. There stands EDNA HYDE, cigarette in one hand and a suitcase in the other.   BUD: Edna?   Hyde jumps to his feet.   HYDE: Mom?   They all stare, no love lost among any of them.

MAIN CREDITS   BUMPER   INT. APARTMENT – NIGHT   Moments later. Bud looks back and forth from his son to his ex-wife. Finally, he chuckles weakly and beckons Edna inside.   BUD: Hey – Edna! Wow, you look so... older.   She rolls her eyes. Hyde fumes behind them as Bud gamely tries to stay chipper.   BUD (cont’d): God, how long’s it been, the three of us all together? Was it that trip out to Milwaukee? You know, the one where they pulled us over on the way back after I hit that deer?   Edna glares, shoves Bud back by the chest as she strolls into the apartment.   EDNA: No, Bud, it was after the trip to Green Bay where you lost your lunch and your beer all over Phil Bengston’s head. Milwaukee was where you met Jo-Jo the wonder ass.   She sits down on the couch. Hyde moves as far away from her as he can without leaving the room, but doesn’t escape her notice.   EDNA (cont’d): (to Bud) I see you picked up our son. (to Hyde) Steven.   HYDE: Edna.   Edna looks him over.   EDNA: You seem like you’ve held up. I knew you’d be fine.   HYDE: Yeah. That really makes up for you taking off with Truck Stop Terry, huh?   Edna scowls at him. Bud clears his throat, laughs weakly, and takes his place back on the couch.   BUD: So, Edna – what brings you back to town? Should we, ah, set a plate out for Truck Stop Terry too?   He looks around for support for the wisecrack but gets none.   EDNA: (to Bud) Truck Stop Terry is halfway to Nebraska with a hooker named Billie and everything I had marked for the pawn shop. I’ve got no cash left and didn’t have any place else to go.   HYDE: Sucks, doesn’t it?   EDNA: Still a smart ass, I see.   HYDE: There’s the attitude that won you “Mother of the Year” seventeen years running.   EDNA: Hey, you’re lucky I stuck around as long as I did in a little dump town like this. I lasted longer than this one.   She points roughly to Bud, who looks anywhere but at the two people in the room with him.   EDNA (cont’d): Anyway, I’m back, aren’t I?   HYDE: Don’t give me that crap. You just said you had nowhere else to go, else you wouldn’t be here now.   BUD: Steven –   HYDE: (to Bud) No, screw this, and screw her! I’ll be at the bar, Dad.   He leaves quickly, slamming the door after him. Edna and Bud shift around on the couch.   EDNA: Like father, like son, huh?   BUD: He’s a good egg, Edna. Hell, he’s keeping me afloat here.   Edna looks up, a searching look in her eye.   EDNA: Yeah?   BUD: Yeah. I’m drowning down at the track. You must’ve done something right with him.   EDNA: Eh. The twitchy kid’s folks had more of him than I did.   She takes a long drag on her cigarette.   BUD: Come on, Ed.   EDNA: (sighs) Well... that fake I.D. he’ll be using at that bar? Who do you think taught him how to get one of those?   Bud gives her a congratulatory gesture as she shrugs and smokes.   CUT TO:   INT. PINCIOTTI LIVING ROOM - NIGHT   That same night. DONNA, JACKIE, and KELSO all sit on the couch. Jackie and Kelso’s homework is spread out over the coffee table, while Donna holds a notebook and pencil in her hands.   DONNA: (to Jackie) So if “x” equals 7, then “y” equals...   JACKIE: 2?   DONNA: Wrong. Kelso?   KELSO: Uh... L?   DONNA: (beat) Also wrong. It’s a pretty simple equation, guys. Just think about it for a second.   Jackie’s face scrunches up in thought. Kelso stares at her, grinning, and gives her a light nudge with his shoulder.   KELSO: You’re so pretty. You don’t even need to know math.   Jackie turns to him, beaming.   JACKIE: That’s so weird. I was just thinking the same thing!   They giggle together. Donna lets out a long sigh.   DONNA: Okay, I think “girls’ study night” needs to go down to just girls.   Jackie pouts at Donna, but Kelso starts gathering his things.   KELSO: Yeah, I’d better get going. (to Jackie) We’re still on for the Hub tomorrow?   JACKIE: Uh-huh.   KELSO: Awesome. See ya then.   He exits.   Donna moves down the couch closer to Jackie.   DONNA: Great. Now maybe we can get some work done.   Not likely; Jackie’s still looking after Kelso’s wake.   JACKIE: Michael’s so sweet. Now that we’ve been spending time together as friends, he’s like a completely different person. He’s changed so much since we broke up.   She sighs. Donna tries to hide her skeptical expression.   JACKIE (cont’d): When I look into his eyes, I can see the maturity and honesty there now. He really has grown up.   Donna’s expression turns disgusted, and turning her head doesn’t hide it anymore. Jackie scowls at Donna.   JACKIE (cont’d): What, you think I’m wrong?   DONNA: Gee, Jackie, let me think. Uh, YEAH! I mean, this is Kelso you’re talking about. Of all the times he’s said he’s learned something and grown up, when has he ever actually learned anything and grown up? And if you’re thinking about getting back together with him -   JACKIE: No, no, no, Donna, I don’t want to get back together with him. (beat) But if I ever did, it’s good to know that he’s ready for a healthy, adult relationship.   DONNA: (looks up) Oh, God, kill me now.   JACKIE: Fine. You don’t believe me? I’ll prove it. I’ll come up with some simple psychological tests that’ll show Michael’s matured.   DONNA: You know, Jackie, that’s a good idea.   JACKIE: It is?   DONNA: Absolutely. If you’re even considering getting back with Kelso, you better have him tested.   BOB and MIDGE enter, carrying two large grocery bags each.   BOB: Hi there, kids.   DONNA: Hey, Dad.   BOB: Listen, sweetie, do your mom and me a favor. This Thursday, would you mind spending the night over at Jackie’s? We’re having a little party here.   DONNA: Well, Dad, I don’t mind. I’ll just stay up in my room.   BOB: Honey, I really think you oughta be out of the house for this one. See, this party is... well, it’s... we’re all gonna be...   MIDGE: It’s a nudist party.   Donna and Jackie both shudder, and Jackie screams. They gather their things and race out of the room. Bob and Midge look after them, then to each other. They shrug and head into the kitchen.   BUMPER   INT. HUB - DAY   The next day, early afternoon. Almost empty. “Breaking Up is Hard to Do” by Neil Sedaka plays on the jukebox.   Jackie and Kelso occupy the wall table, Jackie in the booth seat and Kelso across from her. Jackie’s notebooks and Kelso’s food are spread over the table. Donna and FEZ share a small round table. Fez sits backwards in his chair and plays with the straw of his soda.   FEZ:  So in a nudist party, everyone is nude, yes?   DONNA:  Yeah, Fez.   FEZ: And that includes all the womens?   DONNA: Yeah... and all the men, too.   FEZ: But also all the womens.   He gets a dirty little smile. Donna puts a palm to his face and shoves, sending him flying back from his seat onto the ground.   Jackie looks up over her notes at Kelso, who’s using one of his fries to draw shapes in the blob of ketchup in his basket. Jackie clears her throat.   JACKIE: So, Michael, this assignment I’m working on is about what careers we might want after graduating, and -   KELSO: Oh, I remember that one. I did pretty well on it, too. See, I had two choices. I was considering becoming a doctor...   JACKIE: Ooh, a doctor! That’s so mature.   She looks over Kelso’s shoulder at Donna, who’s watching the scene with a slightly mocking smile. Fez crawls back into his seat.   KELSO: Yeah. Or a rodeo clown. ‘Cause then I’d get to wear a big clown nose and ride around in barrels. Yeah, I think I gotta go with rodeo clown.   Jackie looks dumbstruck as she makes a note in her notebook. Donna puts a hand over her face to hide her laughter.   JACKIE: (beat) Okay... enough about that. So Michael, there are two events occurring this weekend. One that you might like, and one that I would really, really, really, really, really want to go to. Now, should we go see the Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders -   KELSO: Oh, pfft! Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders.   JACKIE: Yes, or -   KELSO:  No, Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders.   JACKIE: But Michael, I want -   KELSO: No, Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders!   A crestfallen Jackie makes another mark in her notebook. Donna, barely holding it together, stands and staggers into the bathroom.   Fez moves from his chair to an empty one by Kelso.   FEZ: So what does one do to get invited to a nudist party?   Jackie covers her face with one hand as Kelso looks off in thought.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN BASEMENT – EVENING   Later that day. THE CIRCLE. Kelso is juggling a single egg.   KELSO: Hey, guys. Check out this egg Jackie gave me to take care of. It’s great for rodeo clown practice. Later I’m gonna find somebody to chuck it at.   Pan to Hyde.   HYDE: Hey, man, I volunteer Edna. An egg to the head is just the sort of “welcome home” greeting you deserve when you roll back into town after riding a trucker around the greater Midwest area.   Pan to ERIC.   ERIC: (to Hyde) Edna? Wait, Hyde – your mom’s back? That’s great, man! I mean – it is great, isn’t it? Because that’s the sort of thing that usually is great, but – I mean... with how your mom left... and not to mention she’s, you know...   He makes a gross face.   Pan to Fez.   FEZ: (to Hyde) Hyde, do you think your parents will be on the guest list for the Pinciotti’s nudist party? Because that is some naked I would like to avoid.   Pan to Kelso, still juggling.   KELSO: Yeah, Bob and Midge are going all out for that one. I was over there with Jackie and saw ‘em settin’ up a keg, and makin’ cheese puffs, and little mini hot dogs, and hard-boiled...   He trails off, catches the egg, and laughs as he stares at it.   Pan to Hyde.   HYDE: (to Eric) Look, Forman. I know how “after-school special” you get over these things, but this is no big deal, all right? So I don’t want you running to get Red or your mom to check up on me, ‘cause me and Bud – we’re okay now, and we can handle... (to Kelso) They have cheese puffs?   Pan to Eric.   ERIC: (to Hyde) Okay, Hyde. If you say so. But I want you to know... damn, now I want cheese puffs! (beat) Hey – maybe my mom made some for dinner!   He and Hyde bolt to the stairs.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN KITCHEN – EVENING   RED and KITTY are in the middle of their meals, but Eric and Hyde are way past that. Their plates empty, they’ve split an entire loaf of bread between them and eat it by the slice. Eric shovels his slices in plain, while Hyde uses the bread to soak up leftover sauce and juices from his plate.   Red does his best to ignore their behavior, but Kitty keeps stealing glances at Hyde.   KITTY: (to Hyde) Steven, this is two nights in a row we’ve had you over for dinner. Is everything alright at home?   His mouth too full to talk, Hyde nods vigorously and reaches for a tall glass of milk.   HYDE: (gulps down milk) Oh yeah, Mrs. Forman, everything’s fine.   He starts in on another bread slice. Kitty looks from him to Eric and laughs.   KITTY: Okay, then. I have a custard pudding for dessert if anyone wants -   Eric and Hyde, both eating, nod and beckon for the pudding without looking up. Kitty retrieves the large pudding bowl from the island, and no sooner sets it on the table than the boys start spooning it onto their plates. Eric is the first to take a bite.   ERIC: (loudly) Oh, God, this is great! (to Hyde) Man, remember the custard your mom used to make at school? That was horrible! God! I hope she’s learned to cook while she was gone.   HYDE: Shut up, Forman!   Too late; Red and Kitty both turn toward Hyde.   KITTY: Your mother’s back?   Eric slams a hand down on the table, drawing his parents’ attention.   ERIC: (loudly) Did I say that? I didn’t say that! Why did I say that? Oh, God, listen to my voice! I’m so loud!   Red and Kitty consider their son for a moment, then turn back to Hyde.   RED: Steven?   HYDE: Yeah, so? She’s back.   KITTY: Well, now, that’s... that is such good news! (laughs) ... Isn’t it?   ERIC: (loudly) That’s what I said! That is just what I said! Is it good or not? Why am I still talking like this?   RED: (to Eric) Hey – stop acting weird. (to Hyde) So, Edna’s back, eh? Well, that sure is... surprising.   KITTY: Yeah. How’s your father taking that?   HYDE: Fine. They sit and shout, just like old times.   Hyde’s gone from eating bread slices to tearing them up. He refuses to meet Kitty’s eye.   KITTY: Oh. (laughs) And how about – how about you, Steven? Are you all right? Because you don’t look all right.   RED: Kitty...   KITTY: Well, Red, the woman just up and left him and then comes traipsing back into town. I think he has some feelings he needs to let out -   HYDE: I’m fine!   He kicks himself back from the table and hurries out the patio door.   Eric stands and reaches out a hand.   ERIC: (loudly) Hyde – come back! We never even asked about the cheese puffs!   When Hyde doesn’t return, Eric collapses back down into his seat and covers his face with his hands, while Red and Kitty share a look.   FADE TO BLACK   COMMERCIAL   BUMPER   INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT   Later that night. Bud and Edna are still on the couch. Beer cans and liquor bottles surround them. Edna has a fresh cigarette and Bud has a cigar. Each has, in their other hand, a large glass filled with whiskey. They laugh uproariously as they clink glasses and take a drink.   Their cavorting keeps them from seeing Hyde enter. He takes in the sight, unsure what to make of it, until Bud finally spies him.   BUD: Steven!   He raises his glass in salute.   HYDE: Bud, you’re drinking?   BUD: (shrugs) What can I say, son? Something about your mother’s always driven me to the bottle.   He cracks up, and so does Edna. They clink glasses again and take another drink.   EDNA: Oh, this is fun! I’d forgotten the good times like this. (to Hyde) Steven, honey, you were probably too young to remember, but there was this one Christmas where the snow was falling and the heat was paid and we’d lifted one of those pre-decorated trees from the store, and we just spent the whole night laughing and shootin’ shots of peppermint Schnapps.   She winks at Bud, who grins and falls into a bobbing nod with his head.   HYDE: Actually, I do remember that Christmas. You locked up and passed out before I got back from Forman’s. I spent the night outside.   EDNA: (beat) Oh. Well, you still have all your toes, right? So it all worked out.   Her glass is empty. She refills it while Bud leans way back into the couch.   BUD: Steven, I’ve got good news – your mom’s moving in.   HYDE: What?   BUD: Yeah. Isn’t it great?   HYDE: No!   He crosses behind the couch and looms over his parents.   HYDE (cont’d): God, how do you do this – both of you? You screw me, you screw each other, you both ditch everything, and then you both roll back into town and in two days you just decide you’re back together? What the hell is wrong with you, man?   BUD: (shrugs) We’re Hydes!   He and Edna crack up again. Edna pats on the stool by the couch; very reluctantly, Hyde sits.   EDNA: Steven, this is just the way life is. So we all screwed each other over, boo-hoo. And we all thought we’d take off and find something better, but we didn’t.   HYDE: Speak for yourself, Edna.   EDNA: Oh, yeah? So why’re you here instead of hiding out in that spindly kid’s basement?   Hyde looks at her. She nods slowly.   EDNA (cont’d): Yeah, Bud filled me in on all that. You’re gonna tell me a hard ass like Red Forman wasn’t one slip-up away from tossing you out?   BUD: Hell – the few times I’ve been by, I’m surprised he didn’t throw me out. He is one angry, scary, shiny-headed S.O.B.   Hyde stares at the ground, his left hand holding his right fist.   EDNA: My point is, Steven, we’re all back with each other now, and people like us... we get what we get. Sitting around going over all the bad times – well, that’s not gonna do any good. This is where we’re stuck, and we’ve gotta make things work.   BUD: (to Hyde) It’s all I’ve been trying to do. And Ed moving in, that’s settled. Now, if you’ll spot me a few more bucks, your mother and I have a lot of things to take care of tomorrow.   Hyde’s head bows lower. He can’t find a retort. Edna grabs a liquor bottle and presses it into his hands.   EDNA: Now come on, baby. Why don’t you buck up and have a drink with your mom and dad?   Slowly, somewhat reluctantly, Hyde sits up and takes the bottle, gives it a sniff.   HYDE: This Beam’s Choice?   His parents nod. Hyde clinks the bottle against their raised glasses, and they all drink.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN BASEMENT - DAY   The next day, just after school. Kelso is still juggling Jackie’s egg. Fez and Donna sit on the couch, watching him. Donna shakes her head and tries not to laugh. Kelso notices and turns to present more of the show to her.   KELSO: Man, I am gonna be such a good rodeo clown.   Donna claps a hand over her mouth. Fez looks from her to Kelso, confused.   FEZ: I don’t get it. He’s not even really juggling. He only has one egg.   Kelso catches the egg.   KELSO: Oh, yeah? Well, we’ll see about that, Fez.   He heads up the stairs. Donna leans on the armrest of the couch.   DONNA: He is such a moron. He is so gonna fail Jackie’s test.   FEZ: Test? What test?   DONNA: Well, I’m not supposed to say anything, but Jackie’s testing Kelso to see if he’s really grown into a more mature, honest guy.   Fez gives Donna a long look, then breaks into laughter. Donna joins him, and they end up leaning against each other.   FEZ: That can’t be going well, can it?   DONNA: Duh! He’s already failed two tests, and the second that egg breaks, he fails the third. Jackie wants to see if he’s responsible now, so she told him she needed him to look after it for a few days.   Kelso bounds back down the stairs, his arms filled with eggs.   KELSO: Okay, Fez. How do you like – this?   He starts tossing the eggs into the air one by one. He manages maybe one-and-a-half rounds before they start to get away from him. The eggs land on the floor by his feet, they fly across the room – some even land on his arms and shoulders. When he tries to retreat, he slips on egg yolk and barely avoids crashing back into the TV, instead falling into the lawn chair.   KELSO (cont’d): Dammit! That’s it – I’m sticking with barrel riding.   FEZ: (to Donna) Well, that’s another “F” on the tests of love, am I right?   Donna tries to shush him, but it’s too late; Kelso heard.   KELSO: What do you mean?   Over Donna’s objections, Fez goes on:   FEZ: Just that when you broke those eggs you broke Jackie’s egg, and you failed the third test she has put to you to see if you have matured.   Donna puts a hand to her forehead. Very slowly, Kelso stands back up.   KELSO: Wait... so Jackie – the girl I love more than anything in the world – she’s been testing me? Why? Is she seeing if we should get back together?   DONNA: I’m not sure, but if she wants to, this is what she’s basing it on.   KELSO: So by breaking that egg, I failed the test? And all the others so far, I failed those too, and I lost my chance to win Jackie back forever?   Donna and Fez both nod.   KELSO: (beat) Okay, so when’s the make-up test?   Donna completely buries her head in her hands as Fez gives a slow and condescending shake of his head.   CUT TO:   INT. PINCIOTTI LIVING ROOM - DAY   Almost everything is in place for the party. A table is set up near the wall for food and punch, the furniture has been pushed to the sides to leave space open for dancing, and the keg is set up. But it hasn’t started yet – Bob and Midge still have their clothes on.   MIDGE: I think that’s everything, Bob.   BOB: Not quite, Midgie. Time to seal the place up good. Ready?   They nod together. Cut to:   MONTAGE, set to the theme from MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE. Bob and Midge go through every room in their house, sealing up doors and windows. Blinds are drawn, curtains are pulled, tacky photos of Bob in an Elvis costume are hung on the little window in the front door, and Midge covers up the bathroom mirror with a towel before Bob comes in and moves the towel to cover the window.   The montage ends with quick cuts showing all the sealed spaces in the house, ending with one left unattended: a small corner of the living room window, where the blinds haven’t properly shut. Fez’s head looms there, grinning and nodding in delight.   CUT TO:   EXT. FORMAN DRIVEWAY – DAY   Hyde shoots hoops alone. He looks like hell. Red and Eric, dressed for work at Price Mart, come outside from the kitchen.   RED: Steven. There you are.   HYDE: Oh, hey, Red. Forman.   RED: Eric tells me you missed school today.   ERIC: Um, Dad, I thought we weren’t gonna mention that part.   RED: (to Eric) Look, your mother’s making me do this, and if it goes to Hell, I’m taking someone down with me.   HYDE: No, Red, it’s okay. Edna’s moving in, so I took the day to, you know, get the place cleared up a bit. And sleep off the “welcome home” party we had last night.   He cackles. Red isn’t amused.   RED: Your mom and dad couldn’t “clear up?” Or were they “sleeping it off” – up their ass?   HYDE: Nah, man. They’ve been out all day. Had some things to pick up – another bed, a dresser, chairs -   ERIC: Wait, I thought your dad was almost broke. How can they afford that? Unless... I mean, your mom’s always given it away for free, but I guess when you’re on the road, desperate times...   Red glares at him.   RED: Can it.   ERIC: Yes, sir.   RED: (to Hyde) Well?   Hyde shifts on his feet, not meeting either Forman’s eyes.   RED (cont’d): Is your dad hitting you up for money again?   HYDE: (short, tense) It’s fine. I’m fine. We worked things out, and it’s gonna be okay. (beat) They’re my folks. You get what you get, you know?   ERIC: What – no! Hyde, that’s not how it works. They can’t do that to you. (to Red) Dad, say something.   Red holds up a hand to quiet Eric and gives Hyde a hard look.   RED: Look, Steven, I know what you’re hoping for. But your parents... the thing is, son -   HYDE: Hey, I’m not your son! I was only even here so long as I toed the line, right? One strike and I’m out, right Red?   Red’s face hardens. Seeing his dad’s expression, Eric inches back away from him.   HYDE (cont’d): Will you just butt out? You too, Forman! All of you!   He throws the basketball into the garage and storms off. The hedges and trees begin to rustle in a growing wind. Eric shivers, and even Red seems cold.   ERIC: Dad?   RED: Yeah?   ERIC: I thought Hell would be warmer.   Red looks up at the sky.   RED: Damn spring snows.   They head inside, Eric hugging himself tightly, as snowflakes start to fall.   BUMPER   INT. HUB - DAY   A busier afternoon. The snow outside is falling heavily now. “Crazy on You” by Heart plays on the jukebox. Jackie is back at the wall table, sharing the booth seat with Donna as they study.   Kelso enters, bundled up for the weather. In his hands is an egg stuffed into a scarf stuffed into a tissue box. Slowly, with great care, he walks over to the girls and gingerly sets the box down before sitting down across from them.   KELSO: Hey, guys.   Jackie and Donna look from each other to the egg.   JACKIE: (to Kelso) What’s that?   KELSO: Oh, it’s just this little crib-like thing I made for Eggy.   DONNA: “Eggy?”   KELSO: Yeah. And I couldn’t leave him exposed in all this cold, ‘cause that would be immature and irresponsible.   He makes a big show of nodding. Donna puts a hand to her forehead. Jackie picks up the egg and checks the bottom.   JACKIE: Michael, what happened to the pencil mark I made on the bottom?   Kelso takes the egg from her and checks the bottom. He looks to Donna, who just sighs and shakes her head.   KELSO: (to Jackie) Oh. Must have come off when I was giving him his gentle bath.   Donna rolls her eyes; she can’t believe what she’s hearing. Jackie puts a hand to her heart.   JACKIE: Michael, I knew you had this in you. After all this time, you really have become mature, responsible, and honest.   KELSO: Yeah – that’s me! Mr. Mature, Responsible, Honest Guy!   He grins and nods like a doofus. Jackie smiles back at him. Donna shakes her head.   The grin slowly slips off Kelso’s face. He glances down at the egg and sets it back in its “crib.”   KELSO (cont’d): Actually, Jackie – I found out about the tests. And I broke the egg you gave me and tried to cover it up, which wasn’t very honest or mature. So maybe, whatever the tests were for, I don’t deserve it.   He pushes the egg toward Jackie and gets up.   KELSO (cont’d): I’m sorry. See ya.   He leaves. Donna and Jackie stare after him, mouths agape.   DONNA: Oh, my God. He owned up. Before it all blew up in his face.   JACKIE: Yes, he did. (beat) Which is the honest, mature thing to do. So he has changed!   She beams and scribbles down some notes.   DONNA: And you were right. So if Kelso learned something, and you were right about something... and if it’s snowing this late in spring... I think those are three signs of the end of the world.   She stares into space, in shock, as Jackie swats her on the shoulder.   BUMPER   INT. HALL - EVENING   The hallway of Bud’s apartment complex. It doesn’t look much better than the room. Hyde walks up to his door, a small, wrapped parcel tucked under one arm. He tries his key on the door, but it doesn’t unlock.   The LANDLORD, a greasy-looking old man, appears at the other end of the hall. He has Hyde’s knapsack in his hands.   LANDLORD: They’re gone, kid.   He heads up the hall to meet Hyde.   HYDE: What do you mean?   LANDLORD: Gone, left, split. Came in from the dog tracks a few hours ago with a huge wad of dough and a big bottle of hooch and cleared out.   He pushes the sack into Hyde’s free arm.   LANDLORD (cont’d): They left this. Said to give it to you.   HYDE: (beat) Did they say where they were going?   LANDLORD: (shakes head) Sorry.   Hyde just stares down at the sack in his hand. The landlord starts back down the hall, then steps back and puts a hand on Hyde’s shoulder.   LANDLORD (cont’d): Look, kid. I hate to drop bad news on ya like this...   He takes a slip of paper from his pocket.   LANDLORD (cont’d): But on their way out, your folks didn’t settle their damages.   He holds the bill out to Hyde, who finally looks up.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN BASEMENT - NIGHT   Eric lies on the couch and reads a magazine, his Price Mart smock open. Instrumental rock plays softly on the radio.   The basement door opens, and Hyde steps in, covered in snow. His sack is slung over his shoulder and the wrapped parcel is still under his arm. Eric sits up, and the two of them regard one another for a moment.   ERIC: Hey.   HYDE: Hey. (beat) Uh, Forman, are Red and Kitty home?   ERIC: They turned in for the night. Do you need something?   Hyde crosses to the other side of the couch and sits down. He throws his sack into his chair and sets the parcel on the coffee table.   HYDE: Nah, man. Just – you know, turns out Edna left some things behind, so her and my dad, they went to pick ‘em up, and I thought... you know, just for a few days, if the basement’s free...   ERIC: Uh, yeah. Yeah, of course.   Hyde nods. He looks down at the parcel, and Eric follows his eyeline.   ERIC: (nods to parcel) Whatcha got there?   HYDE: Oh, it’s nothing. Just now that Bud and Edna n’ me, we’re all back together so I thought, you know, I’d get something for the apartment.   ERIC: Oh... well, that’s nice. That’s really nice.   He scratches at the back of his head, running short on words.   Hyde slams a fist down hard on the parcel. It makes an awful shattering noise. For good measure, he throws it at the wall, just above the TV.   Hyde sinks back into his seat and stares straight ahead, his breathing heavy. Eric, bug-eyed, looks slowly from the shattered parcel to Hyde.   ERIC: (voice breaking) Well... hey! Now it’ll match your dad’s décor!   He giggles nervously. Hyde just keeps staring at nothing. “Behind Blue Eyes” by the Who comes over the radio.   ERIC (cont’d): (beat) You know, Hyde... “a few days...” weeks... months... when you live in a little town like this, they all just sort of roll together.   Hyde’s head won’t turn, or his breath steady. Eric pats Hyde on the shoulder and moves to get up. Hyde’s hand catches his arm. Still looking ahead, Hyde’s face is a stone about to crack.   Eric sits back down, and he and Hyde adjust their arms to be around each other’s shoulders. They both stare at the wall as the radio keeps playing.   FADE TO BLACK   CREDITS   INT. PINCIOTTI LIVING ROOM - NIGHT   The party. Riotous samba music plays. We see nothing except the living room window, with shadows occasionally passing by the blinds. A slow pan takes us to Fez, watching from the one gap in the blinds in ecstasy.   BOB (v.o.): Okay, everybody – limbo!   A cheer erupts from the party guests. The shadows move, suggesting a limbo. Fez’s eyes go wide, and he falls back in a faint.   END.

[emeraldwaves]

Title: With Blue Flames and Ice we Freeze For @villainmonth Day 1 - Monster Pairing:  DabiGeten Rating: T Word Count: 2,606 Read on Ao3 Summary:  

Living in Hell isn't Dabi's first choice, but after getting kicked out of Heaven, he's stuck. It's a pain in his ass, especially when his father forces him to undergo the Trials of Hell in order to prepare him to be the next King of Hell. Dabi isn't particularly interested in facing the various 'Sins', but this is his 'fate'. With Geten to guide him, Dabi suffers as they descend together into the depths of Hell.

Thank you to @amaisenshi and @ohmytheon for reading this over <3

Hell is shit.

It smells like shit. It looks like shit. The air even tastes like shit.

It's just shit.

He supposes it's nice being able to call it shit. Not being able to swear in Heaven sucked.

But the real reason Hell is shit is the demon standing in front of him. His father, the King of Hell, Todoroki Enji.

"Touya-"

"Dabi," he snaps. If he's going to be here, doing this whole 'demon thing', he might as well embrace it right?

Plus, he likes seeing the way his father's eye twitches when he corrects him like that.

"Touya," Enji snarls, his voice darker than the first time.

"What?" he answers, deciding not to argue with him any further. It's never worth it. For someone who's a prince, he doesn't have an awful lot of freedom.

'You'll love Hell,' his father had told him. 'As a prince, you'll be able to do whatever you want.'

What a big fat fucking joke that was.

There hadn't been one day down here that Enji hadn't bothered him. Dabi has lost track of how long he's been here, but he's seen Enji's face too many damn times so he's been here for far too long.

"Come with me to throne room," Enji demands.

Dabi rolls his eyes. He's comfortable in his bed, meaning he doesn't want to move, especially not for the sake of his father.

"Why?"

"Because I said so," Enji booms.

"Touchy," Dabi hums, swinging his legs over the bed, his turquoise eyes finally meeting his father's.

As per usual, flames cover the majority of his father's body. They lick at his face, covering his eyes, his forehead and upper lip. The demon probably thinks it looks intimidating and scary; something fitting for the devil, but Dabi thinks it’s dumb as shit.

Just like the rest of Hell.

He supposes it is fitting in a way.

"I don't know why you insist on acting like a child," Enji scoffs. "Perhaps I was wrong about you being ready." He mutters the last statement under his breath, as if he'll lure Dabi in and make him question what it is he said. The truth is, Dabi couldn't care less.

Enji stares at him expectantly.

"Alright, then I guess I'm not ready." He lays back down. Why not? Anything to make his father's flames flicker with rage.

"So you did hear me then."

"Yup," Dabi says, folding his hands behind his head as he stares at the cavern ceiling.

"Todoroki Touya," Enji snaps, the fire flaring up against his face and chest. "You will meet me in the throne room and you change out of this ridiculous get up. We have much to discuss. I will no longer tolerate your lazy behavior."

"Sure father," he hisses. Enji glares at him before he snaps his fingers, disappearing from the cavern.

Dabi sighs, running his hand down his face. On the list of things he doesn't want to do, talking more to his father is way at the top; above getting up, being active, living in Hell... etc.

But it's not like he can avoid the asshole forever. He’ll just snap his way back here if Dabi doesn’t show up.

Pushing himself out of bed, he stumbles towards his bathroom. He doesn't really think his get up is ridiculous, especially compared to his father... though he supposes the scars on his face are a bit... much.

But he likes to remind his father of what he did.

And maybe he likes to remind himself too. Every time he looks at his face, he hears his own screams, feels the flames of Hell searing into his angelic skin.

There's a small part of him that wonders what his father wants. It's not that he cares, but he wonders what Enji plans on bothering him with now.

He swallows, pulling in a long breath of air, letting the demonic horns curl over the top of his dark hair, a long demon tail curling around his body. He holds up his hand, letting blue flames cover the tips of his fingers. It burns, but it's a sensation he's used to. It's almost lethargic; painfully soothing. His eyes slowly drift to black, the turquoise of his irises covered in the demonic look his eyes now give off.

He looks like he belongs here.

He moves his fingers and extinguishes the flames, letting out a bored sigh. Hell wouldn't be so bad if his father would leave him alone.

"Morning, Touya!'

Another sigh slips from his lips, desperately trying to hold in his aggravation. "'Yumi," he mutters, turning to look at his twin sister. She's standing in the doorway of his cavern, looking far too happy for her own good. "It's not really morning. It can't ever be morning."

Fuyumi tilts her head, her bright white locks bouncing against her cheek. "Yeah, but... you just woke up!"

Again he wants to clarify they don't really sleep here, but he's not going to argue with his twin, especially not when she's coming to him all chipper. "Sure," he mutters, flicking his tail back and forth.

"You're looking especially demonic today," she hums.

"Boss' orders," he says, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Dad? He asked you to look like your demon-self? Do you think I should too?" She glances down at herself. As always Fuyumi looks out of place for, well, "a demon" with her long pants and her way-too-hot-to-be-worn in Hell sweater.

He and Fuyumi always were opposites; two sides of the same coin. While he had been born with demonic energy, she had been born with pure angelic energy... which she gave up, to be with her family in Hell.

Dabi, on the other hand, wouldn't have given up Heaven for anything, especially not their horrible devil of a father. He had had no choice in the matter; Heaven spat him out so fast, he could barely remember what it looked like.

"No. He only asked to see me," Dabi snorts. "Besides you suck at controlling your demonic energy." He stands in front of her and notices the way her pale cheeks heat up.

"I-I don't! I could handle a little..." she mutters, glancing away. Since she doesn't try anything, Dabi assumes she hasn't actually gotten better at all. "Anyway," she says, clearing her throat as she follows him out of the cavern. He could use his powers to snap around Hell all he wants, but he doesn't mind taking the long elevator down to the throne room; anything to keep Enji waiting longer.

"Do you know why he called for you?"

Dabi clicks his tongue. "Does he ever tell me that sort of shit?"

"I guess not," Fuyumi sighs, looking down at the ground with such sadness in her eyes it almost makes Dabi feel bad. The problem is, Fuyumi is hell bent on getting them to be a happy demon family, and Dabi knows it's never going to happen; not with Enji as their father.

She had it so good in Heaven too; able to stay with their mother and Natsuo... but she had claimed she needed to be with her twin and so she willing gave up being an angel, something Dabi never would've done had the situation been reversed.

He supposes that's why he was born more demon than angel.

"I don't really care what this meeting is about," he says, pushing the button to the elevator waiting for it to rise up.

Fuyumi narrows her eyes. "Then why are you going?" She acts, for a moment, like Dabi has some kind of say in this matter.

"Well," he sighs, rolling his head back, his dark eyes looking more tired than before. "I don't exactly have a choice."

"Right," she whispers, and stays quiet for the rest of the elevator ride. He can tell she wants to speak to him, but he knows she's unsure of what to say. By now she knows she's not going to change Dabi's opinions on anything, especially not when it comes to their father.

When the old elevator clamors to the ground, halting at its destination, Dabi steps off, leading the way towards the main throne room. He hopes that whatever his father has to say, it'll be over quickly.

Stepping into the wide throne room, he stares at the flames which cover the large, stone chair. It stands tall, the flames making the chair look deceptively taller and Enji sits, basking in the heat.

The room is mostly empty, minus a few paths of lava which line the corner. It's hot in this room and though Dabi is supposed to be immune to the temperatures in Hell, he's feeling it... admittedly he's felt the fluctuating temperatures of Hell for the majority of his ‘life’. There's not much in this large room, but the throne is enough to prove how much power Enji has, with the swift movement of his hand he can adjust the size of the flames.

"You certainly took your time," Enji barks, pushing himself out of the chair.

"You told me to look the part. I had to get ready," Dabi shrugs, and he loves the vein twitching on Enji's brow.

"And you brought Fuyumi I see," he says, walking down the small steps to stand on the ground in front of them.

"She showed up," Dabi says.

"Good morning, Father!"

"Good morning, Fuyumi. Unfortunately, this is only important for your brother," Enji snaps, his eyes scanning Fuyumi up and down.

They all know she's not the strongest here, which means Enji prefers to pretend like she barely exists.

"It's alright-" she starts to say, but Enji cuts her off.

"The time has come Touya. I will be testing you to see if you are worthy to take over as the King of Hell once I am gone."

Dabi's eyes narrow, his glare burning towards his father. "Forget it. I'm leaving."

"This isn't an option, Touya. I've been training you for years to prepare you for these trials. You will face the appointed sins and they will be the ones to deem if you are worthy," Enji explained.

Sounds like a lot of effort.

"No thanks," Dabi snorts, folding his arms across his chest.

"Touya, this isn't something you can say no to. You are my eldest son and you possess the strongest demonic energy of all my children. It is your fate to eventually take over as the King of Hell."

"No," he snaps. "That's just what you want my fate to be."

Flames shoot out from the throne, Enji's temper flaring. "You do not have a choice. What do you not understand about that?" He steps forward, glaring down at Dabi. "You're holding on to a useless dream. You will never be an angel and you will never see that woman again. You must let it go and complete the trials to take my place."

"Dad..." Fuyumi whispers, reaching forward to take Dabi's hand. She's so kind; far too kind to be trapped in Hell for the rest of her afterlife.

He yanks his hand away from Fuyumi, flicking his demon tail back and forth. He feels the flames licking under his skin, the anger... the frustration. The thing that bothers him the most is when Enji is right.

He glances towards the throne and clenches his fists. Is this really to be his fate? Will he be trapped in Hell for eternity? A king... and a monster?

Unless...

Dabi has always loved pissing his father off. The idea of kicking him off his own throne does sound slightly appealing. As the King, he could do whatever he wanted with this ‘hell hole’ and Enji would have no say.

"Fine," he whispers. "I'll do your trials." If only to take Enji down, if only to replace him and maybe find a way to make this place slightly bearable. He lives to annoy his father.

"Glad to see you've come around," Enji says, making his way back up to the throne. Sitting down, he rests his chin on his hand. "I'll be introducing you to your guide."

Guide? Why the hell does he need a guide?

"Geten." Enji snaps his fingers.

Within an icy cloud, a woman appears. It shocks Dabi, how angelic she looks. Long white hair, flows down her back and her eyes are icy blue. She's wearing a thick parka, a bizarre clothing choice, given how hot it is in Hell. She doesn't look phased to be standing in the throne room, instead she looks bored.

"Geten, this is my son, Touya. You will be guiding him through the trials."

"Mmm." She makes a soft noise, holding her hand out. Her fingertips glisten with sparkling ice as she flicks her hand forward, creating a long path of ice right in front of Dabi. She takes a step and slides down it, moving directly in front of him, her nose inches away from his. Up close her skin seems to glisten with the ice she controls, her pale face smooth and lovely. She doesn't look anything like a demon.

She leans in towards him, her blue eyes narrowing. "This scrawny fucker? You're trying to make him the next king?"

Well, her mouth doesn't suit her appearance.

Dabi folds his arms behind his head. "Don't bother arguing with him. He's just going to tell you it's 'my fate'."

She snorts. "If you can actually make it through the trials."

Dabi shrugs. "It's not like I can die."

Enji sighs. "Touya, if you lose all your demonic energy, you will end up in Purgatory."

"Oh no," he says dryly. As if he would let that happen, and even if it did, he couldn't imagine it being any worse than Hell. It doesn't matter where he is, since he can never go back to the place he wants to be.

"Touya..." Enji growls.

"My first order as King will be to have everyone call me Dabi," he snaps. Anything to rid himself of the shitty name his father bestowed upon him.

"Aren't you pleasant?" Geten mutters, folding her arms, the ice melting around her feet. "Well let's get going. Time for you to face your doom."

"Is a guide supposed to be this pessimistic?" Dabi asks.

"We're demons. What do you expect?"

He glances her up and down, wondering if she actually is a demon. A woman who shimmers so brightly shouldn't be in the dark caverns of Hell... and why does she have strange ice powers.

"I wish you luck, Touya," Enji says, nodding as Geten begins to walk off, heading behind the throne towards the depths of Hell. Touya has never been down there, for obvious reasons. It's only meant for the King and higher-ranked demons; the Sins.

"Touya!" Fuyumi calls out before he can leave and she rushes to him, hugging him. "Please be safe."

He grunts, stumbling backwards a bit, but he knows she means well; the one person he can't push away. "Quit fuckin' worrying," he mutters, pulling back.

"I know. I just... be careful..."

He nods to her, purposefully not looking at his father as he walks by the throne, hands tucked into his pockets. He doesn't particularly want to do these trials, but if it means knocking his father down a bit, he supposes it'll be worth it.

Geten stands beyond the throne, ice dripping from her fingertips. She still looks bored, as if this is the worst burden placed on her. They share that in common.

Going deeper into Hell only reminds Dabi of what he thought all along:

Hell really is shit.

[thedailyimagines]

Imagine being Artemis’ twin brother, the guy who makes most her gear.

Anon requested: “Being Artemis’s Twin Brother and your family reacting to you dying your hair black because you feel ashamed of yourself for looking like Sportsmaster.”

Anon requested: “Imagine being an inventor and gifting Artemis a small hologram device that contains an artificial copy of Wally’s consciousness and memories [whom you ask permission to help you with the project] sometime after his death, hoping it would help her recover. (The device is similar to the Alfor’s AI in Voltron)”

~~~~~~~~

You’d always looked more like your father. Artemis has some similarities to him, but nobody ever really made the comparison once they knew the secret. Besides, nobody was going to tell the young archer that she looked like Sportsmaster; that was just asking for a long distance ass-kicking.

You though? Ever since puberty hit, you had become taller and more muscular. Normally this wouldn’t have been a bad thing, but it made you look so much more like your father and you hated it. No more “this is Artemis’ twin brother”; instead all you heard was “this is Sportsmaster’s son.”

So you decided to dye your hair. Standing in the hair care aisle, scoping out all the colors, you felt slightly overwhelmed. Brown, red, orange, purple—they even had rainbow! How was anyone supposed to pick a color?

...Maybe it was best to start simple. You grabbed a box of black hair dye, went to the register, and left the small corner store with your purchase.

<—>

“What the hell did you do to your hair?!?!” Y/n ignored the annoyed tone of Lawrence Crock and tightened a few screws on his invention.

“Relax dad. It’s just hair dye.” The phone was taken from Sportsmaster and Jade Nguyen (aka Cheshire), examined her younger brother’s new hair color.

“I think it looks nice. Adds some mystery to you. Like a goth vibe.” The phone was taken back And Lawrence spoke again to y/n.

“Exactly my point. You look like some kind of punk!”

“And you care why?” Sportsmaster shook his head in frustration.

“Listen, I was fine with you doing your whole inventing thing—”

“Engineering.”

“Whatever it is. But dying your hair is going a bit far.” A bit far? Like training your kids to be assassins wasn’t going a bit far. Hypocrite.

“Sure dad. Listen, I’m kinda busy, I’ll talk to you later.” Y/n hung up the video call before could say anything else. A woman in a wheelchair came out of the apartment’s kitchen and gave y/n a questioning look.

“Your father?” The inventor nodded and kept working on the machine in front of him.

“And Jade. They called me to ask for something and then dad told me he didn’t like my hair.” Paula Nguyen-Crock rolled her eyes and ruffled her son’s hair. She knew that the boy and his father had a...complicated relationship, and more often than not Lawrence had pushed y/n aside for his more combat-skilled siblings.

“Well I think it looks fine. How is your project going?” Y/n set the small metal box on the table and tapped the edge of the camera lens gently.

“I think it’ll be done soon, I just need to run a few tests.” Paula gave her son a gentle squeeze on his shoulder.

“Artemis will love it.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

<—>

It was finished. After many trials and errors, y/n had finally finished his invention. All that was left to do was deliver it to Artemis.

Sneaking into her apartment was actually pretty easy, considering that the League and the YJ team insisted on high security. You found your twin in her kitchen.

“Hey Arty.” Before you could blink, there was a kitchen knife in the wall beside your head. Artemis turned, then relaxed when she saw it was only you.

“Y/n! Don’t scare me like that!” Y/n let out a laugh and hugged his sister, careful of the box in his hands.

“My bad. You should really get some better security, I got in pretty fast this time.”

“You know, if you worked for the League—”

“Hard pass. I’ll stick to freelance hacker and security advisor for now.”

“Suit yourself. What’s that?”

“This? This is a gift for you.”

“Looks like a movie projector or something.”

“Close but not quite. Let me show you.” Y/n walked out to the living room and placed the metal box on the coffee table. He spoke while fiddling with several buttons on the top of the box.

“This is actually a project me and Wally were working on before...y’know. It was meant for any League members who wanted to leave behind an interactive record of themselves for the future.” Artemis shook her head, not knowing what her brother was getting at.

“I don’t understand.”

“Here.” Y/n pressed a final button and a hologram of a person appeared. When the image stabilized, Artemis nearly fainted.

“Wally?” The hologram of Wally smiled and nodded. Y/n adjusted the sound system and explained.

“We needed to test out what worked, so Wally volunteered to be the guinea pig. It’s an artificial copy of his consciousness and memories.”

“Hey Artemis. I’m guessing by the look on your face that you weren’t expecting this?”

“You-you’re-” Holo-Wally just nodded.

“I know. Y/n told me when he finally got the cube working. By the way, nice job dude.” Y/n gave the hologram of his friend a nod and turned to Artemis.

“I know it’s not really him here, but I thought you should get to talk with him again. I’ll leave you two alone. Call me if you need anything.” Artemis tackled her twin in a tight hug.

“Thank you.”

~~~~~~~~

I don’t own the above gifs, all credits go to the owners.