#who has space for anger when you must become a mother at 12?

[saving-word-crawls]

Journey Towards the Sun Crawl

By: MelusineDreams

The names of those who in their lives fought for life, Who wore at their hearts the fire’s centre. Born of the sun, they travelled a short while toward the sun And left the vivid air signed with their honour.”

The Truly Great by Stephen Spender | Poetry Foundation

I think continually of those who were truly great.

By choosing to write and sharing in the mystery of creation, we embrace life. Preparing for or beginning a month of writing, planning our lofty goals, we may fear flying too close to the sun as Icarus did and plummeting to defeat. Whether editing/revising or creating a new story, we will constantly confront the struggle to be worthy of our own goals and ideals.

In this challenge, journey fearlessly through our solar system to the heart of life, the sun.

Sprint for the words or minutes suggested or pick one unit of writing you will repeat for each step.

There are ten steps, so you could pick 1000 words if you want to write 10K or 30 minutes if you want to write for five hours.

Journey Toward the Sun:

You have traveled long and far in your small but hardy craft, passed through other solar systems and vast distances of space, crossed into our galaxy, and streaked through the sparkling field of the Milky Way, tempted by our beautiful, bright star, the sun.

Out in the distant reaches of the Kuiper Belt, so far that the spacecraft sent from Earth took nearly ten years to arrive, you pass PLUTO, once named our ninth planet, now demoted to a dwarf planet. Its temperature is an icy -229°C. (If you do not want to recognize Pluto, you could substitute your own prompt for Earth’s Moon close to the Earth prompt below.)

In Roman mythology, Pluto is king of the underworld perhaps best known for his abduction of Proserpina to be his bride. Proserpina’s mother Ceres, a goddess of agriculture and crops, goes into such mourning for her lost daughter that Earth becomes barren.

A compromise is reached after it is revealed that Proserpina has eaten six pomegranate seeds and therefore cannot leave the land of the dead: she must remain as the Queen of the Underworld for six months of the year, and while Ceres mourns her missing child, we have Fall and Winter. For Spring and Summer, Proserpina returns, and Earth rejoices with flowers and fruits of the earth. (The dwarf planet Ceres has water and scientists believe it is one of the most promising planets for possibly finding life!)

Write for 229 words for Pluto’s temperature or for 12 minutes to represent all the months of the seasons, or for your chosen unit of words or time.

Are there any themes of loss, mourning, a perilous journey, a dark night of the soul, death and rebirth, familial or marital conflict, or a wrong that cannot be fully righted in your story? What are the irrevocable “pomegranate seeds” for your MC?

Next you reach icy gas giant NEPTUNE, tinted blue by methane and appropriately named for the Roman god of the sea, also associated with fresh water and horses.

File:Walter Crane - Neptune's Horses (1910).jpg - Wikimedia Commons

Winds reach 1200 miles an hour, and the pressure is so great that it could rain diamonds. Neptune’s year is nearly 165 Earth years, so Neptune has only orbited the sun once since its discovery in 1846. It is more than 30 times as far from the sun as is Earth. Neptune the god also creates storms, tsunamis, and earthquakes, as well as new bodies of water, with a blow of his trident when angered.

Write for 1200 words or 165 words or 30 minutes or your chosen unit of words or time.

Are there any cataclysmic storms, earthquakes, or other natural disasters in your story? What is the outcome? What about great human cataclysms of conflict? From destruction sometimes new direction and creation arise. Does the sea (or other bodies of water), the origin of life, play a role in your story?

Soaring onward towards the sun, you come to oddball ice giant URANUS, with its spin axis tilted 98 degrees so it is spinning on its side as it circles the sun. Scientists believe that an impact or impacts caused this tilt. Also, as NASA explains: “Uranus’ unique sideways rotation makes for weird seasons. The planet’s north pole experiences 21 years of nighttime in winter, 21 years of daytime in summer and 42 years of day and night in the spring and fall.” https://solarsystem.nasa.gov/planets/

Uranus is the Greek god of the sky, cited as both son and husband of Gaia, the Earth goddess—showing perhaps the “which comes first, chicken or egg?” dilemma ancient Greeks faced in pondering the order of creation! Uranus hates his and Gaia’s children, the Titans, and is deposed in a bloody struggle with his son Saturn.

Uranus has 13 known rings and 27 known moons, mostly named for characters from Shakespeare.

Write for 13 + 27 minutes or 13 x 27 words or your chosen unit of words or time.

Are any of your characters permanently off their axis, out of whack with their surroundings? How do they adapt and carry on? Any bloody or otherwise impassioned power struggles between generations?

If yours is a fantasy or science fiction piece, could there be unusual settings such as the strange seasons of Uranus? Are there any Shakespearean archetypes sneaking around in your story, a Titania, Oberon, Ariel or a Caliban? A tragic Ophelia, Cordelia, or Desdemona?

Next comes striking gas giant SATURN, with its spectacular rings of ice, dust, and rock extending out 175,000 miles, and orbited by over 60 moons. About twice every 30 or so years, the rings seem to disappear when they are aligned on edge to us. Less dense than water, the planet would float if you could put it in water! Winds at the equator can reach 1,118 miles per hour. Saturn spins so fast, a day lasts only 10 hours and 14 minutes.

From the Roman god Saturn, we derive both “Saturday” and “Saturnalia,” appropriate to Saturn’s role as a sort of patron saint of partying, a god of plenty, wealth, and abundance but also of dissolution. He is also the god of agriculture (and later, of time). The Saturnalia celebration was a time of great revelry that included deadly gladiatorial contests.

Write for 1118 words or 60 minutes or your chosen unit of words or time.

Does your story take place in a time or in a place of prosperity and plenty, of decadence or dissolution? Is there an equivalent to feasting to the point of debauchery or fighting in contests to the point of death? If your story has a sci-fi setting or fantasy, are its days unusually short or long?

Out the window of your small craft looms massive JUPITER, the largest planet in the solar system and appropriately named for the Roman god of the sky and thunder, ruler of the gods. Jupiter is 11 times wider than Earth and more than twice the size of the rest of the planets combined, but Jupiter is also another gas giant that may or may not have a solid core.

Jupiter’s wife is Juno, the name of the most recent spaceship we sent to visit Jupiter, while many of his 69 moons are named after his numerous lovers, including Europa, another place scientists think may hold promise for life. Jupiter’s giant red spot is a centuries-old storm larger than Earth.

Jupiter the planet, like Jupiter the God, can throw some impressive lightning. Jupiter’s emblem, and that of the widely conquering Roman army, was the eagle. A very promiscuous cheater, Jupiter (and his Greek equivalent Zeus) often appeared to his lovers disguised in non-human form—a swan, a bull, an eagle, even a golden rain.

Write for 11 or 69 minutes or 11 x 11 x 11 words, or your designated unit of words or time.

Does your story have conquest, sexual or political? Do any of your characters disguise themselves in some way to get what they want? Is your MC cheating or being cheated on romantically, or being betrayed in another way?

If you have a sci-fi or fantasy setting, is there something drastic and unusual such as a storm that continues for centuries?

Next you approach MARS, the red planet named for the Roman god of war, and a favorite home of aliens in so many classic sci-fi stories. There is indeed evidence of water in Mars’ past, which may indicate it could have supported life at one time. Most excitingly, in just the past month or so, visiting rovers on Mars have discovered possible signs of ancient life, that is, “complex organic macromolecules.”

A small planet, Mars has a thin atmosphere and a rocky surface showing evidence of impacts, volcanoes, and other change. Mars is about 142 million miles from the sun, and a year on Mars lasts 687 Earth days.

Mars the war god was not only a symbol of violence and anger but also of agriculture, virility, and military prowess and was revered by the Roman army. He had a love affair with Venus, the Roman goddess of love, which has struck the imaginations of many writers and artists with its obvious symbolism.

The wolf and the bear, fearsome predators, were among his sacred animals, but so was the woodpecker, and there was even a woodpecker oracle supposed to speak his prophesies. His sons Romulus and Remus, the founders of Rome, were suckled by a she-wolf.

Write 687 words or 142 words or minutes or for your designated unit of words or time.

Conflict is a key ingredient to moving any story forward, and there can be many kinds of “battle.” What is the chief conflict of your story, how can you make it more dramatic and more compelling, and is there any opportunity for a union of opposites, such as the bringing together of Mars and Venus? What is the result?

Do any of your characters embody attributes of Mars, negative, positive, or both? Are there any symbolic animals in your story, any animals who help humans in unusual ways?

If you have a sci-fi story, would the possible discovery of life on Mars affect your world-building in some way?

Now you are approaching a beautiful blue orb, EARTH, a planet with evident signs of life. Most of this planet is covered in water, and there is only one lonely moon. Earth is about 93 million miles from the sun, an Earth day is 24 hours, and an Earth year 365 days. With its atmosphere perfect for breathing and good at breaking up most meteors, its composition of elements, and its perfect distance from the sun, the planet miraculously nurtures life.

In mythology, Gaia is the Greek goddess of Earth and mother of all life, while the Roman equivalent is Terra. Many ancient religions have such a goddess, and her archetype survives as Mother Nature and in the image of Earth as our nurturing mother.

Write for 93 minutes or 365 + 24 words or your designated unit of words or time.

What is your own creation story, both your personal belief and the creation story within your novel? Do you see life as a miracle, whether of creation, evolution, or both, or a mere accident? What do you believe is Earth’s place in the cosmos, and humans’ place and role on our planet and in the universe beyond?

Are your characters involved in activities related to saving or sabotaging Earth? How are your characters nurtured by their connection to nature? If your story is post-apocalyptic, what are their memories of Earth? If you are world-building for a sci-fi or fantasy story, what do you draw on to create a world as unique as our Earth?

Moving past Earth towards the sun, you reach VENUS, another oddball planet that is spinning in the opposite direction from the others. On Venus the sun, which is 67 million miles away, rises in the west. If we imagine the symbolic union of Mars and Venus, it is the bringing together of two worlds moving in opposite directions. Theories include that Venus was spinning the same direction but flipped upside down due to gravitational and geologic factors or that it slowed, stopped spinning, and reversed.

On Venus, a day (about 243 Earth days), actually lasts longer than a year (about 224 Earth days). Venus has no moons. It may have had a liquid ocean for a couple billion years. Now, with its thick atmosphere and greenhouse effect, Venus is the hottest planet, at about 900 degrees, as befits a love goddess.

Venus is the Roman goddess not only of erotic love, beauty, and desire, but also of victory and prosperity. She was said to be born of sea foam from the unfortunate incident between Saturn and Uranus. Winged Cupid who adorns our valentines is often portrayed as the son of Venus and Mars, the god of War.

Venus was married to Vulcan (who did not have pointy ears as far as I know) but had mortal lovers as well as Mars. She often comes across as rather jealous, objecting to her son’s love for Psyche and quarreling with Proserpina over Adonis, a mortal lover.

In Greek mythology, her counterpart Aphrodite helps bring about the Trojan war: In the “judgment of Paris” the Goddesses Aphrodite, Athena, and Hera dispute over who is the fairest, and Aphrodite promises the beautiful (and already married) Helen of Troy as a prize to Paris, the mortal chosen to judge the contest, if he picks Aphrodite. Her abduction inciting the war, Helen becomes known as “the face that launched a thousand ships.”

Write for 900 words or 224 + 243 words or 67 minutes or your designated unit of time or words.

Beauty and erotic love are marvelous but can also have a dark side. Who is your most beautiful or otherwise seductive character? What attributes draw people to them? Do they use their power to charm? Could a character conflict between this person and others lead to any event as large scale and drawn out as the Trojan War? What would that event be in your story, and is the beautiful or seductive character affected or just a catalyst?

If your story is fantasy or sci-fi, what do you think about a day lasting longer than a year? How would it be to live in a world like that? Are there any other ways your world could be upside down from what we are used to?

Leaving Venus behind, you travel to the last of the planets before the sun, little MERCURY, barely larger than our moon. As befits a messenger to the Gods, Mercury zips around the sun in only 88 Earth days, but its own day lasts 59 Earth days. It has extreme temperature shifts between day and night, from 800 degrees to -290 degrees F.

NASA also explains: “Because of Mercury’s elliptical—egg-shaped—orbit and sluggish rotation, the morning Sun appears to rise briefly, set and rise again from some parts of the planet’s surface. The same thing happens in reverse at sunset.”

The god Mercury is a patron of those involved in commerce and financial gain, from merchants to thieves, and of travel, eloquence, and poetry, and is a messenger to the Gods (a role Mercury borrowed from his Greek counterpart, Hermes, along with the winged sandals and the caduceus). He is also know to guide souls to the underworld.

Write for 800 or 290 words, or for 88 or 59 minutes, or for your designated unit of time or words.

What do you think about the multiple roles Mercury plays? Messengers and guides can significantly impact plot. In Romeo and Juliet, the failure of a messenger causes the tragedy of their death. Guides appear in many stories and influence the journey of the main character. Does it say anything about the nature of commerce that Mercury is the god of both merchants and thieves? In your story, which characters are gaining at the expense of others losing, or is it unclear?

If you are world-building for sci-fi or fantasy, do you like any of the planet Mercury’s attributes for your world?

Finally, you have reached your destination, the glorious SUN. Our sun is a yellow dwarf star whose gravity is the glue of our solar system, and whose presence governs every aspect of our existence. NASA explains: “The connection and interactions between the Sun and Earth drive the seasons, ocean currents, weather, climate, radiation belts and aurorae.”

Excitingly, we are about to launch our own Icarus, hopefully this summer, when the Parker Solar Probe will travel through the sun’s atmosphere and approach its surface.

Now, your little craft, magically indestructible, makes that journey, bringing you right to the vital source of energy you need to live and to create. A massive ball of burning gases, it makes up 99.8% of the mass of the whole solar system. It is only an “average” sized star compared to other stars, but to us it is everything.

In Greek mythology, the sun is Helios, in Roman, it is called Sol, and in both the Greek and Roman mythos, the god Apollo also has the sun as part of his domain. The winter solstice, the shortest day of the year, is associated with worship of Sol.

The Greek Helios, whose sisters were Selene, the Moon, and Eos, the Dawn, drove the sun’s chariot across the sky every day. Not only Icarus, but Helios’ own son, Phaethon, came to grief from the sun. Phaethon wished to drive his father’s chariot but could not handle the horses. They plunged out of their path, dragging the sun along, and endangered the earth, forcing Zeus (Jupiter in the Roman mythos) to strike Phaethon down with a thunderbolt.

Write for 99.8 minutes or 998 words or your designated unit of time or words. Draw power and inspiration from the life-sustaining energy of the sun and write freely at will, in any way you please.

Information and inspiration from the Pacific Science Center in Seattle, NASA, Wikipedia, and other online sources, https://solarsystem.nasa.gov, as well as the “Solar System” track of this meditation CD: https://store.cdbaby.com/cd/jasonmiles

[dorizardthewizard]

The Revival of Akillian: Chapter 13

Prologue / Chapter 12 / Chapter 14

13. MELTING ICE

“We have given our daughter Tia permission to play on your team,” the man says stiffly. The woman hugs him, all smiles, and adds, “We’re very proud of her, Mr. Aarch!”

Tia watches the scene again on the giant screen, framed by two slim poplar trees, which sit in the middle of the huge living room of her parents’ residence on Obia. Head down, hands behind her back, she feels small. She does not even marvel at the magnificent spectacle offered by the large bay windows: Akillian rolling like a cosmic gemstone in a black case studded with the stars of space. A show that awakened in her many dreams (how can we live in this world of ice?) then many desires, when she learned that the great Aarch was there to form a new Galactik Football team... but there you go, the dream was shattered in the gloved hands of those polite but obtuse police officers, who by force brought her back to her parents’ home.

They are seated opposite Tia, stiff and prim on their leather sofa of Gnok hide (this large mammal has become extremely rare, but still haunts the icy slopes of the Akillian mountains). Beside them stands Stella, the housekeeper, silent and compassionate, also in trouble, for it was she who helped Tia escape. Tia does not know how her parents got a copy of this recording - her little trick, concocted with the help of Stella, which served her well in convincing Aarch...

- Actors, Tia, actors! - cries her exasperated mother. - Do you realize that you made these people pretend to be your real parents?

- You would never have given me permission. - Tia reproaches sulkily.

- Of course not, that’s obvious! - confirms her father. - Football is not an activity worthy of your social standing. - he adds in this virtuous tone, no doubt greatly appreciated at embassy receptions, but which has the gift of infuriating his daughter to the highest degree.

- You are an ambassador’s daughter, Tia, you must never forget that! - her mother adds.

- How could I forget! You’ve told me every day since I was born!

Tia’s father grasps his beardless chin between thumb and forefinger, a tic that occurs when he experiences annoyance.

- Alright, I’m sure you understand our position. In this case, the case is closed. Let’s not talk about it anymore, Tia, you understand?

The young girl lets out her anger:

- Isn’t it your job to talk? You make speeches to all the peoples of the Galaxy, but, for me, you never have time! I’ve had longer conversations with “these people” as you say, than I’ve ever had with you!

- Tia, you are not here to argue, but to obey! - snaps her father. - Is that understood, my daughter?

- And please, don’t compare us to those actors. - adds her mother.

- Yes, you’re right, mother... that would be giving you too much credit!

- Tia! - roars the diplomat, rising to his feet.

- At least they’re passionate about something!

- Tia, now that’s enough! - rebukes her mother. With tears in her eyes, the young girl leaves the living room, under the saddened gaze of her housekeeper.

- What are you still doing here? - thunders the ambassador. - Don’t you have anything better to do?

- Yes sir, forgive me. – mutters Stella, slipping away.

She joins Tia in her room, which is as large as a tennis court. She is collapsed on the satin sheets of her four-poster bed, sobbing hot tears. Stella sits down next to her, stroking her silver hair.

- Calm down, Tia. It’s alright…

- But you don’t understand, Stella! I was happy there, I could finally do what I love... (Tia sits up briskly) I absolutely have to go back!

Stella rests her index finger on her lips, puffing her round cheeks.

- What’s the matter? - Tia asks in a low voice.

The housekeeper looks over her little triangular glasses to the jade statuette of an angel sitting on a pedestal. Intrigued, Tia approaches it and studies the figurine... then quickly spots the anomaly: a micro-camera has been embedded in one of the eyes.

Tia is shocked: her parents have her watched like a prisoner! She sticks her tongue out at the camera, giving it a hideous grimace.

- Charming, this rich kid! - notes one of the two agents assigned to the central monitoring station, seeing Tia’s grimace on his monitors.

His colleague turns his back on him, inspecting other parts of the vast mansion of the ambassadors... although, for now, the only screen that catches his attention is that of a small monitor not at all connected to the surveillance network, but to TTV, which broadcasts Arcadia News. The guard shrugs his shoulders.

- Well, she can do whatever she wants, as long as she doesn’t stop me from watching my show...

***

Famous Arcadia News anchor Nork Ag’net has invited two eminent Galactik Football experts to his table, who are intellectually debating the chances of either side being selected for the next Cup.

- For me, the Lightnings are the favorites for the next Galactik Football Cup, - one says. – There’s no doubt about it, just look at Warren, he’s never been in better shape!

- Yes, but you shouldn’t disregard the Shadows so quickly, - the other retorts. - Their last friendlies have been remarkable!

- What about Akillian? - Nork says with a smirk.

- Akillian?! - the specialist laughs out loud - Blessed Nork, always a laugh!

- They don’t even have a flux! - his colleague sneers.

- Why shouldn’t they? They’ve had one in the past. - says Nork in his smooth voice.

- We still need to know which team we are talking about, - remarks the second specialist, a small, fat man with large square glasses. - Artegor Nexus’s Red Tigers, or, what are their names again? Aarch’s team?

- The Snow Kids. - answers Nork.

- Yes, that’s it. The game to decide between them has yet to take place, as far as I know. Better to wait...

- Besides, it’s not guaranteed that it will even take place as planned, - adds his colleague, an angular guy with a bald head. - Last I heard, Akillian Stadium is still frozen in ice!

Nork Ag’net takes that as an opportunity to move onto the next part of their broadcast, pivoting to the giant holo-screen next to him:

- Exactly, now let’s turn to the lovely Callie Mystic, live from Akillian, and get her first impressions. So, Callie, everyone’s talking about that famous game on Akillian, right?

Callie appears on the giant screen, microphone in hand, caught on camera by her trusty flying holo-cam. Behind her is the decor of an all-glass club, almost empty: only a few seats are occupied, and three or four people watch with jaded eyes the screens showing the teams, matches and bets. One of Ballow’s henchmen prowls from table to table, hustling up who knows what, and often receiving annoyed refusals.

- Well no, not really, Nork. - Callie replies. - You know, here, since the great ice age, football has largely lost its popularity. I’m currently in the GF’s fan temple, Planet Akillian, and to say the least, it’s not crowded...

- It seems that there are doubts about the choice of the stadium. What’s the situation, Callie? - asks Nork.

- It is true that the ice still covers the Arena Stadium, however, Aarch has promised the League that he will be able to host tomorrow’s game. But anyway, if the pundits are to be believed, the result has already been decided and Aarch has serious problems, since his team is given a 90% chance of losing, right, sir?

Callie turns to Ballow’s man, sticking her microphone under his nose.

- Uh, absolutely. - he answers hesitantly. - We know for a fact that the Snow Kids don’t stand a chance. (He shrugs his shoulders fatalistically) In fact, the fans are so sure of this that they don’t even want to bet...

***

In the underground depths of the Arena Stadium, Clamp, kneeling on the metal floor and surrounded by various tools, bangs with a hammer on a sort of case - a very tricky way to carry out repairs, thinks Aarch, watching him. Both are surrounded by an imposing machinery, made up of pipes, cables, ducts, tanks and other devices that sink into the darkness, which is barely pushed aside by a glowing work lamp.

No doubt having hammered enough, Clamp grabs the case with both hands and inserts it into its slot, at the bottom of a metal column in which a grille emits a flickering bluish glow. After that, the scientist goes to a control panel, pressing a few keys. Nothing seems to happen - at least, nothing that he had hoped for.

- So, Clamp?

The latter turns to his friend, his features tinged with weariness and discouragement.

- Mmh... the heating circuit looks like it’s completely out of order. I’m sorry, Aarch...

- We have to do this at all costs! I’m counting on you!

Clamp watches Aarch leave the technical room, rubbing his goatee, looking distraught. He wipes his sweaty forehead with his hand soaked in machine oil, and selflessly goes back to work.

Aarch enters the holo-trainer room where, in the big white cube, the Snow Kids are training against a team of blue sims. Ahito has just stopped a shot on goal and, with a masterful shot, passes to his sim-marked brother. Thran kicks the ball back to Micro-Ice, who has fun dribbling past a sim with one of those pirouettes he’s so fond of - much to the chagrin of Rocket, who is raising an arm wryly.

- Micro-Ice, stop hogging the ball! - calls Aarch, who is following the action on the console monitor.

- Just had to ask! - retorts Tia’s replacement.

Assaulted by two blue players, he sends the ball to D’jok who, immediately marked, passes it to Sinedd. Sim defenders fall back on the latter, freeing D’jok who, logically, should get the ball back. But Sinedd struggles to dribble past both sims - one of whom rips in front of him to tackle him. Sinedd tumbles over and inevitably loses the ball...

Outside the holo-trainer, Aarch pauses the game: the ball vanishes in a shower of pixels.

It’s D’jok’s turn to raise his arms to the sky. He confronts Sinedd:

- Would it hurt to pass the ball?

- I only pass to guys who can score. - retorts Sinedd contemptuously, glaring D’jok down.

- Oh, so you think you scored back there?! - Micro-Ice intervenes angrily.

- I’m not talking to you, Micro-Chip!

All three start to argue, under Mei’s exasperated gaze:

- Oh! This is impossible, they’re at it again!...

- Debriefing room in two minutes! – Aarch’s voice booms over the holo-trainer’s artificial sky.

The sims fade one after the other, then the sky and the terrain in turn disappear; the holo-trainer becomes an ordinary cube with black walls, brightly lit. Suddenly, the argument between the players ends. They step out of the machine with a remorseful step.

Two minutes later, all are gathered in the debriefing room, which is equipped with a giant screen displaying the characteristics and performances of each player, as well as different game configurations on a virtual field. Aarch stands with his back to the screen, which gives him a pale halo. Everyone is facing him, seated on benches or leaning against tables.

- I would like to remind you, that if we lose this match against the Red Tigers, we can say goodbye to the Cup! I will not hide from you that a lot of people are waiting for me to lose. Anyone who holds a negative view of my return would be happy to see me go, but I don’t want to give them that pleasure. I absolutely want to prove to them that I’m right… that you are capable of becoming great players. Unfortunately, I can’t afford to make mistakes. I know you have the skills to win this game. Only, for that, you will have to play together - not against each other!

At these words, D’jok, Sinedd and Micro-Ice exchange an accusing look. Ahito - who for once is not sleeping - creates a happy diversion:

- But, sir, without Tia, we’ll never win...

- That’s true! - his brother adds. – She’s got the Breath. We don’t!

- And we will probably never have it, - grumbles Sinedd with his head bowed.

- You won’t get anywhere with such an attitude, - replies Aarch. - It does take very hard work to acquire the Breath, but it is deep within each of you. Waking it up will require a great effort from you, a collective effort. You will have to work together...

The sliding door to the room interrupts him, giving way to Clamp: cheerful, filthy, and more disheveled than ever.

- Eureka! I finally figured out how to clear the snow from the stadium!

- I think Clamp’s just spared you another workout. – remarks Aarch with a smirk. – Let’s go check it out, Clamp.

***

The scientist took everyone to the frozen roof of the Arena Stadium, in front of the gondola tower, the front door of which, a few days ago, Sonny Blackbones’s Pirates had forced open... (which earned Clamp the immense surprise to find his Scraps partly dismantled, a strange occurrence that he attributed to a bug, then concocted another program so that the robots still in condition repaired their dismantled comrades... so that they could quickly get back to the restoration of the stadium. Aarch rather saw it as an attempt at sabotage on the part of Ballow and his gang: he thought of warning the police, but the many tasks which kept him busy distracted him from doing so). Clamp - still in a shirt despite the intense cold, as if his science could keep him warm - holds in both hands a sort of remote control the size and shape of a rugby ball.

- Get back a bit, don’t stand too close to the edge… there you go. In a few hours, the pitch will have found a second youth, you will not believe your eyes! I realized that you just had to use the mesh of the RT-156 hoses, but changing the radiation frequency…

- Uh, I didn’t catch all of that…, - says Ahito, stifling a yawn.

- Forget it, bro, it’s okay, go back to sleep!

From where they are, Aarch and the Snow Kids have a bird’s eye view of the pitch caught in the snow and ice, a few tens of meters below. They are on the roof that covers the bleachers, which are just frozen waterfalls of stalactites. Huge tongues of ice also hang from the technical walkway that overlooks the pitch from one side to the other. Behind them, the tower evokes the massive top of an iceberg, and the walkways giving access to the entrances, far below, are literal skating rinks. All around, Arcadia’s buildings look like slices of pack ice plunging into snow-capped depths.

With a theatrical gesture, Clamp types a code on his remote.

Lively lightning flashes through the superstructures and runs over the walkways, along the frozen cables, on the edge of the roof, the edges of the tower... in a show of crackles and sparks suggesting that the entire stadium has become a gigantic, overloaded transformer! Wherever the lightning flashes, the stalactites shatter, the ice cracks, the snow transforms into vapor. Soon torrents of ice-laden water trickle down the bleachers, as a thick mist rises from the ground. Here and there - especially at the peaks of the tower and the technical footbridge - the metallic architecture is already beginning to appear

Drenched in the mist, the Snow Kids utter cries of joy. Micro-Ice tries to approach the edge of the roof to see what’s going on down on the pitch, but Aarch holds him back with a steady hand.

- Get back, Micro-Ice, it’s dangerous! Now is not the time to lose one of my best players!

- Aarch is right, - nods Clamp. - Besides, we shouldn’t stay here. This roof will soon become a real skating rink!

The ice cracks under their feet and a thin film of water begins to cover it, as if it were starting to sweat. Clamp pushes everyone towards the tower door and the elevators.

- Let’s go back to the basements, they shouldn’t get flooded ...

- Are you sure, Clamp? - Aarch asks worriedly.

- 99%. By my calculations, the melting process will be gradual enough not to clog the drain holes. In about ten hours, all the snow and ice should be melted; if the technical installations of the stadium have not been too damaged, my Scrap Metal will be able to reconnect them quickly...

- I hope your calculations are correct, Clamp. Because tomorrow afternoon we have to face the Red Tigers… and I told the League that we will play in the Arena Stadium!

[the-darklings]

—𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒆;

—PART XIV. | WHAT IS AND WHAT SHOULD NEVER BE

pairing: john wick x f!reader x santino d’antonio

word count: 10.4k+

summary: A part of you has missed this quiet, this dark.

warnings: aside from pain? none.

notes: well this will either be the saddest or the happiest chapter of COA so far. Let's roll!

children of ares series: 01 | …. | 12 | 13 | . . | 15 |

“My mother who was a great lover of art always told me that life is like poetry. It rhymes.”

Inhale.

“I believe that everything eventually comes around full circle.” 

Exhale. 

The silver viper ring between your fingers rotates for the hundredth time. 

For the first time in days your hands are not shaking. 

A stillness has fallen over you; a hush that has wiped away all else. A part of you has missed this quiet, this dark. It has given you back a sense of ease. You can’t even feel the pain in your body anymore. There is just…nothing. 

Crisp footsteps approach the spot where you are sitting and you don’t need to look up to know who it is. 

Winston sits down beside you with deliberate slowness but there is a heaviness to it. Distantly, you wonder if anything like this has ever happened before. The man next to you is unmerciful in enforcing the rules in his hotel and city at large. Such a violation must be a first.

You sit in silence for several minutes, neither of you moving. Your elbows keep digging into your thighs but all you can focus on is the ring between your fingers. On the faint traces of blood still lingering beneath your nails and cracks of your skin. 

The stillness between you is the loudest thing you have ever experienced. Matched in magnitude only by the initial few seconds following the gunshot—

“What happens now?”

Your question is so steady, so calm—it surprises you. You might as well be asking him about the weather. 

The older man doesn’t answer right away even though you feel his attention turn to you. 

“The High Table has been informed,” he tells you flatly, his hands clasped in front of him. “This will…echo.” 

There’s just enough trepidation in the final word for you to know that a more accurate expression would be a “shitstorm”. You wait for something—anything—to hit you but nothing comes. Panic, fear, dread that have always followed any possibility of invoking the Table’s wrath is absent. Winston’s words barely register. Maybe you can go into hysterics later. Maybe not. 

“Is there anything I can do—”

“You could come to Paris with me. You still owe me a trip, carissima.”

The ring in your hand rotates again. 

Winston focuses on the movement but doesn’t comment. You’re not quite sure if he knows the significants of the ring in your hand, if he’s ever even guessed it. He has certainly seen it before. He knows you’ve had it for years. 

The silence stretches for what seems like hours. 

“Are you—”

“No.”

It’s an empty answer to an empty question. You’re very not alright right now. 

Your fingers still, folding around the ring till the viper disappears, devoured by your hand. By the prison of darkness. 

Your head finally turns to look at the older man and his expression draws tighter at whatever he finds on your face. 

“Will you—”

“Yes,” he cuts you off before you can finish, nodding his head just once with a pointed stare. “Even if it wasn’t a part of my job—and it certainly is—yes, of course. You need not ask.”

It’s one of those few, serene moments where you feel immensely grateful for having him in your life. To a point you doubt there are any words that could aptly express it. Neither of you is prone to displays of sentimentality though so you choose to say nothing. Still, you think he can read it on your face. See it in the way you blink just a little too fast and swallow thickly with a grateful dip of your head. 

Your fingers stiffen into a fist, and you feel the metal ridges of the ring cut into your flesh. It’s a dull, vague discomfort and you turn to stare at the too-clean floor for another beat before you rise smoothly, your joints clicking. 

Nothing hurts and the fingers of your other hand flex. Experimental. Deliberate. 

Your turn to go. 

“Where are you going?”

You pause, but don’t look at him. “I have unfinished business.”

More hollow, calm words that drag from somewhere deep down. From the abyss. 

But because Winston is Winston, he doesn’t drop it like most would. “I know what Johnathan did was—”

Inhaling sharply at that name, you begin walking away. 

“V,” Winston calls out, and you hear him rise. “(Name).”

It halts your feet, that tone. The authority in it. 

But you don’t stop because you fear Winston. You stop because you respect him enough to do so. Care for him enough to at least hear what he has to say if he’s so insistent on saying it. 

“If you do this,” he begins, and there is such worn heaviness in his voice that it almost makes you falter. Almost. “You will regret it for the rest of your life.”

Don’t go down this path again. 

He doesn’t have to add it verbally for you to hear the words in the space between you. Be it because he doesn’t want a bigger mess than this has already become or because he wants to shield Jo—

Or maybe he just cares about you in his own way. 

He knows what revenge does to a person. He knows how slippery of a slope hate can be. He has seen what resentment has turned you into once. 

That, you think coldly, was child’s play compared to now.  

You look back at him over your shoulder. His face is still drawn, his eyes narrowed, but you know that if you choose this, he will not stand in your way. 

A man who believes that everyone is a master of their own fate. That one has to learn how to live with the consequences of one’s actions. 

You are the father I wish I had. You taught me well.

It’s what you want to say but don’t. 

Instead, something far less kind leaves your mouth, “The only thing I regret right now is not letting him bleed out on that platform.”    

With that, you turn to go, and he doesn’t try to stop you again.

Kimber Super Carry. 

A custom semi-automatic model with a good sturdy handle and sleek edges, making aiming easy and reloading smooth due to lightweight casing. The seven-round magazine is the smallest capacity it’s manufactured to as far as you know but it’s undoubtedly a weapon crafted for death all the same.

A gun that was fired on Continental grounds. 

A gun that—

Your feet halt in the debris of a dream. 

John’s home is now rubble. 

You haven’t seen it since the news about its destruction reached you and you drag your eyes over the ruined space. Once upon a time, you think it would have made you sad to see this. Now, you don’t feel much besides an inkling of satisfaction. 

Consequences.

The echoes of them are everywhere you look as you move through the ash and the dirt. Your footsteps crunch underneath you, and the charred remains still stink of smoke even with the heavy deluge of rain falling down on it.

Your grip on the pistol doesn’t loosen as you step slowly through John’s home. 

As if there’s anywhere else he would go to mourn, to wait for what he already knows he will not escape. 

Like a ghost, you move across the graveyard of John’s dream. Your eyes linger on the half-burned photograph of him and Helen that still sits on the crumbling mantelpiece. Half of John’s face is burned away, leaving an echo of a smile and love and you stare at it for longer than intended, your jaw set. 

You find him minutes later, sitting alone and hunched over on a blackened armchair. 

He doesn’t move. 

Even though you know he’s aware of your presence. 

Rain trails down your face and you blink the tiny droplets out of your lashes as you step into the room unhurriedly.

The dog suddenly appears, dashing towards you from behind the seat and wags his tail happily at the sight of you. He nudges your hand with his nose and your fingers absentmindedly play with his ear, patting him a few times. 

Your eyes don’t leave John’s prone figure once. 

A dark spectre haunting the ruins of his own life. 

Lips parted, he lifts his head towards you eventually, a thin bracelet tangled in between his bloodied fingers—the same hand you injured with your blade only hours ago. His face is bruised just like yours, and through the space between you, the roar of rain washes away the would-be silence.

He doesn’t say anything. 

Your lips curve. 

“No apology this time?” 

John with his sorrowful, dark eyes who is always quick to plead for forgiveness. As if you have the power to absolve him of his many sins. You are not his absolution. He has shown that time and time again. 

There is, perhaps, no one left on your side now.

John’s shoulders slant backwards with a deep breath, his voice a rasp, “Not when I did something I know there will be no forgiveness for.”

You stare at him. 

He’s not wrong. 

He doesn’t look at the gun but you’re both intimately aware of it. His hand had forged your own after all. Right now all you can think about is those long months of work you had to put in just to barely keep up with him—too slow, too erratic, too rigid. His grip on your wrist and the low, measured words of instruction, of guidance. 

Viggo Tarasov never made you. He gave you the tool to make yourself.  

John Wick never made you. He guided the creation with his careful, deadly hands and an unspoken promise that he will be by your side, always. 

Santino D’Antonio never made you, either. 

You did it all yourself. 

“I spent the journey here thinking how I’m going to put a bullet in your head,” you inform him calmly, amiably. “How far we have come, Jardani.”

His sad, worn expression goes rigid at your gentle murmur of his real name. A name you have held sacred in your heart and hidden so meticulously underneath your tongue for years. 

This is not anger, or rage, or hurt. 

This is just…nothing. The final stage perhaps. 

“He had me hunted,” John mutters in defeat, his voice thick with pain as he stares up at you. “I gave you time, (Name). What was I supposed to do?”

“Stop, Jardani,” you whisper sadly. “You could have stopped for me. Like he did.”

John’s expression creases and you watch as rain trickles down his nose and lips. His confusion is palpable. You take a single step towards him and the dog whines, sensing the shift in the air. 

“I was taken after we split apart,” you reveal to him and make sure that every word sinks in, your words slow and deliberate. “That trouble you wanted to help me with initially, remember? The Black Dragon and the Lovers. You won’t know much about the latter because it was after you left. But you know how it goes. Bad blood from years ago come back to haunt me. I was taken but managed to break out with some help. I rushed to the gallery. I got there only minutes before you did. And then I asked him to stop. Call the contract off. Do you know what he said to me?” you wonder bitterly and don’t wait for his reply. “That he’ll do it. You were minutes away from freedom, Jardani, and now look at you.”

Doomed. 

One way or another. 

Now, there will be no ticket back. No peace. 

You watch the realisation sink in. The quiet agony that follows right after.

“I—”

“I don’t care that you didn’t know,” you choke out, pained, watching the planes of his face crease at your wet words. “I just wanted you to listen. How much more? How much more can you take from me?”

You wait for his answer but this time he has nothing to say. Nothing, at least, that won’t be empty words designed to make you forgiving and docile. 

“I walked through your home and figured it would be symbolic to finish it here,” you continue through the thundering of rain and the dog whines again, quieter this time. “But then I realised something. You want this. You want it to be by my hand. The moment you pulled that trigger you knew exactly what would follow. All that carnage. An attack on Continental grounds. A forfeited life debt that makes your life mine. You knew that I would never forgive you for almost taking the people I consider my family away.”

Drawing a breath, you lift the gun in your hand but don’t aim it at him. The gleaming, silver surface greets you and in it, you see a blurred reflection of your eyes. The shadow of emptiness there. The hollowed out person staring back at you reminds you of a girl from years ago. 

“You did love me,” you go on after another moment, still staring at the gun. Your body is soaked from the rain by now but you ignore the heavy weight of your clothes clinging to your skin. “I think a part of you still does. But the sad truth is that you never loved me more than this. This dream of a normal life. You leaving was never about a choice between Helen and I. It was always a choice between being John or being Baba Yaga. You didn’t stop for me because you couldn’t. Because you don’t know how to stop. Not even for yourself. I bet you used to wake up every morning, look in the mirror, and feel just as empty as I do. Maybe you thought that by running from this life—from yourself—you could be happy. And I think you were for a while. But Tarasov was right to say that we’re cursed, the three of us. We don’t get happy endings.”

You lower the gun and take another few steps closer towards him, watching his expression as you feet creak on the damaged floor. He looks accepting of whatever you will say or do next.

“You said…almost.”

A brief, harsh smile contorts your face. “Yeah,” you acknowledge quietly, viciously, your grip on the gun creaking. “You failed. I made you fail. Santino lived. I don’t know…I don’t know for how long…or if he will ever—”

You can’t continue because it hurts too much. 

Because you remember a haze of blood and Winston pulling you back. You sobbing that Santino is still warm, that he’s still breathing. 

A bullet that had hit the side of his head, creating what had appeared like a river of gushing blood. 

Missed shattering his skull by 2 millimetres. You saved him, (Name).

Winston’s hand on your shoulder, gripping, gripping, trying to tug you back and over the edge with his words.  

“Critical care,” you spit out and press your lips together to stop yourself from cracking now. “They don’t—he might still not make it and even if he does…there is a high chance of permanent damage. It’s too early to say yet.”

John exhales, staring up at you in wonder. Maybe even relief. You don’t care enough to search deeper than that. 

You simply don’t care. About any of this.

Taking another step towards him, you reach into your pocket, pulling out the ring that’s been with you for years. Your only reminder of him. 

The man in question goes as still as death at the sight of it. 

You can still remember his muted disappointment at the fact that you no longer wore it. He no doubt thought that you had gotten rid of it.

“I wonder what it says about me that I still have it,” you mutter with a bitter chuckle and droplets of rain cover the metal in moments. “I kept it with me for years. And when Santino asked me if the fact that I still have it means that I love you, I told him no. But that was a fucking lie. I convinced myself that I wanted to mend our relationship because of what happened to Marcus. So I would never have regrets but that was only half the truth. I just…missed you. A tiny part of me never stopped loving you. Despite everything,” you exhale weakly, pausing, and your expression hardens with your next words. “Until you pulled that trigger I would have still forgiven you. I still loved you. Even after all these years. Now…Now I don’t know what you are to me. Not anymore.”

John’s breathing has picked up, his chest moving up and down as he stares up at you. For once, his calm has fled and his dark eyes are desperate, wilder. 

“(Name)—” 

“You will never stop,” you state frankly, knowingly, your tone wooden. “You will destroy yourself, Jardani. This vengeance will consume you till the man Helen and I both loved is long gone. I don’t hate you. I pity you for that. I pity you.”

The ring in your hand stills. It hovers against your skin. This familiar warmth of metal you’ve clung to for years. 

The rain falls harder, beating against your skin, a distant rumbling of thunder echoing in your bones.

The girl who had needed this blanket of safety and comfort is gone now. 

You don’t need anchors to the past.

You just need Santino to live. You need Roberto to recover.  

You just need yourself. 

No one else. 

Your hand tips to the side and gravity does the rest. 

The ring sails through the rush of falling rain and drops at John’s feet and into the ruin surrounding you both soundlessly. 

Like a stroke of the sharpest blade, it cleaves the past from the present. 

“I will not kill you,” you tell him simply, but you’re not sure if John is listening. He’s staring at the ground, at the ring, and you can no longer see his face. “You will live and reap the consequences of your decisions. Maybe one day I can find a way to forgive you for this. I…I don’t know. But know that if you ever touch the people I love and care about again…” you give him a grim, empty smile. “You’re as good as dead to me.”

Silence. 

You’re not quite sure how much time passes.

Eventually, the downpour eases up, a few minutes of tranquillity following that. 

There’s a dull crack of someone stepping onto burned wood and your head slants to the side. 

Charon stands still and silent in the ruined doorway of the living room. His face is solemn and like a messenger of death, he chills the space at least a few degrees. 

Behind his glasses, his eyes glow with quiet, unspoken regret as he looks at John. 

The High Table has been informed. This will…echo.

This, you know then, is about to go South in the worst way possible.

His stare is full of relief when it meets yours though, and you know that he was prepared to find a very different sight. 

John dead. Or maybe you dead, or even both of you. Destroyed by the others’ hand. 

Won’t that be ironic?     

“Mr Wick,” Charon begins and John’s head rises slightly at the call, just barely. “You have been summoned, Sir.” 

There is a breath of quiet and then Charon’s eyes transfer to you. Something about the look on his face makes you release a slow breath. 

“As have you, Miss.”    

The dog naps draped across you both, seemingly the only one enjoying the heavy hush hanging over the car. 

John doesn’t speak. You don’t either. 

Charon knows better than to even begin and untangle this mess of a situation. So he does what he’s always done, and that’s obey his orders without comment. 

You stare out of the window, taking in the scenery of your city and wonder if you are still living in a world that has Santino in it. You have no way to contact anyone and his condition—

“You’re right,” John’s voice slices through your thoughts and you almost flinch, your fingers stilling against the dog’s ribs. “Everything you said back there. You were right. I love Helen but a part of me…a part of me never let you go either, (Name).”

You don’t reply. 

He’s not expecting it either because he no doubt realises that his confession is ill-timed. 

You imagine it’s less about forgiveness and more about…

You’re not sure what it’s about. Not anymore. 

What’s done is done. 

It will not change anything now.

Your fingers play with the chain around your neck as you continue staring out of the window. 

The quiet stretches on and by the time the car crawls to a stop just outside of Bethesda Fountain, you know that Winston is waiting for you. The fountain is the man’s favourite spot at Central Park and both of you have taken walks here several times over the years. As have—

As have you and Santino. 

Cockiness in his step and a sly smirk on his face. 

You rip the door open, gasping for breath, and try to blink away the phantom of him beside you, offering the crook of his arm to you. 

Walk with me, cara mia?

He’s not dead. 

Yet, adds Kishi’s cold voice inside your head.

No, let him live. Let him live even if I— 

“It has been a pleasure, Mr Wick,” Charon says politely, offering his hand to John as you round the car. The two men shake hands and you can see John’s hesitation, his attempt to read the situation. Charon stares at him for a beat before adding a quieter, “Goodbye.”

John’s head lowers in understanding and he moves in the direction Charon extends his arm towards, leaving you behind. 

For a few moments, you stare at the man who has been a part of your life for years. Who has seen you at some of your best and worst. 

“Miss Vipress.”

Charon’s voice sounds defeated, a touch sad, and behind his glasses, you see a glimmer of remorse. 

“Take care of the old man for me, would you?” you request softly, taking a step closer when you notice John pause, realising you’re not following him. “The safe in my room. There are two letters inside. One for Winston and one for Santino—”

You work your jaw, trying to bite back your emotion and Charon’s neutral expression strains, too. 

“The combination is 29091942.”

For the first time since you’ve met him all those years ago when you were nothing more than a young naive girl, lost and alone, you see Charon’s expression crack. Just slightly. Just enough. 

He knows what those numbers mean. 

Winston’s birthday. 

“Would you—” your wet whisper breaks off and he nods his head promptly. 

“Of course, Miss,” he tells you quietly and offers his hand to you, his eyes sad. “It has truly been an honour and a joy.”

You grasp it firmly, squeezing the gloved fingers before leaning forward and wrapping one arm around him too. Charon is rigid but doesn’t push you away. 

“Thank you,” you breathe into his woollen coat, scratchy and comforting and him. He smells like the Continental. Like home and you soak in that scent one last time. “Take care of them for me. Please.”

“I will.”

You step back but he doesn’t let go of your hand, giving it another gentle squeeze before releasing your digits. 

You both know this is goodbye. 

There is no other reason as to why you would be summoned. 

With one last look, you turn to go, straightening your spine into a rigid, unyielding line. Whatever it is, you will face it as always. 

There she is, a sly voice hums in your ear. My sea on a stormy night, hm? 

John is still waiting for you a respectful distance away, his eyes downcast, and you move past him without a word. The dog trails after you, his tail wagging and you hear John follow moments later. 

Winston is waiting for you by the fountain, his head tilted towards the sky like his thoughts are miles away, and the muted glow of the setting sun paints him in a golden light. 

You come to a stop before him as always and his eyes go to you first before John halts at your side, too. 

Your stare is desperate, you know that, but something in your heart eases when Winston simply dips his head in a tiny nod of reassurance. 

Still alive. 

Oh, Santino. 

You cling to that knowledge with every shred of your being. 

The older man takes you and John in, all limbs attached, and his eyes flicker to you again. He doesn’t say anything but you can’t help but think that perhaps some minute part of him is proud. Maybe just a little bit. If you’re foolish enough to allow yourself such a pathetic thought. 

“Johnathan. V.”

“Winston.”

John’s voice is weary, guarded. There is subtle tension coiling those limbs that tells you he’s expecting an open attack at any given moment. But if that were a case it would have happened by now. Something else is going on and Winston’s thoughtful hum as he stares at his old friend only confirms it. 

“What am I looking at?” John asks eventually when Winston does nothing more than gaze at him blankly. 

The older man bobs his leg up and down, still staring, but the look in those blue eyes is cutting. It surprises you a touch—the lack of pity you see there. 

“Camorra has doubled Santino’s open contract. It’s gone international.”

14 million. 

Your blood chills in your veins. 

Gianna dead. Santino clinging onto threads of life. 

It surprises you it’s not more. For Camorra, that kind of money is pocket change. 

John exhales. “The High Table,” he assumes. 

Winston hums again, nodding. He looks no less weary, then, and something tells you that the worst is yet to come. 

“And the Continental?”

Your muscles lock. For one, sluggish second you see red. Almost go for him with your bare hands alone. 

After what he did—

Winston’s head snaps up, and this time something old and merciless stares back at you both. “You shot a member of the High Table on company grounds, Jonathan,” he reminds him coldly, the corners of his mouth tilting downwards. “You leave me no choice but to declare you Excommunicado. The doors to any service or provider in connection with the Continental are now closed to you.” 

No weapons. No medicine. No supplies. 

Every helping hand cut off and your body effectively tossed to the very bowels of the pit that is the underground world ready to be devoured. 

You’re not surprised that it takes John a few moments to digest something like that. 

Your eyes lower and you smile. 

A sad, accepting thing. 

“I am so sorry,” Winston says with an exhale. 

Your eyes lift and his stare is on you. 

“Winston,” John growls under his breath. “She had nothing to do with this.”

The man before you blinks, sparing his old friend a brief look before he nods his head. “Oh, I am well aware of that. The High Table, however, does not see it that way.”

You look towards the lake, towards the sky, towards the trees. 

“Santino lived because of (Name) interference,” John insists, his voice growing colder, harder. “She saved his life.”

Winston rises to his feet, his hands slipping into his pockets as he strolls closer. His steps are forceful though, and there is just a trace, a glint, of anger there as he stares at John flatly. 

“Do you believe that I do not know that, Johnathan? The fact that Santino lives is the only reason why, unlike with you, there is no bounty on her head. Yet.”

“But—”

“There are no buts about this,” Winston cuts in, his calm words laced with ice. “The security footage from the museum was retrieved. Can you guess what it showed? V saving your life time and time again. The High Table believes that she should have shot you in the head the first chance she got and been done with it. Her inaction with Tarasov and subsequent saving of your life when you came after Santino—one of their own—has been deemed treasonous.”

John is quiet after that; a rolling, barely contained storm.  

You’re still staring at the trees, silent. 

In the far distance, kids screech happily as they chase pigeons. 

You wonder if any of them belong to the Bowery King.

Winston steps closer and you meet his stare calmly, expectant. “I told you this would happen, my dear. I did warn you,” he remarks unhappily but his words lack accusation. They’re just…sad. “You can’t expect to walk this line between both sides forever and come away unscathed every time.”

Luck runs out. Consequences follow. 

His words from your last summoning right after Tarasov’s death. 

You should have known that it’s only a matter of time before they came back to haunt you. 

“Keep him safe.”

It’s the only request you can think of. 

The only one that matters right now. 

Because the list of people that would rather see Santino D’Antonio dead is a long one.

Winston’s mouth thins into a hard line but he dips his head in agreement, his gaze solemn, and the relief that follows that is immense. He will keep his promise. Even if he doesn’t like the Italian. You would trust no one else with it. 

“I’m sorry but both of your lives are now forfeited.” 

There is regret there. Genuine and plain to hear and see. 

The older man looks like he rather be doing anything but standing here with you and delivering this news. 

“Then why are we not dead?” John wonders carefully, his words low. 

Winston’s head tilts, almost insulted, and that ruthless man you have come to respect and rely on and even love over the years stares at John like he has said something incredibly funny. 

“Because I deemed it not to be,” he replies bluntly, his head turning to nod at someone behind John. 

You hear a faint command of “now” and every person in the Bethesda Fountain Square simply stops. 

They turn to face you as one, and your eyes track over the crowd, taking in all the faces surrounding you. 

Winston’s eyebrows arch, amused, and you think that on any other day you might have been both amazed and terrified by such a casual display of power. Of influence. 

Winston is the beating iron heart of New York City. 

He nods once, and every person in your line of sight turns around and walks away.

Dozens of people. Gone.   

Just like that. 

The older man pulls back his sleeve, checking his watch before calmly informing you, “You have one hour. Couldn’t delay it any longer.”

He reaches into his pocket, pulling out an all too familiar object and offers it to John. “You might need this. Down the road.”

A Marker. 

Your jaw clenches subtly. 

Another trap for someone. 

Those wise blue eyes move towards you, and you force back a scornful smile. “Let me guess? Locked down?”

Winston sighs and slants his head in agreement. “Yes, any and all of your arsenal located at the Continental is hereby locked down and no longer accessible to you,” he informs you coolly. “They have forbidden anyone from so much as touching it. Everything is now under the Table’s jurisdiction.”

Your lips pull back but it’s not a smile. “Good luck to them,” you mutter tightly. “They will never get their hands on my work.”

You had made sure of it.

His lips twitch slightly, a gleam in his eyes. “But of course not,” he agrees easily, knowingly. “However, this was in my personal possession and as such I see no reason as to why the Table’s restriction rule should apply to it.” 

A tiny box rests in his palm, even smaller than the Marker he offered John moments prior. 

You know that dark gleaming surface well. 

Your breath hitches, your wide-eyed stare flying up to his. “Is that…”

“Mhm.”

He offers it to you and you reach for it, having to draw a few deep breaths to keep your voice steady. “Thank you, Winston.”

A possible lifeline down the road. And a personal risk if anyone ever finds out he gave it to you.

His weathered, warm fingers linger against yours for a beat. “You know what you have to do,” he tells you pointedly, sternly. 

You will always make the same mistakes. You will always lose.

Yes, you do know. 

You’ve always known.

Fight, Winston’s expression tells you and you straighten, your fingers clenching around the tiny box. Make me proud.

I will.

His mouth twitches again. 

“I do.”

Here at the most critical time in your life—and even with the lingering, awful dread churning in your gut about Santino—you feel calm. 

You feel the calmest you’ve ever been. 

Santino will live and I will succeed. 

You repeat it in your head. Over and over. In the beat with your usual counting.

Those words will be forged into reality and you don’t care who you have to go through to make it happen. 

The significance of your exchange with Winston might have escaped John, but that doesn’t stop his next, icy words. “Winston, tell them, tell them all,” he starts and for the first time since his house, your look towards him. It isn’t John speaking, not right now. “Whoever comes, whoever it is, we’ll kill them all.”

We.

Before you can interject, Winston speaks with a faint smile, his previous coldness easing a touch. “Of course you will.” 

For several moments, you all stand unmoving but you know you can’t delay any longer.   

“Johnathan.”

“Winston.”

The man glances at you, a furrow between his brows accenting the deep lines of his face. “It’s a goodbye, my dear.”

You don’t so much as blink. “For now,” you note coolly. 

“Coffee and brandy are 7pm sharp every night,” he remarks casually, seemingly pleased at the steel in your voice, and his hands slip into his coat pockets. “I don’t tolerate tardiness.”

You read his words for what they are. 

I’ll be waiting for you back home. 

Nodding your head once, you turn to go. You don’t look back, either. It would hurt too much. There is always a chance—

No, no chances. Not this time.

With every step, you repeat your new mantra in your head. Form a new plan. 

Continental first. Not for weapons. But because you need—

“(Name).”

“Make it quick, John.”

His fingers brush over your hand and you pull back, halting on top of the stairs. He stands a few steps below and dog joins you at the top. 

“We should stick together,” he tells you urgently, his voice soft, cautious. “If there are people out there who are after you then they will use this opportunity.”

“Let them.”

Let Lucien come. He wanted you over the edge. 

Right now, you feel ready to rip his spine out with your bare hands. 

Lucien. The pale-haired monster who robbed you of the precious hours that could have averted this entire mess in the first place. 

He might not have pulled the trigger but he took from you the only chance of fixing this peacefully. 

His name has joined the list of those who will be dead soon enough. 

He wanted a dance. You will give him a hurricane. 

“In an hour we’ll be hunted by at least half of this city.”

Your eyes sweep over the park before they drag back to him and your brief smile is cold. “No, John,” you disagree mildly and watch him blink. “What will happen is that you will be hunted by 90% of them because they’re money hungry and 14 million is a pretty price to pay for someone’s head. People will come for me, too, but they will be so eager to get to you first that I will be long gone from this city by then. Buy me at least an hour, would you?”

You turn to go but he grips your wrist and you tense, rotating your body back in his direction. 

“Where are you going?”

“None of your business.”

“(Name), please.”

Your eyes narrow and you tug your wrist back. “I don’t owe you anything, John. Good luck. And I mean that, but you’re on your own.” 

It’s started raining again.

The harsh, cold liquid slides down your arms and clothes as you dash up the staircase of the Continental.

The doorman pauses when he sees you, inclining his head in polite greeting. You only spare him a brief smile before dashing inside. Ignoring the wet squelch of your shoes against the gleaming floor, you go straight for the elevator, not needing to look towards the reception to know that Charon is not back yet.

Your eyes track over the people in the lobby, watching for any threats. Even with 35min still on the clock, you’re not about to take chances.

Wiping the water from your face, your partially numb fingers press on the floor one level below the basement. The basement floor only Charon and Winston have access to. The vaults. But you know better than to tempt fate. You’re not here for your solutions or poison.

The door pings open and you pull the door to the side, pushing ahead as quickly as possible.

Continental’s medical floor is eerily still. Most visitors receive care in their own rooms. This floor is for emergencies only. For worst of the worst.

Hurrying along the hall, you stumble to stop at the sight of a lithe frame of a woman sitting alone on a bench ahead. Her tattooed fingers rest on her other heavily bandaged hand and you exhale slowly, approaching cautiously.

Ares looks up, her expression pinched. She doesn’t look surprised to see you.

The clinical, dim light makes her face look more gaunt and the usually fierce glow in her blue eyes is dimmed too.

She rises slowly and you can see the difficulty in the action.

Your paralyser, as always, has done its job well.  

“Ares—”

It’s slow and clumsy and you see it coming but don’t try to dodge.

Her punch connects with your lower jaw and your head snaps to the side, the impact rattling your teeth.

You steady yourself with a wince, your fingers rising to nurse your tender skin and meet her raging eyes with a single, understanding nod.

“Yeah, I deserved that,” you mutter tiredly, wiping at your still damp skin. Your eyes lower for a second with a shaky swallow. “Can I see him?”

It’s a faint question, brimming with uncertainty.

For several minutes she only glowers at you, unmoving.

You’re about to plead with her that you have to see him but her hands lift before you can open your mouth again.

Alive. For now, she signs and her movements are more sluggish than usual. But no one is allowed to see him. Still in operation.

Swallowing, you glance towards the floor.

Few droplets of water have fallen to the floor from your dripping clothes.

“And the blood?”

They had enough.

The puncture wound in the crook of your arm twinges at those words.

An emergency transfusion had been a priority after the doctors just barely managed to stop the bleeding.

Noting the still furious twist of her features, you let your eyes flutter shut in defeat.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe quietly. “But what was I suppose to do?”

Ares doesn’t hesitate.

Shoot him in the face.

Your jaw clenches and you shake your head. “You know I couldn’t do that.”

And my friend and boss might die because you could not, is her angry reply and your throat closes up. I thought you cared about him more than that.

“I do care for him. I—” you shoot back immediately but your words twist around your tongue, halting you. “You have no idea just how much I care about him,” you add quietly, your voice thin, and something about the hard set of her features eases a smidge at that.

“I guess the punishment fits the crime,” you continue with a sardonic twist of your lips. Your eyes meet hers and the confusion you see on her face, in turn, confuses you. “I’m being made Excommunicado, Ares. I have 35 minutes before it goes live,” you explain slowly, your voice pinching with pain.

She blinks, her lips parting slightly.

The morose curve of your lips stretches. She knows full well what this means.

That’s why you move closer towards her even as your jaw still aches from her earlier punch. Reaching deep behind the layers of your clothing, you pull out an ordinary looking flip phone, holding it out to her.

“So please. I know you’re angry at me. I know, but—” you plead for her and tighten your grip on the burner phone. “I need to know. Whatever happens to him I—please, Ares. Please.”

After everything that’s just happened, she doesn’t have to do anything you’ve asked of her. She doesn’t owe you anything.

But her hand grasps yours, tightening her thin but worn fingers around your own. Your shoulders sag in relief as she pulls the phone from your hand and slips it into her pocket with a single, reluctant nod.

She still looks angry but—

“Thank you,” you whisper with a wobbly smile and focus on her bandaged hand. “Your hand?”

Roberto, you know, is recovering already.  

She doesn’t get to answer though.

Because before she can do so, a door opens from behind you, and a group of purposeful footsteps approaches.

At least four pairs.

“Well, well, look who it is.”

Your expression slackens.

Ares doesn’t react fast enough.

Hector reacts just fast enough.

You’re not sure if it’s the adrenaline or that humming dark or desperation or just anger and poor timing on his part, but you slam the man twice your size against the wall with a strength that causes a bang to rip through the empty hallway.

“Where were you?” you snarl, furious and low, your blade against the curve of his throat as you other tangles in his silky, dark suit. “Where the fuck were you?”

“Careful, sweetheart,” Hector warns softly, his mouth twitching into a sneer, but something glints in those icy eyes for a brief second. Surprise. “I’ll give you one free pass given the circumstances but there won’t be a second.”

Bodies surround you, but you ignore them, still glaring at the man before you.

“V, stop!”

“Oh, let her beat his ass, Julian,” another familiar voice drawls, unconcerned, his voice full of amusement. “I’ve been waiting for a rematch for years.”

A frustrated sigh. “Shut up, Step, you’re not helping.”

Another tall figure comes to a stop beside you—one that towers even over Hector but neither of you looks away from the other. “Let’s cool it, everyone,” that deep rumble of a voice tries to ease the tension. Dario. If Julian fails to mediate, then the burden falls onto him. Some things truly never change. “Come now, bella. Ease it up. V.”

You ignore Ares. You ignore the other members of the Four who are watching you and Hector with clear worry.  

“Where were you?” you wonder with a quiet exhale, your fury palpable.

Hector scowls at you and leans into your blade. The metal kisses those mighty wings but there is no fear in his eyes and your expression warps with rage. “Did you hit your head?” he mocks, annoyed. His grip on your hands constricts, his rings scoring your skin. “I was covering your slow ass and taking on a small army so you could get to Santino quicker but oopsie, am I right?”

You drop your hands away from him with disgust, breathing heavily and Hector rolls his eyes, fixing the cuffs of his suit with a bored expression.

“You failed him,” you whisper, choked, your voice soft with vicious sort of accusation. “You failed Camorra.”

The lowest insult you can offer him. His loyalty to Camorra is absolute. He may not follow the individual but this harms the entire family.

It goes so quiet at your words that you could hear a pin drop. Even Step’s not so subtle snickering ceases. Like they can all appreciate that this situation may take a turn for worse very quickly.

The last time you two fought, there was blood spilt.

This time, you imagine it might come down to more than just blood.  

Hector straightens, his sharp features stony. “I know.”

But it’s not enough.

And you can’t stop the avalanche now that it’s been unleashed.  

“He needed you to be there for him and where were you?” you continue on, spitting out every word out like a curse, an anathema. “You should have been faster getting to the gallery. You should have been better.”

Hector peers at you, unblinking.  

“Are we still talking about me?”

You leap at him but this time he’s ready for you and catches you in his grip, his back hitting the wall again, quieter this time.

Julian and Dario are there at once, their hands trying to drive you apart but a cool, calm command freezes you all.

“Enough.”

Charon.

Others look towards the man at the other end of the hallway but you and Hector are unmoving, still glaring at each other. You’re practically shaking with fury.

He’s right.

Your words were directed more at yourself than they were ever directed at him.

And yet.

“This doesn’t concern you, butler,” Hector calls out coolly, his quicksilver stare drilling into you and his grip on you doesn’t loosen. Smart man. “This is a Camorra matter.”

“Miss Vipress is not, however, Camorra.”

The unspoken Get your hands off her is clear to anyone with any semblance of common sense.

Hector relaxes against the wall, his head tilting as he waits.  

“If you’re done with your hissy fit, sweetheart,” he speaks gruffly after another tense few seconds and clicks his tongue. “We need to talk. In private.”

All eyes are on you.

Hector only blinks, bored.

You release your grip abruptly, your fingers flexing, and Ares practically materialises by your side while Dario partially places himself between you and the Camorra Devil.

Your eyes slide towards Charon who stands with his hands clasped behind him. He’s still clad in his coat and scarf from earlier, indicating that he’s just returned. Winston is nowhere to be seen. You incline your head in a silent thanks and cut a brief look at the Camorra Elite.

All four are rigged out in their typical dark suits. The deep burgundy you have also seen them wear is for Camorra’s special occasions only. Like births, deaths and coronations.

You suddenly recall that Julian and Dario never wore the typical Camorra wine red on Gianna’s coronation and your curiosity peaks. Except, of course, you have no time for a catch up with them now. No matter how welcomed the distraction would be.

“Fine,” you mutter, your muscles still taut. “Hurry it up.”

Hector brushes past Dario and the Four part for him, following his lead effortlessly. They move like a well-oiled machine. Dario shares a brief look with Julian, and the shorter man looks like he’s forcing back a sigh, his dark moustache twitching.

Hector wrenches the first door in the hallway open, slanting his head in your direction impatiently.

Ares, Dario and Julian walk in first; all of them varying degrees of uneasy.  

Step moves to follow, too, but Hector raises his hand, stopping him halfway.  

“Not you.”

Step with his thin, wiry frame and pale face looks like a kid picking a fight with a bull. Even though he’s the youngest from the guard, that makes him no less dangerous. You can’t quite see his eyes behind those customary round sunglasses he usually wears everywhere but you can see the irritated strain on his face.  

“You’re joking.”

His voice is low and stark with bitter disbelief but Hector doesn’t so much as twitch.

“No,” Hector deadpans without missing a beat. “Guard the hallway. We don’t need ears.”

For a second, those pale eyes jump over your shoulder where Charon no doubt lingers.  

“Fine,” Step forces out, forcefully cheerful and his head tips in your direction, his grin bright. His tattoos stretch across his neck and he wiggles his fingers at you, his own Camorra rings gleaming in the artificial light. “Would thy fair lady like anything from the vending machine? My treat.”

Your eyes go to Hector for a second.  

“Skittles.”

Step grins even wider, if possible. “Only if you let me eat the yellow ones.”

You almost smile, then. If all this wasn’t going on, if Santino wasn’t clinging to life and you weren’t about to become one of the most wanted individuals in the world, you might have.

“Sure,” you agree before adding a deliberate, “I reckon I owe you after the last time.”

Hector’s eyes narrow at that, becoming two slits, and Step’s strained grin transforms into something slyer, more biting.

He always enjoys having something over Hector’s head.

He pushes the glasses up his nose and gives you a staged nod. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek and he gives Hector another stare before wandering off without a backwards glance.

The leader of the Elite’s gestures for you to get into the room and you push past him.

Julian is signing something to Ares when you enter, and Dario stands beside them, his hands burrowed deep into his suit pockets. His long hair is pulled back into a high bun as always and loose strands brush against his beard when he turns towards you.

Beneath their pitch-black jackets, you can just make out the gleam of their weapons.

They’re armed to the teeth.

Good.

The other two turn to you when you enter the room and you try for a smile, no matter how forced.

“It’s good to see you both,” you tell them and mean it and both men smile, too. Your attention swings back to Hector, however, just as the Devil closes the door behind him, sealing you all inside. “But whatever it is that you want from me make it quick.”

A subtle threat.

The man doesn’t outwardly react, simply lifting his arm.

“Catch.”

Your hand snaps out, your actions instinct alone, and grab the tiny object that sails through the air towards you.

It’s small and cool to the touch.

Your fingers loosen from a fist, blinking in confusion and something in your gut hardens at the realisation of what exactly you’re looking at.

“They—” your voice cracks and you pause, forcing calm back into your demeanour as you turn your attention to Hector who only stares at you emotionless. “They will not follow me. I’m an outsider. Half of them don’t even like me.”

The ring of Camorra sits in your outstretched palm.

The ring only the Head of Camorra is permitted to wear.

Or, in this case, the Acting Boss appointed prior.

Your stomach churns.

You have seen this ring on Giovanni’s hand many times. The golden metal that gleams like new even though you know it’s been in the D’Antonio family for generations. The blood-red ruby the size of your thumb nail glimmers in the light and you stare at it in disbelief. You can’t even begin to imagine this ring’s worth.

“You’re right,” Hector retorts blankly, unfeeling, and crosses his arms over his chest. A ripple of his muscles teases the deadly strength there. In dimmer light, his pale eyes seem to almost glow with wry mirth as he addresses you. “Frankly, they rather shoot you dead than follow you. But there are still those who value what that ring represents. That believe the order and the command that comes with it. Those who answer to that ring will obey. Princeling at least had enough foresight to prepare for the worst case scenario. Little Saint has made you his heir, sweetheart. And until he either dies or revokes the title himself, it’s binding.”

Binding because it came from Hector himself and no one would ever question his loyalty or integrity towards Camorra.

Santino has outmanoeuvred everyone by giving away his symbol of power. The very ring he’s been desperate to wear since he was a little boy.

A safety net in case he dies.

The realisation makes your heart hurt.

The families of Camorra will not obey you because, to them, you are nothing. You have not been sworn in, do not answer to their laws and their authority. But they cannot harm you either. And anyone who does, Camorra or not, risk invoking the wrath of the entire family if they do.

But above all that—

Those who answer to that ring will obey.      

Your head turns towards the other two Elites’ and Ares. They’re already looking at you and not one of them looks surprised by this turn of events. Either they already knew beforehand or know Santino well enough to not put a gamble like that past him.

Almost in sync, the three of them bow their heads.

A show of respect. An unspoken promise that what you command, they will do.

A shuddering breath rushes out of your lungs that has nothing to do with your damp hair or clothes.

Clenching your jaw, your eyes drag towards Hector who hasn’t moved from his spot by the door.

He doesn’t budge, his arms still crossed over his chest, stretching the seams of his suit.

The Devil of Camorra does not bow his head to you.

He bows to no one.

The only man he’s ever respected enough for such a gesture is rotting six feet under the dirt and his ring is now in your hands. You don’t think there will ever be another individual alive that Hector will ever respect enough to bow his head to them. Oh, if only Giovanni had known years ago that one day you will be bestowed the most valuable heirloom in his family’s possession.

You imagine he would have killed you on the spot.

He laughed, and he said, ‘He is more like me than I realised. He would let this whole world burn to ash, as long as she’s the one standing beside him in the flames.’  

Gianna’s words echo at the back of your mind, and a part of you wonders if perhaps Giovanni always did know. If perhaps he always suspected that due to whatever circumstances you might reach this moment in time one day.

You think about your brief conversation on that snowy balcony at Prague and know that you’re right.

“Stay here,” you tell the trio on the other side of the room. Your words sound far away, distant, but strong too. Focused. “No one who isn’t us or the doctor comes near him, understood?”

Your stare drifts to the far off wall in a daze, and you know that somewhere in this building, Santino is out there fighting.

As will you.

Nodding your head at them, you turn to go.

Hector’s arms loosen across his chest and he steps after you when you move in the direction of the door.

You halt at once, your head snapping to face him.

“What are you doing?”

A slow, lazy roll of his eyes as he fishes for a cigarette.

“Coming with you. Were you not listening? I go where that ring goes,” he informs you dully, and lights a cigarette with expert ease. He takes a deep drag, savouring it, and frowns at you, the deep curve of his eyebrows pinching together. “Drop the fucking scowl, sweetheart. I know you think that just because you’re in New York and your connections here run deep, you’re untouchable or some shit but you’re wrong.”

Smoke rolls from between his lips as he talks and your scowl only deepens. In return, he looks amused at best. “In twenty minutes half the scum of this city will come for you just to prove a point,” he reminds you, tapping the glass of his expensive watch, and the bird tattoo on the back of his hand flutters like your slipping time. “Don’t let your over-inflated sense of self-importance cloud your common sense.”

Your turn towards him fully, your chin tilting.

“You will stay here,” you tell him calmly, ignoring the way his eyes narrow and every strong muscle in his body quivers as if in anticipation. “And you will guard him with your life.”

You think you hear Julian curse under this breath. Dario takes a step towards you both.

“Are you ordering me?”

A dark, silky snarl of a question.

Your expression is as rigid as your body. Your fingers around the Camorra ring tighten. “I’m asking you. And I only do that once out of respect.”

A glint of something in his eyes that’s gone too quickly for you to examine.

He retreats and it feels like missing disaster by a breath.

The cigarette returns to his mouth and he grins around it. It’s a callous, mocking thing.

“Fine. Enjoy being hunted, sweetheart.”

You stare at him for a beat, too aware of your time constraint.

Camorra ring rolls in your damp palm again. Grasping it, you drag the heavy metal onto the middle finger of your left hand. Your fist clenches, the skin under your knuckles straining. The ring glimmers in the light, filling your veins with…purpose.

I will see you again, Santino.

Inclining your head in an equally disdainful manner, you only offer the man before you an aloof, “Blood for blood.”

Camorra’s words.

D’Antonio family words.

This time Hector’s version of a smile reveals teeth, almost pleased.

“Blood for blood.”

Streets blur around you.

Stumbling through the rain and the puddles drowning the New York streets, you count every breath you take, focusing on both not exerting too much energy but also your surroundings.

Everyone is an enemy.

In 7 minutes that will become a painful reality.

No one has tried anything yet. But you have seen and felt far too many eyes on you already. Many are no doubt weighing the risks. There is no reward for killing you, and most know the danger that shadows your every step.

You don’t need to touch them to kill them.

Ducking into a narrow alleyway, you slam your body weight against the sturdy metal door. Your fists follow, slamming against the door over and over again.

“Doc! Let me in! It’s me!” you shout over the pour of rain and slam your fist against the metal a few more times. “Doc!”

The door swings open suddenly and you brace yourself against the door frame.

Doc’s frantic stare meets yours and all he forces out is a shaky, “You shouldn’t have come here.”

Bowing your head in respect, you push past him. “Yeah, I know,” you mutter under your breath, working on steadying your breathing. “I just need a few things. I still have time so—”

Your words die on your tongue and you halt, your eyes narrowing.

John sits on the patient chair, his white shirt undone and a lamp shining over his bloodied shoulder.

Fresh blood.

He grips a gun in his hand but doesn’t raise it in your direction.

You hate the fact that he looks relieved—happy, even—to see you.

Blinking, you swipe your forearm over your face and move towards the shelves. Doc rushes back towards John and you glance at the clock on the wall.

4 minutes.

“What happened?” you question coldly and start opening different drawers and pulling ingredients apart.

“Ernest.”

“Funny guy but always lacked common sense,” you drone without looking at him and rip another drawer open, rummaging through the content inside. “Did you know that he tried to ask me out on a date once?”

“No.”

“Yeah.”

3 minutes.

Grabbing a familiar-looking vial, you give it a shake, lifting it to the light before you unscrew the top and drown the liquid inside.

The taste is bitter and numbs your tongue a little. You allow your face to scrunch up in disgust and shake your head harshly.

“I’m going to pay you back, Doc,” you wheeze, continuing your frantic search.

The older man huffs and you hear the fatigue there. “Just try and not make a mess.”

A few beats of quiet follow aside from your hurried rooting around Doc’s supply closet.  

“Where is it, Doc?”

“Indonesian Green Erla—”

“I’ve found the plant,” you cut him off, glancing at the clock on the wall again. “Where is it?”

2 minutes.

Doc works with nimble, experienced fingers but he’s meticulous and his focus remains on John’s wound. The man in question looks bewildered by your exchange but doesn’t interject.

“Doc—”

“You gave it to me because you told me that you were afraid of what it can do—”

“Where is it?”

You have never dared to take that tone with him. Because you like him and respect him too much. But your frayed temper strains and the coldness in your voice stills both Doc and John.

“Doc, I need it.”

The clock keeps ticking.

Your head snaps towards the wall for the hundredth time.

1 minute.

“Floorboards. Under the table by the wall.”

You rush towards it, pushing the table aside roughly, and ignore the clatter of glass as vials and medical supplies fall.

Slipping free a blade, you wedge it between floorboards, trying to rip it open.

John is urging the Doc to hurry but you focus only on your task.

“Five.”

John counts and your breathing kicks up a notch.

The wood creaks, finally coming loose and you rip it away, dropping it unceremoniously beside you.

“Four.”

You pull different boxes and packages apart. You know what you’re looking for.

“Three.”

Your eyes snag onto a tiny box and you grab it. It’s a twin—the same dark, smooth material that fits into your palm—to another tiny box already sitting in your pocket courtesy of Winston.

“Two.”

Your two deadliest creations. One created out of hate and malice and another out of hope for a better future.

One finished. One incomplete.

“One.”

Your gaze snaps to John’s just as the clock above head strikes 6pm.

Time’s up.

. . .

an: And so everyones’ favourite Italian lives. For now. :) also the man really said “fuck tradition, I do what I want” and we love to see it!!! 

Fun fact, I was planning to do Chicago (finally) right after C13 but since Chicago will be a 2 parter, I imagined that waiting for six weeks to know if Santino lives might not have been that much fun for you lot lol. 

Also a few people really worried about Team John after C13 and were like “Team J is ded” and actually as you can see from the events of this chapter the exact opposite is true. Now, you may be reading this and be like “how is this positive for them?” but this had to happen. V needed to realise that she still clung to John and loved him but it wasn’t the right kind of love. A love for a man gone, a spectre, a dream. Her dropping the ring represents her letting go of the past and starting completely fresh. Their mend after Marcus was just a prelude oppose to actual break. This is the break. All these years, V has blamed herself for John leaving by assuming that she wasn’t good enough or that John loved Helen more. Neither is true. The choice was always between who John was and who he wanted to be. He loved both V and Helen the same and it really could have gone either way. Now, at this juncture, they can start again on the same page. Now, this is not to say he’s magically forgiven for all the shit he did. He isn’t. A lot still hinges on Santino and how he will get on in the upcoming chapters. But a lot of you were like “um kat wtf?” and I hope this chapter proves that I do things for a reason and that this build up has been coming for a while now. 

There’s been a lot of things set up that are yet to be revealed. 

As always, all my love to all of you for your support and encouraging comments <33 and love for my dumb OCs, too! Love you guys and hope you’re all staying safe!

[felix-the-cat]

Saturday, September 12, 2020 – 11:11 a.m.

There is something you must know about the state of the world we are in. These things you witness are becoming more intense because the darkness is fizzling out and being exposed to the public in order to be transfused into light.

These things will not last. They are a temporary stop into the Twilight Zone of your imagination. We are clearing a path for a New World. Once complete these things you witness will be diminished and the world will be set free at long last.

The shackles of debt and division are falling away as the New Millennia is in full swing. You are being delivered from this invisible force that has controlled and manipulated mankind for thousands of years. Think of the possibilities when the world comes together under a New Sun.

Things are not always what they seem. The things you have been taught are false. They have been put in place in order to keep you obedient and asleep. The world is waking up and things will not be returning to normal.

This new system we are in has proved to be difficult to bring about, but it is coming. That is why you are here. You have been activated and finally know your purpose. Help us bring about the change you wish to see in the world.

Times are changing rapidly, and you are beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Do not be afraid for what is soon to be revealed. These things you will witness have always been amongst you. You are being shown these things in order to heal the world.

Learn how to transmute the darkness into light. You know how to do this; you need but remember. You have been here before on different planes. You are the lightworkers who have been strategically placed around the world.

These are the times you have been waiting for your whole life. Begin by being still and going within. There you will find the unity consciousness that will break apart the darkness. You are being guided step-by-step.

There is much going on behind the scenes that you may not be aware of. Here we have a transmission from a higher being that is being broadcast. It is there for you if you have ears to hear. You must listen diligently with New Ears.

It is much like a transmission from a radio tower. You are being asked to change the station so that you may ‘tune in’. these broadcasts are happening across the globe. Mother earth is purging the darkness that has dwelt among her.

These things that seem so dark are but a temporary realignment contingent on where you are inside. Think of the wonderful things that are to come about. No longer will you be plagued by debt. No longer will you be kept sick by the very people you have trusted to keep you well.

You have made it. You are beginning to see through the darkness that surrounds you. You are the Light looking within the darkness. Let your light shine so that others may wake up along side you. The world is very polarized at the moment. You are here to go between the spaces so that your brothers and sisters can merge into oneness.

These things that have been here are being broadcast in order to bring fear about. Do not fall into that trap. ‘Tune in’ to the New Broadcast. This is true reality. We are here to help bring about the changes you have so desperately searched for.

You are ready and are growing up as a species at long last. Here you will find that the world will be as new as you could ever imagine in your wildest dreams. These things are coming about as the fear and anger of thousands of years of existence is being swept away.

Think of how you want to create this new world. What would it look like? Do you know that once the dust settles you will be living in this New Paradigm? The earth has never seen anything like what is coming.

You are being prepared to enter a New Dimension of joy, peace and love. It may not seem like it at the moment; for everywhere you turn you see chaos and confusion. This is simply a by-product of the construction process.

You are being given a new chance to live the life you have always dreamed of. There is a New Creativity emerging into your reality and you play a major part in bringing this about. Here we have an example of one who is tuning out the fear narrative and going within to see what is coming.

Just over the horizon a New Day is dawning. Bring your hopes and dreams along with love and tolerance for all. We are being cast into a new role; one of a Grand Beauty and free of the shackles of the past. Bring your brothers and sisters of the light along with you.

Do not fear what is to be revealed shortly. Transmute the darkness into light as you yourself are being purged of the darkness within. We are here to show you how you too may walk the Path of Light. Begin by taking that single step and we will light the way for you.

Tonight, we will visit you if you let us in. We are here to assist you in ways you have never dreamed possible. Things are changing rapidly, and you will be able to handle these changes if you stay centered and balanced.

Together we will create this new world together. The darkness has been defeated and is making one final attempt to regain control. That is why it appears to be so massive at this time. This is an illusion created in order to maintain the fear narrative that has been playing itself out on the earth plane for so long now.

We are the light beings that are assisting you and countless others to begin to restore the earth to her proper place in the universe. Begin today to go within and bring about these changes you wish to see. The things that you witness externally are simply a Dark Play reaching its final act.

You are going to re-write the narrative as a collective. You are the chosen ones who are to help bring these things about. Stay in love, hope and faith; for these things are coming to pass. Let the darkness within and without be purged in order to make space for the Light.

Here are the things that have come about at this time. We have been here for millennia helping to slowly wake mankind and are now able to assist in a more personal way because you have asked for this. We will never impede upon your free will. You have requested assistance at long last and we have responded.

No longer does the world need to live in fear. The New Earth is emerging as we shift timelines rapidly out of the old and into the new. Begin tonight to help purge the darkness within yourself so that your light may shine brighter. We have become a major part of who you are and are going to reveal ourselves to you in short order. Thank you for ‘tuning in’…

[40sbarnes]

Medici: Spymasters of Florence

Chapter 12: Out of Luck

hope you enjoy this chapter! we are finally getting some actual lorenzo x reader content lmao

pairings: lorenzo x reader (fr), francesco c reader (friends)

tag list: @brynthebulldozer @mythicalamphitrite @nana035 @valravnsraven @hannahhistorian92 @not-thatweird @isaac-lahey-is-bae @angrygardendeer <3

“May I ask," your attention was pulled to Lorenzo by his words, "why the sudden change of heart?" His interest appeared genuine, no ulterior motive. You had halted your journey as night began to fall, the horse needing the rest more than either of you. You stood across from each other in the tavern room you were holed up in for the night. It wasn't as if you could rent two rooms without suspicion, especially with you being a woman.

"The truth?" You sighed, your fingers pulling at the strings of your cloak. Lorenzo hummed as a reply, eyes watching you intently. You didn't see a reason to lie to Lorenzo anymore, and he was the only person you could truly talk to this about anyways. "I delivered the message to Orsini today," Lorenzo's lips parted, but he didn't say anything, "for Pazzi. Orsini didn't take any notice of course. I knew you'd taken care of it." Worry flashed throughout your eyes for a second, realising Lorenzo might be upset you didn't double check with him.

"That must have been difficult," he took a step towards you, still leaving plenty of space, "but what you did was not in vain, y/n, not then, not now." He reassured you, you were surprised that was where his mind had gone.

You just nodded slightly, now holding your cloak in your arms, as if you were a child holding their favourite blanket. "So you came with me because...?" Lorenzo pried.

"Because you were right," you hated admitting it, "a break wouldn't kill me. Perhaps the opposite..." A soft grin fell onto Lorenzo's lips, "and because right now, I don't feel like being around the people I care for," you were precise with your words, not quite meaning the harsh intent they held. But you didn't wish to be around Francesco or Guglielmo as of right now. The guilt would seep right out of you and into their fingertips, ready to be dropped into their Uncle's lap.

Lorenzo chuckled slightly, looking down at the ground as he raised his eyebrows. "I see. I know the feeling."

"I didn't-" you weren't quite sure what to say, or why you cared that you might've offended him, "what of your predicament? Any more rejections from noble women?" You settled on changing the subject instead.

He laughed again, standing taller as he thought of an answer, "Not yet. But I fear my mother’s mind has settled on marriage now. It only makes sense now that I'm head of the family, but I guess I'd never truly considered it before," he shrugged, resting his hand on the end of the bed frame.

"Because of Lucrezia Donati?" You pushed, intrigued. He seemed taken aback, clearly not used to people being so brazen with him.

"I knew I could never marry Lucrezia. Honestly that might've been the beauty of it," he kicked off his shoes as he uttered the statement, acting as if it was a casual thing to say.

"I suppose I hold some fortune in that, then," you pushed your hair off your shoulder, setting your cloak down on the bed, sitting beside it. Lorenzo moved onto his over shirt once he was finished with his shoes, shooting you a glance to tell you to elaborate.

"For all your riches, and lack of mine, at least I needn't worry for my standing, or marriage, for the most part," your eyes couldn't meet Lorenzo's, so they fell to your lap. You didn't have a family to sell you into marriage, and although one day you may be forced to convince some poor man to take your hand, you were doing a good job of preventing yourself from that fate for now. You knew most women weren't as lucky, and you did well not to take your situation for granted.

"The most part?" Lorenzo questioned, his tone serious as he sat to your right on the opposite side of the bed, you lying down to stretch out your legs.

"Well, it's only a matter of time before you convince me to give you my hand in some scheme," you teased, still slightly in disbelief he'd gotten you on this trip.

Lorenzo scoffed, not enjoying your joke. "What a deluded thing to say," he shook his head. You furrowed your brows, turning your torso fully to face him.

"The reason my mother is pushing me to marry is for noble blood. Not for whatever runs through your veins," he spoke the words as if they weren't dripping with venom.

You turned away from him, "A simple jest, Lorenzo. Not everything has to be about how I am so very much beneath you," in that moment, it was pure hatred running through your veins.

"Y/n- please, we both know you'd never marry me, I was simply-" he began, you closed your eyes, as if it would shut out his horrid voice.

"You're right. I could never be so lucky," you squeezed your eyes shut tight, "all this talk of how I'm such a peasant has truly tired me out. If you would please let me sleep...goodnight Lorenzo."

Silence ensued. Your anger soon subsided, and you felt yourself drifting, sleep guiding you away from that small room.

Lorenzo's voice was the quietest you had ever heard it, but it filled the air nonetheless. "I'm sorry. It is I who is out of luck."

You didn't have the energy to respond, not that you even had a response.

—-

You woke at the crack of dawn the next morning, finding the blankets had been placed over you. You spun on your side, looking for a sign of Lorenzo. The chair across the bed was empty, as was the bed beside you. You sat up, worry setting in, until you saw his messy locks resting on the bottom of the bed. You glanced over him, he was resting against blankets, sitting on the floor. You felt bad for a fraction of a second, before you recalled the events of last night.

Carefully, you rose from the bed, doing your best not to disturb Lorenzo. You truly didn't feel like talking with him just yet. Instead, you opted to retrieve your cloak from where it had fallen on the floor, and replaced it around your shoulders. You danced across the room, reaching the door without a noise, only to slam it after you. You hoped it would wake him up, and he could get ready without you having to wait, and put up with his presence.

You skipped down the steps of the inn, making it outside to take in the colours of the sunrise. You breathed in the fresh air, before heading to the stables, going to check on Callus. Lorenzo didn't know the horse’s name, which shocked you, so you'd insisted on naming the helpful creature. You gave him a quick pat, not used to dealing with horses.

"Heading out already?" The stable girl appeared beside you.

"Yes, must make the most of the day," you acted with an air of class, the girl just grinned up at you, before climbing over the gate to the horses.

"I'll get her ready for ya," she began saddling 'her'. You had assumed it was a male, from all Lorenzo's 'faster boy’s as he pushed the horse to go faster. Now you weren't sure Callus quite fit. You stopped your trail of thought before it could completely escape you, and your eyes fell back on the girl as she worked. You were going to Venice. It would be easier to run away from there, you'd already have so much distance down. You could perhaps become like this girl? She didn't seem so miserable. Definitely much happier than you currently were. You didn't have long to consider your thoughts as a stressed Lorenzo came flying out the inn. He was notably in a different outfit than yesterday, clearly having packed for the trip, unlike you. He slowed his pace as he caught sight of you.

"Good morning," you greeted him, leaned on the fence.

"I thought you'd run off," he lowered his voice, speaking through gritted teeth.

You swallowed, feeling slightly guilty as you watched the tension in his back dissipate, relief washing over him. You hadn't done it of course, just thinking about it constantly.

"And you'd care?" You seethed, not looking his way.

Lorenzo stood back, straightening his clothes as he did, he had clearly put them on in a rush. "Clearly."

You spared him a glance, his eyes burning into your own, and you were unable to look away.

"I need you, y/n," your heart froze, his face was but inches from yours, "you're integral to the plan," you turned back to watch the stable girl, moving away from him.

"Well, I'm here," you spoke, your voice flat. Lorenzo continued his stare until Callus was ready, and you both stepped back from the gate to let it creak open. The reigns were handed to Lorenzo, and he began attaching his bags to the saddle.

"Thank you," you took the stable girls hand into yours, sliding a few coins into it before closing it over as Lorenzo paid no notice.

She bowed slightly, "You are more than welcome, Madonna," that caught Lorenzo's attention, his gaze falling onto you once again, before he straightened out the saddle, getting ready to mount.

The young girl took your hold on her hand to pull you in closer, "I wish my betrothed looked at me the way your husband does," she made sure to keep her voice low. You stifled a laugh at the irony, until your heart sank in realisation.

"Your betrothed?" She seemed far younger than yourself, nowhere near the age for marriage.

She nodded, "Well, in two years, when I am of age," the pain in her eyes didn't go unnoticed by you.

"He won't look at you the same. He will treat you with far more respect than I am given," you promised her, not wanting her to idealise whatever your relation to Lorenzo was.

"Y/n," as if on cue, Lorenzo's name fell from your lips, although not as harsh sounding as usual.

The girl shot you one last sad smile, before she returned to her work and you yours.

Facing back to Lorenzo, he assisted you onto Callus, before pulling himself up. He took the reins into his hands and you continued your journey without another word.

—-

You came to a stop once again in a town just outside Venice. All three of you were hungry, and the sun had yet to reach its peak. Lorenzo was planning on attending the banquet for Vitelli’s grandson’s birth, a celebration of the continuation of the bloodline, which wasn't until tonight. You had plenty of time.

Once you had found Callus a safe stable to rest in, you led Lorenzo to the centre of the town, where the market was bubbling.

"You wouldn't find these in Florence," you nudged Lorenzo slightly from where you stood in front of the blacksmith, half teasing as you knew his love for your city, but also in awe at the swordsmanship.

He smirked at your words, also admiring the fine blades. "I'd like to see their art," he bragged, always finding a way to one up.

"Maybe this is it," you suggested, marvelling at the different daggers.

"Come along, I'm starved," he spoke after a moment. You did as he said, as your hunger was getting the best of you also.

You soon found a seedy public house, not much different from the Florentine ones. Lorenzo bought you both meals, and you picked away at it, trying your best to ignore the rowdiness of your fellow customers.

"Is that the only gown you brought?" Lorenzo questioner, motioning to the dress you were wearing.

You nodded, swallowing the food you were chewing before replying. "I truly hadn't planned on joining you."

"It won't do for the banquet. You'll be serving drinks by the end of the night," you bit back all the horrid remarks you wished to make, about Lorenzo and his constant condescension.

"Well sorry, your highness, an arrogant man burnt my banquet gown," you huffed.

Lorenzo grinned as he held back a laugh, "I do apologise for that. But that doesn't change our current circumstance. We'll have to get you a new gown. Hopefully this town’s dressmaking holds up to their forgery."

You just nodded, feeling odd about the situation. Pazzi had loaned you a fancy gown once or twice before for similar purposes, the idea wasn't foreign to you, but it felt particularly peculiar with Lorenzo. Especially with last night’s conversation still fresh in mind.

—-

You stepped out of the fitting room, feeling incredibly vulnerable in the dress. It was half an inch too tight, making you stand up that little bit straighter to hold your poise. Your shoulders were bare, and you were oddly aware of the cool air around them. The dress was quite plain, a deep crimson colour, the sleeves falling to your wrists, where they hung wide around them. The skirt was much more constricting than you were used to, and you imagined if you were to don your usual blade on your thigh it would make for a terrible silhouette.

You stood in Lorenzo's line of sight, and he sat up taller from where he was slouched in his chair. He surveyed you for a moment, before his gaze switched to the seamstress beside you.

"Doesn't she look splendid?" The seamstress asked, pushing for her sale. You had stumbled upon her small shop after you'd eaten.

"Danger often takes shelter in beauty," he mused, sharing a grin with you, the tailor barely taking notice. "How much?"

[inurear786]

Everything is energy in this universe – this is not just believed by those of us who are spiritual beings but also by various prominent scientists. Nikola Tesla’s famous quote “If you want to find the secrets of the universe, think in terms of energy, frequency and vibration”, just proves how scientists for years have been suggesting us to be mindful of our energy and vibrations.

In fact, a few scientists have also quantified the vibrations of various moods and states of being of a human being’s mind.

Such studies only confirm what spiritual gurus have been trying to tell the world for years, i.e., when you are vibrating higher, you are happier and calmer. On the other hand, when you are vibrating lower, you are sad, angry and irritated.

A study by Dr. David Hawkins is one such substantial example. Thus, it becomes crucial to understand how to raise your vibration and make the best out of your life. 

In This Article hide

‘Raise Your Vibration’ – Meaning

Why Should You Raise Your Vibration?

How to Raise Your Vibration?

1. Eat high-frequency food

2. Meditate

3. Do physical activity

4. Reduce the usage of internet

5. Bathing

6. Spend time with high vibration people

7. Spend some time in the surroundings of nature

8. Listen to music that is vibrating higher

9. Be giving and loving

10. Show gratitude

11. Accept and forgive

12. Be Mindful of Your Thoughts

13. Appreciate Your Life

14. Drink a Lot of Water

15. Cut on Addictive Substances

16. Have Compassion

17. Consume Positive Media

18. Surround Yourself with Aesthetics

19. Make High-Vibrational Relationships

20. Be Conscious of Your Environment

21. Listen to Your Inner Child

22. Have Self-Love & Care

23. Go for Clarity

24. Practice a Morning Ritual

25. Keep a Journal

26. Expand Your Creative Wings

27. Look for Beauty

29. Laugh Your Heart Out

30. Stretch & State Out Loud

31. Smudge Your Space

32. Say NO to Negativity

What Happens When You Raise Your Vibration?

How to Raise Your Vibration when Depressed?

How to Raise Your Vibrational Frequency?

How to Raise Your Spiritual Vibration?

Raise Your Vibration Meditation

Use Music to Raise Your Vibration

Raise Your Vibration Books

Raise Your Vibration Quotes

Closing Thought

‘Raise Your Vibration’ – Meaning

When we say that everything is made of energy, we also have to understand that this energy vibrates at different speeds. If we are made of atoms and we have our own energy then it becomes paramount for us to ensure that this energy vibrates at a rate that can make us our best versions. Raising your vibration essentially means turning your life in the direction of happiness, satisfaction, and productivity.

Some events may look like a mere coincidence to you but in reality, you attract your own vibration. If you are vibrating higher, you attract the same kind of frequency. This is also the reason why you must believe that your life and its events are entirely in your hands. All you have to do is vibrate higher and attract what you want. 

“The amount of time it takes you to get from where you are to where you want to be, is only the amount of time it takes you to change the vibration within you. Instant manifestation could be yours if you could instantly change the vibration”.

– Abraham Hicks

Why Should You Raise Your Vibration?

To take charge of your life 

To attract positive things in your life 

To control your emotions 

To feel happy, satisfied and productive 

To utilize your maximum potential 

To live your best life 

To feel at ease 

To eradicate hate, fear, and anger from your life 

To create love, compassion, and hope in your life 

How to Raise Your Vibration and Live Your Best Life?

How to Raise Your Vibration?

Many times we feel low and we want to increase our vibration to be more confident and attract positive things in life. Here are some ways to raise vibrations when depressed –

1. Eat high-frequency food 

High vibration foods are nuts, honey, chocolate, rice seeds, herbal tea, etc. These food items have high energy and help you feel good instantly. This can also work as a simple experiment you do with yourself to understand the importance of higher energy.

Eating greens and cutting down alcohol can turn out to be the easiest way to increase your vibration. For some people, alcohol works as a depressant. To remain spiritually connected, you must cut down on your drinking habits and release toxins from your body.

It will make you feel fresh and energetic. The food you eat needs your maximum attention if you are planning to work on your energies and vibrations. You have a reason to eat healthy now. 

2. Meditate 

Another higher vibrations inducing activity is meditation. Proven as one of the most effective tools to keep you grounded and in touch with your reality, meditation is something that everyone should indulge in.

Early morning meditation and bedtime meditation are the most effective ways to shift your vibration and keep negative emotions away.

We know for the fact that happiness and pleasure are linked to some neurotransmitters such as endorphins, dopamine, serotonin, and oxytocin. It is scientifically proven that meditation triggers the brain to release these neurotransmitters. 

Many people complain that they don’t get time to meditate but taking out 5 minutes of your busy schedule for something that is only going to make your life productive and fill you up with positive thoughts, is worth an effort. 

3. Do physical activity 

People often suggest you hit the gym when you complain of anxiety and depression. While we are in the state of pain and misery, we don’t like to entertain the suggestions that seem shallow to us but in reality, these suggestions are indeed the opposite of shallow.

They are helpful and stimulating. It shifts your vibrations and increases your vibration. Activities such as running, yoga, gymming, Zumba, etc ensure that your mental health remains good.

Doing all these activities trigger your hormones and neurotransmitters, which in turn, gives you energetic frequency. It is always a healthy choice to take out time for such healthy activities to make your life its best version.

4. Reduce the usage of internet 

In this era of technology and social media, it seems almost impossible to cut down the usage of social media but one must understand that disconnecting from the matrix once in a while, can save you from a lot of negative thoughts and low-frequency emotions.

We live in times when we feel it is an absolute necessity to check our social media feeds after waking up and before going to bed. However, studies have proved again and again that doing so creates anxiety and depression.

Seeing other people’s lives creates jealousy, hate, and anger. To not feel a low vibration level, you must unplug yourself from the Internet and live some mindful moments. You can make it a rule to not touch your phone every few minutes.

You can also mindfully choose not to use your phone right after waking and before going to bed. 

5. Bathing 

It may be a little difficult for you to believe that a simple and regular activity such as bathing can change your state of mind and increase your vibrations, in addition to making your body feel fresh. The idea is to use perfect essential oils, fragrances, salt, and organic body wash.

The whole process detoxifies your energy fields and helps you align your chakras. In Native America, smudging with cedar, sage, and lavender is considered to be the best energy cleanser. You can smudge your surroundings, objects and yourself to raise your vibrations.

6. Spend time with high vibration people 

It is highly common for people to feel depressed or burdened but not knowing the reason behind it. It is possible that your surroundings are vibrating at low speed. To feel elated and positive, it is necessary to have a surrounding that is uplifting and positive.

You must be mindful of your friend circle and observe the pattern. You must consider how you feel when you are around your so-called friends. Ask yourself if you like yourself when you are around these people. Do you feel motivated and happy around your close friends?

Do they inspire you to do better in life and appreciate you for the good things that you do? If you have friends who let you down, it is time to maintain some distance. Pay attention. 

7. Spend some time in the surroundings of nature 

Mother Nature is uplifting. No matter what you are going through in life, if you spend time around the beauty of nature, you are bound to feel elated and happy. The green color will surely increase your vibration and shift your vibration level. It also helps you declutter yourself and your life.

This is the reason why when you sit on a top of a hill overlooking the entire city, you feel rejuvenated and calm. After spending some time with nature, you can almost hit a restart button, get clarity and start all over again. 

8. Listen to music that is vibrating higher 

Music is an integral part of everyone’s life. We all spend hours listening to music in our house, car, and workplace. By being mindful, we can convert this everyday practice into high vibe activity. All you have to do is just listen to music that is vibrating higher.

Music has vibrating energies and you can check at what speed each song is vibrating at. Consider music as something that you consume and just like food, you can’t consume anything that makes you feel depleted. Make sure the lyrics of a song are not making you feel sad or disappointed. 

9. Be giving and loving 

There is no greater joy than loving someone with all your heart and giving without expecting anything in return. Law of attraction teaches us that if we are loving and giving then we are likely to receive the same energy from people. However, make sure you don’t do things to accept anything in return.

Let this be a natural process. Loving someone with all your heart fills you up with all the goodness of the world including hope. It is a highly stimulating activity that can raise your vibrations manifold. 

10. Show gratitude 

Spiritual gurus, time and again, have suggested practicing gratitude every day to enhance the quality of our life. All you have to do is take out 5 minutes every day to be thankful for all the great things in your life.

You should not forget the value of the smallest of things in your life. Showing gratitude is the same as inviting good things in abundance in your life. You can always find things that you are grateful for such as your parents’ love, weather, clear sky, etc.

You can notice that when you are feeling gratitude, you can’t feel any other negative emotions such as anger or hate. So, make sure you show gratitude to increase your vibrations and positive energy.

11. Accept and forgive 

It gives you immense satisfaction and peace when you begin to accept people and situations for what they are. There is no denying that sometimes it gets really difficult to make peace with your circumstances but with practice, you can learn to forgive yourself and others.

Sometimes, what weights you down is your own expectations from yourself or from others. When you begin to accept people as they are and forgive them for the mistakes they commit, you make it easy for yourself.

Emotions such as blame, revenge, disappointment, etc are low vibrating emotions and you don’t want to indulge yourself in them. To amp up your vibrations, accept and forgive. 

NOTE

If you can start implementing all these techniques in your life, you can begin to live your best life.

12. Be Mindful of Your Thoughts

Our thoughts design our lives. And this is why it is important to pay attention to it. However, our minds always roam from positive thoughts to negative thoughts. Thus, our focus should be on creating a balance. You don’t need to force positive thoughts in your mind nor need to repel negativity. Simply, have a neutral pose. 

For this, just sit down with a calm mind and try to pay attention to how your thought process works. Is it going towards negativity? Are you trying to make it positive? Whatever it is, your mindfulness will bring a balance to make it rhythmic with your vibrations. And by and by, this will help in raising your vibration.

13. Appreciate Your Life

As per the law of attraction, what you think you become. And this makes a lot of sense in concern with our vibrational energies too. In other words, if we focus our senses or energies towards the goodness or positivity around us, the cosmos will replicate it in our lives. Thus, it is very important to shift your energy access to positivity. 

In real life, you can take it as the choices you make. Like, instead of cursing your life, continuously nagging, or finding faults, it is better to appreciate what you have got. So, have you had a delicious meal? A cozy home or a loving partner? Well, anything and everything that makes things better including your whole life – appreciate it as bliss!

14. Drink a Lot of Water

Water helps our body in getting rid of toxins. And this directly boosts the vibrational levels to make it of higher frequency and starts positive processes in the body. Thus, drinking a lot of water makes sense in this regard.

Also, science favors the point that staying hydrated makes us more energetic, active, and healthy overall. So, it is an easy way to raise your vibration. 

Now, although drinking water is quite beneficial for you, don’t overdo it. By this, experts mean that one should listen to the body’s demands.

So if you are feeling that you are already hydrated or you’ve got enough water and aren’t thirsty, there is more harm than good in forcibly drinking more water. Also, make sure the water you are drinking is clean and pure.

15. Cut on Addictive Substances

Whatever substance we intake has its own positive or negative effects on our bodies. And any kind of addictive substance, be it alcohol, drugs, tobacco, weed, etc. may cause an ebb to our inner vibrations.

Thus, to maintain positive energy, it is suggestible to avoid any kind of addiction. Although you can have it for medicinal purposes if needed, still it is preferable to keep it low and cut on the high doses or consumption. 

Hence, if you are highly addicted to something, it is best to go for therapy or professional help to get rid of it as soon as possible. You can do it by yourself with dedication and positivity.

And don’t pick it again anyway. Remember – your inner strength should guide your life, not the negative peer pressure. 

16. Have Compassion

For raising your vibration, one of the most important things to embrace is kindness. Love and compassion are the emotions that make us human. Of course, these are the crux of emotional wellbeing and mental health. However, compassion can play a vital role in raising your vibrations too.

Positive emotions like compassion, empathy, love, etc. bring a sense of positivity and calmness to our inner selves. And this positivity helps in raising the vibrations of the body.

So be kind and compassionate to everyone. This will help you to raise your energy and to feel inner calmness. At the same time, don’t forget to include yourself in your range of compassion. You deserve your compassion before anyone else. Thus, a step towards mindful self-compassion is also needed. 

17. Consume Positive Media

In this era of social media, everything seems overwhelming. There is a constant sense of show off, comparison, guilt, and jealousy hovered over the virtual world. This is why experts suggest being mindful in choosing what media to consume. This includes everything from books, songs, movies, to news, social media posts, blogs, etc. 

Thus, start cutting the toxic media around you. For this, ask yourself – is this media making me feel negative, gloomy, jealous, or any such kind? If the answer is yes, leave it immediately. Instead, go for positive, growing, empathetic media that makes you feel good and eventually raises your vibration. 

18. Surround Yourself with Aesthetics

Beautiful, calming, and pleasing things fill us with a sense of positivity. And this helps in raising our vibrational levels too. This is why many mental health coaches advise being in a positive surrounding. So, when you are ready to shift your energy from negativity to positivity, it is great to do it better with this little step. 

Indeed you can simply choose to keep more positive colors, signs, symbols, patterns, pictures, artifacts, etc. around you. Be it a little keychain to the curtains of your home, or your working desk at the office, etc. try to make it more visually pleasing and aesthetic.

However, this does not mean being gaudy or being too materialistic. Instead, it’s just about playing with little things, adding a special touch to make it simple yet aesthetic. 

19. Make High-Vibrational Relationships 

The kind of people you stay with makes a great impact on your vibration level. Being in good relationships or with people who emit a sense of trust, calmness and positivity attract positive vibrations in your life.

Good relationships bring little changes in your thought process too bringing unconditional loving behavior, kindness, warmth, etc. in your nature. These raise your vibrational frequency and start the cycle of receiving more joy, love, and miracles in your life.     

Thus, take a move to deepen your connection with positive people. Tell them how they matter in your life, give them some time, share your joy with them. And eventually, these beautiful bonds will help you in raising your vibrations too. 

20. Be Conscious of Your Environment

Have you ever had a sudden negative feeling or felt a kind of uneasy sensation lingering at a place? On the other hand, there are some places which bring us a kind of inner joy and calmness.

This is because every environment has its own positive or negative vibrations. So when you enter a place with low vibrational levels, you generally experience negative thoughts surging around. The same is the case in a positive environment.

Thus, it is important to manage your vibrational levels according to the environment you are in. For this, the gospel is to be conscious.

For instance, if you are in the company of some toxic people, being conscious of this will help you in understanding your environment and maintaining your pose so that it doesn’t harm you. Similarly, being conscious of your positive environment will help you in raising your vibrations.

21. Listen to Your Inner Child

In the race of life, we often get so indulged in everything that we forget to listen to our inner children. Ask yourself – when was the last time you did what you wanted without having a second thought or guilt trap? Yes, this includes those simple little things like eating candies, enjoying the rain, dancing insanely, and so on. 

The point is – your inner child knows better about the secrets of the cosmos than the grown-up you. Don’t agree? Well, look at children. They always have a sense of natural positivity. Of course, this means higher vibrational levels.

Indeed, the thing you can do to raise your vibrations is to be a child again. So, try to be more free, natural, avoid overthinking, and embrace positivity. Yes, it won’t happen in a moment. But it will. After all, it’s all about trusting and developing by and by. 

22. Have Self-Love & Care

As already said, love is something that can change everything for good. And we often try to embrace it well. But the biggest pitfall is when we restrict this love and care for others only. In trying to be the so-called strong you, don’t be the harsh one. Embrace your delicate emotions, fear, needs, everything. And with equal love and care as you would do for your dear one. 

This simple step of self-love brings positivity to life. This helps to raise the energy frequency to vibrate at a higher level. So, whenever you feel upset or like a failure, be your helping hand. Do what you love, eat something delicious, have a soothing massage,… after all you deserve it too!

23. Go for Clarity

Thoughts and words pave the way for one’s life perspective. Like, when you are quite entangled in this and that in your thoughts, your life seems equally cluttered and tiring. On the other hand, when you are calm and clear, everything seems smooth and perfect.

Why does this happen? Because your thoughts affect your vibrational levels. And this is why it is important to adopt clarity of thought process to raise your vibrations.

For this, you can begin with small steps towards clarity. To begin with, set an intention to declutter your thoughts from time to time.

You can do this by scheduling an inner cleaning time each day. Like, at bedtime, before sleeping just have a quick recap of what ‘valuable’ you did today. Next, decide what important thing you want to do tomorrow. That’s all. You’ll see the difference yourself. 

24. Practice a Morning Ritual

The first thing we do in the morning has a strong connection with our vibrational levels. And holistic practices and morning rituals can play a vital role in raising our vibrational levels to high frequencies.

This is why spiritual gurus and holistic coaches focus on cultivating practices and habits like morning rituals. Such practices give a positive start to the day, energize the body, and activate the mind. 

Morning rituals can be anything like yoga, meditation, praying, sun gazing, etc. It doesn’t need to be a religious practice or otherwise. Just remember that it should make you feel good and positive. So, go for something based on your inclinations. And try to embrace it as a positive morning habit. 

25. Keep a Journal

You must have heard from time to time about the pros of writing a diary or a journal. However, the point that it can help you to raise your vibration might be something new for you.

While writing a journal, the process is to be mindful of yourself and to consciously think about it to record it well. In this way, you go through your inner emotions, turmoil, etc., and release any kind of toxicity disturbing you. Thus, the whole process works as a kind of wellbeing practice. And it can help in raising your vibrations too. 

Hence, set a time to journal writing. Spend time to reflect on your thoughts, feelings, and write down whatever comes to your mind. It should be natural. And as an extra plus, you can read it for motivation when feeling down. 

26. Expand Your Creative Wings

Creativity works as a crux of self-exploration and personal development. Besides, it can help in raising your vibrations too.

Engaging in anything creative makes you happier and fills you with positivity. And this positivity can, at the same time, help in raising your vibration levels. Thus, creativity is something that should have a special corner in your life. And it can be anything. 

For instance, if you are into painting, art, or calligraphy, it’s great to pursue it. If you are more into dance, creative writing, or music – it’s great too. The point is about indulging in something that you heartily enjoy.

Also, it is crucial to keep it natural. That is, do not force yourself to pursue it. Rather keep it as a hobby or something that you do when you need quality self-time. 

27. Look for Beauty

Our world is filled with so much beauty. A delicate bright blooming flower,  a laughing child, the morning sun, and the starry sky… Well, there is so much to look for in life. At the same time, these little glimpses of beauty fill us with peace.

This can help us in vibrating to the higher levels too. Thus, look for the beauty around you and make a move in making the world more beautiful.

You can do this in some simple ways. Like, make a stranger happy by helping or complimenting him/her.

These small efforts in your day to day life, done without expecting anything in return, can give you true joy and peace. Of course, this will raise your vibrations too.

29. Laugh Your Heart Out

The energy vibrational levels of a person depend a lot upon how the body feels at the time. In other words, when you are physically free, comfortable, and in a good mood, your energy vibration levels are naturally towards the higher side.

So, it is advisable to adopt simple yet effective ways like laughing to lift your mood and to raise your vibration level. 

Thus, to access a higher frequency level, make a point to laugh. But how? Well, you don’t have to overthink. Simply, don’t bind yourself. Be it a silly meme, a casual banter, an insane party, enjoy every moment. And in that way, laugh naturally. This will create a positive aura around you.

Hence, not only yours but the vibration level of others around you will also raise.

30. Stretch & State Out Loud

Feeling gloomy, upset, or in low vibrating states? The best way to instantly activate or energize yourself is to stretch your body. As already said, physical activities can be quite helpful in raising the vibration levels. Besides, you don’t need to be a gymnast or something to do this. Simply move your body to stretch it or pandiculate when feeling low. And this works. 

Also, there’s another way to raise your vibrations instantly. It is – saying out loud. Like, after getting up in the morning if you are feeling tired or low, simply say something positive loudly.

It can be something as simple as – ‘This is a beautiful day’, or ‘I’m feeling great!’. By saying these, you give your mind the hints that everything is good. This creates a positive impact on your mind and eventually helps in raising your vibrations.

31. Smudge Your Space

Vibrational energy has a direct relation to the living space of a person. Since most of the time spent in a day is in this space, it is important to make it more positive. And the easiest way to do this is to smudge the space.

Smudging the space is a holistic way to get rid of any kind of negativity in the place or to raise its vibration levels. It is a common practice in many cultures too. 

For this, one has to clean the house from an energetic perspective. This can be done by burning certain herbs and letting their smoke float in the space.

The herbs with certain medicinal properties not only works as a disinfectant but also helps in raising the overall vibration of the space. Just make sure to smudge space in the right way. 

32. Say NO to Negativity

Raising one’s vibration levels is directly connected to getting rid of any kind of negativity. This includes negative people, negative emotions, wrong practices, and so on.

Thus, your focus should be on raising your energies to a higher level saying no to anything negative. You can do this quite easily. Simply, stay in touch with the right people, indulge in positive activities, and feel good about yourself.  

And make a thumb rule to avoid anything that brings negativity to you. You can identify the situation for this. If feeling overwhelmed, nervous, anxious, burdened or anything like this, it means that something is wrong.

Identify the source of such negative emotions and try to solve it as soon as possible. This is crucial to maintain your sanity and high vibration levels.

Now, you are aware of how to raise your vibrations. So it’s time to understand –

What Happens When You Raise Your Vibration?

Our energy vibrations are scientifically proven to affect various processes and aspects of our lives. Some of the things that happen when you raise your vibration are –

Being at a high vibe helps to synchronize the energy flows of the body.

This helps in having a more peaceful state of mind. Also, it positively affects our body and nervous system.   

It creates a balance of energy in the body. In other words, there is no such positive or negative energy. It’s all about the vibration level of the pure energy that a lot of people count. So, higher vibrational energy gives us positivity. 

Along with worldly things, this eventually helps in one’s spiritual path too.

Thus, raising your vibration can play a crucial role in molding other components of your life. So, let’s answer some FAQs related to it and see how you can raise your vibrations in certain daily life situations –

How to Raise Your Vibration when Depressed?

Feeling bad, lost, or, blank in the chaos of life is something obvious. Yes, everyone encounters a low point in life at one time or the other. However, it is important to accept the situation and rise above it. In leading a positive life high vibration levels are important. Thus, here are the things you can do when you feel bad or face low mental health –

Take a bath with salt and essential oils, change your clothes, and try to energize your body.

Meditate or indulge in any mindful activity.

Think about high vibrational emotions like compassion, empathy, happiness, peace, joy, etc. Reflect on those memories connecting to it.

The food you eat also impacts your vibrations. Thus, try to eat healthy, fresh, and veg, if possible. 

Talk to high vibration positive people. Ones who are dear to you.

How to Raise Your Vibrational Frequency?

We have already discussed the ways to raise the energetic frequency. However, if you are looking for some actionable steps to move to the high frequency that you can implement now, here is the way advised by the experts in the field –

Pause and look into yourself. What are the sounds you can hear? The slight tick-tocks sound of the clock, a bird’s chirping, a kid saying something far away, a horn of a car, foot-steps going here and there… whatever it is.

Can you smell something? A flower, soil, perfume, or food? What are the things you can see around you? Just answer these. And understand the moment you are living in. This is the process of being mindful. Practicing this state of consciousness will raise your vibrations.

How to Raise Your Spiritual Vibration?

Being in the state of spiritual enlightenment is the highest vibrating state. One can develop his spiritual skills to the extent of having some remarkable intuitive gifts like being able to hear to your inner self or to have a vision of what’s going to happen. Thus, here are the ways to raise your spiritual vibration –

Try ‘Chakra Healing’. It is the process of attaining a balance of the 7 chakras in the body that are placed on a longitudinal axis. 

Go for Vibrational Therapies like Reiki, Acupressure, Acupuncture, etc. You can take the help of an expert or try it yourself under the right guidance. Don’t try acupuncture yourself as a mistake can be harmful in the practice.

Recognize Your Energy Level from Time to Time. You can ask yourself – are you feeling calm and peaceful? Or else, are you in a disturbed state? And try to shift your vibrational energy to the high vibrational energy.

Raise Your Vibration Meditation

Meditation is one of the best ways to increase vibration frequency. Since it’s a very crucial practice, here are the steps to follow –

Sit down or lay down at a clean and calm place. Make sure that you are away from any kind of hindrance or disturbance.

Close your eyes gently.

Take deep breaths slowly. It should be in the process of – breath in and breathe out. 

Try to concentrate on the mindful activity of breathing. 

Be calm and simply focus on this. Avoid any other thoughts. However, you don’t have to force yourself. Let it be natural.

Also, you can check this video for a guided meditation to raise your vibration –

Use Music to Raise Your Vibration

Music is considered one of the best ways to calm down oneself. And with the help of the right kind of music, one can reach a higher vibrational state. Here is the way to use music to raise your vibrations –

Choose the right music. If it’s a song, it’s lyrics should be positive, uplifting, loving, and should make you feel peaceful or empowered.

Go for higher vibrational frequency music. 

Lastly, choose something with which you can connect yourself. Otherwise, it will be all too machinery.

Thus, listening to music that returns shifts your vibrations towards positivity. And doing it right will make a positive difference. You can also visit these videos for some high vibration music –

Raise Your Vibration Books

Books can be a great way to reach higher vibrations. Thus, it is advisable to read good books which make you feel more peaceful and happy. 

At the same time, you can try some self-help books too. These can be empowering and guide you to raise your vibration. Here are some books you can refer to –  

1. ‘Raise your vibration: 111 Practices to increase your spiritual connection’ – Kyle Gray in which Kyle unveils the 111 essential practices. The book gives an idea about vibration and Kyle teaches some simple ways like to eat high vibration food, meditation, etc. In the book Kyle explains the whole process of vibration in an effective way. 

2. A practical guide to vibrational medicine’ – Richard Gerber, M.D. Here, Gerber has explained the relation of energy fields to the human body and emotions.

3. ‘Power vs Force’ – David R. Hawkins, M.D., Ph.D. The book talks about various stages of human vibrations and the ways to raise your vibration. This is considered to be one of the best books in the niche.

4. ‘The Intuition Principle’ – Angela Artemis. The book discusses the path to find the true purpose of life with the help of high vibrations.

5. ‘The seat of the soul’ – Gary Zukav. In the book, Zukav discusses the life transformation practices and the sole purpose of life. It deals with the spiritual awakening process and how people are scared to move on this path.

Raise Your Vibration Quotes

1. “Change the way you look at things and the things you look at change.”

― Wayne W. Dyer

2. “Sometimes in order to be happy in the present moment you have to be willing to give up all hope for a better past.” 

―Robert Holden

3. “You cannot perceive what you are not in the vibration of.”

– Darryl Anka

4. “How you vibrate is what the universe echoes back to you in every moment.”

– Panache

5. “Every human brain is both a broadcasting and receiving station for the vibration of thought.”

– Napoleon Hill

6. “One positive thought produces millions of positive vibrations.”

– John Coltrane

7. “Listening to your ego brings your vibration down; listening to your higher self brings your vibration up.”

― Caroline A. Shearer

8. “Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.”

―Rumi

9. “What I know is that if you do work that you love, and the work fulfills you, the rest will come.”

 ― Oprah Winfrey 

10. “Appreciation is the purest vibration that exists on the planet today.”

– Esther Hicks

Closing Thought

Personal development is a slow and steady process. You can’t accept bringing changes in one day but it is worth all efforts and time. A lot of people read and understand the value of high vibrations but don’t really implement the methods and techniques. It is really important to religiously follow a regime and then expect some results.

If you often feel bad and depressed, then it is a must for you to raise your vibrations and give your body some energetic frequency. Why would you want to live your life without utilizing your full potential? Isn’t that idea scary? Tap into your best mode by raising your vibrations.

Kirtika Surolia

Kirtika is a motivated soul, passionate about writing, speaking and creating. She has her hands in Literature, Psychology, Life Coaching, Spirituality, Wellness, Sciences and everything creative. As an entity of the vast Universe, she wants to expand her existence with self belief and self exploration. With TheMindFool, she wants to help others in finding their real self.

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I ACCEPT USE OF COOKIES

[anonil88]

“This isn't prison break.”parts 1 & 2

Rue runs away for a night from rehab with a bunch of people she doesn't know. They go to a club, do some stupid stuff and adopt a cat.

wrote this and put it on AO3- lnk here- but also updating on here:

PART 1

Rue laughs absently at the other group of "degenerates" as Ali would call them. They are walking along the side of the road towards wherever a kid named Malcolm was leading them. She technically was supposed to be in her small dorm bed asleep and awaiting 4 am check in. But instead here she was being a fellow degenerate who had technically escaped the rehab facility. They all intended on going back to the treatment facility eventually. She hopes Sol would even though it meant they probably would be separated. They all just needed a night of more because everyone was on edge and needed a break. Everyone was aware that the consequences would be getting kicked out or all restrictions taken away. But, fuck it.

Her group of acquaintances, because they were not her friends, was made up of a random assortment of folks. One of which was some guy named Graham who was apparently the older "brother" of Angel. Angel was the only one out of the group besides her roommate who actually knew more than whatever she half assed in group therapy. Which was very little but it was enough to keep them.... interested. Rue shoves her hands in the pockets of a pair of baggy shorts that Angel threw at her in a parking lot after everyone met back up. Their escape plan was a plan but they all booked it through a hole in the fence and through a patch of woods at first. Some person named Bones, who had to at least be a sophomore in college, picked them all up in a hatchback and the Graham who opened a backpack filled with vices.

Rue steered clear of the opiates and went straight for the bottle of Coconut Rum. Even though she could practically hear the pills singing her fucking name. Most of them actually opted to be clean of whatever landed them in rehab but not sober. Not everyone though because Angel was definitely rolling a tiny bit and so were two other people out of the 5 fence jumpers. Including her roommate Sol. Rue just figured the slap on the wrist once they got back would be less harsh without a positive test. The rum was more than enough to stay kind of alert amongst everyone here. All these faces that might leave her dying face down in a ditch if she OD’ed....again.

She wasn't even in here because of an overdose. Just a basic relapse that made her mom's mind up for her and now she was forced into a stupid facility with strangers. They forced her to talk, made sure she ate, but she honestly felt worse being inside than out. It was probably working the 12 steps and quiet therapy sessions but in places she didn't see yet. This right here though the warmth of the air touching her skin as the packed car they'd all tumbled into hurtled through empty streets. Leaning her head back she mumbles along the lyrics while Sol pulls at the worn shirt collar. 

 "Beep beep go swerving in my, Beep been you want me riding in your...."

Rue sighs feeling sticky lips press against her clavicle and up her neck.

 "Beep beep ghost busting in my,

 Beep beep you want me riding in your....driving super fast."

Sol was cool people but Rue knew it couldn't be anything more than fooling around. Kissing when no one was watching or either of them came back from a therapy session sobbing.  Sometimes Sol sneaking into her bed at night so they could have quickie sex sessions. This wasn't how Rue expected to explore her sexuality that was pretty dormant but it was what she had. It also wasn't with who she had in mind either. Lingering feelings aside the two of them were stuck in a juvenile inpatient program. With the same beds as the ones in college pamphlets, a no shoelace rule, and  fuzzy socks ( that Rue secretly loves). This girl was like 3 inches shorter than Rue, dark skinned, neck tattoos and a short cut. Sol had been through so much more shit than Rue and it made her feel ungrateful. Ungrateful because at least she had a hard working mom who still loved her and hadn't abandoned all hope. Other people in the program who took it seriously though told her not to because her life sucked too.

Feeling Sol's lips on hers she kissed her back. She didn't feel anything but it must have felt amazing to Sol who deepened the kiss. The car swerved past what in Rue's mind had to be a pothole. Sol falls away further into her body clutching the fabric of her shirt and accidentally her chest. Rue hears Sol sigh and snaps her eyes open while Sol still kisses her. Rue grabs hold of the handle above the door and sits back up mumbling, what was that. She watches Sol roll her eyes and sit back into the tan seats.

"Oh FUCK," Bones yelled slowing the car down and pulling over. Bones had their black hair slicked all the way back and a cigarette falling out of their mouth. They were odd enough sober and everyone's dd, just a ball of chaotic a.d.d they'd laughed at her earlier as they walked her from the gas station bathroom back to the car. It was a nice gesture because apparently she seemed "kind of uncomfortable," which was true. The urge to escape herself dulled the fear of her mother's true unbridled anger. Or Fez's.

He was really upset when he found out she got a new plug after actually being clean for so long. She turns to look out the back window and sees two green eyes attached to a small grey mound in the road. 

"What the....omg a cat omg," Angel is practically bouncing out of the car after pulling out a half eaten filet o fish. Rue watches him in an outfit she felt fit him so much more than the basic t-shirt and sweatpants he wore everyday. His platform sneakers lit up across the black asphalt as he inches  closer to the obviously terrified animal. A glitter covered arm wove in front of him with food and Rue leans into the window in anticipation. The only thing that could make Angel seem even more angelic was wings or a halo above his half platinum half silver hair. He honestly seemed like the type to fit right into Jules's friend group. But instead he was the kind creative rave kid who drew her pictures of kandy he'd give her one day. 

"Hey um...you ," she feels her shoulder being tapped. "Put this in your lap."

PART 2

"Yes! I love this song," Bones yells back rolling down the windows. The cool autumn air filling the car and the smell of weed being blown out the window. 

Her heel is bouncing with a mix of anxiety and anticipation. With one more she could become triple A instead of alcoholics anonymous. She can feel a comfortable softness against her sole. It's from a piece of fabric she keeps stuffed in her sock. Her knee keeps bouncing in place with the sleeping kitten being stroked by Sol in her lap. Her current reality is so much more serene than the one she relives in her head.

Arrival nurses took her hoodie at this new place only letting it stay with her the first night. She was so fucking high on check in that she screamed please don't take my dad please as they explained it to her mom. Her mom who she clung to like they were about to skin her alive. Chest rising and falling quick enough someone said something about a shot. Too high to be cold and distant but not enough for her heart to stop. Just enough to be a paranoid fuck up. Leslie tried to calm her down but it only worked after her mom bargained with them, one night.

One night and then her mom visited the next day to say goodbye. Slipping a gray square in her pocket. It was worn in from a t-shirt that her dad wore in her baby pictures. Leslie hugged her so tight before leaving whispering we love you so much. That was the last time she'd seen her mom and every time she called Leslie said oh rue like her heart was breaking again. So those phone calls were short because her mom crying always fucks her up mentally for a few days. The silent pauses remind her of the little sister who always has faith in her but is turning into someone who doesn't even look at her. 

"You okay," Sol whispers and rue nods because when was she ever. Her arm that sol is resting on is cramping but she lets it, not much arm space in this back row anyway. She should have just chosen the trunk with some 16 year old named Zach. 

"On the left yesss we made it and on time too," Graham jeers next to Sol.

 Rue looks at the dash clock crinoline her brow. "How is almost 1 am on time," she whispers. 

Sol chuckles, "It is a club not a house party you knew that right ?" Rue bites the inside of her lip and shakes her head no. Sol puckers a bottom lip and kisses her cheek. Great pity Rue thinks. Sol leans in to whisper to Rue, "Don't worry Graham knows the bouncer. No fakes required."

Rue opens back up the glass bottle in the seat net and lets the clear liquid burn her throat a bit. Out of her realm was an understatement, house parties were something she was used to but never clubs. She didn't even know what kind of club this was but judging from the giant rainbow flag out front, angry repressed frat bros wouldn't be an issue. Which helped the nerves in her stomach unwind. The fur ball on her lap made a noise and she rubbed it through the sweater it's been laid on. Sol said the kitten was probably dumped because there was a tag scar and the kitten was super clean. But was she risking it....no.

Sol takes the bottle from her hand and screws the cap back on. "You gonna dance with me tonight Benny." Sol says as she nudges her shoulder.

"Maybe," Rue shrugs.

" Okay well how about anyone else," Sol grins coyly.

Rue looks away from her and out the window. She's more interested in the brick building as they get closer than someone's hot sweaty body. There's a line to the door with several guards standing with gloved hands and flashlights. " Idk maybe," Rue looks back at Sol who is rolling her eyes. 

" Yes she is," Angel yells from the passenger seat. He's checking his makeup in the mirror and winks at rue. Which makes her tuck her hair behind her ear and cough to cover the blush. Angel turns around happily and says, "meee.'

Leaning forward Sol pecks Angel and says, " Bennett your goal tonight is to have fun, dance with someone. He, she, they, who cares, maybe you'll get a lil prison pen pal."

Rue rolls her eyes, that probably wasn't happening but it was about trying new experiences. Treatment was also not prison; it just was not freedom either. Bones pulls past the entrance and swings into the parking lot. Graham is behind them pointing as they follow directions. He's even saying fun facts like this is Knott's which Angel keeps mimicking. Bones slowly moves the car  until  one guard leans his hand in the window. The guard daps Graham up and they laugh for a second. His name is apparently DJ and he's their in. The only rules are no weapons. 

In the parking lot they all get put and Rue notices other cars with clusters of people around them. She shakes her lap free of cigarette ash and cat hair. The cat now named sparkle is being in the trunk with a makeshift bed, a small can of tuna Bones just had and an old bottle lid filled with water. Rue leans down and ties the mismatched dollar store laces on her chucks. They had hot dogs on them which was kind of cute. A tire squeals close by of a car obviously moving way too fast and drunk singing out a window speeds past them. Idiots. Everyone else was finishing a shared bottle or blunt. Leaning against the side of the trunk she feels Sol rest against her arm warming it up.

Rue can hear a steady thump and beat coming from the brick building. It makes her head move which means the music might not be her thing but it'll be tolerable. Graham even said there's another section with actual seats that has a more contained dance floor with pop and hip-hop. Just in case she got overwhelmed by the rave scene and the lights. She doubles over as she laughs at Angel's jokes. 

Kid was fucking hilarious, she stands up wiping her eyes and freezes looking in front of her.

[beyondconfessor]

The Infernal Contract [12/16]

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Lilith/Zelda Spellman

Summary: "And what does Faustus think of you?" she asked, snapping forward and grabbing Zelda's right wrist. "No, better yet, why don't you tell me what you think of him, of how high you must regard him to remove the very protection I provided."

N.B.: Also posted on AO3

Faustus delivered a modified version of his tenets, advising the school assembly with everything happening, a reversion to the traditional ways would be the only way to appease the Dark Lord.

It was a lie, but one Zelda wasn't above standing beside at this stage. There was little else she could do, and allowing some of his tenets to pass at least pacified Faustus for the moment, though they were like to stir complaints within the coven.

Witches were to pursue herbalism and other forms of healing magic before any extracurricular studies––warlocks, of course, could pursue whatever magic they desired. The other doctrines similarly followed, requesting witches to dress and act accordingly in the so-called image of Lilith, where warlocks should see their reflection in the Dark Lord.

Zelda's most considerable annoyance was that Faustus depiction of Lilith was of an otherwise helpless woman, capable of only the healing arts (as the Satanic Bible mentioned her magic explicitly only in service of Lucifer but failed to pick up the subtext between those moments). Intimately knowing the raw power that Lilith weld, especially with the higher forms of the Dark Arts, Zelda despised the comparison drawn of a woman who acutely mirrored the False God's Eve rather than that of a true Goddess capable of creating an exorcism that a witch could perform.

But Zelda knew when to bite her tongue. She had agreed to stand by and uphold the new doctrine fairly.

She may criticise it behind closed doors, maybe even lead her students to think about the Satanic Bible critically. Still, she would not openly defy the Anti-Pope. With everything going on, it would only create another problem, and she already had a few piling up.

As it was, those other problems were becoming the forefront thoughts in her mind, eclipsing that of the coven and the school. The prophecy was the most significant of her concerns, to the point she was now dreaming of reading the passage.

Zelda had gone over it a dozen times, each word to the context of each other. Prophecies were notoriously tricky. It was magic that stretched back to the early stages of most civilisations, and an imprecise one at that. Fortune-telling, tarot readings, prophecies, divination, even haruspicy were rarely used, given that their readings were often inaccurate and held a dozen vague meanings. It was why the tale of Oedipus was often a parable told to young witches who tried to peek into their future.

As it was, Mr Scratch had mentioned another prophecy in the Greendale Mines. It seemed a good idea to explore the prophecy from all angles, including one that used imagery instead of words, which was how Zelda ended up standing before the mines in the late hours of the evening, long after Faustus had retired to his room.

She stood before the mine shaft, listening as the wind howled through its tunnels. It had long been rumoured by mortals and witches alike that the mine shafts reached to the very gates of Hell. Standing here, Zelda could feel the magic crackle in the air, a magnetic draw pulling at her magic and knew why the witches had dug into the mines. It was almost like a siren song, singing out to her.

Lighting a cigarette, Zelda contemplated her strategy. She could try to summon the blasted prophecy, but it was likely that protective magic would envelop it. How the mortal children had found it, Zelda had no idea, but predictions had a way of hiding themselves until it was nearly too late to prevent it from occurring.

No, it seemed she would have to enter the mines—something she previously had no interest or plan in doing so before this evening.

"I wondered how long it would take you."

Zelda turned on her heel, looking to face Lilith. The woman stood on the outskirts of the trees, surrounded by shadows. It made the paleness of her face in the moonlight starker in contrast to her hair and clothes.

"What are you doing here?" Zelda asked, dropping her cigarette to the ground and snuffing it out before the woman had a chance to snatch it from her.

"The same thing you are, I imagine."

"I find it unlikely that we managed to cross paths here, of all places."

"Well, perhaps my arrival is not coincidental," Lilith admitted as she began walking towards her until they were side-by-side looking at the entrance to the mines. "You tripped my spell," she said and then pointed to a piece of silver string, and a bell that hung from a tree branch, likely set to summon Lilith should any person walk underneath. Though as Zelda squinted at the charm, she noticed that a single strand of hair had been tied to it, binding it to a specific person.

"Honestly," Zelda scoffed. "And just how did you know that I would come here?"

Lilith made a shrug, playing an attempt at innocence. "You mentioned another prophecy, so naturally I derived you'd eventually end up here."

"I certainly did not!"

"Oops. Then Sabrina must have mentioned it," Lilith said, her eyes flashing in mischievous amusement. Zelda looked away, glaring at the mines as she found herself regretting the fallen cigarette. She should have known that Sabrina would eventually make her way to her dearly favourite teacher and confess every secret.

Zelda would have done well to curse the memories of all the children, but it seemed that it was too late now. "Have you seen it?" she asked.

"I have. Would you like me to show you?"

Zelda wondered if there was any point. If Lilith had seen it, then there was little to be provided from herself viewing it. And yet, she knew it would haunt her if she refused. "I would."

"So be it," Lilith said before walking into the mines. She was enveloped by shadows, disappearing from all of Zelda's senses until a warm, golden light lit up the opening of the mines as she held up a lantern. Turning to face out of the mine-shaft, Lilith looked to Zelda and waited for her to follow.

"So be it," Zelda echoed. Exhaustion weighed on her shoulders as she slipped into the darkness of the mines.

There was a wet, damp smell to the tunnels and the only sound that filled the space was that of their heels clicking on the stone ground. Her shoes perhaps weren't the best footwear, but she had a steady-foot charm on all of her heels to prevent missteps (after all, a witch shouldn't stumble).

But the quiet was stifling. A considerable unease continued between them as Zelda wondered to their previous tryst and the way Lilith had looked at her when she held the book of prophecy.

Lilith had been furious, and then her eyes had looked to Zelda as if she'd discovered something quite fascinating. It weighed on Zelda's mind and sparked a strange yearning she couldn't allow herself to poke at (and yet did, like a child picking at a wound).

"Faustus has released a new set of tenets," she advised.

"Of course he has," Lilith responded. "And I take these tenets are to restrict the witches further from their ambitions to power?"

"Yes. With absolutely no consultation from the Dark Lord."

"Well, the Dark Lord is rather busy," Lilith said, there was a weariness to her voice as she said it, though there was a lazy attempted to mask it with irony.

"With Sabrina?" Zelda asked, but Lilith didn't respond.

No further words passed between them and Zelda wondered if the woman was deliberately trying to be dramatic with the silence, or if she genuinely had no biting comments to make.

Perhaps she was preparing them for some big reveal.

The tunnels twisted and sunk, and as they did, Zelda felt the pull of her magic, leading to her where she could only presume the Gates of Hell resided. Zelda's mother once spoke about how their grandmother had been digging through the hills with other local witches, seeking salvation in their Lord, until the Von Kunkle's had struck them down, causing the remaining coven to flee throughout the forest.

The mortals now owned the mines, but the magic sang out.

Lilith didn't lead her to where the magic pulled. Instead, she took a sharp turn down a shaft labelled marked with the number thirteen, and crept down a steady slope until they came to a crevice.

There she held up the lantern for Zelda to see.

"Here's your prophecy," Lilith said, with a nonchalant gesture. Zelda squinted in the dim light and looked over the artwork.

Wax candles stood scattered around the altar, their wicks snuffed, but Zelda knew they were not ordinary candles. With a snap of her fingers, the candles alit, casting warm light against the stonework (the flicker of power warming her as it did).

She looked over the artwork and felt her unease grow. From the immediate artwork, Zelda already knew it wasn't a happy prophecy.

She studied the iconography, glancing across the apparent symbolism. The picture of Sabrina was centred and definite with the crown of thorns, with little to doubt her likeness. The door represented Hell, the hanging tree representing Greendale, and as such the mortal realm. There were demons against either side, a corrupted version of cherubs, representing their guardianship of Sabrina and therefore her status as godhood (or at the very least Queen).

Zelda pulled back and crossed her arms. Likely the mosaic was not a separate prophecy, but a visual depiction of the footnote found by Mr Scratch. Which brought to question, why was the prediction a footnote?

"Someone wanted this hidden," she stated, glancing to Lilith.

"And someone wanted it found," Lilith responded. "I think we can both conclude as to who."

Zelda initial instinct was to raise suspicion against the woman herself, but it didn't marry up with her hesitation in the previous night. Lilith's fear and anger had been absolute before she attempted to conceal it with lust, and there was nothing to gain by her with Sabrina rising to the status of Queen.

Sabrina was to become something more significant, and this no less blindsided Lilith than any of them, it seemed.

Reaching out, she touched over the tiled pieces. There was a blue halo around Sabrina's head, the pigment created from crushed lapis lazuli.

"Mortals made this," Zelda said.

"What makes you think that?"

"A witch wouldn't have dyed and cut these tiles by hand," she touched over the jagged edges. There was frenzied energy to the creation as if it had compelled its artist to finish it. Drawing away, she pulled her hand back and dusted her fingers from the dirt that had accumulated over the stonework. It wasn't enchanted, but she could feel the compulsion coming from the prophecy. "And a witch would have made it much gaudier."

"I see," Lilith whispered, Zelda looked to her, catching the expression freezing as stared into the artwork, a frustration pressing in her brow before it smoothed to a neutral projection.

"What is it?" she asked.

Lilith turned and faced her, despite the composure, her eyes seemed alight with fury. "Why would a mortal depict a halo?"

"To represent holiness, her duality between mortal and..." Zelda trailed off, swallowing as she realised.

"And celestial," Lilith finished with a sharp, mirthless grin. "Perhaps the Dark Lord does not plan to marry her after all. Though I wouldn't put that past Him."

Zelda's heart sunk in her chest with the spoken revelation. Her niece, the girl she'd raised from a baby, was not her blood. "A Morningstar?" she whispered as if the Dark Lord might be in earshot (He might just be, she realised). "Surely not, she looked so much like Edward as a child."

"The Dark Lord has been known to possess men and enter their wives beds. Perhaps he obtained an offspring out of it this time."

Zelda shook her head, feeling her crossed arms tighten. Sabrina was a Spellman. She'd raised her from diapers to teens. Were she the Devil's daughter, there would have been some omen of it before her Dark Baptism, some great warning to Zelda.

Or perhaps she'd been blind to them all.

"What do we do?" Zelda asked, feeling the words slip out, a thousand smaller questions seemed to fill her mind, the fear of which beginning to grow massive and overwhelming in her head. Was she to tell Sabrina now? What did this mean for the Spellmans? Did she tell Ambrose and Hilda? Was the apocalypse to rise? Why hadn't Edward-

"What do you mean 'what do we do'? We follow the Dark Lord's plan," Lilith hissed. "If this is His will so be it."

Zelda shot her a look, watching the woman's facade splinter with her scrutiny. Lilith was as unsettled as she was. As fearful for what this meant for them both. "Is this what you want?"

Lilith hesitated, her eyes staring at the mosaic. "It doesn't matter what I want."

"Doesn't it?" Zelda asked. "Isn't this meant to be promised to you?"

"And what do you know of what was promised?" Lilith asked as she schooled her features, all doubts erasing from her face as if she was the very model of loyalty and devotion. "The Dark Lord grants us all that we deserve, and we are at His mercy for it. You'd be wise to heed to His will."

"Isn't Hell to be yours, since you left the Garden and found Him? Is that not what you were promised for servitude?" Zelda pushed and watched the carefully placed mask fracture further. Depths of desire sunk in Lilith's eyes, as if the very crown of Hell sat before her. "You know that this means He won't give it to you. He never planned to."

"And pray, tell how you could know of the Dark Lord's will? Of my relationship with Him?" Lilith inquired with a caustic tongue. "You're just some witch who's first marriage soured before she finished her vows."

Zelda flinched at the venom, and before she could think better of it, she was snarling back, "At least I got my crown, you'll only ever be a handmaiden to Him."

Lilith grinned at her, but there was no amusement in her eyes. Only a sharp coldness that reminded Zelda that she was not just speaking with any witch. "And what does Faustus think of you?" she asked, snapping forward and grabbing Zelda's right wrist. "No, better yet, why don't you tell me what you think of him, of how high you must regard him to remove the very protection I provided."

Zelda tried to tug her hand out of Lilith's grip, only to feel the grip tighten as she was pulled forward towards the woman, barely a breath away.

"It was stolen," Zelda hissed. "I wouldn't have––" but she stopped herself from admitting any further. She could feel her chest tightening, a fear that she said too much to the woman already.

A strange look passed over Lilith's face, a hunger as she touched over the bare finger. "Do you love him?"

"No, I don't love him."

"Do you wish he was me?"

Zelda pressed her lips shut, refusing to answer such a question (and admit the truth). But the answer must have been as apparent as the moon in a cloudless night because Lilith eyes filled with mirth and then laughter was rupturing from between the red lips. "Oh, I see."

"You certainly do not!" Zelda said, finally snapping her hand away before her heels caught against a loose stone and tripped her backwards. She hit the wall of the tunnel. Her head thudded against the rock, stunning her long enough for Lilith to press against her.

Hissing from the pain, Zelda pushed herself to stand taller and not allow the intimidation to affect her as she looked into the woman's eyes (appearing silver in the dim lighting) and felt her anger ease, waiting for the next moment. She wanted to slap her, push her away with the same overwhelming desire to kiss her and draw her close against herself.

Instead, she remained frozen in place.

"You desire me, Zelda Spellman. I think you might even care for me."

Zelda's body shivered at the way Lilith said her name, but the anger returned at the accurate presumptions placed forward. "You may think quite highly of yourself, but outside of our tryst, I barely think of you at all," she lied.

"Not at all?"

"Not the slightest," Zelda sneered, feeling the woman's hands slide over her waist and down her hips.

"Not even in the sleepless nights?" Lilith asked as she leant forward. "When you're biting your tongue to hold back your gasps, as you lie in the guest room of your own home?"

Zelda felt the lips graze close to hers, the hands gripping at her hips in anticipation. "Are you spying on me, Lilith?"

"No," Lilith said, "But you're adjurations have a way of finding me."  

"I have spoken of no such thing," Zelda hissed, and then the woman's lips had moved to her ear, and Lilith's body was pressing against her. She heard her draw a slow intake of breath, the fingers curling against the material of Zelda's clothes.

And then Lilith keened in her ear, as if on the very edge of arousal.

Zelda felt her body still; her eyes flutter shut as the moan had more of an effect on her than it should, causing a sudden heat to glow warm in her belly.

But the exhibition didn't cease there. Lilith's lips touched over cheek before she began to repeat verbatim the very abjurations Zelda had solely whispered to the shadows of her room, between her sheets.

A part of her had known that it might reach her ears. After all, their contract had begun with a wishfully spoken prayer. If she was honest with herself, perhaps she'd even hoped that they would.

And yet to hear them. Feel the words in the exhale of breath was an entirely different thing. Zelda felt herself swallow thickly, her own hands turning to fists at her side as she tried to prevent herself from grabbing at the woman.

Lilith's gasps were hot in her ear, the words broken-up by sharp pants and moans meant to imitate her own, but if Lilith intended to mock her, they had an adverse reaction.

As Zelda felt Lilith begin to hitch up her dress, she turned her head, having enough of the performance. She tilted forward and caught the woman's lips, enjoying how Lilith anticipated it, snagging her tongue between her teeth, before letting it go with a laugh.

There was a mania about it as if Lilith was unravelling before her, eager to distract and pretend that this was just another tryst as she slid Zelda's underwear down her thighs and kissed her again with feverish temperament. Zelda responded in kind because the world was going to end, but it hadn't yet, and this might be their last moment together before it all fell apart.

The truth was that Sabrina was to be snatched away, and they were to return to their respected men, loyal and obedient with these changes. They had lost everything they'd built and worked towards. More than that, a deeper part of Zelda reminded her that this would be the end of them both. Their relationship could not continue if the new world order occurred. Lilith was to be Lucifer's handmaiden, and Zelda was to be Faustus' wife. They would become ships in the night.

Zelda tugged at Lilith's dress, undoing the zipper and slipping it down the woman's body before she drew her close again.

Her skin was warm against her own. If she held her close enough, it felt like time would stretch. That there was no home to return to, no encroaching deadlines, no prophecies of Nephilim children.

There was only the here and now. Only Lilith.

And yet her heart felt like it was breaking.

It ached to know that everything that had seemed so close in grasp was now disappearing from her sights, that Faustus would rule with an iron fist, squeezing every witch of their free will as the Dark Lord turned a blind eye to mould Sabrina into his Queen.

The Spellman family would be burned, Leticia and Prudence would be used and discarded at will, and Judas would be shaped into the perfect son with no mind of his own.

Where was Lilith to go?

Lilith nipped at her throat, snapping her back into the moment. In the dimness of the mines, she could see the woman's glare, demanding her attention.

She kissed at the woman's shoulder, slipping her hand under the lace underwear and touching over Liliths slit as she was fucked in return. The sex was frenziedness, building in a desperate need to touch and be touched and forget everything else.

And with it, Zelda wondered if the Dark Lord touched Lilith with the intent to admire and worship, or if He just consumed until there was nothing of Lilith left but a hollow version of herself?

Was that her path too, with Faustus, to bend until she snapped?

Zelda felt her anger grow again, a fury building in her as Lilith's mouth kissed down her throat.

"It matters," Zelda told her. "It matters what you want."

Lilith paused, pulling away to look at her in the darkness. "Zelda-" she whispered, the name purring as a warning to remind her of just how close to Hell they were.

"It matters to me," she urged. "Lilith, please, whatever you think of this, of me and everything else. It matters. Whatever it is that you want, I swear it, I'll abide by your will, even if it's to strike––"

Lilith kissed her mouth, hard and bruising to silence her. If the Dark Lord heard her, understood what she was proposing, they would be eviscerated for their seditious remarks. Perhaps it had been foolish for her to say it, but she wanted (needed) Lilith to know that they were more than the roles they played.

Lilith's hand came to her throat, wrapping around it tight enough that Zelda could barely draw her breath as she felt the woman's mouth move away from hers.

Then, very quietly, Lilith whispered, "I don't want your obedience, Zelda. It would ruin you. Do you understand?"

The hand eased, and as Zelda drew in a breath, she asked, "And what of your ruination?"

Lilith smiled in the dark. "It happened long ago." Zelda went to argue, only for Lilith's fingers to touch against her lips. "Forget your words, and be mine for this moment. Then we can separate to our own lives."

Zelda swallowed, understanding the subtext. Despite how it ached in her chest, this was to be their last time together.

Lilith's hand slipped under her jaw and tilted her head as she pressed forward and kissed her again. It was sweet, gentle, and then it grew with a passion, not unlike that evening in the moonlight that seemed so long ago. A yearning build in her chest, and all Zelda wanted was Lilith.

Their moments together were ending, and Zelda wished she could translate the growing need inside of into words, but it was all she could to do to kiss and not drown in the woman's touch. As Lilith kissed her, Zelda followed, stroking over the woman's sex in an attempt to appease her. It wasn't obedience she offered but something else. Something sacrilegious.

It wasn't enough. Zelda pulled away and dropped to her knees, grabbing Lillith's hips and tugging her to her mouth as she tore the lace down her legs.

"Zelda," Lilith coaxed, fingers drawing through her hair. The way she said her name was like a sigh, summoning something from the recesses of Zelda's mind. She couldn't see her face in the darkness, but she could feel the woman's legs shake and ease underneath her hands. Feel her rock over her tongue, fingers curling into her hair.

And then, for the first time, Lilith stopped holding back her vocalisation. For the first time, her moans rose (slowly at first, and then loud and unrestrained), echoing through the tunnels of the mines as she repeated Zelda's name over and over.

Never had her name sounded so sweet on someone's tongue (and she'd heard it spoken by many lovers).

Zelda didn't know if it was a reward for what she said or a distraction from their seditions, but the way the woman's fingers curled in her hair, the way her body trembled unlike a performance and more like unbridled eagerness, felt primal. It made her magic spark and reach out, and made the night stretch for a little longer.

It felt...

Zelda felt the word hush quietly in her mind, feeling centuries of propriety and religious education warn her against the very idea of thinking it.

...but it felt sacred in the way the satanic magic didn't.

Holy.

And with her perdition in mind, she thought to herself that Lilith tasted divine.

[red-will]

I don't know what to do with good white people.

I've been surrounded by good white people my whole life. Good white people living in my neighborhood, who returned our dog when he got loose; good white teachers in elementary school who pushed books into my hands; good white professors at Stanford, a Bay Area bastion of goodwhiteness, who recommended me M.F.A. programs where I met good white writers, liberal enough for a Portlandia sketch.

I should be grateful for this. Who, in generations of my family, has ever been surrounded by so many good white people? My mother was born to sharecroppers in Louisiana; she used to measure her feet with a piece of string because they could not try on shoes in the store. She tells me of a white policeman who humiliated her mother by forcing her to empty her purse on the store counter just so he could watch her few coins spiral out.

Two summers ago, my mother showed me the welfare reports written about her family. The welfare officer, a white woman, observed my family with a careful, anthropological eye. She described the children, including my mother, as "nice and clean." She asked personal questions (did my grandmother have a boyfriend?) and wrote her findings in a detached tone. She wondered why my grandmother, an illiterate Black mother of nine living in the Jim Crow South, struggled to find a steady job. Maybe, she wrote in her loopy scrawl, my grandmother wasn't searching hard enough.

This faded report is the type of official document a historian might consult if he were re-constructing the story of my family. The author, this white welfare officer, writes as if she is an objective observer, but she tells a well-worn story of Black women who refuse to work and instead depend on welfare. Occasionally, her clinical tone breaks down. Once, she notes that my mother is pretty. She probably considered herself a good white person.

In the wake of the Darren Wilson non-indictment, I've only deleted one racist Facebook friend. This friend, as barely a friend as a high school classmate can be, re-posted a rant calling rioters niggers. (She was not a good white person.) Most of my white friends have responded to recent events with empathy or outrage. Some have joined protests. Others have posted Criming While White stories, a hashtag that has been criticized for detracting from Black voices. Look at me, the hashtag screams, I know that I am privileged. I am a good white person. Join me and remind others that you are a good white person too.

Over the past two weeks, I've seen good white people congratulate themselves for deleting racist friends or debating family members or performing small acts of kindness to Black people. Sometimes I think I'd prefer racist trolling to this grade of self-aggrandizement. A racist troll is easy to dismiss. He does not think decency is enough. Sometimes I think good white people expect to be rewarded for their decency. We are not like those other white people. See how enlightened and aware we are? See how we are good?

Over the past two weeks, I have fluctuated between anger and grief. I feel surrounded by Black death. What a privilege, to concern yourself with seeming good while the rest of us want to seem worthy of life.

When my father was a young man, he was arrested at gunpoint. He was a Deputy District Attorney at the time, driving home one night from bible study when LAPD pulled him over. A traffic violation, he'd thought, until officers swarmed his car with shotguns aimed at his head. The cops refused to look in his wallet at his badge. They cuffed him and threw him on the curb.

My father is mostly thankful that he'd stayed calm. In his shock, he had done nothing. That's what he believes saved his life.

I think about this while I watch Eric Garner die. For months, I avoided the video, until we arrived at another officer non-indictment. Now I've seen the video of Garner's death, as well as a second video I find even more disturbing. This second video, taken immediately after Garner has been killed by a banned chokehold, shows officers attempting to speak to him, asking him to respond to EMTs. They do not yet know that he is dead, and there's something about this moment, officers shuffling around as an EMT seeks a pulse, that is so bafflingly and frustratingly human, so different from the five officers lunging and wrangling Garner to the ground.

In the wake of this non-indictment, a surprising coalition of detractors has emerged. Not just black and brown students hitting the streets in protest but conservative stalwarts, like Bill O'Reilly or John Boehner, criticizing the lack of justice. Even George W. Bush weighed in, calling the grand jury's decision "sad." But even though many find Garner's death wrong, others refuse to believe that race played a role. His death was the result of overzealous policing, a series of bad individual choices. It would have happened to a white guy. The same way in Cleveland, a 12-year-old Black boy named Tamir Rice was killed by officers for playing with a toy gun. An unfortunate tragedy, but not racial. Any white kid playing with a realistic-looking toy gun would have been killed too.

Darren Wilson has been unrepentant about taking Mike Brown's life. He insists he could not have done anything differently. Daniel Pantaleo has offered condolences to the Garner family, admitting that he "feels very bad" about Garner's death.

"It is never my intention to harm anyone," he said.

I don't know which is worse, the unrepentant killer or the man who insists to the end that he meant well.

A year ago, outside the Orange County airport, a white woman cut in front of me at the luggage check. She had been standing next to me, and soon as the luggage handlers called next, she swooped up her things and went to the counter. She'd cut me because I was black. Or maybe because I was young. Maybe she was running late for her flight or maybe she was just rude. She would've cut me if I had been a white woman like her. She would've cut me if I had been anyone.

Of course, the woman ended up on my flight, and of course, she was seated right next to me. Before the flight took off, she turned to me and said, "I'm sorry if I cut you earlier. I didn't see you standing there."

I often hear good white people ask why people of color must make everything about race, as if we enjoy considering racism as a motivation. I wish I never had to cycle through these small interactions and wonder: Am I overthinking? Am I just being paranoid? It's exhausting.

"It was a lot simpler in the rural South," my mother tells me. "White people let you know right away where you stood."

The problem is that you can never know someone else's intentions. And sometimes I feel like I live in a world where I'm forced to parse through the intentions of people who have no interest in knowing mine. A grand jury believed that Darren Wilson was a good officer doing his job. This same grand jury believed than an eighteen-year-old kid in a monstrous rage charged into a hailstorm of bullets toward a cop's gun.

Wilson described Michael Brown as a black brute, a demon. No one questioned Michael Brown's intentions. A stereotype does not have complex, individual motivations. A stereotype, treated as such, can be forced into whatever action we expect.

I spent a four hour flight trying not to wonder about the white woman's intentions. But why would she think about mine? She didn't even see me.

In elementary school, my older sister came home one day crying. She had learned about the Ku Klux Klan in class that day and she was afraid that men in white hoods would attack us. My father told her there was nothing to worry about.

"If a Klansman sat at this table right now," he said, "I'd laugh right in his face."

My mother tells stories of Klansmen riding at night, of how her grandmother worried when the doctor's son—a white boy—visited her youngest sister because she feared the Klan would burn down their home. When I was a child, I only saw the Klan in made-for-TV civil rights movies or on theatrical episodes of Jerry Springer. My parents knew what we would later learn, that in the nineties, in our California home, surrounded by good white people, we had more to fear than racism that announces itself.

We all want to believe in progress, in history that marches forward in a neat line, in transcended differences and growing acceptance, in how good the good white people have become. So we expect racism to appear, cartoonishly evil like a Disney villain. As if a racist cop is one who wakes in the morning, twirling his mustache and rubbing his hands together as he plots how to destroy black lives.

I don't think Darren Wilson or Daniel Pantaleo set out to kill Black men. I'm sure the cops who arrested my father meant well. But what good are your good intentions if they kill us?

When my friends and I discuss people we dislike, we often end our conversations with, "But he means well."

We always land here, because we want to affirm ourselves as fair, non-judgmental people who examine a person not only by what he does but also by what he intends to. After all, aren't all of us standing in the gap between who we are and who we try to be? Isn't it human to allow those we dislike—even those who harm us—a residence in this space as well?

"You know what? He means well," we say. We lean on this, and the phrase is so condescending, so cloyingly sweet, so hollow, that I'd almost rather anyone say anything else about me than how awful I am despite how good I intend to be.

I think about this during a car ride last weekend with my dad, where he tells me what happened once the cops finally realized they had arrested the wrong man. They picked him up from the curb, brushed him off.

"Sorry, buddy," an officer said, unlocking his handcuffs.

They'd made an honest mistake. He'd fit the description. Well, of course he did. The description is always the same. The police escorted my father onto the road. My father, not yet my father, drove all the way home without remembering to turn his headlights on.

Brit Bennett recently earned her M.F.A. in creative writing at the the Helen Zell Writers' Program at the University of Michigan. She is currently a Zell Postgraduate Fellow, where she is working on her first novel.

[fortheloveofcringe]

June 19, 2020 12:12 a.m.

“Bazooka Gum”

 In  2011, Lady Gaga did an hour-long interview at Google. She was 24 at that time and was promoting Born This Way, her 2nd Studio LP, and discussed about her life as an artist as most of these interviews goes about. I’ve been a fan since I saw her bangs and beauty in Beautiful, Dirty, Rich, a promotional song for the TV series Dirty, Sexy, Money in 2009. Remembering so vividly I was up all night watching some comedy show, alone, and the commercial came along and I was intrigued and asked myself “why haven’t I heard this song before?”

“Who is Lady Gaga?” Never did I realize back then that she was gonna be my guardian angel. 

It’s 2020, and I’m in the darkness of our living room, watching the same interview. Things have change since 2009. I’ve recently been diagnosed with Major Depression Disorder, I almost died of dengue back in February, been taking anti-psychotics/depressants to remain socially functional, pummeling through the fists of poverty and social injustice while dealing with this historical animosity of a pandemic and most of all, I have more scars than the kid who was up all night singing “Poker Face” in his mom’s shoes.

 But the thing is I am not writing this in memory of the child Hambert. I am writing this to honor my journey with my mother monster, a journey that I am still in voyage at, now with the Chromatica chapter. You see, I have not “just danced” to her songs, I am molded into the man that I am today because of her music and creative display of humanity in the compact of her ever-changing canvass. I am not by any realistic stretch, a perfect squeaky-clean person, but I must say, I am more galvanized to my truth. But the question still hangs above every one’s head, what is a person’s “truth?”

 To answer such existential question, I will refer you back to my introduction with Gaga’s interview in 2011. At the last part of the conference, she mentioned the process of creating one of the scenes for the music video of the title track for her album and her collaboration with Rick Genest or Zombie Boy. She asked Rick as to why he tattooed himself that way to which he accordingly, responded “Bazooka Gum.”

 Not many would have understood what it meant, not even Gaga herself in the beginning of their conversation perhaps but her explanation as to why Zombie Boy is Zombie Boy, brought a thunder of nostalgia in my heart and mind. In my country, it might not be the same brand perhaps, but I remember I was a kid and I used to chew these bubble gum packs that had free sticker tattoos with it that you have to wet in order to apply the art to our skin. It was varied. I liked seeing my skin covered in Android 18 or perhaps a punk-rock style tattoo. To me, this was one of the simple joys of my childhood and to have the same shared experience despite not knowing who Rick Genest was as a kid brought me a sense of clarity as to how we figure out the truths in our lives. In my own twisted sense at least.

 Zombie Boy is tattooed that way because he knew what he loved as a child, irregardless of what society has placed upon the table of social beauty standards. He lived his truth by honoring what the child in him has to say, no matter how much he saw with what the world unfolded to him, as far as I understood. To me the moment when they we’re chewing gum in the music video made more sense as opposed to Gaga just being gaga and thinking she just wanted gum in the video for an effect but truly the meaning of such matters, no matter how small they are or probably insignificant to the universe, that is our truth. Our truth has been encoded to us since we were children, and we just manifest it in our adulthood in different forms. Some of us may deny it, but we are just children in adult costumes and slightly bigger bodies, and have more tendencies to mistrust and be carefree.

 I love how that little piece of information made me wrote this journal entry (this is Gaga’s effect to me, it’s some deep level shit) because truly, now, as I look back, I understand what kind of person I am as opposed to this claim that I have against myself that I am lost and hopeless. My compass is the child me and with it is the spirit of a musician who made this world a better place by being herself and she has been a friend when no one was really beside me.

 The truth of my childhood was I was a child comfortable with silence and solace. Who endlessly created things that pops into his mind without boundaries and he never ever truly cared about what the world wanted him to be. Hambert was a child that just wanted to swing his hips while he paints notebooks in crayon dreams. I know him and in my mind right now he is smiling back at me and I feel like I might cry any moment now.

 I feel like the answers to my truth, was hidden by the lies of anger and refusal to believe that I do not have to rely on what the world wants me to become. I know what I will become. That is my truth. I am the only one who truly knows it and can honor it; and this is the beauty of the Bazooka Gum. ONLY I, CAN DEFINE MY IDENTITY. ONLY I, CAN DEFINE MY TRUE VALUE.

I would like to take this space and write the truthfulness of my divine adoration for the woman who raised me beyond her knowledge who taught me to stand and be myself when I didn’t want to be me. Who taught me to dance through all the pain and remain true to my artistry even if the world would deny it.

Lady Gaga, an angel of the ethereal musical realm. I am freed because of you.

Thank you.

Love,

Hamby

[tragedybunny]

The Blade’s Edge - A League of Legends Fanfiction - Chapter 12

They had a simple arrangement. She was the weapon to be used on his enemies. Things get more complicated when emotions bleed into what should simple. Now the two of them find themselves on the precipice of something that was entirely unexpected.

Inara rolls her eyes. “If you’re done with your dramatic entrance, can we get started?” She gestures impatiently to the ponderous house below us. 

“My apologies, I must have mistook myself for the one in charge of this mission.” I give her a flat look and she finally cracks a smile as Lark sighs at us. “Don’t worry Lark, banter is over. You both know who we need to move on if this doesn’t go in our favor. Wait for me, we’ll move as one in that case. If I don’t come back at all, leave, pretend none of this ever happened.”

Inara gives me a dark look. “Should one of us let him know, in the case that you don’t come back?” 

It hadn’t crossed my mind that he would need to be informed if I should fail. Nothing that happened in the city seemed to escape his knowing. Yet suppose he didn’t know this time? Would he believe the worst of me, that I had betrayed him and vanished into the night? “Go to the servant’s door, ask for Gwen, my maid, she’ll see that he’s told.” 

“Your what now?” Oh, gods. At least that’s brought the mirth back to her expression. 

“What? Am I supposed to get into those fancy dresses all by myself?” I know she’ll laugh at that, I need to hear it just now. The weight of this moment is starting to settle onto me and I drag my hand through my hair.  “Come on, let’s get this over with.” 

“Of course, whatever you say...Madame Swain.” That even manages to draw a chuckle from Lark. It catches me off guard though and I feel a blush creep up my cheeks. I’m granted a reprieve as neither of them offer a comment on it. 

I ready myself at the edge of the roof. One well placed jump and I’ll be on the house below us. “See you on the other side.”

I take a few paces back and give myself a running start. I spring off the roof, for a moment it feels like flying, and the other roof rushes toward me. As I land, I roll, spreading the force and breaking my momentum. The darkened turrets make an ideal entry point. They, much like the House guards, belong to a bygone era, and many, like Jericho’s, ended up as neglected spaces. 

The archaic window gives way easily, admitting me into the blackness within. She should be just returning from the festivities at the arena, bloodshed for the masses, the condemned dying in the most spectacular fashion, and a lucky few winning pardons. Cobwebs and dust have gathered over crates and bits of furniture, as I suspected, it’s been abandoned to time. I put my foot out and test the spiral staircase that leads downward, it seems sturdy enough. I descend, stepping lightly to avoid the groaning of the ancient wood, passing the attic, and stopping at the next floor. I lean down to the keyhole, holding my breath, there’s every chance this door has been sealed over. Light shines through, one small victory. I put my ear to it and listen, there’s no noise emanating from the house beyond. I crack it ever so slightly, holding my breath as it creaks in the emptiness. No movement, no signs of life. Perfect, I slip out and shut it softly behind me. 

Voices begin the carry up from the stairs, she’s in the company of her guards, as expected. I only need to be patient for that to be remedied. I slip through the gaudily furnished hall in shadows, the Ingritts apparently have a deep need to display their wealth. I make for the master suite, another exercise in ostentatiousness, entering the bedchamber to lay in wait. 

She gives her final orders to the guards for the night before she enters, unaccompanied. Her back is to me as she shuts the door presenting me with a temptation to end her and avoid bothering with persuasion. But no, her support would be valuable. “Hello, Lara.” 

“So you’ve finally come.” She laughs. “Your whole absurd operation has become too easy to anticipate”

I feel a spark of anger, we’ve been exposed. I reach for my daggers, preparing for this talk to go very poorly. “Then you know what I’m here to offer.” 

  She turns toward me, confidence making her movements unhurried, her features imperious. “Join this ill-advised coup and hand the Guild over to the Usurper’s little pet? No, I don’t think I will. There’s a reason your father rejected you.” The chain whip coiled at her side suddenly sings through the air. I leap back, avoiding the sharp blade at the tip, drawing the daggers I had gripped. “You’re weak Katarina, you need to be led. With your father gone, you simply found someone else to do that.” 

She touches a deep well of rage that roils at her words, I feel something inside me snap. How many times will my past errors be weapons against me? How much more will I have to hear about my disgrace, my father’s disappointment?  There’s only been one person, despite his failings, who has seen more in me. “I’m taking the Guild, it belongs to me. If you choose to stand in my way then so be it.” I let a dagger fly in her direction, her chain whip flashing out to block it, predictable. I use the moment she’s committed herself to that action and I close the distance between us, coming to her side. 

She tries to change the momentum of her weapon, recovering faster than I anticipated. I leap back as she succeeds in bringing it back toward my direction. The blade catches me though, rending open the flesh of my thigh. Through the adrenaline, I can’t tell how deep it goes, but I feel the hot trickle of blood working its way down my leg. 

I draw another dagger and feint to my left, keeping my eyes locked on her weapon. Her hand makes the slightest movement, I wait. The whip begins to fly towards me, I dive to the other side, hurtling myself full speed at her. Her weapon, committed to where she thought I’d be, is useless to her. The blade in my hand tears into her throat, ripping it open. Blood erupts and she uselessly grasps at the wound. “Tell me again about my weakness, Lara.” 

Her hands still and her knees buckle. She gasps her last breaths as she collapses to the floor in a sanguine pool. I finally become aware of a stinging in my thigh and look down to find a wound several inches long. I withdraw a bandage from a pouch on my belt and staunch the flow of blood as much as possible, I don’t need to leave a trail. We’ll need to move on the others now before word of Lara’s death gets out. I push open one of the windows, gritting my teeth against its whine of protest, must everything in this house sound like it’s falling apart. I take a blind leap into the space between this house and the next, haste is more important now than secrecy, and sprint at full speed to the temple. 

Lark and Inara await me in silent anticipation. They know as soon as I appear that the recruitment wasn’t successful. “Our other three need to be done, now. We’ve been found out somehow, keep your wits about you and show no mercy.”

Inara shoots a glance at my leg, the blood now darkening the bandage. “Are you sure you can handle this?                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 

“I’m fine!” It comes out harsher than I expected. Her eyes widen, but she says nothing. “Fucking hell.” I tear off the reddened bandage and replace it quickly, tying it tighter than before, while giving orders. “Use our next agreed on rendezvous. Approach it cautiously, we don’t know who knows what.” I take a breath as I finish. The steady flow of blood is concerning, but I won’t let them see that. 

We scatter, each moving with lightning pace. It’s only a matter of time before the body is discovered and we lose the advantage of surprise. My last target tonight brings the saga of me, my family, and the Guild full circle. My father’s cousin, Marius, he’d taken primary leadership of the Guild when my father “disappeared”. He’d nearly begged me to assume a role by his side with Talon leaving on his doomed search.  It had nothing to do with familial loyalty though, I was the best chance he had to secure his position. I’d told him what I’d told Jericho initially about all this, and it had been the truth at the time, I wasn’t a leader. When I left home for Jericho’s he’d dared to come howling at the gate, demanding a word with his “dear cousin”. It was one of the rare times I was thankful for Moira’s bullheaded tendencies, demanding was not an attitude that would get you nowhere with her. Instead, he’d left me a letter filled with rage and curses. He even dared to guilt me about mother being all alone, I’d tossed it in the fire as soon as I read it. 

I never told her I was leaving, I just did, and let the gossip circles tell her where I was. It was satisfying to rip that control from her hands. She’d hated me for as long as I could remember. Her political scheming and maneuvering meant everything to her, and my birth went wrong, keeping her out of society for longer than it should have. At least that was the tale told to me by my nurse. Or maybe it was the whispers I heard when I was older that she never wanted children, but I was thrust on her by duty and expectation.  Either way, the result was the same and none of it mattered much now.

After the revels at the Arena, Marius would be in his favorite brothel, Father and I had collected him from there a number of times. The well-appointed mansion in Goldstone that looked so ordinary from the outside and yet within the upper class of the Capitol indulged their every fantasy. It had been built when Goldstone was established for that very purpose, rising as a hidden playground among the newly constructed buildings. This whole area had once been a slum that was razed by fire. The new money moved in after and made their own enclave in direct opposition to the nobles shuttered away in Old Town.  Of course, everyone knew that the fire was intentional, but for the poor who lived here, there had been no justice. With his endless wars needing endless resources, Darkwill was uninterested in the crimes of the rich. 

Tonight it works in my favor, the two districts being intentionally close, giving me not far to run. The gash in my thigh is a constant stinging and I feel the bandage growing moist again. The modern aesthetic had every building in Goldstone built to nearly the same height and I easily glide from rooftop to rooftop, closing the distance to my target. A figure looms before me, standing on a roof, still as a statue, clad in red, pale and unearthly. Him. I stop short, reaching for a dagger. “Far from home tonight, aren’t you little Kat?” His voice is haughty, yet rich and seductive at the same time. 

For a moment I wonder if he was the stalker, but no, that wouldn’t be his way. This fiend rarely deigns to involve himself. “What do you want?” The dagger slips from its sheath. 

He laughs, a cold and mirthless sound. “You would try to challenge me, you hopelessly fearless child. I’m only here with a warning, from her.” She must be desperate to impress me if she convinced him to act as a messenger. “There is no going back from what you plan to do. So far you have been considered merely a pawn in this game, but this will change your standing, make you a target. Turn back, return to your family. You would not need to fear vengeance from him, the Black Rose will protect you.”

I roll my eyes at his words.“Like they protected Cass and my father? I’m through with others deciding my fate.”

“Yet you do this all for the man who made you a pawn in the first place, his personal weapon. In the Black Rose, you could command a greater destiny.” He holds out a hand, the invitation awaiting my response. 

I’m out of time for this. I know what loyalty to them means and I’ve had enough of it in my life. “Fight me or let me pass, either way, shut up.” 

He sighs in an intentionally dramatic manner. “As you wish.” Then he bows gracefully and takes a step back off the edge of the roof, vanishing into the night. Fantastic, another vague happening to worry about. We’ll have to figure out what his appearance portents later. 

With the way clear, I fly across the last few buildings, making a clean leap to the roof of the brothel. Fortunately, Marius usually makes use of a suite on the top floor. I’ve lost too much time to worry about subtlety. I drop down, grab the edge of the roof and propel myself forward, kicking in the window. The glass shattering in the still night sounds more like an explosion. I land and immediately draw blades. There’s a couple of frightened cries as both a young man and woman scamper from the bed. “Two cousin? Your greed really is boundless.”

He scrambles about, looking for a way to defend himself. “This is how you choose to do this Katarina?”

In truth, Marius has always been enough of a warrior that I’d rather it not be this way. But if I want the Guild there is no choice. “Get out!” I snarl at the two confounded whores and charge him. I don’t need them being a distraction. They’re quick to comply, but I won’t have long before they alert the house’s guards. 

He finally retrieves a single dagger and brings it up to block my downward slash. I over-committed while he was unarmed and can’t get away as his fist slams into my face, knocking me off balance, I lose my grip on my dagger. I reel backward, tasting blood in my mouth, as he gets his feet under him. Changing tactics, I reach for another dagger, balanced for throwing. Marius no longer knows me as he once did, I doubt he’ll predict what I’m doing. I throw it, intentionally sailing it to his right, leaving myself an open target for him. 

He takes the opportunity, pouncing at me, dagger ready for the kill. I spring out of the way, preparing my own strike. He reads what I’m doing, changing trajectory, managing to drag his blade along my stomach. It’s not deep, more of a scratch, but still, I feel a warm trickle coming from it. I’ve had enough. 

I don’t fall back, taking him by surprise. I spin, and land a kick to his knee, knocking it to the side with an audible pop. He brings the knife up in a wild defensive gesture, but I’m no longer there. Now I’m at his back, and my dagger drives deep into him, piercing a lung. He turns when I withdraw it, still trying to fight me. I plunge it into his heart, ending this. 

He falls backward, eyes wide in shock, the second of my family that I’ve stolen the life from. No time to contemplate now, I hear the thud of boots on the stairs and put my fingers to his neck to check for a pulse. Nothing. I make my exit quickly just as I hear the door behind me start to open. 

Our last meet is at one of Lark’s little hidden homes, this one a suite of rooms at the heart of an abandoned manor in Old Town. Instead of an ancient, crumbling mausoleum deserted ages ago, this one seems to have been cared for until fairly recently. The family was very likely targeted in one of Jericho’s purges. Lark is already there, casually perched on a faded damask sofa. “Oh, your poor face, good thing we waited until after Solstice. I take it you succeeded with your cousin?”

I smile, it feels hollow somehow, but I need him to feel confident in what we’ve done. “Of course, and it looks the same for you.” 

The door crashes open with Inara’s entrance, her body language exudes rage, but her eyes are strangely calm. “Somebody fucking warned him, he’s in the wind.”  There’s blood spattered everywhere on her and she clenches and unclenches her fists in rapid succession. “He had his people covering his escape, I tried to get through them.” 

I need to get her calm and rational. “Still, he’ll go to ground, he won’t be in the way while we secure our position. We’ll deal with him if he returns.”

“Whatever. Now what?” Both of them turn to me. 

“None of them will act without leadership in place. They’ll be scrabbling around to take it for themselves. Lark, you need to make sure they meet tomorrow night, that’s when we take what’s ours. For now, we part, keep yourselves secure.”

The adrenaline has started wearing off as we part ways into different ends of the city and without it, I feel the icy air razor sharp against my skin as I make my way back home. The burning in my thigh has never let up and I feel a thudding ache across my face. And yet, I am triumphant. And what of Marius, another of my kin, dead for mine and Jericho’s ambitions. We had trained and sparred together once. He was not quite as old as my father and served as a mentor when I was young. He too though turned on me when my father sought to replace me. And they all turned away from the greater good of the Empire when the finally relented to mother and chose the Pale Woman. Let him rot, he clearly was informed about what I was after and didn’t make the least effort to even contact me. Unless it was him that’s been following me. Time will tell. 

For now, I need to concentrate my efforts on finishing taking control of the Guild. Despite my initial hesitation, this would have been the path meticulously laid out for me as a child. I’m tired of being just Du Couteau’s failed daughter or the Grand General’s whore. I want to make my own fate, to leave my own legacy, to make the Guild truly mine. Despite it being for his own ends, I do owe Jericho for pushing me in this direction. His ability to read me so well is still deeply unsettling at times.

I sneak through the house as silently as possible, no windows this time. My lamps have been left on, that was kind of him. The sting of the wound demands my attention and I dig through my wardrobe to withdraw a small box. As I cut away the remnants of my clothing around it,  I realize that the best way to truly see it is to perch on my dressing table and use the mirror. It’s deep, but no major vessels have been torn, although blood still slowly drips from it. No way around it, it needs to be stitched. I growl to myself as I clean it and dab it with a numbing agent. 

I thread the needle while I wait for it to do its work. When it’s a good as it will get, I draw a deep breath, I’m still going to feel some of this. “I distinctly remember telling you to be careful.” 

“Seriously, right now! Shut up, for once, Jericho.”  The last thing I need at the moment is a smug I told you so. 

I go back to attempting to start the stitches. “You’re going to butcher that. We should get a healer.”

“No healers.” I spit through gritted teeth. I hate healers. 

He storms over and rips the needle out of my hand, dropping into the chair in front of me. “Turn around.” He motions for me to turn the wound towards him. 

 “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” This isn’t the first time I’ve had to do this, I don’t know about him. 

“Don’t you trust me?” He echoes my words from earlier in the day, is he really teasing me right now? I make a frustrated noise, give in and turn for him to look at it. “Already numb?” I nod. “Don’t flinch.”

He drives the needle through my flesh, I clench my jaw and dig my fingers into the edge of the table. I still feel each puncture and pull, somewhat muted, but I’m still clearly aware of them. I close my eyes and concentrate on breathing, inhale, exhale. Finally, I feel him stop and tie off the last stitch. “There, not bad at all.”

I look down, from what I can see, he did a better job than I would have. I’m loathe to admit it though. “Only slightly crooked.” He doesn’t respond, instead, he begins wrapping it in gauze. A small pang of guilt tugs at me, that was unnecessarily mean. I look anywhere but at him. “Sorry.” I nearly whisper. 

“Don’t worry about it Kitten.” He kisses my leg softly, just above the line of gauze, my heart thuds. “Tell me how it went.” I think about everything that transpired and realize how truly, deeply tired I am. All the adrenaline has finally worn off now that I’m home and no longer bleeding and a slight foreboding- for the future takes its place. My life has changed inexorably.  Without much thought, I slide down into his lap and lean my head against his chest, yearning for that comfort I feel in his arms. For a moment he doesn’t respond and I worry he’ll push me away again. Then I feel his arms wrap around me and he kisses the top of my head. “I hope you don’t start expecting to be spoiled like this all the time.”

“No, just most of the time.” He doesn’t retort as usual for us, instead, he quietly strokes my hair for a few moments. Sometimes, I’d give anything to know exactly what he’s thinking. “Anyway, it’s been a hell of a night.”

I stay leaning against him as I detail the night’s events and I hear as he sharply inhales when I mention the warning I was sent and the messenger. “I wasn’t expecting him to be bothered to get involved.”  

I look up at him, feeling a little betrayed. “You knew it was possible though. Be honest with me, there is more to this than you’ve let me know and the Black Rose is involved.” 

He hesitates, how deep does his trust in me go. “The visions indicate there is a conspiracy of some sort. It has been endlessly frustrating trying to flush them out. Putting the Guild in your hands was one of the many steps I took to get Black Rose loyalists out of power. Other than that, I’ve been chasing shadows and waiting for them to make a mistake.” I can feel the animosity and irritation in his words, but still, he’s kept this from me. 

  “He let me go and I ended Marius, but we were exposed before we started tonight. And I’ve been followed, as you know. If I had all the information I may have planned this differently. If you want me in this with you, no more secrets.” The steel in my tone surprises even me. 

He considers my words and then lets out a sigh. “I suppose it was unfair to keep it from you.” My eyes get wide, that was entirely unexpected.  “Don’t look at me like that, I can admit when I was wrong.  I will remedy that in the future.  But for now, go get some sleep, you look tired.” 

Reluctantly I stand, gingerly putting weight on my leg. “Coming?” 

“No, I...” I glare at him, I’m not the only one who looks tired. “I’ll get the lamps first. Be right along Kitten.” 

[mittens-220]

Hataraku Maou-sama Theories and Headcanons (spoilers for Volume 17 onwards)

So this was posted on MokoChan_314 (Livejournal), but since it’s not widely shared, I’ll post it here as well. Moko and I thought all of these up together. I would love to discuss any of these things with you guys!

There are a lot of them, but actually all these theories and headcanons revolve mainly around the angels because I love their story so much. So much dark drama.

For those who do not know…the angels mentioned in the series so far.

Gabriel: First gen angel. Was a mercenary handling security in his old planet. Ignora: Fake God. Scientist in her old planet, Lailah’s boss(?). Mother of Lucifer, wife of Sataniel. Kamael: Generation unknown. Was most likely a scientist in his old planet. Lailah: First gen angel. Was a doctor in her old planet. Mother of Emilia. Raguel: Second gen angel, occupation in old planet unknown Sariel: Second gen angel, was a lawyer in his old planet. Brought Kael and Shakeenah (Yesod and Malkuth respectively) to the research facility to aid the humans in their research for a cure. Sataniel: Ancient Demon King. Scientist in his old planet. Father of Lucifer, husband of Ignora. 

1.   Sariel, Raguel and other second generation angels were experimented on using Yesod fragments and had their memories erased/manipulated.

Evidence:

Raguel has a streak of purple in his hair like Alas=Ramus and Acies. [his appearance mentioned in Vol 5] (Of course, he himself may be a Yesod for all we know but that’s highly unlikely as Alas=Ramus had no reaction when she was near him.) As for Sariel, his “light of the fallen” which erases holy magic was highly similar to what Chiho pulled off when she was using a fragment of Yesod. [Vol 5]

About the memory manipulation,  it’s strongly hinted from several incidents in the series. The biggest one being Sariel saying that “Second Gen” angels only appeared after the Demon King disaster. But wait a minute, wasn’t Sariel a lawyer working in the research facility in the angel’s old planet? So yeah, big discrepancy.

2.   The second gen angels were the ones who followed Sataniel and turned their backs against heaven.

Evidence:

No strong evidence here but since Sariel mentioned that “Second Gen” angels only appeared after the Demon King’s Disaster and the rebel angels were captured after Sataniel lost, it would make sense to link those two together and say that the ones who followed Sataniel are the Second Gen angels.

3.     Gabriel was on Sataniel’s side but remained in Heaven as a spy(?).

Evidence:

Since vol 3, he has been doing many things that do not make sense. Easily letting go of Alas=Ramus, trying to get information from Lucifer, giving Maou a chance to rescue Emi and Alsiel… He’s been derailing Heaven’s plans while looking like he’s helping heaven. When everything settled down, he happily joined Maou’s group.

Also, Lailah seems to trust him a lot, consulting him about the ancient demon king’s inheritance and other things about heaven she does not understand. So it seems likely that he was on Sataniel’s side all along. However, since he still has memories of his past, he probably managed to avoid looking like an enemy of heaven.

4.     Malkuth is the real big bad boss.

Evidence:

Malkuth is the one in the astronaut suit who appeared in vol 10 and vol 17. In vol 17, it’s quite obvious as Alas=Ramus addresses him/her as Malkuth when the astronaut suit separated her from Emi and tried to take her away. Also, everytime, he/she attacks, the aura of his/her attacks are shown to have a golden light (Malkuth’s color). In Vol 6, when Maou questioned Iron about his actions, Iron just said that he’s following orders. I would say Sephirah are more likely to follow the orders of other Sephirah rather than those of angels which they seem to dislike (debatable)

In Vol 10, Gabriel also said the “Astronaut Suit” was the one commanding them.

5.     Malkuth is controlling Ignora

Evidence:

Take the previous headcanon and the fact that Gabriel told the gang in vol 13 that Ignora is their leader and you get this.

6.   Lucifer was never some head of Archangels or commanded any angels. Heck, he probably never returned to “Heaven” after Sataniel snatched him away together with Yesod.

Evidence:

It makes no sense timeline-wise. Shortly after the “angels” landed in Ente Isla, Ignora and Sataniel had a falling out and Sataniel left with Lucifer and the Yesod. Then he just followed Sataniel all the way till Sataniel died and was left wandering the demon world alone. There would have been no time for Lucifer to establish some kind of angel status in front of the Ente-Isla humans.

But wait, then why were the angels in vol 3 so scared of him? After the Demon King disaster, the “angels” started conjuring mythical stories of themselves and they must have spun stories of how scary Lucifer was. That’s why they got scared.

[But Lucifer seems to believe he was a commander though] From 0-2, you can see he suffers memory loss. I wouldn’t discount the theory he got his memories manipulated too.

[How about in vol 5? Feeling bored in heaven and everything] That was the time when the “angels” were still floating around in their space ship, doing absolutely nothing.

[Leaving a mess for Heaven to clean up? Also in vol 5] Uhhh…I don’t have any argument against that except for fake memories. Lucifer himself might have read the fake stories of the angels and himself when he conquered the Western continent of Ente-Isla.

Actually I would just write it off as Wagahara intended a more mythical backstory for the angels but he changed it to some sci-fi thing starting from vol 10.

7. Only the demons reacted badly to Mikitty because they all had a corrupted/faulty Malkuth gene or part in them.

Evidence:

Vol 15 already said that demons were the result of failed immortality using Malkuth alone.

Mikitty is Daath and her influence probably tried to readjust/remove or balance the spoilt gene in them leading to their massive discomfort. Though I would believe that Sephirah were never meant to have demon magic and the corrupted magic was going to be purified by Mikitty.

8. Lucifer reacted the worst because he has both yesod and malkuth genes had both were corrupted by his demonic magic.

Evidence:

Also from vol 15, we can believe that Lucifer has complete immortality from both yesod and malkuth genes. However, he also had demon magic which we know doesn’t match well with Sephirah (according to Acies)

When Mikitty got near him, his hair turned silver (demon magic purified? Because we know his purple hair is a sign of demon magic in his body).

9. Only a Sephirah corrupted with demon magic can hurt another Sephirah or hurt Malkuth basically.

Evidence:

Essentially the fight between a berserk Acies and Malkuth in vol 17.

That’s why emi couldn’t do anything. One Sephirah can easily stop another but one with demon magic like Acies will have the upper hand. (Too bad the demon magic makes Sephirah feel sick)

10. Lucifer was the first one to be successfully implanted with the immortality gene and his gene base was then used to give the others immortality to become angels

Evidence:

『This child is the hope of humanity! He is the Child of Dawn who can bring light to the humans who are close to perishing!』

This sentence angered Sataniel, but Ignora disregarded this completely.

『It’s complete! It’s finally complete! I succeeded! Humanity can be saved!』

Gabriel overheard this before Kael and Shakeenah attacked. At the time, the only thing which could be completed and save humanity would be the immortality gene. “Child of Dawn” is also a common reference to Lucifer in Christianity. And Sataniel would definitely be angry if it was his own son who was experimented on.

11. As a result being the base of the immortality gene, Sataniel and Ignora might have made Lucifer into an artificial Sephirahh.

Evidence:

Absolutely nothing concrete, except for his reactions to Mikitty which did not appear to affect the other angels. Also in vol 18, it was mentioned that he was tied down all the time before Sataniel split the moon. Why was that necessary for him when the other angels who got that immortality gene too were not treated the same way? Could it be because he had an extra power (i.e Sephirahh power) which he could not control? Could it explain why Acies and Alas=Ramus feel so compatible with him when they basically hate the other angels? Why did Sataniel feel the need to take away both Yesod and Lucifer when he wanted to disrupt the research? Was it because he loved Lucifer or could they have used Lucifer to advance the research in place of a missing Yesod?

12. The fifth chamber in the underground facility which is meant to hold the Noah Gear found in the demon world which Kinanah led Maou and gang to in vol 17 was for Lucifer.

Evidence:

So far, we know that there are four components to the Noah’s gear (Nothung Sword, Aldramalech’s spear, Ginkan no Mado and the Astral Gem) however when kinanah tried to infuse demon magic into Maou’s sword (actually Maou’s horn, mistaking it for Nothung’s sword due to dementia), one more chamber appeared.

Why I think that the fifth is for Lucifer is because Sataniel only told Lucifer about four items. There was no need to tell him the fifth one, because the fifth is himself.

Reason for Sataniel doing this? Refer to the previous two headcanons. Lucifer is someone with Sephirah genes and strong demon magic (made stronger in the underground facility which sucks demon magic out of whichever demon that enters and then infused into the parts of the Noah’s gear) and probably the perfect weapon against the Sephirah in heaven.

13. Ok here’s a big one and probably no strong evidence with exception of Wagahara’s writing so far. Sataniel is still alive. Ignora is being controlled by Malkuth because if she doesn’t obey, Sataniel and maybe Lucifer will be killed.

Evidence:

Yah, this is really out there. Just that so far wagahara has been emphasising so much on the love between a couple, love within a family, it’s totally weird if he broke that pattern with “Ignora killed her own Husband for her ambitions. And she abandoned her Son” We know from Gabriel that Ignora was actually a very compassionate person so this kind of self sacrificing action is not completely unimaginable?

Then wait, what does Malkuth want to do with her? My theory is to complete the immortality research, give every single Ente Isla person Sephirah genes. I mean, the Sephirah’s main goal is to replicate their genes right (mentioned in vol 18) There’s this bunch of people who managed to do it without the slow courting, marriage, sexual intercourse, then hoping for a successful pregnancy part so why not make use of it.

Yeah. Something like that. I’m not good at explaining how strange my brain is.

14. Totally unimportant headcanon. Kamael is a first gen angel, was Sataniel’s love rival and totally hates Sataniel.

Evidence:

Kamael was in the same research team as Ignora and Sataniel so not a far cry that he knows them both well.

He stated to be immensely loyal to Ignora as an angel so I doubt he followed Sataniel, making his status as a first gen angel likely.

I find it very interesting that in vol 15, wagahara said that Kamael and Sataniel were the final Defense against Kael and shakeenah. So who or what were they protecting? I would say it’s Ignora who was pregnant with Lucifer (who had the immortality genes that could save all of them). Yeah and then I connected this to Kamael doing such a crazy thing is because he loves Ignora too.

But of course, not that kind of crazy love to the point he wants to eliminate Sataniel. Or Sataniel and Ignora wouldn’t have got married and had a kid successfully in the first place? (Debatable)

About his hatred towards Sataniel other than the headcanon love rival thing, could be because Sataniel injured him very badly during the “demon king disaster”. Most likely got burnt very thoroughly (completely covered in armor and raspy voice). Well if we consider above headcanon where I said that malkuth was controlling Ignora, we can also include the “why couldn’t you protect your wife” logic.

(Wait, how did you assume that Kamael hates Sataniel?) you mean him screaming Satan multiple times in vol 8 did not clue you in? Maou obviously doesn’t know Kamael so the only other Satan in the picture is Sataniel.

Mittens: no wonder he tried to burn Lucifer to a crisp.

Moko: probably held back in the end because Lucifer is still the child of the woman he loves.

Mittens: chinese fans said that if Lucifer was a girl, he might have been gentler.

Moko: or perverted.

Mittens:.....

Moko: actually one can be perverted regardless of the target’s gender

Mittens: let’s not go there.

15. About the Silver Arm clan (Vol 0-2 and Vol 17- where Kinanah referred to the Silver arm clan as an angel legion)

The silver arm clan are basically a bunch of autonomous robots (like mobile suits, akuma from d.gray man?) which are powered by dead angels. They are likely to be used by Ignora’s side rather than Sataniel’s since Kinanah and Camio’s father (Caminijah(?)) attacked them relentlessly.

My theory is that these robots were developed when the Angel’s old planet still existed because during then, there were wars being fought so it makes sense such weapons were developed.

I also think that they were made to run on the magic of dead people. Because hey, maybe dead people still hold some magic in them, why not make use of it.

[Wait, what makes you think that Ignora’s side didn’t develop this technology only when they were preparing for war against Sataniel?] Because Lailah knew every single model that existed. If she knows the exact name of each model, likely they were being developed or already developed when she was still with the other angels.

[Ok, but the dead bodies have silver hair. That means they were angels right? Where did they get the dead angels from?] Angels who committed suicide when they were drifting around aimlessly.

They were probably used as extra soldiers but would power down when indoors so as not to cause too much destruction.

Still thinking about their existence honestly.

And here’s the big mystery I cannot figure out.

Who put Lucifer to sleep and trapped him in the white room in the Demon Fortress? [Vol 0-2] Whoever did that wiped his memory as well too…

This one is very weird because the room is only accessible via retina scan. We know Lucifer can open the room by himself. The only other person who can open the room is likely to be his father, Sataniel.

If they were at war with the angels, why trap his son in a room rather than letting him run away? And if one was busy fighting and trying not to die, who would have time to do such a troublesome thing such as opening multiple doors, putting Lucifer to sleep in a sealed medical bed (and possibly erasing his memories at the same time?)

Sataniel has no reason to erase Lucifer’s memories because he told him many things about the Noah’s gear and Sephira. Probably only the enemy would benefit from erasing Lucifer’s memories...but the enemy wouldn’t have access to the room. (Retina scan)

Which is why I proposed headcanon 13. [The one where I think Ignora actually didn’t kill Sataniel and they both might have worked together to protect their son from the Sephira at the last moment, or made a deal with the Sephira which involves keeping their son alive but they will erase his memory so he won’t interfere. That kind of thing. Just put him to sleep and make sure no one can get to him. ]

[vinspiration-book]

Son of Palaven, Daughter of Earth Playlist

Based on the story by miceenscene

Story Here

Spotify Playlist Here

Playlist Status: Synced up to ch. 47

This wonderful piece of fanfiction inspired me to create a soundtrack for it.  Here is a track listing and some thoughts about each piece.  I try to pick thematic tracks for each story beat, while still retaining a rhythm between each song.

1. The Arranged Marriage - Gavin Luke

An instrumental piece by film composer Gavin Luke is the overture.  Anxious and urgent, it depicts a quiet, unhappy uncertainty that is nevertheless peppered by bright chords.  Combined with the name, it sets the tone for Shepard and Garrus’ unwilling journey into matrimony.

2. I Still Taste Fire - Stephanie Mabey

“I woke up with ashes in my mouth”

Shepard’s beginning theme.  A dark and driving song of regret and grit.  Shepard feels that she, Flaming Death, has personally lost the war and didn’t even get to see the ending.  The line “Thought I'd always remember what it felt like / To want you / But it's all kind of hazy now / Almost like I burned it down” normally refers to a lover, but in Shepard’s case, the “you” is an end to the war that she thought she wanted.  Now that the price of peace is her freedom, it's a bitter thing to swallow.

3. This Means War - Marianas Trench

“I hate to admit it but I miss the war”

Garrus’ beginning theme.  Whereas Shepard’s song was all seriousness and loss, Garrus can never quite be 100% sass-free.�� So we get this jocular tune about having to play nice with someone even though you’d rather be fighting them.

4. Can’t Be Tamed - Miley Cyrus

“If you try to hold me back I might explode”

The wedding: Shepard’s view.  Deep in enemy territory, forced to participate in a ritual meant to demean her and her species, Shepard is nevertheless putting on a fierce display, just like the brash attitude of this number.  The irony of the song is that the singer keeps repeating over and over how she can’t be tamed; almost as if no one believes her?  Also includes the line “I'm like a puzzle / But all of my pieces are jagged” which has a double meaning that ties in to the story: as Garrus says much, much later both literally and metaphorically, “[A puzzle] is the best thing you could have gotten me”.

5. Love Runs Out - OneRepublic

“I'll be doin' this, if you ever doubt, / 'Til the love runs out”

The wedding: Garrus’ view.  Is this a romantic song, or a resigned one?  Or is it duplicitous?  Garrus may be a bad turian, but he’s still obedient to the Hierarchy, even if it’s only going through the motions and hoping for an escape.  The driving punch of the bass notes echoes this sentiment in a song that could be read as either loving commitment or bitter commitment.  It contains a lot of fire imagery too, especially the singer being someone to help someone else start a fire… perfect for being tied to Flaming Death. The song also mentions an (arch?)angel and the strong influence of the singer’s mother, both of which are important to the story.

6. Poker Face - Lady Gaga

“Russian Roulette is not the same without a gun”

Spying: Shepard’s view.  So Shepard and Garrus only ever play a board game in this story rather than poker, but come on.  It’s Poker Face.  It’s the best song ever about selfishly conning your partner to further your own high-stakes goals.

7. Fraud - Jonathan Coulton

“Sharp teeth test your skin / Too late, you let an angel in”

Spying: Garrus’ view.  This song takes a more meditative approach to being disingenuous, but just about every verse is packed with imagery that pairs perfectly with the story, from unwanted houseguests, to painting, fighting, and losing.  The refrain is even about an angel with fangs!

8. Didn’t Know You - Karmin

“Like a bird of prey / Out of nowhere you came / Do you always get your way?"

The reports: Shepard’s view.  An angry song about being the victim of deception and invasive tactics.  The singer talks especially about upending their entire life (setting “dreams ablaze”--fire imagery again) for the sake of someone who turned out to be a liar that controls their every move.  Turians are sometimes referred to as “birds” as a pejorative in Mass Effect, making the repeated line fit even more.

9. Can’t Go to Hell - Sin Shake Sin

“This romance with ignorance has left us behind”

The reports: Garrus’ view. Unlike Shepard’s reaction to finding the reports--which is very much about personal betrayal--Garrus’ reaction is a more public outcry about the situation going FUBAR.  One of the central tenets in ME canon about Shepard and Garrus’ relationship (to the point that even the characters themselves talk about it in these terms) is that he willingly follows her into hell every single time.  This makes the bitter anger of the chorus (“We can’t go to hell if we’re already there”) especially poignant.  The second verse evokes Shepard and Garrus’ situation closely too, mentioning being “blind by design” and stating “...history keeps getting paid to change its mind”, which is the purpose of the arranged marriage in the first place.

10. Home - Machine Gun Kelly & X Ambassadors

“Now tell me, how did all my dreams turn to nightmares?”

Shepard and Garrus: no extraction.  A rare male/female duet of frustration and longing for respite that neatly applies to the protagonists’ mindsets.  Both Anderson and the Hierarchy have turned away their soldiers, leaving them in this untenable situation.  Though they arrived at it differently--and aren’t commiserating at this point--Shepard and Garrus are feeling the same thing now:  They must continue to live together, but there’s no way this life can bring them any happiness or rest.

11. Hide and Seek - Imogen Heap

“Speak no feeling, no, I don't believe you”

Shepard is broken, and so is Garrus, a little.  This haunting acapella song (delivered in dual-toned overdub kind of like how a turian speaks, interestingly) was famously used by a TV drama for an overly dramatic murder scene, and then used again by Saturday Night Live to spoof that scene.  But Hide and Seek is technically about a divorce… and how a former home now becomes unrecognizably empty as the former couple moves out and apart.  Although they can’t separate, this is essentially what has happened to Shepard and Garrus.  Shepard tries to “live” as little as possible in the house while still being confined to it.  Garrus tries to escape to work.  

12. Rumble - Hi Fashion

“He said, she said / You better mind your space”

The alley brawl.  A complete turnaround from the previous song, this abrupt battle anthem (sung by dual tones again, and with a notable mention of a man and a woman both throwing the punches) is both high-energy, but also a slower tempo than you’d expect.  The effect is that of measured, precise violence rather than a chaotic frenzy; perfect for trained soldiers giving a beatdown.  Canon Shepard gets ribbed for being an awful dancer--outside of the battlefield, at least, giving an ironic twist to the dance imagery in the lyrics.  But this is technically the first time in the story that Shepard and Garrus are in sync: their first metaphorical dance together.

13. Hammer to Fall - Queen

“Tow the line and play their game / Yeah, let the anesthetic cover it all”

Medigel.  This story's version of Shepard loves Queen, and this song provides the title for the story’s later chapters, so it had to be on the soundtrack of course.  A disillusioned anthem to soldiers who are asked to fight wars for reasons someone else decided, it describes Shepard and Garrus’ situation perfectly--their lives have been ruined because of Fedorian’s unjust war.  Even though this is a small snippet of background to the story, it’s nevertheless a critical turning point, when Garrus realizes just how badly Shepard has been wronged… and that he himself contributed to it.

14. Karma - Marina

“So vicious, this cycle / When you live in sweet denial”

The apology: Shepard’s view.  Garrus apologies to Shepard, but she doesn’t know how to take it.  She’s skeptical, and with good reason.  Although this song is talking about a great deal of betrayal, the tone is less angry--or even melancholy--than weary and aloof.  The singer has made what peace she can with the situation, and is just waiting to see how everything plays out, rather than actively wishing harm on someone.  Karma is usually about an equal return of bad experiences, but Shepard is too defeated at this point to really care about that.  Garrus’ distress at his actions is actually better karma than if he himself were to be betrayed.

15. I Won’t Let You Down - OK Go

“Maybe all you need is someone to trust”

The apology: Garrus’ view.  Garrus is a man of action, and this upbeat track wastes no time in sorrow, instead attempting to reach out to the wounded party with a direct promise of support.  The lyrics talk about people who have every right to be distrustful, even using battle imagery (“no flag to fly”, “strap that armor tighter on”)... but rather than trying to get past their defenses, the singer encourages the downtrodden to fight harder--together.  A very Garrus point of view.

16. Rumors - Lindsay Logan

"You're probably gonna write what you didn't see”

The interview.  Ah, Khalisah.  A pretty straightforward song about paparazzi doing what paparazzi do, sung by the aggrieved celebrity.

17. One Shot - Rob Thomas

"We get one chance to make this kickstart”

Bottle shooting at the valley.  While Shepard and Garrus fire a lot of rounds during this little date, it's the final shot that's the most important.  Garrus' previous actions since their fight have been peace offerings, but this is his first actual gift to Shepard.  He gives Shepard his crown just to see her smile.  Essentially, his first romantic gesture is literally “one shot”.  The sentiment pairs perfectly with this energetic tune about starting something rare and good.

18. Souvenir - Johnnyswim

“It's those little things that I hold dear”

Terra Goods.  At this point, Shepard and Garrus are starting to do things to really support each other in little ways and in big ways, culminating in Garrus creating a whole souvenir trading company just to make Shepard happy.  This song, a duet that alternates between jaunty and staid, talks about a couple that had a brief good time, then separated due to some unnamed conflict.  Now they both think fondly of their time together, making souvenirs of the memories.  Both singers individually wish for another chance, while not realizing the other person does too.

19. DJ Got Us Fallin’ In Love - Usher, Pitbull

“I think I remember those eyes”

Clubbing with Solana.  This throbbing dance tune is simple enough that even Shepard could probably keep to the beat.  Seeing Shepard (attempting to) dance is one of the first moments where Garrus is physically attracted to her.

20. Bohemian Rhapsody - Queen

“Easy come, easy go / Little high, little low”

The walk back.  Shepard sings this most famous Queen song as she stumbles home under Garrus’ watchful eye.  It describes a murderer with a guilty conscience, which Shepard is somewhat.  She’s killed a lot of turians, but now they are people to her instead of monsters.  Shepard probably isn’t thinking about that, though… it’s just a fun song to sing when you’re drunk.  Or anytime.

21. Livin’ in the Sunlight, Lovin’ in the Moonlight - The Good Johnsons

“I’m right here to stay”

Splashing in the fountain.  This whimsical cover of an old song is just silly enough for Shepard’s drunken water foray.  Although it’s been building for a bit, it takes hard liquor for Shepard to admit she might be happy on Palaven.  But there’s a slight undercurrent of the singer not believing their own message.  The line “I’m as free as any daughter” is especially ironic in this context.

22. Mom - Meghan Trainor

“Ain’t nobody got a mom like mine”

Visiting with Galena.  Shepard’s relationship with Garrus’ mother is one of my favorite parts of the story, and it’s one of the things that cements Shepard’s feeling that she may just belong here.  It’s also significant that even though Shepard is starting to love Garrus, she can only express love towards his mother at first.  In a way, loving Galena teaches Shepard how to love Garrus.  Hence why this story beat gets its own song.

23. With A Little Help From My Friends - The Beatles

“Are you sad because you're on your own?”

The care package.  Finally, Shepard finds out that Earth hasn’t completely abandoned her.  This song especially talks about isolation when your lover is not there, and how friends can help you through it.  When Garrus isn’t there, Shepard is almost totally alone on the planet, so learning her squad still supports her is a huge relief.

24. Tongues - Joywave, KOPPS

“Tell me all the things I've missed”

Ashley.  This furtive song is about returning to where you are from, only to find out you are now a stranger to them.  While Shepard’s argument with Ashley is a little more circumspect than that, the gist is that Shepard learns that even though she now has this lifeline back to Earth, she’s not welcomed like she was before… which is just what she has been fearing since her interview with Khalisah.

25. Unbreakable - Jamie Scott

“I won't let you fall down now”

Garrus comforts Shepard and comes to a realization.  This song of gentle encouragement talks about a woman who has lost everything, and the man who wants to love her regardless.  It’s emotive and warm and seems to capture just what Garrus is thinking as Shepard cries in his arms.

26. War Paint - Fletcher

“I write the colors on my face”

The dress shop.  Keslia describes the Gala being a battle, and Shepard’s dress being her armor.  This song of self-empowerment uses loads of battle imagery and works in tandem with the previous one… Shepard’s been wounded emotionally but she’s still fighting.  Turians’ face markings have important meaning for family and home.  But for humans, the same sort of marks are called war paint and are used by warriors to represent ferocity and power.  Shepard turns an outfit that could just make her into the ornament that the turians want and turns it into a symbol of her survival.

27. Ballroom Blitz - Tia Carrere

“She could kill you with a wink of her eye”

The Gala, part 1.  A fun cover of an energetic song talking about a crazy party fight.  Between the turian generals and Cyntha, Shepard and Garrus really do have a battle on their hands.  While nothing violent actually happens, they have each other’s backs throughout the event, even standing up solo versus their partner’s enemies.

28. Blue Dress - Benjamin Franklin Leftwich

“I should love you better than that”

The Gala, part 2.  Shepard asks Garrus if her presence is harming his career, but he doesn’t reply.  This song is meant to be the answer he doesn’t say.  It’s an apology from a man whose work/travel has prevented him from participating in a relationship like he should.  Interestingly, in ME canon, it’s the opposite: the Shadow Broker notes that Garrus’ attachment to Shepard prevents him from being a better commander.  The line “But still my only weakness / Is you baby in that blue dress” fits nicely with the story, but funnily enough also with canon… as blue is the color of the Alliance uniforms that canon Shepard typically wears.

29. Vie En Rose - Pomplamoose

“It’s only him for me / and me for him, for life”

Dancing in the driveway.  This version of Shepard speaks French, so this slow, lilting, classic French love song is what I imagine coming out of the car stereo when Garrus teaches Shepard to dance.  Ok, so it’s probably more likely a turian song playing in this scene, but still.  I especially like the stanza that says “He speaks words of love to me / They are everyday words / And they do something to me” because unlike canon, where Shepard and Garrus’ bond is forged in battle, in this AU it’s built from all the little everyday things they say and do for each other.

30. Bad Liar - Selena Gomez

“If you're the art, I'll be the brush”

Painting.  Shepard and Garrus made that “100%” promise, but when it comes to feelings, they don’t exactly follow through.  This breathy song is about admitting--at least to yourself--that you were denying your emotions, and that your love interest seems to be as well.  Not that Shepard is clued in enough to realize Garrus feels the same way, but putting together the easel with Garrus also helped Shepard put together why she’s reacting to him the way she is.  Once again, they are in sync without realizing it, the dorks.  This song also contains numerous lines that fit the story nicely, such as talking about living arrangements, the battle of Troy (and isn’t that just the funniest view of Shepard’s infiltration of Palaven), and “feelings on fire”.

31. Anne of Green Gables - The Charlottetown Festival

“Anne of Green Gables, sweet and strange, / stay as you are today.”

Reading to Galena.  Oh, boy, here we go.  Get those tissues ready, it’s coming soon.  This simple song from the Anne of Green Gables musical doesn’t say much, but it has a sorrowful timbre that speaks of heartache to come.

32. I Think I Love You - The Partridge Family

“Do you think I have a case? Let me ask you to your face”

Happy Anniversary!  In canon and most fanon, Garrus is slick as oil until comes to telling Shepard how he feels, and then he gets adorably pitiful and nervous.  While at this point in the story, Garrus himself is probably not ready to call it “love”, this anxiety-ridden song still captures that fragile state of mind.  Sadly, Garrus gets interrupted before he makes it as far as the singer does in his confession.

33. Galena - Kerri Sherwood

Galena’s passing.  Did you know there are a lot of songs called “Galena”?  But though I searched and searched--and quite a few of them were sad songs--none of them had the right words.  Because there aren’t any right words for this, are there?  And so, a solemn, sad instrumental piece describes Galena’s last day.

34. In My Arms - Plumb

“All I can do is hold you tight”

Garrus’ breakdown.  This song is from a mother who wants to protect her child from the harshness of the world.  But Garrus’ mother is gone, so Shepard has to sing it instead.  Growing up is hard, and the very last and hardest part of growing up for most people is losing your parents.  As a side note, the song starts by mentioning blue eyes--one of Garrus’ most notable features.

35. Calling All Angels - Jane Siberry, k.d. lang

"Don’t leave me alone"

The Vigil, part 1.  A song imploring various spirits and saints to help guide you through a trying time.  On Palaven, where they ask the Spirits’ help for everything, this would probably be especially appropriate.  Granted, this song gets used in A LOT of soundtracks, but that’s because it’s so perfect for when you’ve lost someone.  More than just loss, this song also says that you know life will go on... but those first steps afterwards are the hardest.  It’s like the MVP of movie funeral songs, and Galena deserves the best, dammit.

36. Hope Will Lead Us On - Barlow Girl

"Become the flame / That shows us the way"

The Vigil, part 2.  Shepard steps up wonderfully for the Vakarian family and helps them heal.  This song, sung almost from a sort of battle commander’s perspective, mixes strong, driving beats with inspiring statements… while still having an underlying piano refrain that is haunting and forlorn.  It doesn’t try to move past the pain, but rather keeps it as a foundation for a new beginning.

37. That’s How You Know - Amy Adams, from “Enchanted”

"It's not enough to take the one you love for granted"

Operation Two Turtle Doves.  Shepard’s getting ready to meddle with Solana’s love life.  So we have a cute song from a cute movie on that very topic.  I wish the pronouns were correct for a wlw relationship like in the story, but what can ya do.  The line “Don’t treat her like a mind reader” made me laugh, because… Keslia literally is one, being an asari and all.

38. Can’t Help Falling In Love - Elvis Prestley

"Shall I stay?"

Kissing in the study.  One of my favorite parts of the story… a tired kiss that’s all about love and comfort rather than passion.  When Shepard and Garrus are both drained emotionally and physically from the Vigil, all that’s left is a quiet gravity that draws them together.  There are many versions of this song, but Elvis’ gentle crooning rendition is all about slow movements and tender questions.

39. Love Of My Life - Queen

“You don’t know what it means to me”

Singing to babies.  Shepard’s still singing Queen, so here is her next solo.  This is such a heartwarming scene, plus we get a bit of sibling slapstick for a laugh.  The funny part is that even though Shepard is the one singing this song to the babies, the lyrics are really describing what Garrus is feeling in this scene.  It works as a cute lullaby, in the way that lullabies often are kind of dark for some reason.

40. Heaven Is A Place On Earth - Belinda Carlisle

"When I feel alone, I reach for you / And you bring me home"

Going to Earth.  There Garrus goes again with the grand gestures.  Not just anybody can say they gave their partner the world.  As much as this Shepard likes Queen, I bet she also likes other 80’s classics like Belinda Carlisle.  This song represents Shepard’s response to Garrus’ gift.

41. Girl On Fire - Alicia Keys

“Everybody stands, as she goes by / Cause they can see the flame that's in her eyes”

Arriving at Earth.  This song is meant to be from Garrus’ perspective, seeing Shepard in her natural habitat, and is particularly inspired by the story’s description of Shepard being “swallowed by sunlight” as she leaves the ship...which would make her look like she was on fire.  It’s a song of admiration and wonder over the power of this one woman who stands out from everyone else.  P.S. Did anyone else imagine the spaceship was the Normandy, even though it wasn’t?  I did.

42. Wannabe - Spice Girls

“If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends”

The Squad.  Ok, so this song is not serious at all, but Shepard’s squad are a bunch of goofballs anyway.  Although at this point Shepard probably wouldn’t tell Garrus goodbye if he bugged her like the song mentions, she does state that it means a lot to her that Garrus makes friends with her group.

43. Where Everybody Knows Your Name - Gary Portnoy

I initially added this song for Hudson’s, as it’s the theme song from the sitcom Cheers, which is all about this type of bar.  HOWEVER, there are verses in the full song that you never hear in the tv show, including one that’s a bit of toxic masculinity bordering on transphobia.  So, this song can just go in the trash where it belongs.

43. Home - Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros

“Home is wherever I’m with you”

The broken nose.  Shepard’s gotten another reminder that she doesn’t quite belong on Earth anymore… but that ends up being okay, because Garrus is her home now.  This fun duet talks about how even if you travel and have a variety of experiences, you can find that the person you shared it with is what’s really important.  This is in direct contrast to the song of the same name earlier in the playlist, which talked about needing Home to be an actual place.  In the middle of the song is a spoken-word section about the man realizing he’s in love with the woman only when she gets injured… which is so Shepard and Garrus it’s funny.  I thought for a long time that the woman’s name in the song was “Jane,” which would have made an even better fit, but it turns out it’s “Jade”.  Ah well.

44. Soft Kitty, Warm Kitty - Chris & Pui

“Purr, purr, purr”

Mr. Biscuits.  A children’s lullaby about cats napping and purring.  The main verse mentions London, which is just a coincidence as a significant location for canon Shepard & Garrus. But really I just wanted a song that Shepard could tease Garrus with.

45. I Want To Break Free - Queen

“I've fallen in love for the first time / And this time I know it's for real”

Operation I Want To Break Free.  Another of Shepard’s Queen-inspired choices that of course had to be on the soundtrack.  This rock anthem has several elements that apply to the story, including falling in love in a strange circumstance, and trying to escape from an oppressive situation.  The song is not necessarily addressed to the singer’s lover though, so the “you” referenced is more likely the outside oppressor.  As Shepard is planning this operation without Garrus’ help, it would make sense that this not song is speaking to him directly.

46. Aurora Borealis - Bohnes

“I saw with my own eyes something beautiful”

Seton Lake:  Garrus’ view.  This location actually exists in real life and is worth googling an image of!  This breathy ballad is an ode to love that is as sublime and ineffable as the northern lights.  With lyrics that talk about stellar phenomena and our place in the universe, it’s especially poignant for lovers from different planets.  The line about “a beautiful coincidence that causes love” also fits pretty well, since the arranged marriage turning to love was all unplanned.  There’s also a line, “the world inside your eyes is more than black and white to me,” and one of Garrus’ most famous lines in canon is about how he’s unsure how to operate outside of black and white morality… but as it turns out, when it’s Shepard, he’s okay with it.

47. I Choose You - Sara Bareilles

“I believe in something again”

The Mark.  While this chapter is explicit, it’s also really charming, humorous, and emotional.  So this light and breezy song about choice and beginnings fits well as Shepard’s perspective.  This story is largely about Shepard having her autonomy taken from her, with the course of her entire life decided by others.  But when she is finally in a position to do something about it--and when Garrus even offers her an out--she chooses him.  The song mentions outside influences trying to convince the singer that her love is impossible or wrong, which is again something that Shepard has had to deal with.  But Shepard now willingly accepts the mark from Garrus that she once rejected… As the song says, the mark is a visible symbol that will “Tell the world that we finally got it all right”.  The line “I will become yours and you will become mine” sounds like a wedding vow, which seems especially appropriate.

[TO BE CONTINUED]

[emperorsfoot]

Can we talk about how Kevin has never had a stable Father-Figure

Seriously. 

Kevin Levin has never had a stable or consistent (or even really very positive) father-figure or male role model in his life. Don’t believe me? Lets take a look at his life!

1.

Harvey Hackett

Kevin’s step father. 

Admittedly, very little is known about Harvey since he only appears in one scene in one episode. But what we don’t know of him first hand, we can infer from dialogue. 

In Harvey’s exchange with Kevin in “Ultimate Power Part 2″, we learn that even though Kevin was an 11-year-old child when they lived together, Harvey was afraid of him. Imagine what they must be like, to be a child that young and one of your two main care-givers, one of your parents is afraid of you. That would totally mess with a kid’s head. And -clearly- it did when in the exact same conversation Harvey says that Kevin destroyed the house and ran away from home. And before any of you say “well, doesn’t that just prove Harvey was right to be afraid of Kevin?”, let me remind you that KEVIN WAS A CHILD AT THE TIME! 

He was only 11-years-old (or younger, we don’t know how long he was living on the streets). Children that young need care, understanding, encouragement and support! Especially special needs children. Say what you will, but a pre-pubescent kid with superpowers counts as a “special need” child. Children like that need their adult care-givers to understand them, or if not understand them, then at least make adaptations for them to better thrive. Not only did have clearly NOT do that for Kevin, but he also went one step father to openly admit to rejecting Kevin. 

To a child that young, being fearful of them is indistinguishable from rejecting them. Kevin picked up Harvey’s fear and only saw a parent who didn’t want him. 

So, he had a mental/emotional breakdown, used his unnatural super-powers to destroy their house, and ran away from home. 

Or, from Kevin’s perspective based on what he told Ben in “Kevin 11″ from the Original series, his parents threw him our because they didn’t like having a “freak” for a son. 

Kevin would see Harvey’s fear of him as a rejection and might run away from home imagining they would kick him out anyway. While Harvey would interpret Kevin’s destructive tantrum and running away as Kevin proving how “bad” a child he was instead of the cry for help that it actually was. 

Both characters’ stories are true. 

But that doesn’t change the fact that Harvey was a terrible parent and father-figure to Kevin. 

Now, lets look at his second male role model and father figure. 

2. 

Kwarrel

The inmate whom Kevin met in prison and took him under his wing. 

I could argue that Kwarrel is Kevin’s most positive male role model. Because, honestly, in the short time that they knew each other, Kwarrel did more for Kevin than any other adult figure he ever met. 

When Kevin first met Kwarrel he was newly trapped in the Null Void and newly sentenced to the prison Incarcecon. He was physically deformed by the Omnitrix and -as far as Kevin knew- permanently disfigured. Understandably, Kevin was angry, resentful, even hateful. One of the first scenes in the flashback that introduces Kwarrel is one of Kevin beating the crap out of other inmates and then asking for more. 

Seeing through Kevin’s rage and hostility, Kwarrel approaches him and strikes up a friendship. Through their friendship Kwarrel helps Kevin, not only, let go of his anger, but also helps him learn how to better control and use his powers. 

In the entire franchise, Kwarrel is the ONLY adult who works with Kevin constructively to develop and control his powers. 

We also see that Kwarrel is the one who taught Kevin to absorb matter so that he wouldn’t have to rely on absorbing energy and rest madness, or disfiguring mutation, or both. 

Sadly, Kwarrel was only with Kevin for less than a year before he was shot in the back and killed. 

All of this can be seen in “...Nor Iron Bars a Cage” in the Ultimate Alien arc of the series. I highly recommend you go and give it a rewatch. It is one of my favorite episodes. 

After Kwarrel dies helping Kevin escape from Incarsecon, he ends up running headlong into the path of our next terrible father-figure, and -quite possibly- the most toxic of all...

3.

Proctor Servantis

A power-mad Plumber with much too much influence and privilege compared to moral fiber. 

I could write chapters on this guy. But for this post, I’ll try to be brief.

When Kevin first meeds servants, he’s a ordinary human that’s employed by the Plumbers and stationed on the Null Void. He rescues Kevin from a pack of Vulpimancers that attacked him when he was wandering the Null Void an unknown amount of time after escaping Incarsecon (it could not have been that long since Kevin looks to still be between the ages and 11 and 12). 

Saving Kevin’s life was great and all. I would not like the Ben 10 franchise nearly as much as I do if Kevin stopped being a character after the age of 12. 

But almost immediately after meeting Kevin, Servants started manipulating him and using him. First just using his powers to conduct inhuman experiments on other children and aliens. Using Kevin’s Osmosian powers to graft alien DNA onto the genes of otherwise perfectly ordinary human children. 

That quickly escalated into sending Kevin and the other children on black ops missions that would have been dangerous even for adults. He basically turned Kevin into a child-soldier and used him to make other child-soldiers. 

Then, when Kevin and his team failed in one mission (the mission to kill Ben) Servants threw a juvenile tantrum and used the powers that Kevin gave him to wipe everyone’s memories and then ABANDON them to wander the Null Void alone. 

Oh, but wait, not only did Servants wipe Kevin’s memory and abandon him to the equivalent of a Turkish prison/space Australia, but Servants ALSO created false memories to replace Kevin’s real one. There by erasing part of his past and part of his identity in the process. 

And that leads me into our next weak and inconsistent father-figure...

4.

Devin Levin

Our super-sexy space daddy that I just wanna... uh... 

Anyway...

If you only ever watched Ben 10 up to the end of Ultimate Alien and nothing past it, then you would know Devin as a pure-blood Osmosian from planet Osmos V, whom married a human woman, Mrs. Levin, and had Kevin. And, from all appearances, did manage to live and be present in Kevin’s life for some time.

At least, there is a photo of Kevin with Devin in Kevin’s house. Its always hard to tell cartoon ages since they’re cartoons, but Kevin looks to be about 4 or 5 years old. That’s old enough to have vague memories of his father. 

From the ONE and ONLY flashback we get of Devin, he appears to deeply love his son and wife and is not only willing to die for them, but in fact DOES die for them. He dies protecting Earth from total planetary destruction, and as Devin dies in Max’s arms his last words are to tell his wife and son that he loves them. 

That sounds like a really great father-figure, right?

Except that he died when Kevin was 4. So, its not like he was ever actually present or active in Kevin’s life. 

But worse than that, if you DO watch beyond Ultimate Alien and into Omniverse you will see that they ret-con Devin. They ret-con him OUT!  Now, Devin never existed in the first place. Instead, he was a false memory constructed by Proctor Servants and implanted into the minds of Kevin Levin and Max Tennyson. In Kevin, so that the Osmosian would have a motivation to become a Plumber, team up with Ben and Gwen, and become a sleeper agent poised to spring when Servants reappeared. And, in Max’s mind so that Max would accept Kevin on the team without question and look out for him.

So, not only did Devin die, not only did Devin not exist, but Devin was just some little flourish to further nefarious schemes, a conspiracy, and an assignation plot. 

So... fuck Kevin. Am I right?

But I’m not done. I saved the best for last. Are you ready for number five?

5.

Max Tennyson

That’s right, Max mother-fucking Tennyson! 

Now, before you all get angry and rage replay that I’m just a hater who hates Team Ben, please remember the Original Series. Please remember Max’s backstory. Please remember how they develop Max’s character of the course of the franchise, all the way from the OS, through AF/UA, to the end of Omniverse. 

Max raised two children of his own. He is helping raise three grandchildren. He has LOTS of experience with children. 

Max is a Plumber. He’s a space cop. An alien police. He has lots of experience with people with extraordinary and super-human powers. He knows how to deal with them, how to de-escalate situations with them, how to keep them from using their powers to hurt others. (Or at least, one would assume he knows these things since that’s a Plumber’s fucking job!)

So, what does Max do the first time they meet?

Abandons him! That’s what!

At the end of the episode “Kevin 11″ the first episode where we ever meet Kevin, the fight between Ben and Kevin doesn’t “conclude” so much as it just ENDS. There’s an explosion and -at first- Kevin is buried under a bit of rubble, which gives Ben the opportunity to return to Max’s side. But Kevin craws out pretty quickly after that. He’s conscious and ambulatory. Ben, Gwen, and Max SEE him. He’s just on the other side of the train tracks. Its not like its impossible for anyone to get to him. So, what does Max do?

He takes his own children and WALKS THE FUCK AWAY! He -literally- turns his back on Kevin the first time they met. 

At this point in the franchise, Kevin is a homeless, rejected, unloved child with special needs, that no one in his life has ever tried to understand. 

Max is a grown adult who has experience with both children and people with extraordinary powers. He is the best equipped person (possibly in the world) to be a care-giver to Kevin. But Kevin’s not his, so why the fuck bother!? Right?

Even when Kevin keeps showing up. 

In “Framed” when Kevin is stalking Ben, posing as Ben, and committing crimes to frame Ben (which is, by the way, a cry for help), Max has another opportunity to help Kevin. And he wouldn’t even have to take care of the kid himself. 

In “Framed” there was this other group tracking Kevin. Some kind of SWAT team that specialized in extraordinary cases. All Max had to do was tell those guy that “hey, this monster here is really just a disfigured child, you should take care of him” and then be on his way. But Max didn't even do that! 

Just mentioning to that group which was clearly well funded, well equipped, and well trained, that this one monster they were trying to subdue was an unbalanced child who needed help would have been doing the BARE MINIMUM to help Kevin. Literally, the absolute minimum. 

But Max wouldn’t do even that! 

In fact, Max didn’t begin to give a rat’s ass about Kevin Levin until Proctor Servants had to alter his fucking brain! and give him fake memories of a partner who never existed. 

Even then, Max STILL agreed with Ben when Ben decided it was better to kill Kevin than rehabilitate him during the Ultimate Kevin arc. 

In short, 

ALL OF KEVIN’S FATHER-FIGURES/MALE ROLE MODELS ARE TERRIBLE!

Its actually amazing he managed to become as well adjusted, helpful, constructive and GOOD, a person as he has. 

[crackmadhi]

Day 16 - Family

Thursday, 12 May 2016 – Age 17 “Where’s the freaking butter!” Aura half muttered half shouted at herself, while Simon watched her panic next to the kitchen door.

This was astoundingly amusing. He could have watched this all day. Yet he knew that she would become dangerously irritated soon enough and decided to give her a hand and paced over to the counter next to her, where the butter was laying under a paper cloth, she had thrown over it. Unceremoniously he handed the butter over to her.

She grabbed it out of his hand and continued with her special dinner. Simon sighed and took the plates, forks, knives and spoons she had taken out of the cupboards and brought them into their dining room.

Carefully he set the table. He knew that Aura might forget to do it in time and decided to help her, even if she had insisted that she did not need his help.

Of course, she didn’t. But this was for Metis and her and Simon wanted it for them to be nice. He wanted Aura to smile like a fool for the next few days because this dinner had gone well and she had managed to not burn a single noodle. Not that she often burned noodles. It just happened once or twice and Simon was sure to remind her regularly of it, so she wouldn’t forget. Especially, since he had never ever burned noodles even when he first made some, when he was only ten.

He heard something metallic falling on the floor and heard her curse in Japanese. Well, she must really be stressed out when she actually started to curse in their mother’s tongue. Carefully he went through his options and decided to not go and interfere with her anger. It wasn’t a good plan and she could handle herself after all.

Still he would have liked to help her in the kitchen. He enjoyed cooking quite a bit, especially with her bur as it was now there would be a war if he would ask her if he could assist her.

That was life with his older sister these days. And he liked it that way.

Saturday, 4 November 2028 – Age 29 It was dry and hot outside and Simon had pulled off his t-shirt and sat on his kitchen counter next to the window. His head was leaning against the glass and Taka sat on his knee.

He hadn’t done anything today. No watching old anime or Steel Samurai, no reading in law or psychology books, websites or magazines. Well, he went out for a run. And he helped Taka groom herself and had fed her. He had also fed himself for that matter but it wasn’t something he thought he needed to point out especially.

He questioned himself if it was good for him to do nothing. He was still recovering and adjusting. His flat was still mostly nothing but a couch, a bed (a week ago it had come and before he had slept on a mattress for the last ten month), a TV on a box and some cutlery and books. It should be his priority to build himself a homely living space, where he could find a sense of belonging.

Taka crowed and he nuzzled her head with smile. She woke him up everyday and would remind him to go grocery shopping. A big responsibility for such a small creature but Taka faced the challenge with no hesitation. She was brave and loud and kept Simon on his feet.

It was a weird place where Simon was at right now. It was some sort of transition and he wasn’t quite sure how everything was adjusting itself. He couldn’t see where is life was heading and how his environment was changing. He hung in the air and had no possibility to change directions but only to let go and let gravity do its work. He wasn’t fond of that idea. Not at all.

And he didn’t have to let go right now.

He could hold on and be with his bird. Maybe Athena would call him tomorrow and she would tell him how her first date with Juniper had turned out. He was certain that it went well but listening to her gushing about the soon to be judge was quite pleasant.

With a huff he slowly changed position. With a coo at Taka he threw his long legs over the edge of the counter and started humming a silly lullaby his mother had taught him.

Maybe his life wasn’t great right now. Maybe he wasn’t happy or contend but this was fine with him. He was fine with being on his own with Taka and that was the truth.

Sunday, 19 February 2040 – Age 41 “How many stories do you think will he read to her?” Juniper asked Athena and pointed to Simon sitting on the blanket on the grass with Willow in his lap.

Athena shrugged and turned to Apollo with whom she had just talked about his last client. Juniper let her be and went over to the tables, where Nahyuta was calmly eating from her pie and listening to CJ latest antiques in school.

The boy could be quite naughty from time to time and Nahyuta was always amused to hear of his latest little tricks. It hadn’t helped that Trucy started to teach him magic trick whenever she was in LA with her show and Klavier had more than once complained about his socks or ties (which he still never wore) magically disappearing.

“Charlotte, wait!”

Nahyuta and Juniper’s head turned to the direction of Klavier’s voice. A little girl with a reddish-brown mop of hair was running towards Simon and Willow. Nahyuta glimpsed something in her hands and then looked over to Klavier, who ran behind her. He seemed to be a bit out of breath. Well, it was what he got for promising to look after little active Charlotte, who had gotten the endless energy of Mommy Athena.

“Is that a bird?!” CJ exclaimed and jumped on his feet to see if he was right.

Juniper sighed but didn’t bother to get up, as she saw how Athena and Apollo got over to Simon and her little daughter, who had actually found a tiny hurt bird here in the park. She shot Nahyuta a long look and they shrugged.

Thoughtful they watched Simon softly take Charlotte out of his lap and carefully examine the bird he was presented. He was so calm and gentle during the whole process and they wondered again how he had ever managed to fool anybody in believing that he was anything but a kind man.

“Does he miss Taka?” Juniper asked them watching the little examination as well.

Nahyuta sighed and squeezed his wrist.

He shot her a glance and then said: “He certainly does. I’m asking myself if we should look for a new bird. I think he really misses the contact.”

“Has he mentioned wanting a new bird?”

Nahyuta shook their head. At that Juniper nodded and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“Then maybe he isn’t ready to get a new one. Maybe he’ll never be. And getting a new hawk might be a rather difficult task itself.”

Nahyuta let out a laugh and nodded.

Maybe Simon was happy enough with his current family right now, even without his beloved bird. They somehow knew their suspicion was right and stood up to bring Simon his phone to call the avian doctor.

[richiefuckfacetozier]

Chapter 19: Boys Don’t Cry

Story: It’s Not My Fault

Pairing: Richie Tozier and Eddie Kaspbrak

Located on Archive of our own

For other chapters - | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 |

Title - “Boys Don’t Cry” by The Cure

“So how have you been?” Principal Filch asked Eddie. He had popped into his office right before class to say hello, a routine Eddie started a week ago. He rolled his eyes at the man who chuckled. “That bad?”

“It is like I’ve been hit by a bus, trampled by cows, thrown off a cliff, into an icy sea of emotions.” Eddie responded. Mr. Filch full on laughed at his description, which did make Eddie smile a little.

When he stopped laughing, he said more seriously, “I know you are going through a hard time and I’m glad you’ve been willing to talk to someone about it. Probably would be better if it was a school counselor but since you refuse to speak to any of them…”

“I did my research. You have a degree in psychology and were a school counselor for 7 years before becoming a teacher then later a principal.” Eddie grabbed one of the stress balls kept on the desk to play with absently. “You are way more qualified than any of the dipshits you’ve hired.” Then he added. “Sorry, for cursing.”

The man shook his head with humor. “You have to be one of the most brutally honest people I’ve ever met.”

“You clearly haven’t met my ex…” Eddie cringed at the last word.

“I haven’t, but many teachers talk about his...color behavior.”

“Understatement,” Eddie mumbled. “Although, recently, Richie has been practically silent in the two classes we share.”

“I’m sure he is having a hard time with the break up too.” Principal Filch’s face was filled with sympathy.

Eddie squeezed the stress ball hard. “I guess. Except he’s the one who did it, so I don’t know what he has to be upset about.”

“You’re a great kid, Eddie. I know he knows it.” Eddie let that compliment sink in, trying to believe it.

“Thanks.” He stood slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “I should get going. Thanks for listening.”

Principal Filch stood to walk him out. “I give you a hard time but you can talk to me whenever. You know that.”

“Great. See you tomorrow morning!” Eddie teased as he walked out of the office feeling a little better but not much. It was going to be an excruciating day. 

Eddie was dreading today, March 7th, with all his heart because he had to do something that he truly did not want to do. If he didn’t get the courage to go through with it he would hate himself.

He strode through the hallway that morning trying to look confident, except the minute he saw him all conviction evaporated.

There he was, just standing by his locker with his effortlessly good looks. His curly hair that Eddie would give anything to run his hands through again, dorky glasses and even dorkier mismatched outfit. 

Eddie took a deep breath. He could do this. He was strong and could stride over to Richie’s locker, hand him the card and walk away.

Now, if his legs would just move.

He begrudgingly strode forward until he stood right next to him. Richie glanced down in utter surprise. Eddie’s courage was ebbing away gradually. He could not meet his eyes because he was scared and embarrassed. He must have looked like he wanted to melt into the ground because he did.

He let out the breathe he was holding. 

“Hey,” Eddie said softly.

“Hi.” Richie replied sadly.

The deja vu of their break up almost made Eddie turn around and run away. They had not said a word to each other since the ‘I miss you’ phone call. Hearing his voice again, even after a week and a half made Eddie’s body ache all over.

“I wanted to give you this,” Eddie held out the card quickly. “And say happy birthday.”

He gingerly took the card. “Thanks, Eds.” He said gratefully. Eddie tried to hold back tears at being called his nickname. He never thought he would crave the sound of that name on Richie’s lips.

“You’re welcome.” They stood there for a moment longer still not looking each other in the eyes. So many words going unsaid. Richie seemed ready to say more but Eddie quickly waved, “Ok. Bye.”

He turned to leave. He did not know why Richie did it but he reached forward and grabbed his hand.

The feeling was electric, like they had been hit by lightning. Eddie turned to look at their entwined hands. Richie ran his thumb over Eddie’s knuckles slowly. He lifted his silver brown eyes to meet Richie’s golden brown ones, which were gazing at him as if his heart still belonged entirely to him. And that’s all it took for Eddie to surge forward stand on his toes and kiss Richie. Their hands stayed firmly clasped together. Richie met his lips hungrily as Eddie brought his other hand to run through Richie’s hair fiercely. Eddie let the pain he had been feeling fade away to make room for this perilous thrill. Breathing in Richie, kissing him with every bit of desperation he had been missing. Deepening the kiss before he could stop himself. He didn’t care they were in the middle of the school hallway, he needed Richie with every cell in his body. He let himself be pushed against the locker as Richie sucked on his tongue. His other hand going to his back to bring them flushed together. Eddie could feel Richie’s desire and knew he felt his too. Richie moaned unashamedly.

Then Eddie's senses came crashing in to shut off the electricity. There were people gasping and talking behind Richie, probably about them. Eddie gave him one last peck on the mouth before ending the kiss. Richie leaned forward to chase his departing lips before realizing what he was doing.

Richie’s eyes were wide with pupils dilated and Eddie suspected his were too. “I shouldn’t have done that.” Eddie whispered in horror. He retracted his hand so fast his nails scraped Richie’s palm. He wiggled his way out of his grasp, then turned on his heel ready to run in the other direction.

“Eddie, wait!” Richie’s voice cracked in his haste. Eddie stopped in the middle of the hallway but he did not face him. Richie placed a hand on his shoulder, “I know you need space from me. I just want...NEED you to know that you’ll always be my best friend.”

Eddie nodded slowly trying to swallow. His throat felt desperately dry. He wished to be anywhere else but here, “You gave me the reality check that I needed.”

“Yeah, right.” Richie said half-heartedly.

Richie agreeing did not bring him solace. If anything, it brought anger and rage. He had the sudden desire to hurt Richie. Hurt him the way he had been hurt. Eddie turned around and frowned up at him, “I mean we were not a good match anyway.”

He flinched at the words. “Eddie that’s…” He looked crushed which sent a pang through Eddie but he held Richie’s gaze, “...that’s not true.”

“I have had some time to analyze everything. Your personality with mine was never going to last.” Eddie kept his face deadpan and serious. The lies seemed to come easier than they ever had for him. “Besides your parents hate me, my mom hates you. What were we expecting?”

“This has nothing to do with our parents.” He lied. It made Eddie’s blood boil to be lied too, especially by someone he loves so deeply. It was hypocritical since that’s exactly what he was doing but all rational thoughts were gone at this point.

“I always know when you are lying Richie. It’s my fault, I get it. I didn’t want to jeopardize my relationship with my mother to be fully with you.”

Richie ran his hands through his hair angrily. “God. You are such an idiot. It is none of these things!”

Eddie raised his hands up in a defeated motion. “Then what Richie?! Why did you fucking break up with me? Is it…” The secret fear Eddie had been harboring decided to come out. “...is it because you realized you wanted to be with a woman?”

“Oh my god, no! What?”

“Is it because I’m not attractive enough?”

“No! You are the most attractive thing in the world to me.” Richie yelled.

“Is it because I wouldn’t have sex with you? Cause I would have!” Eddie screamed louder.

“No, I don’t care!”

“Then why Richie?! Explain to me. Make me understand. Otherwise, there is no way we can EVER be friends again.”

“I...I…”

“SPIT IT OUT YOU FUCKING COWARD.” People had stopped to stare at the exchange. Eddie didn’t care. They could all go fuck themselves. Richie stayed silent and still. “Fine, Richie. You don’t have to explain. You are too incapable of being serious and you couldn’t fucking take a real relationship.”

“It’s not that!”

“Things get too real and Richie Tozier fucking takes off.” Richie’s eyes flashed dangerously. Eddie wanted to say ‘like his father’ but kept those words far down. He would never say that to him no matter how angry he was. “Too afraid to be in love with me. Oh that can’t be it, must be because he isn’t capable of love. Just being an asshole who doesn’t give a shit about me!”

“I AM STILL IN LOVE WITH YOU, YOU FUCKING BASTARD!” Richie face was flushed pink and his glasses had slipped to the edge of his nose from the outburst. He pushed them back up to the bridge harshly.

Eddie was frozen in shock at being screamed at. Richie rarely raised his voice, let alone truly shouted. Eddie focused on not crying at his words as he took a shaky breath. “That’s not funny. I’m done here.”

“No you aren’t. You are going to listen. I am in love with you, Eddie Kaspbrak.” 

“Please, stop.” Eddie begged as tears fell down his face. He wiped them away as best he could, trying to stay strong.

“I have never loved someone more in my entire life.” Richie had started crying too. He kept getting closer and closer to Eddie. “If it were just us on this Earth, that’s all I would need. I exist in this world for you and you for me. But I don’t deserve you.” Richie stood close but did not touch him this time.

“What the fu-”

“I am protecting you from me. It’s better we end things before they get any more serious because the last thing in this world that I w-want is for you to be hurt.” Richie was full on choking on his tears. Eddie had never seen him cry so hard. “And being the person that hurts you is unbearable.”

They were silent, staring at each other. Eddie could see heaven and hell behind Richie’s eyes. He could not think of any more to say. He did not have the strength to comfort Richie. He wasn’t even sure why he still wanted to do that.

“Well, I am hurt and there is nothing you can do to fix it.” With those last words, Eddie walked away and the worst was that Richie let him.

Eddie felt miserable for the rest of the day. When he tried to make plans with his friends to hang out and distract him, they were all busy. 

He was so desperate for a distraction, he agreed to go shopping with his mother. She needed some new clothes and she clearly wanted to cheer him up with whatever he wanted to buy. He picked out a couple sweaters and a new pair of jeans.

“This sweater is purple and red, you’re favorite colors!” His mother handed it to him. “It’ll look cute on you!”

“I’m not cute, Ma.” Eddie tried on the sweater. He looked in a store mirror and decided he liked it. His mother came behind him, looking at him thoughtfully through the mirror.

“You look more like your father every day.” She hugged him and he smiled weakly at her.

She noticed his demure meaner and concern fell on her face. “How have you been feeling, sweetheart?” 

“Fine.” Eddie mumbled.

She touched his cheek lightly, scanning his face for something. “Whatever is going on with you will pass.”

“I hope so.” He sighed.

As they were leaving the store, Eddie saw a familiar figure a couple paces ahead of them. That tall, large build made Eddie’s heart sink into his stomach. He tried to walk slower but his mother was not having it.

“Eddie! Why are you walking so slowly?” She questioned, pulling on his arm to move faster. The man in front stopped when he heard her voice and turned around to face them.

“Hello Sonia.” Wentworth Tozier drawled. His ruthless eyes went briefly to Eddie and there was a smugness in his smile. As if he knew a secret about Eddie. It made him more nervous and anxious to run away.

“Hello, Wentworth.” Eddie’s mother said tentatively. She looked to Eddie giving a stern stare that he needed to say hello.

“Mr. Tozier,” Eddie nodded curtly. He tried to pull on his mother’s sleeve to get her to keep walking, but she had already stopped to have a proper conversation.

“How is Maggie?” His mother asked stiffly. She didn’t seem to want to keep talking either but was too polite to leave. He wished she would read his body language.

“She is fine.” He said quickly.

“And your son?”

“You haven’t seen him lately?” He asked curiously that smug smile returning to his face as he glanced at Eddie again. “Doesn’t he usually hang out with your boy?”

“No, not anymore.” Eddie seethed. Wentworth’s eyes met Eddie’s as he seemed to search for the truth.

Once he was satisfied he said, “That is for the best because he is an imbecile.” 

Eddie opened his mouth to yell but closed it at his mother’s harsh stare. He wanted nothing more than to verbally attack this man. He decided to be more underhanded about it. He stood up a little taller and said, “Today’s his birthday, did you even remember?”

“And why is that supposed to be important to me?” Mr. Tozier was watching Eddie’s reactions with a sadistic enjoyment. He could feel his face turning red with rage and his fists clenched.

He was going to respond but his mother beat him to it. “Surely...you will want to do something for his birthday? Our children’s birthdays are as important as they are.”

He scoffed, “Well, it’s a good thing my son is irrelevant and will amount to nothing in life.” He sneered hatefully.

“Well, it's a shame you feel that way.” His mother said horrified at the way Mr. Tozier spoke about his son. She turned to Eddie ready to have them leave.

At that moment, Eddie forgot who was in his company. A rage that had been festering and growing was about to break through the surface. “Shut the fuck up.”

She whipped her head in his direction. “Eddie! Apologize!” Eddie ignored her, keeping his eyes locked on Richie’s father. His eyebrows knitted together, eyes becoming slits as he leered at the heartless man. His mother went to pull Eddie away and keep walking but he held his ground, refusing to move. 

Mr. Tozier straightened to his full height, the same as Richie’s and growled out, “What did you say to me?”

“Do you need hearing aids?” Eddie’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. “I told you to SHUT THE FUCK UP.”

“Eddie!” 

“How dare you speak to me like this.” He said in a deadly voice.

Eddie took a deep breath, steeling himself for the things he wanted to say. “If you spent even a millisecond getting to know your son, you would realize he is brilliant, caring, and will go very far in life.”

“My son is a hopeless degenerate.” He practically spat the last word. Eddie knew that was a crack at Richie being queer and it just made him angrier.

“Richie kills himself trying to please you. He has taken care of your wife more than you ever have. Not that you would know because you abandon your family more often than you take a piss.” Eddie snarled.

“I don’t have to listen to this insult.” He walked away but Eddie followed behind him in hot pursuit. 

“He is probably going to graduate with full honors and as Valedictorian of our fucking school next year! He is the funniest person I know and cares for everyone in his life more than his own.” Eddie had to practically run with the long strides Mr. Tozier was taking toward his car. He would run all night if that meant defending the most important person to him.

Wentworth wheeled around and Eddie almost crashed into him. He leaned forward forcing them to be nose to nose. Normally, Eddie would have backed down against a male authority. Except Wentworth wasn’t an authority, he was a villain.

“You in love with him you little fruit?” He said fruit like it was the most disgusting word in the English language.

Eddie hesitated, the smallest pause but it felt like an hour. Something flicked in Wentworth Tozier’s eyes and Eddie knew he had caught him. His grimace turned into a cruel smirk. Eddie felt a pang in his chest because it almost looked like Richie’s sneaky smile, except Wentworth’s was the nastiest expression he had ever seen.

He grabbed the front of Eddie’s shirt bringing him closer. Eddie tried to pry his hand off to no avail. “I know you are a faggot just like my son. Well, let me tell you something you disgusting little child, my son learned how to love from me and Maggie. His love will only destroy you.” 

“That’s not true.” Eddie spat. “Fucking let go of me!”

“I wasn’t always like this. I used to love so powerfully it could blow up mountains. Now, look where we are.” Mr. Tozier let go and Eddie staggered back a little.

A scream ripped through Eddie that had Wentworth speechless. “Richie’s love is stronger than yours! His love gives me life. You don’t know what love is. You never have. If you did, you would try to protect and save your son from spiraling instead of encouraging his downfall, Wentworthless!” Before Eddie could react, a hand came flying at his face. His head cracked to the side, the burning of shock hitting him like a ton of bricks. He placed his hand gingerly on his inflamed cheek and looked up. Wentworth was marching away as fast as he could go. Then, out of anger or disbelief from their confrontation, tears started prickling in his eyes.

He slowly turned around and his mother stood there. He didn’t know how much she heard, but it seemed to be enough. She had a trembling hand over her mouth and tears in her eyes. Which was the tipping point for Eddie. His own flowed swiftly down his cheeks. He raised his arms tentatively toward his mother hoping she would understand what he wanted because no words were coming out. 

She immediately wrapped him into her arms in a type of hug he had not received since he was a child. The kind that lets you know your parent is there to protect you from all the evil in the world.

Eddie heard himself saying ‘I’m sorry’ repeatedly into his mother’s neck. She was shushing him and rubbing his back. His sobs were making his breathing come in shaky and panicked.

“Let’s go home.” His mother said soothingly.

Note: Never sit on Eddie’s strength and fierceness. 

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