#would be like getting defeated by the shadow

[peachesofteal]

Simon and Johnny love a good game. 

They get bored, when they're not at work. Climbing the walls and lurking for long hours in the gym, at the bar. You can only watch so much television, can only read so many books. They try to broaden their horizons when it comes to cooking, but so far, they're slow learners. 

But games. Games can be fun. Not board games, metal pieces and paper money, folding maps and cards. No. 

Simon loves a cat and mouse game. The most dangerous game. A game that ends with catch but never release.

And Johnny's always more than happy to oblige him. He's even better at it, in a way. Simon skulks and sticks to shadows, where Johnny roams in the sun, smiling at old women and babies, chatting up whoever's behind him in the check out line. Finding a mouse is never hard for him.

Tonight’s mouse is a touch too skittish for Simon’s liking. Even though he enjoys them scared, the last one pissed herself when he threw her over his shoulder. He wasn’t a fan.

Still, Johnny likes you. Simon would never deny him, though you do throw a curveball.

You’re scared, but you’re smart. You pick up on them sooner than your predecessors, head half turned over your shoulder, clocking the shadow from the corner of your eye. Survival instincts lead you to stick to the crowded street, avoiding the left you’d usually make to head home to your apartment. You zig, cross to the other sidewalk, you zag, weaving through couples and groups of people taking their time, you have your keys between your knuckles.

You’re managing until you make the fatal error.

The train.

Why do they always think a confined, underground space is a good choice?

One time they chased a mouse through a fucking tunnel.

Made her pay for it, at least.

Simon laughs out loud, Johnny chuckling in his earpiece. “She was doin’ such a good job.”

“Just as well. I’m getting hungry for dinner.”

“Are you having fun?” Simon cocks his head, arms crossed over his chest, and you shake your head rapidly, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. His cock grows heavy, and he squeezes it over his pants, Johnny licking his lips. Fuck. He loves it when they cry.

“Fun?” You croak, confused little wrinkle in your brow. “Wh-what?” Your mouth is hanging open too, and without thinking, he rams his fingers into it, shoving them back past your tongue until you gag. Johnny clicks his tongue, strokes your jaw before cupping it, immobilizing the hinges and forcing it wide.

“Want to have a bite before we get ‘er home?” There’s another man in the same car, on the other end, watching. He hasn’t said anything, done anything, moved at all. He’s only watched. A sick fuck like the rest of them. Simon knows he won’t intervene, so he pulls his fly down. The man pretends to glance away.

“Have you sucked a cock before?” You make some awful hissing noise like a strangled cat.

“C’mon bonnie, hold still.” Simon forces himself past your teeth. You’re shaking so hard it’s like your bones are rattling, and when you stay frozen, Johnny guides you, dragging the heat of your mouth back and forth on Simon’s cock. It’s hot, and wet, and his toes curl. It’s like getting high, like a cigarette after a huge dinner. Euphoric. Satisfying.

The man at the other end of the car turns to give the situation his full attention, but not to stop him. Instead, his hand creeps down the front of his pants.

“Aww mouse, I think he likes ye.” Johnny’s cock is also hard, swollen against his thigh, and he rips your tense grip free from the seat to press it to his erection, kissing your temple. “It’ll be my turn, when we get home.” You try to jerk free, thrash, but it only forces the blunt tip of Simon’s cock deeper, and you start to gag uncontrollably. Johnny’s practically shivering with excitement.

“Don’t puke.” He grunts, fucking your face, slamming deep as he pumps his cum down your throat. You moan, eyes slipping closed. Defeated. Trampled under foot. Poor little mouse.

It’s adorable. You’re helpless. There’s too much going on, him, Johnny, the fucking creep still rubbing away at his crotch, and he feels bad. They should be taking better care at this point. They always need to butter them up before setting them free in the maze.

“Lights out, Johnny.” Fingers find those pressure points on your neck, and then the next thing they know, you’re slumped over, asleep on Johnny’s chest. What a cutie.

“Think we can keep her for a bit?” Simon rolls his eyes.

“We’ll see.”

[dykespirk]

I think both tos and aos Jim survived Tarsus. but I think tos Jim was older (15-17) and aos Jim was younger (10-12).

I think tos Jim became the de facto leader of children survivors (as we see with Kevin Riley and Thomas), because of his age. That Jim carries the survivor’s guilt of not being able to save more kids—of watching the youngest ones die (ostensibly) in his care. his coping mechanism is thus leadership—usurping and clinging to positions of authority in an effort to save others; he craves authority, wants and needs to embody it to turn it into something that would’ve saved the others, would’ve saved him. Starfleet becomes his white whale. he needs the myth of Starfleet—an intergalactic emblem of peace, carving through deep space purely to discover (and defend). he embraces starfleet’s militarism because it echoes his understanding of power (some evils need to be defeated; innocents need to be protected). Jim also loves to defend—to entrench and hold boundaries (with the Klingons, the Romulans, with any hostile life). deep space is at the same time mystical—where birth and rebirth are always possible, where miracles happen every day—and orderly, where regulations and boundaries are clearly defined. Jim finds solace and role stability in this space, defending others, acting as a father figure, and indulging in hyper-independence & isolation.

that’s how we get tos Jim, who’s desperate for connection & intimacy, but ultimately clings to his leadership role like it can sustain him—like it’s all that can sustain him. (love, you’re better off without it, and I’m better off without mine. this ship, I give, she takes��I’m the captain…I’ve lost the enterprise, I’m losing command…nothing is more important than my ship) the guardian role is essential to his self-image.

conversely, aos Jim was the child. he was the scared, too-skinny kid who had the rug ripped from under him. aos Jim is born into a world where fatherhood/authority is already dead; George Kirk’s absence is a gaping hole in his life. Starfleet’s idealism makes martyrs, but it also cannibalizes its men to sustain its ideals. George’s replacement, Frank, neglects if not abuses him. that Jim witnesses the complete breakdown of authority. he watches Starfleet come with too little, too late. he sees the older kids die. he watches his only solace from Frank’s terror, his fresh start, become a waking nightmare.

that Jim learns that no one is coming.

his coping mechanisms are withdrawal from the system entirely; to bare his teeth at it, to claw at it, to draw blood. scare them before they can scare you. act bigger than you are. appearances are everything. to distrust authority entirely. give up on Starfleet, because Starfleet is an empty vaccum that will take and take, ineffectual at its core and hypocritical at best.

instead of being defined by his attraction to space, aos Jim is defined by his inability to stay still; his distaste for Earth, for Iowa, for groundedness. for him, staying in Riverside is a kind of self-harm, one he doesn’t understand how to escape and ultimately believes he deserves.

this Jim is lonely not because he uses distance as a defense, but because he’s so distrustful of others, he genuinely can’t imagine an open hand. (enlist?)

that’s how we get the Jim that ultimately cares way more about his crew than his ship; who latches onto Bones like a leech and craves Spock; who wants connection with far less shame has absolutely no expectation of receiving it. this is the Jim that blares sabotage while charging into battle, says fuck you to the admiralty, and would rather die saving lives than live with taking them—that’s what I was raised on.

there’s also the fact that tos Jim is a Jewish man written in an era of liberal internationalist optimism underscored by the early Cold War and the shadows of the Shoah whereas aos Jim is the flashy product of peak commercialized Hollywood in a post-9/11, post George-Bush America. anyways.

[ihaveapicrewaddiction]

Thank you Naylissa for the picrew <3

The main cast of the Sonic 3 movie

[walkintomymystery]

Fall Into Me

(Set after Sonic 3 - Alternate Ending)

Defeated, world-weary, and impossibly lost, Shadow allows himself to be taken back into G.U.N custody. While they decide his fate, he is housed in a secret facility hidden deep in the heart of one of the country's National Parks. Still reeling from the heartbreaks that have shaped his life, Shadow never expected to find the closest thing to a home he'd known in over fifty years.

Pairings: Shadow the Hedgehog x Original Female Character

Warnings for this chapter: illness, anxiety, awkwardness lmao

//

Chapter Six

The patchwork quilt that lay on top of Kit’s bed had been made by Lisa’s grandmother sometime around the early 1980s. Baby clothes that were no longer needed, socks with holes too big to darn, and leftover fabric from other projects had all been cut into hexagons and painstakingly sewn together over many years.

Kit ran her fingertips over the ridges of corrugated corduroy and the soft velvet of what was possibly once an evening gown. Another family’s story. The tapestry of someone else’s life.

Lisa had gifted the quilt to her just a few days after she arrived at the base. “To make you feel more at home,” she’d said. Kit wasn’t sure what that meant anymore but it had been comforting at the time.

The longer she stayed here, the more The Hill was becoming a home. She hadn’t intended that to happen. It was always supposed to be temporary.

Kit wasn’t sure how long she thought all this would last, how long she’d be staying here before Lisa figured out where she came from. But that first week had drifted into another, then month into month. Before too long, a year will have passed. If she wasn’t careful, she’d forget she ever came from somewhere else at all.

Scowling at herself, Kit tugged Lisa’s grandma’s quilt over her, tucking the corner into her tightly clenched fist.

She was being ungrateful again, but she couldn’t help it. The thought crept into her mind and made a home before she even knew it was there, just as she had carved out a niche for herself at the Hill.

Kit rolled over to stare at the grey, speckled wall.

In an attempt to make the boxy little nook she’d been assigned a bit more homely, she’d torn pages from magazines and tacked them up on the walls, arranging them by colour so that they had the appearance of wallpaper or bright paint.

She’d even scanned in photos from her favourite books, scenic vistas from Glacier and other parks, so that she could feel surrounded by nature, even inside the base’s gloomy labyrinth. They did little to calm Kit now.

The humans were risking an awful lot keeping her here. If the powers that be discovered that there was yet another unchecked alien on the planet, living and working right under their noses, there would be trouble, not only for Lisa, but for the whole base, and everything they’d been working on, all the progress they’d made, would be lost.

Kit sighed and closed her eyes, trying to settle herself enough to sleep. But it had been another full day, and her mind whirred with all she’d seen and heard.

Shadow talked a lot more than she thought he might. If she was being honest, Kit didn’t think she’d ever get more than a few words out of him when they first met. But he’d asked questions, shown interest, even shared stories of his own. He wasn’t exactly friendly but it was a start. Maybe he was finally starting to accept that he was safe here, that The Hill really was a good place.

Kit rolled over onto her other side, feeling restless and agitated as she trawled through all that Shadow had said.

She tried to reconstruct every sentence, pausing, rewinding and replaying each moment of their time together, like her afternoon in the woods with The Ultimate Lifeform had been captured on video, and all she had to do was slot it into the VCR that Mike had once spent a rainy afternoon showing her how to use.

Shadow looked so stupid in his borrowed clothes. The greatest weapon in the galaxy, the most powerful being in the universe, and he needed her sweater to keep warm. She bit back a smile.

Kit had been so embarrassed to show him her scarf (she was still learning and not making much progress) but it had been worth it, just to see the look on his face. It really did match his eyes.

Kit turned onto her back to stare up at the ceiling.

She’d told him that his eyes were pretty. What a moron. They were, but that was completely beside the point. You couldn’t just go around telling people they were pretty- That they had pretty eyes.

Groaning softly, Kit dragged her hands down her face, pressing her fingertips into the corners of her eyes and rubbing the tiredness away until they were pleasantly sore.

She wasn’t sure what was worse, complimenting Shadow or yapping away at him like an excited kid. Kit was not a talkative person. She was not giddy and excited and unserious. Or maybe she was. Maybe she used to be. Maybe she didn’t used to be but she was now. Maybe Shadow brought it out in her. Kit didn’t know which possibility made her more uncomfortable.

“Idiot,” she muttered, letting the word float up into the darkness.

The veneer of strength she’d fought hard to maintain when they first met was surely all worn away now. Yammering on about trees and asking him question after question... It was a wonder Shadow hadn’t turned back and left her there.

He was probably just humouring her, or keeping her talking for his own amusement. But then, Kit thought, he’d lowered his mask too, allowing a little of the light behind his walled eyes to shine though.

Despite all the information readily available at her fingertips, all the horror stories and the scrawled notes from scientists either long dead or completely written off as lunatics, Shadow was still a mystery, one Kit was eager to unravel.

His eyes really were beautiful. He looked so stunned when she told him. Kit was sure no one had ever said anything like that to him before. And with good reason, idiot.

She groaned again, so embarrassed at herself that it was physically painful, and turned onto her front, hiding her face in her pillow.

The base was quiet tonight. Very few of the staff went home for the weekend; Kit wasn’t the only one who’d made a home at The Hill, after all.

Glacier was so far removed that if anyone did have the weekend off, they would need to leave early to give them enough time to travel home, so Lisa was a little frantic as she said her goodbyes and told Kit to take care of herself while she was away. She was probably already on a plane right now, heading for her parents’ house in Washington.

Lisa had shown Kit photos of her family a few times, her mother and father, her older sister and younger brother, their two old dogs and the house she grew up in. A perfect family, busy and loud and full of life.

Kit had stared at the photos, picking out Lisa’s bright eyes in her mother’s face and the height she inherited from her father. She and her siblings all looked similar too, tall and lithe and clever. Lisa so clearly belonged.

It made Kit’s heart ache to think about. Did she look like anyone? Did she have a family home? Sisters, brothers, parents, grandparents? Was someone, somewhere, missing her right now? She squeezed the quilt in her fist.

Kit wanted to belong so desperately, but the base wasn’t quite a home, and apart from Lisa, these humans weren’t quite a family, no matter how hard she tried to convince herself that they felt like one.

Only this planet felt familiar. Kit spent most of her time feeling parsed, split like the segments of a tangerine, but this world, the trees and the grass and the flowers, the bright blue sky and the sun on her face, they made her feel part of something.

She hoped Shadow might start to feel that way too. So he didn’t trust the humans, who could blame him? The Earth held a million stories, a million adventures. There were places to go, people to meet, things to try, and all of it was completely new and exciting and ready for her. Maybe for both of them.

Those eyes. She couldn’t get them out of her head. The way they lit up every room like a crackling fireplace, burning anyone who stood too close. He seemed to be warming up to her though. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

The way Shadow talked about his own home, about the ARK, left her feeling hollow inside too. From what she’d read, Kit found it hard to believe that that floating fortress could have felt warm and safe to anyone, but he had a family too. Or he used to. The notes were unclear. Either way, Kit knew they were more similar than either of them realised.

She turned over onto her back again, still feeling restless. As much as she tried to empty her mind, new concerns and intrusive thoughts kept pushing forward, demanding her attention.

Growing frustrated now, Kit tried to control her breathing. She drew in for four seconds, held it for another four, then released the air slowly, over and over until her heart was steady and her body had unwound. But still nothing worked.

Surrendering to the inevitable, Kit dragged herself from her bed with a sigh.

She dropped down at her desk and pulled her battered notebook towards her. She’d taken it from one of the labs sometime around her second week. There were pages missing and the edges were worn, but it was her lifeline.

Every time she remembered something, it went in the book. Every time she learned something new about this world or the one she came from, any glimpse of her old self, she wrote it down before it could slip away again. That’s how it began anyway.

The first few pages were made up of disjointed, scrambled half-memories and theories, but now that Kit had made herself at home, she’d tried to turn her attention to something more practical.

After every session, she jotted down everything Lisa had said, every new bit of jargon, every fascinating scientific concept, every piece of complicated equipment mentioned, anything that would help her concentrate her powers and help them flourish.

They’d been working together since Kit first arrived at The Hill. It started off as a quid pro quo, samples in exchange for a safe place to stay, but her role quickly grew as Kit became a fixture.

Now, she and Lisa worked together. The more the scientists learnt about her, the more Kit learned about herself and where she came from. Progress for them meant she was one step closer to getting home.

Kit stopped writing mid-sentence, her mind clouded with ersatz nostalgia. She couldn’t reminisce when she had nothing to return to, but though Kit could remember very little of that first night, there were some images that were stronger than others.

Fully awake now, she pushed back through the pea soup of her mind until it almost hurt, scrabbling in the dark for feelings and heightened senses that weren’t so much out of reach but completely nonexistent.

She could remember the voices of the rangers that found her swimming around her head. They had spoken in soft, clear tones but she couldn’t recall anything that was said.

She could remember a sudden bright white light, whatever had brought her here, and a pain that had bored into her head, like a corkscrew at either side of her skull. It still ached.

Through the base’s connection with G.U.N, Lisa had read voraciously about inter-dimensional travel, and had heard rumours of visitors from other worlds stepping from one planet to another as easily as hopping in an elevator. These portals were how the - What had Shadow called them?

“Mobians,” Kit said out loud, working her mouth around every syllable, trying the word out for the first time.

In the heavy silence of her bedroom, the term seemed completely foreign. It didn’t spark a single memory, not one glimpse of familiarity. Still, she scribbled it down, then underlined it for emphasis.

These portals were how the Mobians were able to come to Earth. And they weren’t subtle, they’d been noticed, they’d been accepted, and they’d been utilised.

Lisa couldn’t see why the power that brought the others here - this fox and his friends - couldn’t be the same power that brought Kit to Earth, and was sure the bright light she remembered was the ring-powered portals they moved through.

Kit turned a page in her notebook and began to describe in fine detail everything that had transpired during her session that evening.

Her walk with Shadow had left her exhausted. Kit hadn’t intended to go exploring that day but he just looked so lonely and overwhelmed, she couldn’t help it. He’d asked for help, whether he realised it or not, and Kit was his keeper. Her assignment was to keep Shadow safe, happy, and comfortable, and she was proud of a job well done.

Still, she hadn’t been able to keep back a yawn during her session with Lisa. It tugged at the corners of her mouth until it spilled over, and she had to hide it in her elbow.

Lisa looked up from her computer.

“Tired?”

It was more of a statement than a question, but Kit nodded all the same.

“We hiked for miles today. I think Shadow’s been finding the base a little overwhelming. I think maybe it… I think it reminds him of the ARK. But he seemed happier out on the trail. Well, as happy as Shadow can seem.”

Sat atop a pristine workbench, Kit swung her legs back and forth, one then the other, as she impatiently waited for their session to begin.

Embedded in her favourite chair, Lisa tapped endlessly away at her computer, her fingers dancing over the plastic keys.

“Was he chattier today?”

In the reflection of her wide, round glasses, Kit could see strings of data racing back and forth, the endless streams of code that made up her own DNA.

“His guard is still up but he answered all my questions. He still likes to give one word answers but I guess I should be grateful for that much. He didn’t put up a fight either. Actually, I think he really enjoyed being out in the woods. He said…”

Kit stopped, thinking about the story Shadow had told her, about that iridescent bloom of phytoplankton beneath the ocean. Lost in memory, his eyes had softened, his posture more relaxed. It was perhaps the most at ease she’d ever seen him, and the closest he had come to allowing her in.

“Hm? What did he say?” Lisa asked, though she didn’t appear to be listening, her attention was still on the long streams of numbers flashing before her eyes.

What he’d shared, Kit knew that was precious. Shadow didn’t talk when he didn’t want to. He didn’t give away any part of himself easily. He might not have realised it, he might not like it if he did, but he’d entrusted her with something that belonged only to him.

Perhaps a sense of duty, perhaps a force of habit, but something beckoned for Kit to tell Lisa all she’d learnt, but for the first time, Kit found there was a pull stronger than that of her saviours.

She closed her mouth, considered her options, and said,

“Mobians. He said the others like me are called Mobians.”

“Mm, that’s interesting. Did he tell you about them?”

“Not much. I didn’t want to push too far.”

In the end, Kit ended up repeating everything Shadow had told her about these other aliens, which was admittedly very little. She didn’t even know their names, though it was fairly likely Shadow didn’t either.

It was only when Lisa began to show a spark of interest that Kit realised she might’ve made a mistake. She began to ask more and more questions, pressing Kit for information she didn’t have, and all she could do was sit there, embarrassed to have so little intel.

And worse, she’d betrayed Shadow’s trust. He hadn’t asked her to keep it a secret, surely he knew everything he told her would end up in Lisa’s ear, but had she unintentionally misled him into thinking their conversation had been private? Kit wasn’t sure, and she hated not knowing, a terrible curse since she knew so little about the world.

Finally, Lisa smiled and pushed her chair away from her desk.

“Enough about him. Let’s focus on you. Have you been practicing this week?”

“A little. It gets so tiring…”

“That’s okay, you shouldn’t force yourself. I’m glad you’re taking it steady.”

Lisa dug the headset from its box and carefully placed it over Kit’s head, humming to herself as she double-checked the wires. They ran down Kit’s spine and fitted into the side of a little machine, an unimposing white box that spat out information on reams of narrow paper.

Lisa smoothed a hand down its flank as if soothing a nervous horse and pressed her fingertips into a specific point. It chirped in response, then began to growl and hum like an old printer.

Kit used to watch this process with acute fascination but she’d been through the motions so many times, she knew every step by heart.

The computer gave a few short beeps then fell into silence again. It seemed to mean something significant because Lisa nodded to herself and wrote down a few short notes.

Kit tried to see what she was writing but couldn't make it out.

She wondered how Shadow might feel about these tests, if he ever agreed to them. Once a lab rat, always a lab rat. But now he’d tasted freedom, even if only briefly, she couldn’t imagine him settling back into the role easily, not least because he trusted Lisa and her colleagues about as far as he could throw them. Which, she thought, was probably quite far when he didn’t have the bracers on.

The harness that sat on her head was heavy and agitated her ears, but Kit tried her best to ignore it. She didn't want to aggravate the computer and affect the readings.

Shadow had made fun of them again, her ears. Every time he drew attention to them, she wanted to be annoyed, but Kit was so thrilled that she’d got him to speak, to emote, anything, that she completely forgot to be offended.

With a start, she realised that when they were out on the trail, he’d called her by her name for the very first time. She hadn’t picked up on it then, but now a sudden rush of warmth swept through her, then cooled instantly, leaving Kit with a strange prickling feeling she couldn’t name.

She tried to replicate the sound in her head. Such a short name, one syllable, three letters, but Shadow’s voice was so low and warm, he added a depth and breadth to every note until it sounded rich and complex and… Beautiful.

"Your heart rate is a little fast, are you feeling okay?"

Lisa frowned at her from behind her computer, her hand resting on top of the little machine she’d hooked Kit up to.

Now that she listened, Kit realised the soft beeping coming from it mimicked her own heartbeat. Her face burned when she realised her body had betrayed her.

Kit cleared her throat and tried to brush all thoughts of Shadow from her mind, explaining it away with an exaggerated yawn.

“Just… Tired. Sorry. It’s been a long day.”

Lisa didn’t look entirely convinced but there was work to be getting on with.

Outside her bedroom, someone passed down the corridor. Clunky and quick, the steps of a guard on their way to start their shift. It must be late, the soldiers didn’t rotate until well past midnight.

Kit looked back down at the page and saw that she’d caught herself absentmindedly swirling her pen in the air, circling and circling, just barely grazing the paper so that the ink faintly surrounded where she’d written Shadow’s name.

She huffed, annoyed with herself for getting distracted, and kept scribbling down notes.

Lisa had tapped away at her computer again then turned to look at the room.

“Okay, a little warm up to help you relax. Can you move… That file over there?

Kit followed her gaze and saw a thick arch file laying on a bench across the lab. It was stacked full of papers; someone had even had to loop a large rubber band around it to keep it closed.

As easy as swatting away a fly, Kit waved her hand and lifted the binder from the counter. With a twist of her arched index finger and thumb, it cartwheeled through the air to settle gently on a bench on the opposite side of the room.

Just a few months ago, this would have caused Kit some trouble, possibly even a headache, but with Lisa’s guidance, she didn't even have to concentrate all that hard. The familiar sensation, like warm waves washing over her skin, came with relative ease now. It felt good to have this much confidence, to have full control of her own body, her own powers.

To prove she was paying attention, Kit lifted the folder again and slotted it onto a nearby shelf, tidying it away for whichever scientist had left it out.

Kit was supposed to have these sessions with Lisa a few times a week, just to keep track of her progress and monitor her vitals. It had scared her at first, but Kit understood that she was a completely foreign entity to this world. Everything about her was new and fascinating, she couldn’t blame the scientists for being so invested.

Lisa laughed and turned back to her computer screen.

“Okay, show off. Let’s try something more your speed. But tell me if it gets too much, okay? We can stop anytime. We can always try again another day when you’re not so tired.”

Guilt had dripped like poison in Kit’s gut. If she hadn’t taken Shadow on such a long hike, she wouldn’t be so exhausted. She should know her own limits. She should be more careful.

“Okay, I’m turning the machine up now, are you ready?”

Kit subconsciously slipped her fingers around the edge of the desk and gripped it tight until her knuckles began to ache. She hated this part. But she couldn’t let Lisa down.

“I’m ready.”

Lisa gave her a reassuring smile, then turned up the dial on the side of the machine.

Instantly, a sharp bolt of electricity shot through Kit’s body in less time than it took to blink. It was gone before she could register it completely but the resonant hum of energy that pulsed through her was unsettling.

Lisa leaned forward, her hand hovering over Kit’s knee. They couldn’t touch but it was nice to be reminded that she was close by.

“You okay?”

Kit’s grip on the edge of the bench tightened, her teeth clamping together as she forced her body to get used to the sensation.

This was only the fifth or sixth time that they had worked together to amplify her powers. Lisa was sure that if she pressed a little further, they would be able to unlock abilities that Kit didn’t even know she possessed.

Since Kit could remember nothing of her life before The Hill, it didn’t feel completely beyond the realm of possibility. Lisa was right to hypothesise that what was currently merely instinctual could be stretched further. Though, when she first proposed these extra sessions, Kit didn’t think it would hurt this much.

“I’m okay,” she hissed through her teeth, and forced her eyes open.

She felt a spark in the centre of her brain and knew her eyes were aglow with the purple light that pooled around her when she summoned her power. With this much energy flooding through her, she knew she could hurt Lisa if she lost control, so Kit tensed, focusing on her breathing and trying to keep everything to the centre of her body.

Lisa pulled a stack of white cards from under her desk. They were blank on one side, while the other sides showed words, colours and shapes, like the kind used to help children learn to communicate. She shuffled them, then held up a card.

“Okay, Kit. Just relax for me. Reach out and see what I see.”

So she did, for hours.

Kit stopped writing, her head suddenly feeling heavy. She could feel her eyes beginning to glaze as she recalled how it felt to have that surge of electricity shooting through her.

She had no memory of her life before The Hill, and it was painful for a lot of reasons, but none more so than the idea that all she knew, all she had to think back on in the middle of the lonely night, was the sharp burn of Lisa’s testing and the dismissive scowl of the one person on Earth who knew what it was like to be her.

With every new card, Kit focused and guessed at what could be pictured on it. Each time, Lisa made a note but never let on if she got the answer right or not.

Kit no longer felt faint every time they tried this, but it sapped all her energy. By the time Lisa ran out of cards, she felt like she’d run a marathon.

At last, Lisa smiled to herself and turned off the machine.

"Very good."

Kit sucked in a sharp breath, filling her lungs until her chest swelled under her sweater. Through the haze left by the machine, she managed to note with some small degree of pride that she didn't have a headache like she usually did after trying to tap into this power. She was getting stronger.

"Well, everything checks out fine. You’re definitely improving, Kit,” said Lisa, confirming her thoughts.

Again, Kit couldn’t help but think of Shadow, and how wonderful he’d made her name sound. His soft, deep, rich voice, his smirk as he pushed past her to take the lead, his scarlet eyes warmed by the afternoon sunlight.

“Kit?”

She looked up. Lisa had asked her a question. Hazarding a guess, Kit agreed, and this thankfully seemed to be the right answer.

Lisa hummed a happy tune to herself as she collected the data the machine had spit out, then slipped a paperclip over the corner to keep them together. She asked if Kit wanted to take a look but she declined. She was too tired to read it all and knew she wouldn't be able to understand any of it anyway.

The next test took longer and was always much tougher on her mind and body.

Lisa started the machine up again, apologising softly when Kit grunted under the strain. She picked up her cell from the desk and sent a quick message.

Just a few moments later, Iris stepped through the door and settled at the desk across from them.

“Okay, concentrate, Kit. Just close your eyes and try to relax. Empty your mind, that’s it. Don’t fight the machine, let it do its work.”

Kit tried to do as Lisa asked but the current running through her body was like sandpaper on her bare bones. She could feel the friction of every ion as they coursed through her nervous system, opening up her mind, her senses, her entire consciousness, allowing Lisa to warp them as needed.

She could still feel it now, hours later, that charge of power. It seared her muscles, leaving her twitching and twinging after every session. Lisa had once reassured her that there couldn’t possibly be any long-lasting effects, and Kit believed her, but it didn’t make the pain any easier to bear.

“Okay, you know the drill,” Lisa said. “I’m going to keep turning up the machine. Just focus on Iris.”

Kit did as she was told. She stared hard at Lisa’s colleague, trying to see past her dark hair and glinting green earrings, the freckles across her nose and her little knowing smile. Instead, she pushed through and out the other side, quieting the world around them until the same sensation that overcame her when she used her power had reached out and enveloped Iris in her mind.

“That’s it. Relax, Kit, take your time.”

The machine began to whine as Lisa cranked up its power even further.

Kit almost bit through her tongue. Straining now, she fought to keep her concentration. She was half afraid she’d put a dent in the edge of the workbench, she was gripping it so hard, so she lifted one shaking hand and tried to channel her powers to the centre of her palm.

“Tell Iris to move her hand. That’s all you have to do, Kit. Just reach out, let your mind meld with hers. Tell Iris to move her hand, just as you’re doing now.”

Something burned in the furnace of her chest, a tiny spark but it glowed white-hot. Kit tried to pinpoint it, stoke it, let it grow into something greater, but the more she tried to tighten her fist around it, the further it slipped through her fingers.

With a sharp gasp, Kit dropped her hand. She clawed for breath, rearing back abruptly, and Lisa immediately turned the machine off.

While she scanned the data it spat out, Iris rose from her chair and wrapped her cool hands around Kit’s upper arms.

“You’re okay, you’re okay. You did so good, Kit. Just catch your breath.”

Kit kept as still as possible while Iris removed the headset, frightened of incurring that awful feeling again, a pain she was sure would knock her flat if she wasn’t prepared for it.

When she was done, Lisa’s keen eyes crossed her face, studying her closely.

"You feeling okay? Be honest, Kit. We gotta make sure you’re doing alright.”

She was a lot stronger than she used to be but that didn't mean she couldn't overexert herself. There was always someone close by in case she fainted or worse, but Kit shook her head.

"I’m okay. Just winded. I’m okay, really."

It wasn’t a complete lie, she felt steady enough to talk and sit upright, but Kit barely had enough energy left to keep her body from swaying like a seasick sailor. It was difficult to keep her eyes focused for very long, and all her remaining strength was put towards not collapsing into an exhausted heap.

While Iris checked her over properly, Lisa slid the data into a thick manila folder with Kit’s name printed on the front. She went to a tall filing cabinet, selected a drawer, then slotted it between several others.

Kit kept meaning to ask where all this information had come from, but she was always too tired after her sessions to care.

In all honesty, there were some days she wished she didn’t have to go through with it all. She trusted Lisa and her colleagues with her life, but the tests had only gotten more strenuous over the past few months. What was once just a study of her abilities was now a heavy scientific scrutiny, testing her limits, breaking down barriers, and pushing her further and further every time.

But, Kit reminded herself as she put her notebook away and wrapped herself up in the warm darkness of her room, she was being ungrateful again.

If it weren’t for the rangers that found her, she wouldn't have made it through the night. If it weren’t for Lisa and her colleagues, she would never have discovered this wonderful planet and all it had to offer. She would do anything they asked, for as long as they asked. It was the least she could do. She just wished it didn’t make her sick to her stomach to think of letting them down.

She couldn’t even guess how many times Lisa had reassured her that there was absolutely no possibility of failure. They were breaking new ground every day, she said, there was no yardstick to judge their progress by. Still, the pressure grew with every unsuccessful attempt to strengthen her power. Kit didn’t want to let them down. She couldn’t let them down.

Sighing heavily to herself, Kit turned onto her side and firmly shut her eyes, as if that would ensure she slipped off to sleep faster. When that didn’t help, she tried to picture her waterfall in her mind.

She was pleased that Shadow seemed to like it there. It seemed odd to think that someone who was raised around humans had never been to Earth before. This must all be so strange for him.

Though she’d been given very little warning before his arrival, Kit thought it might be a relief to have Shadow here. But he was as close to being similar to her as Lisa was. Just another reminder that she was completely and utterly alone, despite the countless people that surrounded her in this hive-like building.

Shadow wasn’t quite Mobian, but he wasn’t human either. He lived somewhere in-between, completely unique in the universe. If she felt lonely, Kit couldn’t imagine how he must feel.

Finally, her body began to grow heavy, her breathing slowing like the soft ins and outs of the ocean.

The base was silent, the forest beyond fast asleep. The world slowed to a still, like all the flakes in a snow globe finally settling.

Kit had just begun to slip away when her ear twitched. Grimacing, she ignored it and pressed her head closer to the pillow. Then she heard it again, a sharp groan.

Kit opened her eyes.

The base was always noisy as evening fell. It wasn’t uncommon for her to have trouble falling asleep, not with the cacophony all around her. But there was always a point when the humans finally settled in for the night, and peace fell all around her at last. So she waited, lazily twisting her ear to try and catch the sound again.

When nothing came, Kit sighed and closed her eyes, grumbling under her breath.

She wasn’t going to get out of bed for a snoring soldier, or worse, two humans finding themselves with a few spare minutes and a block of unassigned quarters. Those nights were the longest; Kit often had to put her head between two pillows. But then she heard it again, a low groan, followed by a short, sharp gasp of pain.

Listening closer, Kit picked out the slow, steady heartbeats of the sleeping humans around her. Then, amongst them all, she could hear Shadow’s trembling heart. Faster, harder, smaller, it stumbled and shook out of rhythm, so discordant among all the rest that Kit was able to hone in on it in moments.

She sat up. Lisa’s quilt slid off her and slipped onto the floor but Kit hardly noticed. She listened hard, separating Shadow from the world in her mind until she could practically see the outline of him.

Kit felt her stomach drop when she realised she could hear him crying. He quieted again, and for a second she thought maybe she was mistaken. When he whimpered in pain again, Kit was out the door before she even realised what she was doing.

She raised her first to knock on his door. Now that she was closer, she could hear Shadow tossing and turning on his bunk. His strangled, agonised cries clawed in Kit’s chest. No time for courtesy.

“Please don’t kill me,” she whispered, and pushed open the door.

The room was completely dark. Kit had to narrow her eyes against the gloom to make out any recognisable shapes at all, but then she saw him, twisted at an odd angle on his bed.

“Shadow?”

Kit took a tentative step forward, allowing light from the corridor to pour into the room. She gasped when she saw him properly. Shadow’s arms and legs were bent in awkward positions that didn’t seem like they should have been possible. His back bent and his jaws hung open in a silent scream.

He twisted his head towards her, his eyes burning through the darkness. Shadow growled, his bared teeth telling her to not come any closer, but his expression contorted with agony as his body spasmed.

“Shit.”

Kit rushed to the bedside, her hands hovering over his trembling form.

“Shadow, what’s wrong? Tell me. Let me help.”

But he just groaned and turned his face away, hauling his body round to face the wall. One of his hands flew up and gripped the cold concrete, his fingertips dragging uselessly against its smooth surface.

“Shadow, please…”

Kit hesitated then tucked her fingers over his waist, pushing down so that he lay flat on his back again. If she hadn’t been so terrified, she might’ve noticed that it was the first they’d touched where they weren’t trying to hit each other.

Shadow tried to speak, probably to tell her to leave him alone, but the words caught in his constricted throat. Instead, he flung out his hand and gripped her wrist with what little strength he could muster.

Startled, Kit jumped but surprised herself when she didn’t instinctively pull out of his grip and step away. She let out a shuddering breath, ears flat to her skull, and rested her other hand over his.

“What happened? Tell me. Let me help. Please, Shadow, let me help.”

He yanked her closer so that she was bent over the bed, hovering above him. Now Kit could see that he’d sweated through his fur. His teeth were bared against the pain, twin fangs gleaming in the darkness.

“Shadow, please,” Kit squeezed his fingers, then rested her free hand on his heaving chest, right over where his heart was hammering. “Tell me what to do. What do you need?”

His eyes, wide with fear, locked with hers. The moment seemed to stretch into hours as Shadow’s frantic gaze crossed her face, determining if it was safe to trust her with this, with him.

He was panting now, his chest ragged beneath her hand, and it occurred to Kit that he was afraid, afraid of her, of what she might do to him now that he was inescapably vulnerable. The thought made her feel sick but then Shadow’s larger hand tightened around her wrist.

He couldn’t get the words out, so he raised her hand in front of his face and slipped his index finger down to tap against her bracer.

“What are you-”

Realisation hit her like a lightning bolt, crackling through her mind and down through every nerve ending.

The bracers. They were designed to cut them off from their powers. Shadow had been feeling weak and lethargic ever since they were slipped over his-

Kit pulled their entwined hands closer to her face so that she could study the gold ring that stayed snapped around Shadow’s wrist at all times.

The two around his ankles had some off with his boots, but the bands around Shadow’s wrists were impossible to remove, even after the soldiers knocked him out in the back of his transport van. Instead, they simply adapted his bracers to fit around them. The effect was unchanged, or so they thought.

They still knew very little about Shadow’s creation but Kit had trawled through Dr. Robotnik’s notes so many times, she practically knew them by heart. The rings stabilised Shadow’s powers, limiting the potential energy that surged through his body. He would burn like a furnace without them. His power was unlike anything ever seen before, and understood by so few. And they’d interfered.

Kit’s wide eyes met Shadow’s again. She knew what she had to do but it terrified her.

He squeezed her wrist hard enough to bruise, even through her bracer. Then to her shock, he opened his mouth and in a hoarse voice, he said,

“Kit… Please…”

Tears pooled in the corners of his scarlet eyes, extinguishing the flame that burned behind them.

His words dripped like ice water onto the hot panic in her chest, sizzling and evaporating on impact but ultimately cooling her resolve. She was his keeper. It was her job to keep him safe, by any means.

“Just- Just hold on. I’ll be right back.”

Kit rested his hand on his chest, trying to look more reassuring than she sounded, then turned on her heel and burst back out into the corridor.

The base was never completely dark, but as the sun set, they dimmed the fluorescent lights to follow its progression and stopped when there was just enough light to see by. To aid the inhabitants, small bulbs triggered by motion sensors were embedded along every corridor, lighting the way of anyone heading to working in the middle of the night.

Kit followed their amber eyes as she sped through the base, taking corner after corner until she finally arrived at the elevator. She jammed her thumb against the down button so hard that it stung.

The wait was agonising, and when the doors finally pinged open on the first floor of labs, Kit rushed forward so quickly, she tripped over her own feet.

She found Lisa’s lab and grabbed at the handle, yanking it so hard that it almost broke off in her hand. But it didn’t budge.

“What?”

Kit gaped at the door handle and tugged again with more precision, thinking that she just hadn’t twisted it properly in her haste. She pulled again, and again and again until the handle rattled in protest.

“No no no no no…”

Kit stood on her toes and pressed her barred fingers to the narrow window in the door, peering inside to see if there was anyone still working. The lights were all out. The labs were empty.

Bile rose up in her throat but she swallowed it down, forcing herself to stay calm.

Reason urged her to find help but there wasn’t time. Shadow could be lying dead on his bunk for all she knew. She pushed the thought away, gritting her teeth.

Kit thought all her noise might’ve alerted a soldier by now but a quick scan around found that no one was coming. In a base full of hundreds of armed guards, they chose now to give strange noises the benefit of the doubt.

Kit turned back to the door. There was one final option but it was a stupid one, one that would definitely get her in trouble.

“Fuck it.”

Kit took a few steps back then lifted both hands out in front of her. Scowling at the object in her way, she bent her fingers in towards her palms, then sharply tugged her elbows back.

The door screeched as it was wrenched off its hinges, buckling under the hazy purple glow that consumed it. Kit swept her hands to the side and the door followed, smacking into the wall opposite and leaving a huge dent.

She didn’t waste any time, she could worry about the repercussions of her actions when Shadow was alive and well.

Kit ducked under Lisa’s usual workbench and grabbed for the box where she knew the remote for their bracers was kept, then she hurried across the labs to one of the tall lockers and pulled down Shadow’s shoes. They were heavier than she expected, she almost tripped as she turned to leave the labs.

The filing cabinet in the corner caught her eye. She paused. Kit had never been in the labs alone before, she was always accompanied by Lisa or Iris or one of the other scientists. This might be her only opportunity to discover what else was in her file. But the ache to know what her adopted family really thought of her was once again drowned out by the promise she’d made to herself, to Shadow.

When Kit made it back to his room, Shadow was completely still apart from the ragged rise and fall of his ribcage. The blaze of white fur on his chest was matted with sweat and his eyes were screwed shut.

“Shadow? Shadow, I got it, I got it. Don’t worry, I’ve got you. I’m gonna help you.”

His jaw was so tight, she was worried Shadow would break his teeth, so she gently placed her hand against his cheek, hoping it would help him relax.

Shadow’s eyes shot open. Though pain had dulled their spark, they still seemed to glow in the darkness, lighting her way, drawing her in.

“It’s okay, it’s alright. I’ve got you, I promise,” she said softly, brushing her thumb against his warm cheek.

Shadow blinked back tears. He seemed so frightened, Kit didn’t know what to do, so she ran her fingers through the soft fur between his ears, massaging his head gently. She thought he might pull away, maybe even fight through the pain to growl at her to get off, but he didn’t.

Kit dropped the remote on the bed beside him, then moved down the bed. Shadow kept a watchful eye but he didn’t move to stop her.

“Stay still for me. Don’t move just- Just breathe.”

She knelt one knee on the mattress and carefully pulled off the thick woollen socks he’d taken to wearing to keep warm around the base. To her surprise, the red markings that ran like stocking seams up the side of his calves continued down to his feet. His colouring was so unusual, so precise, unlike anything found in the natural world. Kit had never seen anyone so alien, not even when she looked in the mirror.

It was a resounding reminder that his existence had been sketched out, blueprinted, meticulously designed and thought over for many years, more like a luxury car or a marble sculpture than a living breathing creature. Every cell of Shadow’s body had been cultivated, selected, and slotted together for a purpose, right down to the colour of his fur.

And yet, despite all the care and craftsmanship that had gone into his creation, nobody had stopped to think about how it would feel to be him. Without his aids to ease the strain, his body ceased to work. They gave him this Mobian form knowing full well it wouldn’t be able to contain the power that burned within him.

And now they were all gone, these scientists who liked to twist and shape nature to their own will, taking all culpability with them and leaving Shadow alone, in chronic pain and with so little understanding of his own body. It was almost too much to bear.

“Oh, Shadow… I’m so sorry…”

Biting back tears of her own, Kit slipped his heavy shoes over his feet. She jumped back when the gold bands immediately snapped into place around his ankles.

Shadow gasped for air, his whole body jolting.

Kit thought she heard a faint, almost mechanical whine as the rings warmed to life, but it was swallowed up by Shadow’s pained moans.

“Okay, just a few more seconds. Hold on, Shadow.”

She scrabbled for the remote and stared at the dial in its centre. She’d never held it before, she’d never even got close to it. She looked down at Shadow, then at her own bracers. Was she really doing this?

Shadow grabbed his head in both hands, groaning and seizing as another shockwave punched through his body, and Kit made her decision. She twisted the dial, then slammed her palm down on the red button.

The effect was immediate. His bracers whirred for a moment then fell completely silent.

Shadow sucked in a breath of air so deep, his back lifted off the bed. He sat bolt upright, his head tilted towards the sky, his jaw slack. It was like watching someone burst through the ocean surface and gulp down oxygen after coming dangerously close to drowning.

Shadow fell back onto the bunk so hard that its bolts rattled. He lay completely still, his eyes wide and unseeing, as if stunned.

Kit dropped the remote and tugged his leather gloves out from under his inhibitor rings, gently laying his hands back down at his sides when she was done. The deep red markings that ran along his forearms continued down to his middle and index fingers, the rest black as pitch. They ended in pointed black claws, much longer and sharper than her own.

A soft groan recaptured Kit’s attention. Shadow had closed his eyes now, his forehead creased as if he was concentrating on a complicated equation or was battling the mother of all migraines.

She realised she’d been holding her breath and heaved a quiet sigh, pushing away the fear that had bitten at her heels all the way down to the labs. He was alright. He was going to be alright.

Though Kit didn’t want to leave him, she went to the bathroom and brought him a cup of water and a damp flannel.

When she returned, Shadow was watching her, his head turned into the pillow so that only one of his eyes was visible, the other firmly closed. He was always so poised, to see him looking so scruffy and dolice seemed strange. It was almost cute.

Slowly and carefully, Kit slipped her hand under Shadow’s head and helped him sit up a little, her lip twitching in discomfort when his sharp quills poked her palm.

“I’ve got you. I promise, I’ve got you. Just breathe, Shadow.”

Kit helped him take a sip or two of water then gently laid his head back down against the pillow. She laid the damp flannel across forehead, hoping the cool water would help soothe his aching body.

A completely involuntary sigh slipped from Shadow’s mouth as he sank into the bed. He blinked a few times before slowly losing his grip on consciousness. By his sides, his clenched fists slowly relaxed into an open-palmed surrender.

Kit watched him, frozen with fear still. Her heart was hammering so loud, she was sure even Shadow’s neighbours must have been able to hear it. She clutched the cup of water in her hands, squeezing it so hard she almost cracked the glass.

“Okay…” She drew in a calming breath and slowly let it go again, trying to process all that had just transpired. “Okay… We’re okay… We’re okay…”

She placed the cup of water down on his nightstand and went to close the door, never once taking her eyes off Shadow. He still hadn’t moved. The only sign that he was still alive was the soft rise and fall of his chest. He looked smaller when he slept. Younger. Less like The Ultimate Lifeform, more like a lonely creature from somewhere far, far away.

Still no one came. Everyone was fast asleep.

She should find Iris. She should call Lisa. She should tell someone. But Kit knew they wouldn’t let her stay, and she couldn’t be sure they would know what to do with him anyway. It was her job to take care of Shadow, and Kit always did what her family asked of her.

She went back to her room and grabbed a few blankets and Lisa’s quilt, and settling them down on the floor beside his bed, she curled up and tried to get some sleep. She lay facing Shadow, just in case he stirred in the night or needed anything. But he didn’t make a sound.

She stayed there all night, drifting in and out of sleep, listening carefully for the soft but constant beat of Shadow’s heart.

/

When morning broke, Kit blearily went to find Iris.

She was already waiting for her at the lab, looking severely unimpressed by the state of the door. Before Kit could apologise, Iris let her know that they’d watched everything on the CCTV and that she’d called Lisa. She’d be heading back to base a day early.

The anxiety that followed rolled mercilessly through Kit’s body, making her shiver constantly and have to swallow back a sickness that couldn’t be abated.

To distract herself, she stayed in Shadow’s room and kept him company. He still hadn’t moved but Iris had done a few rudimentary tests and they were sure he was stabilising.

Kit sat with her back against Shadow’s bed, the soft in and out of his breathing a welcome break from the usual clamour of the base. His room was right at the end of the corridor, so fewer people walked by, and since everyone knew the Ultimate Lifeform was sleeping nearby, most kept their distance and their voices low.

Shadow hadn’t made any moves to make his room more personal, though that wasn’t exactly surprising. Kit gazed around at the space, noting that everything was in its place and practically untouched. It was hard to believe anyone had been living here at all.

She opened the wardrobe and found the clothes they’d found for him all hung up or folded, his shoes in a neat row on the floor. The only thing that seemed out of place was the shirt he’d slung over the CD player on his bedside table.

Kit frowned at it. She’d chosen it herself from all the junk left behind by past employees. She thought Shadow might like to listen to some music, or maybe even a late night panel show, anything to pass the time or keep him company since he wasn’t exactly the sociable type.

She hung up the shirt and switched on the radio, turning it right down so that she wouldn’t disturb Shadow, then went to sit back down by his bed and scribble in her notebook.

Kit attempted to write down all that had transpired in the last few hours, but found herself distracted by the torn look on Shadow’s face as he reached out to her. Before too long, she came back down to Earth only to realise that she’d started tracing a rough sketch of his eyes on the next page. She closed the notebook with a snap, cheeks burning.

When Lisa finally got back to the base on Sunday night, she leaned against the doorway of Shadow’s room and gazed around at the monotony of it all, before her gaze finally landed on their guest.

“He still hasn’t woken up?” she asked.

Beside her, Kit stood anxiously twisting her hands one over the other.

“Not yet. Sometimes he talks in his sleep but…”

Lisa hummed, and Kit wondered if she’d even truly heard her. She stood in silence for a moment, clearly thinking hard, and all the while Kit fidgeted and tried to keep her breathing steady.

Finally, Lisa turned and headed back out into the hall, gesturing for Kit to follow her.

“What on Earth were you thinking?”

“I’m sorry, but he-”

“Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? He could have killed you!”

Stunned, Kit shook her head.

“I don’t think he would ever do that, Lisa, he’s not-”

“If he hadn’t blacked out, he would have knocked you flat and broken out of here in a heartbeat, Kit. Who knows how many people could’ve gotten hurt! Not to mention all our work here! Down the drain. Gone. He doesn’t care about you or anyone. He’s a machine, Kit. A weapon. You can’t just-”

Lisa stopped and pinched the bridge of her nose, pushing her glasses up to her forehead.

She was wearing a new knitted sweater. Hand-made, Kit thought. Probably a gift from her mother, the family she’d dragged her away from.

Kit balled her hands into fists and pressed them against her chest as she apologised, her head bent low.

Lisa sighed and knelt down so they were more at eye-level. She put a hand on Kit’s shoulder and pulled her into a hug that was a little too tight.

“Don’t ever do anything like that ever again, okay? You’re too valuable to lose, Kit. You mean so much to us.”

She kept talking, scolding her and lecturing her on how stupidly dangerous it was to let Shadow out of her sight, let alone to switch off his bracers, but Kit was hardly listening. Instead, her gaze had found its way back to Shadow over Lisa’s shoulder.

“What now?”

/

“Bus driver, please look for me, 'cause I couldn't bear to see what I might see. I’m really still in prison and my love she holds the key…”

Maria was dancing, always dancing. No matter how much the doctors warned her or how her grandfather worried, she couldn’t hold still for a second. She always said she spent so much time in a hospital bed, when she was feeling better, she didn’t want to waste a single second of it when there was so much fun to be had.

“A simple yellow ribbon's what I need to set me free…”

As she sang along to the record spinning in the corner of her room, she reached for Shadow’s hands, forcing him to his feet and making him twirl around with her.

Maria laughed and laughed, and Shadow couldn’t help smiling too.

“I wrote and told her, pl-”

A gunshot rang out. A bullet he should have seen smacked into Maria’s chest from somewhere over his shoulder.

Shadow opened his eyes and stared up at the pale grey ceiling. For a few moments of blissful peace, he didn’t know where he was and he didn’t care. But then the world came crashing back down around his ears, and the last awful confusing few years of his life rushed up to greet him like a blistering gale.

Shadow slowly turned his head. He had to bite back a groan as every single one of his muscles screeched like rusted metal.

The music from his dream drifted around the room. Had it stirred his memories? Or was this just life now? Exhaustion, nightmares, and loss? Except, now that he put his sluggish mind to it, he didn’t feel quite so terrible anymore.

Shadow closed his eyes as his senses slowly returned to him. Sounds were sharper, scents were heightened and his vision was clearer. He felt better than he had in weeks. If he didn’t feel like he’d been hit by an eighteen-wheeler, he’d think he was back to his usual self.

He turned his head further and saw that the shirt he’d covered the arcane machine on his bedside table was gone. Not a complicated piece of surveillance equipment, but a music player.

Humming caught his attention. Shadow’s eyes dropped to the floor where Kit was lying on her front, scribbling in a notepad while she softly sang a duet with Tony Orlando. She’d clearly made herself at home. How long had he been asleep? How long had she been sleeping beside him?

His memories slowly came back to him in bits and pieces. The agonising sickness that had followed him for days had only grown worse until he lost all control of his body. He’d spent what felt like hours seizing and twitching on his bed, whimpering pathetically until Kit finally heard him and came to his rescue.

He couldn’t recall anything that was said but Shadow remembered how her hands had gently pressed into his body, and how fearful Kit looked as she waited for the bracers to-

The world stopped revolving. Shadow spread his fingers and felt the unlimited power of the universe surge through his blood. It crackled and growled like bottled lightning, and when he sat up on his bunk, he felt the planet begin to turn again at his command.

He held up his hand and let the raw energy that was and his alone gather and pool in the centre of his palm.

Kit was beside him in seconds. To his shock, she grabbed his outstretched hand in both of her own and pulled it to her chest, as if covering it from prying eyes.

“Nonono, please don’t,” she whispered frantically, wrapping her hands tighter around his fist.

Shadow yanked his hand back, pulling Kit with it so that she almost fell into his lap. He leaned in close, eyes burning, and bared his teeth.

“Why shouldn’t I?”

It must have hurt but she didn’t let go. Even when a bolt of crimson lightning zigzagged down his arm and up hers, Kit meekly cried out but didn’t budge.

“Please, Shadow,” Her eyes darted around as if she was afraid someone might step into the room any minute. “They let me keep them switched off but I had to promise them you weren’t going to hurt anyone or try to escape.”

“What are you-”

“Please. Please just- Just don’t. I understand, I promise I understand but please don’t. I promised and they- If they think I-”

“Kit?”

She sounded so frantic, it made Shadow falter. Kit’s eyes were wide and frightened, her grip tight around his hand. He leaned back a little, trying to process what she’d said.

“I can’t let them down. I can’t let them think I lied. I don’t have anywhere else to go, Shadow, please don’t.”

“I won’t. I’m not.”

Slowly, cautiously, he relaxed his fist.

In return, Kit took her hands back, immediately pressing them flat against her chest as if to try and steady her racing heart and shaky lungs.

Shadow tried to speak but his mouth still felt dry and sore from lack of use. He couldn’t even guess at how long he’d been asleep, it felt like another fifty years had passed.

“You… You made them turn my bracers off?”

“I turned them off.”

“What?”

“You don’t remember?”

“No, I- How?”

“I heard you crying and you looked so- I didn’t know what to do, so I tore the door off the lab and grabbed the- But you’re okay. That’s what’s important.”

“You tore the- Kit, what happened?”

“I couldn’t let you- I had to save you.”

They stared at each other, both anticipating a fight but nothing came.

Eventually Shadow looked down at his wrists and found that his bracers had ceased their incessant low buzz. He looked back up at Kit. She was still breathing heavily, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

She’d risked everything for him. This base, these people, were all she had, and she’d gone against them to save him.

Shadow let his eyes dart across her face, then down to where her hands balled up the front of her sweater. What punishment had been dealt to make her so frightened? What had she promised them to protect him?

Music still drifted from the device beside his bed, something more uptempo now, nothing he recognised.

He went to ask what the scientists had planned for him but before he could, Kit lurched forward and punched his shoulder. It didn’t hurt at all but Shadow was so surprised, he clutched the spot she’d hit.

“Wh- Hey!”

“You idiot!” Kit jabbed her forefinger against his sternum. “I knew there was something wrong. Why didn’t you tell me? It’s my job to take care of you.”

Taken-aback, Shadow rubbed at his chest. Actually, that did hurt a bit. He was still feeling a little tender. He’d rather die than let Kit know that though.

“I don’t need you t-”

“You could have died,” Kit barrelled over him. “And you got me in trouble. I worked hard to get where I am, Shadow. I won’t have you ruining everything because you were too proud to tell me you were sick. Next time, tell me when something is wrong or else, I swear-”

“What?”

Shadow narrowed his eyes, challenging her.

Kit hesitated. Her pained expression softened as her ragged chest slowed to a regular rhythm.

He couldn’t remember the last time someone had been mad at him for putting himself in danger. Probably the doctor, scolding him for letting Maria overexert herself when she was supposed to be resting. He felt just as terrible as he did then. Though he didn’t trust Kit, he didn’t relish upsetting her either.

“Just don’t ever do that to me again,” she said, then in a smaller voice, “Promise me.”

His lip twitched, instinctively curling back in a dismissive sneer, but Shadow clamped his teeth over it and swallowed it down. Clinging onto some semblance of his protective apathy, he nodded without meeting her gaze.

This seemed to satisfy Kit as she dropped it.

Only then did she notice that she was still leaning over him from where he’d yanked her closer. One of her hands had shot out to grab the headboard and Kit’s knees were pressed against his thigh. She sheepishly moved back and Shadow turned his face away to hide how his cheeks burned.

Kit sat on the edge of the bed, curling her fingers around the edge of the thin mattress.

She looked exhausted, and Shadow was finding it harder and harder to pretend that he didn’t care. He wondered how many nights she had spent on his floor, keeping watch over him while he slept. The vulnerability of sickness terrified him but if there was anyone he wanted looking after him, it would be Kit.

Silence filled the room, broken only by the cheery voice of someone called Casey Kasem. He announced the next song, and Shadow looked up when he actually recognised it. Another of the records that was constantly played in that little corner of the ARK that had been home.

“Who’s Maria?“

His heart flew up into his throat. Shadow whipped his head back to face Kit and found her looking down at her hands, knotted anxiously in her lap.

”You said her name. In your sleep. A few times.” Kit’s ear flicked nervously. “Is she your friend?”

Shadow turned his face away again, pretending to listen to the radio. His chest constricted till it was difficult to catch his breath.

“She’s no one,” he said quietly, and for once, Kit left him alone.

They both stared into space, letting silence well up inside the room until it pressed against the walls, making the metal and concrete creak. Neither knew quite what to say, or what to do now.

At last, Shadow turned and leaned his weary body against the wall, letting his head fall back until it rested comfortably. He closed his eyes, sighed, then opened them again.

“Thank you,” he said, quiet and unsure but no less sincere.

Kit’s large ears twitched in surprise. After a moment, she gave him the ghost of a smile and turned the radio up.

“Any time, handsome.”

//

Next Chapter

Master List

//

Tag List:

@star-maker-rain-dancer @your-arm-is-minty-fresh @anniesangel-universe @ur-non-local-weirdo @gadgettheraccoon @mxauthor @triasticalwarlock @your-nameno13 @notsogoofyjelly @starheart-blog @phoenixqueen3 @damnfeelings09 @fernstarsblog

[trollhunted]

Oh boy, now that I'm done with the rewatch it's time to air out some of the grievances I have with the writing choices made regarding the antagonists...

Starting off a little more positive – Merlin's portrayal worked fairly well overall as this arrogant manipulative old jerk of a wizard, who may have noble goals but achieves them via not so honorable methods in the name of the greater good.

It was a pretty good bait-and-switch with the way the show had built up this image of the mysterious and benevolent mage, but left enough hints to his true character via little details that quickly turn sour in hindsight once you've actually met him. He's not a villain, but they did make him a decent morally gray character in the few episodes he's around.

However, I think he should've been held more accountable for his actions and behavior, especially when his grand plan doesn't work out because he was too wrapped up in his own head to see the truth.

That leads me to Morgana, the big evil "mastermind" of the show. I have to say, I love how utterly unhinged they made her in the first half of season 3, though she loses some of that by the end of it. I don't really have many complaints about her as a villain, but rather like to nitpick aspects surrounding her character and some missed potential.

Design-wise I find her a little lackluster as someone called "the Eldritch Queen" and while it definitely was a fun idea to contrast Merlin's dark armor with all that gold, I believe they missed the mark a little. They should've gone a step further and contrasted the design even more by giving it a creepy and organic direction. Her "armor" could've been more insectoid and reminiscent of bones or dead wood.

Also, a small thing that always bothers me are the green accents on her, when that was being established as Merlin's color. It does connect them visually in a way, but mostly just feels out of place to me. Now, about that missed potential...

As a queen of shadows, I would've liked if they'd played up her insidious nature a little more. As Claire, instead of immediately trying (and badly failing) to kill the Trollhunter, they should've dragged out the possession a little. She could've used this position to destroy the team from within, test their limits, tear them apart to weaken their will, only to have it all backfire with how much they trust and care for each other. It would've paralleled Angor's approach, because considering his background, he must've picked up these methods from someone, no?

Another writing point that bothers me is her imprisonment. No matter how you look at it, sealing an ancient evil sorceress inside (or even near) the heartstone – a MAJOR source of pure energy – just sounds like an all around bad idea. Wouldn't it make sense for her to feed on that energy? And even if not that, shouldn't you be worried about her corrupting it??

I get that from an animation standpoint it's an extremely convenient way to have everything happening in one place, so you don't actually have to set up so many new assets, but man... it's just kind of stupid lol.

Honestly the way I would've rationalized this whole deal is: instead of having her sealed up in Arcadia Oaks, California of all places (why did they even end up there?) she could've been imprisoned within the previous Trollmarket in europe. Her and Gunmar have tried to bring about the Eternal Night before and almost succeeded, which led to the battle of Killahead, where both were sealed away.

Imagine Gunmar and his forces had taken the old Trollmarket and used its heartstone for that spell, draining it in the process. Although they were stopped and defeated, Trollmarket was destroyed and their rock of sustenance dead, which would prompt the trolls to leave and seek a new home across the globe.

Merlin could've trapped Morgana in the empty heartstone as a way to contain her powers, using the last of his magic. Maybe the reason he was so sure she would be weak and easy to vanquish after her imprisonment is because he had intended to slowly syphon her energy to empower himself and never considered that she would figure out how to reverse the spell to drain him instead.

And to add some flavor to this location, Morgana's presence could've twisted the old Trollmarket into something eery and barely recognizable, giving others reason to avoid this place. It could've served to show the heroes what may become of their beloved Trollmarket if Gunmar wins, given them more incentive to fight for what they have.

That's just an idea though.

Angor Rot was always a big pot of missed potential to me and his return in season 3 just ended up feeling, well, hollow lol. He was introduced as a great antagonist but in my honest opinion kinda fell off the moment they destroyed his soul and just turned him into an angry beast. Besides the overall bad taste it leaves behind, we really didn't need a Bular 2. And it's a little annoying they somewhat continued with that direction even when he was revived and supposedly got his soul back.

I like that they cared enough to dig a little into his conflicting emotions given his history & enslavement, but these moments should've been brought up in the climax of the first season. He should've regained his soul back then and suddenly be forced to reconcile with the atrocities committed in the name of his mistress. His revenge on Strickler should've conflicted with his newly regained conscience...

And, oh man, Strickler is a bit of an annoying case. It's kind of absurd to me that they would choose to give this man an easy "redemption" while tossing around Angor's corpse like that.

Angor Rot literally had his soul and autonomy taken from him and while these actions definitely twisted him throughout the ages, at the end of the day it was never his choice. Strickler was in a somewhat similar situation as a changeling made to serve Gunmar, but the major difference is that he did have a choice. Multiple even.

Even in his predicament, Angor chose to offer the Trollhunter a deal to free both of them of Strickler's control. Whether he actually would've honored that deal is hard to say, but I think even if he'd betrayed Jim's trust, it would've made for a good opportunity to speak of who he used to be and what he's become, and have his first real choice in centuries be to spare them.

Strickler on the other hand is far more vile and self-serving at his core. At first you could argue that it's mostly the (very real) threat of Bular breathing down his neck that pushes him to harm Jim despite his soft spot for the kid. But when both Bular and Gunmar are out of the picture, instead of using this freedom constructively, he doubles down on killing the Trollhunter while finding every opportunity to get under his skin.

This man literally chooses to continue beefing with a teenager and don't get me wrong, I love it. Comedy aside, it is genuinely a fun exploration of his character and what makes him work as a complex personal antagonist. But the fun quickly stops when they try to rush him into a lackluster "redemption arc" to get him on the main team.

I'm aware that tons of people love the stricklake pairing and "lady x monster man" is very much a del Toro staple, but I really don't think Strickler should've been "redeemed" given everything he did, there should've been FAR more serious repercussions. It would've made more sense to me to put him in a "reluctant, not entirely trustworthy, sort-of-ally" position than suddenly have him be one of the Good Guys because... romance?

Not to mention the quality of their writing and characterization took quite a dip to mend their relationship and make said last minute romance happen. The drama surrounding it was cheesed up to such a degree it felt like they were putting on a play and didn't tell anyone.

Nomura's turnaround makes perfect sense narratively speaking because she was a straight-forward, impersonal antagonist, who only began to sympathize with the enemy when they were forced into the same position and she had nothing left to lose. She probably gave Jim a few nightmares, but the Lakes don't have anywhere near the number of reasons to hate her as they should with Strickler.

Oh and on the topic of changelings, let's get to the Janus Order. In my honest opinion, I think the Order was an overall waste. What made the changelings fun to me was precisely how they jumped between playing human and the cruel brutality of their monstrous nature. They weren't really a blend of these two worlds, but rather just putting on an act.

That's what made examples like Strickler, Nomura, and NotEnrique emotionally toeing the line of what it means to be human so interesting. Because they aren't human, but have learned to love the world they live in. And it's also what would've made Jim's transformation so strange/special, because he actually would've embodied joining those worlds.

The Janus Order both visually and narratively throws a wrench into that for no reason. (And don't get me started on the whole "evil, politically powerful organization secretly controlling the world" deal..........)

The way I could actually see a point to that direction, is if it had been a relatively inconsequential side-plot where the Janus Order is more like a small-scale cult of humans or even low-grade sorcerers worshipping the Pale Lady. It could've been a one or two episode issue that would've mainly served to build up some lore & foreshadowing surrounding Morgana, before she would've made her big entrance in the third season.

Ah... and even Gunmar could've been handled much better in the later seasons. Bular isn't a perfect character, but he serves his purpose as the introductory villain fairly well and for a kids show like that, it's a sensible execution.

Gunmar's character started out very strong – as the presumed endboss, they combined Bular's intimidation factor and Strickler's conniving nature with him and added some class as a millennia old monster warlord. It works fantastically. While that image falls a little here and there, his portrayal in the Darklands still makes sense as someone who seemingly lost all hope and resigned himself to his eternal prison... and even then he displayed a malicious sort of patience by wanting to break Jim's spirit instead of simply killing him.

So for that to quickly turn into an impatient old man, who just barks out threats and orders and blindly follows whatever anyone tells him the moment he's on the surface... it, well, is pretty disappointing. It's understandable for Bular, the younger and less experienced son, to be rash and impatient, but a warlord? That's a position that requires a ton of patience and tactical prowess.

I really wish they would've kept the way he was presented in the first season and give us this big villain who's not only physically scary, but observational and dedicated enough to send Chompsky back with a message saying he'll kill all those Jim holds dear for killing his son and then listing literally everyone the kid knows.

Plus, his origin as some kind of actual monster born from a corrupted heartstone should've been explored! They could've gone into that endless hunger he apparently displays, that would've made him consume countless living creatures and even drain the magic energy out of crystals...

Instead we ended up with Bular 2 again, but even worse somehow, and it just made Gunmar about as threatening as a parked truck.

[randomheros]

So yall remember that time in Archie comics when Antoine worked as a prosecutor?

I'm sad that we're never gonna get a comic of Shadow teaming up with Antoine to sue G.U.N for financial compensation for past emotional and property damages...

[mariocki]

Anthony Ainley guests as medical specialist Josef Kerston, a doctor but also (shock!) a villain, in The Adventurer: The Bradley Way (1.4, ITC, 1972)

[arolesbianism]

Y'know Im not even gonna pretend to get ppl complaining abt the new skill trees because it makes Wilson less unique or whatever. Like there's plenty to complain abt with the skill trees, but you have to understand that the actual abilities Wilson gets from them are still unique, and still quite powerful in some cases. He rly isn't losing anything he hasn't lost by getting a skill tree in the first place, and in particular he could have a lot of use for certain speedruns and at worst is situational, which in itself means he's gained a unique role as a character. He doesn't need another new rework now or anything, the only rework Id want is a rework of the skill trees in general, Wilson is genuinely going to be just fine don't worry

[bulletbilltime]

I'm so sane. Only sane people think about "Life is Strange but isekai'd into Paper Mario TTYD". I'm so sane I swear.

[lumalalu]

why on earth do you even want a fe4 remake if you dont want anything to change just go play the original game.

[isaacathom]

i possess great power (the ability to make myself cry with relatively little warm up by thinking about my ocs)

[ozzgin]

Ghost Harem x Exorcist!Reader

I don't know, I just found the idea of an exorcist who keeps attracting the ghosts they're trying to purify very funny. content: gender neutral reader, mildly NSFW

You would argue you're rather good at your job.

Whenever you receive a call from a victim in need, you show up. Additionally, you never leave empty-handed. You're known to always complete your job. If a house is possessed, whatever ghost or devil is tormenting the poor inhabitants will be swiftly removed.

Normally, these spirits and demons would be purged; sent back to their hells, or off into some unknown afterlife. That, of course, was your initial aim.

Except these damned ghouls end up following you instead. Sometimes you don’t even get to perform the proper rituals: it’s enough to step foot into the cursed place, and they will pounce without delay, attaching themselves to you like starved dogs.

You’ve tried everything. The latest priestess you visited erupted in laughter upon hearing your misfortune and suggested the unholy creatures must be in love with you.

Love? A ghost? Nonsense. Most likely they are waiting for a moment of weakness, so they can devour your soul. That's what you tell yourself, pale with repugnance, gawking at the devilish curse standing before you and touching themselves. Their translucent visage is relaxed into a perverted grin.

Suddenly, a foreign weight presses itself into your shoulder. From behind you, a slender creature throws itself at the offender.

"Away! Keep away from my beloved," they bark, waving their long sleeves in disbelief. Its face is covered by a sealing talisman.

"Let the human sleep," another voice croaks from the shadows. "(Y/N) has a long day tomorrow."

You shriek as something slithers out of your shirt. A serpent-like monster speeds across your sheets with a chuckle.

"I just hope it's not another suitor. It's getting kind of cramped here, you know?"

The priestess' laughter rings against your ears, and you sigh, defeated. Maybe you can put them to work, at the very least.

Oh, they'd be more than happy to service you. In any way possible.

[Navigation] | [Ozztober Masterlist]

[sky-scribbles]

I'm going to say something controversial. I think there's something Veilguard does better than any other Dragon Age game. Namely: incorporating the companions into the plot.

Look, I love Origins as much as everyone. But to be frank: you could cut every companion except Alistair, Morrigan and Loghain and the plot could still work. Once you've finished the mission where you recruit a companion, there aren't other main quests that involve them in any way.

Oghren and Wynne could have stayed home after their recruitment missions for all the difference it would make to the main plot. Sten, Leliana and Zevran could vanish and nothing would change, because once they're on your team, they don't interact with the main plot at all. (There's the Temple of Sacred Ashes, I suppose - but even then, you'd be going on that quest whether Leliana and Wynne were there or not, and it's very telling that they can both die here and next to nothing in the rest of the game is impacted.)

Again: I love Origins. This doesn't detract from any of these characters being great, or from the story being great. It just means there's a layer of separation between the two. They're involved in the story, but they're not driving it, and you seldom get to see them have strong feelings about it.

DA2 is a huge step up. Your companions' personal stories are integral parts of the main plot. You can't do the Deep Roads expedition without witnessing Karl's death and its impact on Anders. You can't enter Act 2 without seeing Varric's brother betray him, or watching your sibling either die or begin a new path in life. Act 2's climax happens because of choices Isabela and Aveline have made. Act 3's endgame is all about Anders making one enormous decision. Even Fenris and Merrill, who have the fewest ties to the plot, have strong reasons to be invested in the Mage/Templar conflict.

And then Inquisition just... backslides. There are multiple companions you don't need to recruit at all, or can send away with zero alteration to the main plot. Your companions don't like Corypheus because he's bad, but no one - except maybe Varric - has any strong personal feelings about him. They have no personal stake in defeating him, not like Alistair has a personal stake in opposing Loghain, or Anders in opposing Meredith.

We go to the Winter Palace, and Vivienne is not made a part of that story. We have a whole subplot about the Wardens, and Blackwall only gets a couple of extra lines, if you even bring him. Their personal arcs could have been somehow impacted by these missions, and they're just... not. Sera is packed with internalised self-hatred that manifests as trying to distance herself from elven culture, to the point of sometimes lashing out at other elves. And despite all the missions you do where elven history features... Sera's growth past that flaw happens entirely offscreen between the base game and Trespasser?????

IMO, this is one of the biggest reasons why Corypheus is such a bland villain. He doesn't make anyone grow, except by starting a plot for them to be part of. He doesn't challenge them emotionally. No one is invested in him. Because no one interacts with the darn plot.

Veilguard, though? Veilguard keeps your companions interacting with the story the whole way through. The Treviso/Minrathous choice affects both Lucanis and Neve heavily, and impacts who they become for the rest of the game. These cities are personal to you, even if you're not a Crow or Shadow Dragon, because your companions love them.

The Siege of Weisshaupt is beyond personal to Davrin and Lucanis, both of whom are entrusted with major parts of the quest: trying to kill the archdemon and Ghilan'nain. Lucanis is affected by his failure to kill Ghilan'nain for ages afterward. Davrin is haunted by survivor's guilt; he should have died when he struck down the archdemon. He's alive. How can he live with that?

Whenever killing the gods becomes a possibility, Rook hands the lyrium dagger to Lucanis. When the squad go to fight the gods' dragons with the Wardens, Taash is the one to flush the first dragon out. When you infiltrate the Venatori, Neve tricks your way in, and everything that happens is especially weighty to Bellara, whose people have been abducted. On Tearstone Island, because of how Lucanis and Spite have grown, they strikes true.

Did you not hate Elgar'nan before that mission? Because you probably will after you watch him capture Bellara or Neve, and see his fellow god kill Harding or Davrin.

You know what's a great piece of writing? There's no reason Emmrich shouldn't have been an option to deal with the wards on Tearstone Island; he's one of the ideal options to take out more wards with the Veil Jumpers in the final mission. But you can't select him to do it. Because Emmrich has far less personal investment in the Elgar'nan battle than the other two. This is Neve's city. This is the monster who tries to call himself Bellara's god. The game makes sure the characters who take control of the Blight at the end are the ones with the greatest stakes in doing so.

One of your companions, not you, wrests command of the Blight from Elgar'nan. The final mission depends on how well you've come to know each companion's skills. They're just... always involved.

And they're invested, too. The companions all have serious personal reasons to hate the antagonists by the end. Lucanis and Neve have either seen their city burn, or know it happened at the cost of their friend's (and potential partner's) hometown. Davrin has seen his order devastated. These are Bellara's and Davrin's supposed gods, and instead of helping the elves reclaim their history and culture, they're trying to enslave the world. Harding learns that the Evanuris maimed and destroyed her Titan ancestors.

Emmrich and Taash have perhaps the smallest emotional tie - and sadly I do think Emmrich especially gets underutilized in the plot. But heck, Taash is still hella motivated by the way the gods are abusing dragons. And Emmrich is tied thematically to the main conflict. He's facing the question of immortality, while nigh-immortal beings are right in front of him, proving how that gift can be abused. The final choice of his personal arc is whether he's willing to embrace his personal, mortal attachments, at the cost of consequences that terrify him... you know, the same question that Solas faces at the end.

And don't even get me started on how everyone is emotionally tied to Solas. Harding and Neve watched him kill Varric in front of them. Everyone not dead or captured has to watch him drag Rook into the Fade. Just about every companion faces some kind of huge regret or failure at some point, in constant foreshadowing for Solas's prison of regret: both the literal one he sticks Rook in, and the mental one of his own making.

Veilguard has its problems, but it absolutely shines at keeping its characters involved and invested in the main story. It gives them things to do, it gives them reasons to care. For all the flaws this game has, this part is good writing.

[rowarn]

HYBRID!AU PART 2

part one | part two | part three

(: anyway here's what you've all been begging for. a part 2 but it was getting so long...almost 3k words. and so....there will be a part 3.......but for now i hope this satiates you!!!

cw: hurt/comfort, aftermath of hurt???, self-deprecating thoughts, insecurities, mentions of blood and scratching, mentions of past mistreatment, petnames and headpats tho &lt;3

The next time a human approaches you, you’re unable to stop the growls that escape your throat when you hear the pspsp as he tries to approach you. When you hiss, the man scoffs and stomps away muttering a soft ‘stupid cat’ under his breath. 

No one approached you for a long while after that. The only way you knew how much time had passed was when the restaurants all threw their leftover food from their workdays. Eating out of the trash was always utterly humiliating, especially when you got caught. 

Most people ignored you when they saw you sitting on the sidewalk, getting some sun since it didn’t shine into the little alleyway you hunkered in. Some people would scoff and give you disgusted looks, as if you were a stain on their shoe. 

At this point, you were used to humans acting like you were scum of the Earth. After your experience with Simon, human’s behavior towards you no longer surprises you. Though it hurt, you didn’t understand why you were so unlovable. 

But then one evening, when the sun was just beginning to set and the temperature was steadily dropping, you were huddled up in what little bit of sun-warmth you could get until it became dark. Your arms were wrapped around your body as you shivered, trying to ignore the way your tummy growled from being empty – the store employees had chased you off before you could steal anything from the dumpster. 

A large shadow cast over you and when you looked up, you saw a slender, athletic man. His presence immediately set you on edge and you felt a growl bubbling up in your chest.

“Hey now,” he chided softly, pretty brown eyes crinkled as he squatted in front of you, “None of that, little kitty.”

You scowled up at him. Even crouched down the way he was, he was larger than you.

“Do you have a name?” he asks kindly. 

You pause at that. Soap had given you a name. But did it really count as one if your previous owner hadn’t even agreed to it? Still, it was the only thing you really had left of your former companion. 

You softly mutter the name you’d been given and the man nods before holding out his large hand, “Kyle. Would you like to come home with me?”

That sends off alarm bells in your head and before you know it, your claws are ripping into his hand and you’re scurrying into the alleyway to cower in the corner. 

You hear the man faintly sigh before he stands, knees cracking as he does. You don’t hear anything from him for a few minutes before his heavy boots walk past the alleyway and fade. 

You don’t even understand your own reaction. Of course you wanted a home to call your own. But you don’t think you would be able to handle it if he turned out to be the same as Simon. You wouldn’t be able to get attached to a human only to be abandoned on the streets like you were last night's trash. Perhaps it was just easier to reject all human companionship than risk being heartbroken all over again. You had only recently stopped crying yourself to sleep over the memory of your home. 

You think that will be the last time you see the man, surely he wouldn’t want anything to do with a cat-hybrid who was mean, but just a couple days later, he’s back. He stands beside you, one bandaged hand gripping a shopping bag. You feel a pang of guilt at the sight of his bandaged wound. He slowly places it beside you, staring at you expectantly. 

“This is for you,” he says awkwardly after a second of you staring blankly at him, “It’s some food and water.”

Your stomach growls at the mention of food and as much as you want to peek in the bag, you can’t bring yourself to admit defeat like that. He might think you’re accepting him as your owner if you accept his gift! 

But you’re not! You refuse to end up hurt and sad like you had been with Simon! You would rather just live on the street than go through that hurt all over again. You couldn’t stand to give your trust only to be betrayed and mistreated again.

You only wanted someone to love you but apparently that wasn’t in the deck for you and that was okay, you told yourself. No matter how much it hurts to admit.

The man, Kyle, sighs softly when you simply ignore him, the sound almost melancholy. It makes your heart ache in your chest. He casts you one last glance but you keep your gaze down before he walks away, disappearing out of sight at the end of the street. 

With his piercing gaze off of you, you turn to the bag and begin rooting inside it. 

A couple bottles of water and some hybrid-safe packaged food. Nothing that needed refrigeration but also much better quality and variety than what you had been given by Simon. 

You remember how it felt to watch Soap eat delicious meats and fruits and veggies while you got bland, colorless slop. Sure, it was healthy for hybrids but everyone knew it was disgusting. Clearly Simon didn’t care – he was just feeding you so you didn’t inconvenience him by starving to death in his house. 

And though Soap would sometimes share his food with you, it wasn’t the same.

This food was yours. Kyle had gotten it for you.

You pull out one of the packages, a neatly wrapped sandwich with all the organic ingredients listed in bright colors. It makes your heart ache just a little bit as you take your first bite, all alone on the sidewalk, quietly wishing Soap was there for you to share it with as payment for all the food he had shared with you. 

Kyle makes it a habit to visit you day after day, sometimes bringing food, sometimes just bringing himself. Most of the time, you ignore him but he doesn’t seem deterred in the slightest, only quietly promising to visit you again soon when he bids you goodbye. 

It starts to become lonely when he leaves.

You don’t know when it begins, but you find yourself waiting for him. You sit out in the open, mindlessly combing your tail, where he can see you if he approaches. You find yourself thinking about him and if he’ll bring something for you to snack on – he found these delicious fish flavored chips that you were practically addicted to. Though, you didn’t say anything about your liking of them, he kept bringing them so you think he knows. 

Some days, Kyle’s visits were quick and fleeting and other times he sat there for a while. He had given up trying to talk to you much since you made it a point to ignore him but you were happy that he hadn’t given up yet. 

You know you would have given up by now. But the fact he persists leaves you with a warm, soft feeling in your chest. You’ve never had someone try so hard for you before, Simon certainly never cared to try.

Kyle wasn’t so bad after all, you found yourself deciding. He was quiet but not standoffish. He didn’t try to touch you after you had swiped at him one time when he went to pat your head. He was kind, always complimenting you with ‘pretty kitty’ and ‘sweet kitty’. And best of all, he didn’t ignore your existence like you had grown used to when living with Simon. 

Waiting for Kyle to show up became the most grueling part of your day. Minutes felt like hours and any tall man who passed by had you perking up to see if it was Kyle. The urge to get closer to him grew day by day, you wanted him to pet you, you wanted to talk to him. 

Maybe living with him wouldn’t be so bad after all. Just the thought of a happy life made you purr to yourself. 

You vowed that you would talk to him today, maybe see if you could take him up on that offer he had made that first day you met. 

But he never came. As the sun dips behind the horizon, you find your hopes getting squashed. He always came before dark. 

With a heavy heart, you curled up in the little cardboard box you had been calling your shelter. It was easy to tell yourself that the ache in your heart was because you wanted to see him and not because you were scared he had given up on you.

The next day, the same thing. You waited all day only for him to not show up. Then the next day. And the next. 

A week passed with no sign of him and you tried your best to pretend like it didn’t hurt like hell. 

Maybe he really had gotten sick of waiting for you and decided to find a hybrid who would actually talk to him. You couldn’t blame him, you suppose. But it still made that heavy pain settle in your heart like when you had been thrown out by Simon. 

One morning, you were awoken by a loud voice shouting down the alleyway, “Alright, come on out, cat.”

The sound of the voice had you sitting up, eyes wide as you looked around. At the entrance, a man stood with his hands on his hips, a hefty utility belt around his waist. 

He sighed when he saw you staring blankly at him before he came over, hoisting you up by the arm.

Your growled and hissed, ears pinned back as you fought against his grip. He dragged you out, taking you towards a big black van that had the words ‘hybrid-control’ printed on the side. 

You swiped at the man with your free hand, sharp nails slicing into his skin. He cried out in pain but didn’t relent in his hold.

“Stupid fucking cat,” he snapped, “Fuckin’ hate havin’ to pick shits like you up.”

“Excuse me,” a sudden, frantic voice called out, “What are you doing?”

The man holding you turned to look at Kyle, an annoyed look on his face, “Got a complaint about a stray hybrid livin’ around here. Came to pick it up.”

“Oh that’s not necessary,” Kyle said, reaching out to pull you from the man’s grasp, handling you much softer than the stranger, “This hybrid is mine.”

The man looked like he wanted to argue but glanced down at his bleeding arm and rolled his eyes, “Whatever, man. Your funeral. Just get it off the street.”

When the van drove off, Kyle turned to look at you apologetically, “Sorry, I didn’t want to claim ownership over you like that but–”

“Where were you this week?” you find yourself pouting, crossing your arms over your chest petulantly.

Kyle looks shocked before he smiles kindly, “I was away for work. I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you.”

Your pout only deepens, “It’s not like I missed you or anything…”

“Of course not,” he laughs but you both know he doesn’t believe you, “How about I show you my home, hm? It’s not too far from here.”

You agree without complaint, letting Kyle lead the way down the busy streets until it grows quieter and quieter.

The neighborhood is startlingly familiar as he escorts you to his home. It doesn’t take long for you to realize it’s the same neighborhood Simon and Soap live in. 

You weren’t exactly sure how far their home was but you couldn’t stop yourself from frowning at the memories.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, “Don’t like it? I know it’s a little boring here but it’s near the base so what can you do?”

“It’s not that,” you quickly said, considering telling Kyle what was on your mind but you instead settled for, “I-It’s nothing.”

You were worried if you told him about your previous home, he might think there was something wrong with you. You didn’t want him to think you were undesirable and put you out on the streets all over again. You silently wondered when you became so insecure. 

He hummed and opened the front door for you, “There’s a room at the end of the hall that’s an office right now but it’s all yours once I get it set up with a bed and everything.”

“My own room?” you ask softly, fluffy ears perked up.

“Of course,” he smiles, “This is your home now.”

You feel tears prick your eyes but you quickly look away before Kyle can see them. It felt so nice that he actually considered it your home too and not just his. Simon always made you feel like you were barely welcome and only there because he put up with you until he couldn’t stand you anymore.

“Oh before I forget,” he said, grabbing a box off of the table, “I got you this.”

He showed you the contents, a cute, dainty collar with a metal tag in the shape of a fish with your name engraved on it. 

“Why do you have a collar?” you asked, tilting your chin up so he could fasten it around your neck.

“I had hopes that you would let me take you home one of these days,” he laughed, a boyish, kind sound that made a smile grow on your own face, “I wasn’t going to give up until you were safe and sound with me, love. I knew this was going to be your home one way or another.”

You spend the whole day wandering around the house and exploring, nudging against every surface to spread your scent on it. You hadn’t done that much in Simon’s house, too scared you’d get reprimanded for dirtying up the furniture or something.

But Kyle didn’t care in the slightest. He simply smiled when he saw you nuzzling the pillows. He even trimmed your nails so they weren’t nearly as sharp anymore. 

It was nice living with him.You quickly realized how different your life felt with Kyle than how it felt with Simon.

Kyle was kind and friendly, calling you by your name and petnames and not just ‘hey you’ or ‘cat’. The affection in his tone was palpable and just hearing how sweetly he spoke to you made you purr uncontrollably. 

And he didn’t once raise his voice at you or chase you off the couch when you were napping. He gave you the softest pats on the head and let you snooze on his lap without a single complaint. 

He never forgot to feed you and always gave you the most delicious things he could find. He ate at the table with you and told you all about his day, making an effort to talk to you and learn about the things you liked to do while he was at work. 

You were happy to finally have a home to call your own. But deep down, you missed Soap. You missed his energetic happiness and how affectionate he was with you in a way that only hybrids could be. He was the only true companion you had ever had and he had left his mark on you. You wondered about him every day, especially when you heard the front door open and you half expected him to come running in with a thrilled grin on his face, ready to regale you with tales of outside.

You passed their house one day while on a walk with Kyle, something he took to doing as an activity with you (he didn’t want you to get bored or stagnant just sitting inside all day), trying your best to act like seeing the home you used to call your own didn’t make your heart ache painfully in your chest. 

“There’s a hybrid that lives here, you might like him. His name’s Soap,” Kyle said when he saw you pausing in front of their home, “Owner is Simon Riley. I work with him, kind of a standoffish guy, you should probably steer clear if you run into him. He’s not the most friendly.”

“Yeah…” you found yourself mumbling, barely even registering anything Kyle had said, a frown etched on your lips before you looked at Kyle, “Can we go home?”

“Of course. Let’s get you some food, pretty kitty,” Kyle cooed affectionately, patting your head before leading you back home. 

You casted a glance at the home you used to call your own, you were startled to see Soap standing in the window, eyes wide, brows furrowed, and hurt written all over his face. The sight alone made your own eyes sting. He had never looked at you like that before. He looked so heartbroken.

Kyle cooed softly to get your attention again, leading you down the sidewalk and away from the house. Soap’s figure in the window faded from view and you felt your head spinning.

Soap and Simon’s scent faded the further you got away from it. But once you entered your home with Kyle, your scent and his mixed together in a way that it never did with Simon’s. You couldn’t help but purr, the pain and anxiety in your heart fading.

But still, your mind lingered on the distraught face of the best friend you left behind.

do not modify or repost to third party sites. reblogs appreciated!

[kimberly-spirits13]

After Hunt Showers

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader SFW

Synopsis: After Sam denies Dean the first shower after a hunt, you let Dean join you.

Warnings: showering together, some light language, not fully edited (I gotta get to class 😭)

The sound of rain hitting the windows of Baby would have lulled you to sleep on a regular day, however, after all the adrenaline from the hunt you just completed, sleep was nowhere in sight. Some rock song you didn’t quite recognize right now was playing in the background acting like white noise. All you could think about on this ride home was getting into a scalding hot shower and wasting the day’s torments away while you scrubbed all the grime and muck off yourself. You openly cherished the quiet time you got in the shower and the ability of a good shower to keep you sane.  Dean was humming along, drumming his fingers along to the drums on the steering wheel. You looked over to see what Sam was doing and caught Dean’s eyes in the rear view. When your eyes met for the brief encounter, he shot you a wink causing you to blush and roll your eyes in response. You could see the exhaustion in Dean’s eyes and a shade of purple shadowing under them. He looked like a zombie, cursed with the inability to sleep. 

                  “I want first shower tonight, Sammy.” Dean said, reaching over to turn the car off.

                  “What? No way!” Sam turned to face him, “You had first shower last time.” 

                  “Too bad Sammy. Eldest gets first shower” Dean looked at you with a grin, “Back me up on this Y/N.”

                  “I’m not touching that argument with a ten-foot pole.” You put your hands up and laughed, “That’s a two of you problem.” “You could just shower in my room before me.”

                  “No go, I know you’re exhausted.” Dean answered sternly looking back at you. His eyes softened looking at you and a small smile appeared. Dean put a hand on your knee before Sam started arguing again.

                  “I get first shower.” Sam asserted.

                  “Dude, that’s bullshit.” Dean turned back to face him, the look of brotherly annoyance returning across his face again.

                  “Fine. Rock, paper, scissors.” Sam threw his hand on with a fist on the other.

                  Reluctantly, Dean did the same. The two looked sternly at each other, not breaking eye contact. 

                  “Rock, paper, scissors, shoot” Sam chanted.

                  “Damn it!” Dean yelled and threw his head back in defeat, “Best out of three.”

                  “What- dude.” 

                  “Just do it Sammy.” He insisted.

                  The same thing happened again, and Dean accepted his fate. This wasn’t without complaining that Sam showered like a girl and took too much time. He decided that it would be quicker to wait for you to finish showering and then borderline drown himself when you got out. You and Dean walked into your motel room. Ever since you started dating, you slept in a separate room to give Sam some much needed privacy. Dropping your duffel from the car onto the floor next to the bed, you got out a change of clothes and walked into the bathroom to start the shower. It was a moment later when you walked out and saw Dean sitting in a wobbly desk chair, staring up at the ceiling, willing himself to shower when you were done. You felt bad seeing him this way.

                  “Yell at me when you’re done, will ya.” Dean said, closing his eyes and leaning back into the chair.

                  “You look exhausted.” You said, walking over and running your fingers through his hair. 

                  It was still sweaty from running around all night; he needed a shower. Dean sighed deeply and leaned into your touch, nearly falling asleep. 

                  “But I still look beautiful right?” He popped an eye open to see your response and cracked a smile.

                  “I suppose so.” 

                  “Suppose so? That’s just hurtful Y/N/N.” Dean loudly clapped a hand over his chest in feigned offense.

                  You giggled, kissing him to make up for the comment, “Will you ever be able to forgive me?” 

                  “I suppose so.” 

                  You rolled your eyes and started running your fingers through his hair again, causing him to close his eyes again.

                  “Wanna come shower with me? It’ll be quicker.” You asked.

                  “I’d never say no to that, but isn’t the shower kind of your me time?” Dean answered.                 

                  “Yeah, but I’m fine. You don’t look like you’re staying awake much longer anyways.”

                  “So, what you’re saying is, you want Dean time, not me time?” 

                  “I’m saying that I’m pretty sure you’re not going to shower if you don’t now, and I don’t want your stink on me tonight when you have a death grip around me.” You poked the top of his head and smiled, “Now, are you coming or not?”

                  “I’d never miss the chance.”

                  You dropped your towel and stepped inside the shower, letting the steaming hot water hit your face and roll down. Dean followed quickly behind you, and you moved out of the way for him to soak his hair and wash his face once you had done so. Grabbing the shampoo, you lathered the soap into your hair and started rinsing out the blood, dirt, dust, and whatever else was in there. Dean moved out of your way so you could wash the shampoo out. 

                  “You’re beautiful.” He said, running his hands through your hair, now slick with conditioner.

                  “I’m flattered.” You replied, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting him pull you into a kiss. Dean yawned loudly while he helped rinse the conditioner out of your hair. You laughed and looked up at him, “Are you going to survive, pretty boy?” 

                  “No.” He yawned again.

                  “Let me rinse your hair.” You said pulling him close and letting his head fall on your shoulder.

                  Dean wrapped his arms around your waist and closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of your embrace and your nails massaging the shampoo into his hair. You felt his eye lashes flutter against your shoulder and his breath fanning out against your skin. He had a tight grip around you and didn’t seem to be letting go anytime soon. You moved to reach up and grab the handheld shower head and began rinsing the product out of hair, making sure to avoid getting any soap in his eyes. 

                  “You really should be more intentional about rest, Dean.” You said quietly.

                  “I’m fine.” He answered.

                  “No, you’re not. You’re exhausted.” “I’m not upset with you; I just want you to pay more attention to what you need.”

                  “You’re probably right.” Dean said.

                  “Did I hear that right?” You feigned a gasp.

                  Dean raised his head and shot you a look making you laugh.

                  “How about we sleep in tomorrow?” He asked.

                  “that’s a good start.” You agreed carding your fingers through his dripping hair.

                  After finishing showering, the two of you got dried off. You brushed your teeth next to Dean as he rested his head on your shoulder. When doing your skin routine, he glued himself to you. Again, you felt his breath fanning against your skin and eyelashes fluttering against your neck. His warmth kept you from the chills you typically got after a shower. 

                  “You almost done?” He asked in whisper.

                  “Almost.” You said with a small smile watching him. 

                  Silently, you streaked moisturizer across his forehead when his eyes were closed. He popped an eye open and rubbed the stripe on his face, making it disappear in his skin. 

                  “Very funny.” He breathed out. 

                  “It was.” You laughed and put it away.

                  “You done now?” 

                  “Yea.”

                  Dean pulled you into the bedroom and onto the bed before throwing the covers over the two of you. He let a groan when his head hit the pillow and grabbed for you to come closer to him. He was clingy at night, and tonight was no different. 

                  “Want me to set an alarm?” You asked in a hushed voice.

                  “Hell no.” He laughed, “Sammy will bang on the door when it’s time to go.” 

                  “You’re probably right.” 

                  “I know I’m right.” He poked your side, “Now go to sleep. I love you.” 

                  “Love you too.”

                  You curled into his side and smiled feeling his kiss on the top of your head before soft snores emitted from Dean. Tonight, you were glad to not have your usual “me time”. 

[connorsui]

Luke & Kieran/ Sylus x wife! Reader || Imagine ||

"One last game!"

Note: not as polished as I would like but I did always imagined how these two would be like around their boss kid? -

The evening was coming to a close, and the house, bathed in a soft, warm glow, looked like it had been hit by a miniature hurricane. Pink toys—plushies, blocks, glittery shoes—were scattered haphazardly across the living room floor, the remnants of what had once been an innocent evening of fun. Now, the peaceful warmth of the home had been overtaken by a growing sense of chaos as frantic footsteps reverberated through the hallways.

Luke and Kieran were in full-blown panic mode, tearing through the house. They tossed pillows, peeked under tables, and flung open every door, desperately searching for a toddler who had seemingly vanished without a trace.

“You can trust us with the kid, we said! Nothing bad will happen, we said!” Kieran muttered bitterly, lifting a cushion and glancing under the couch. “And now look! Thirty minutes of searching, and she’s gone! GONE!” His voice cracked as he threw the cushion across the room in frustration.

Luke, visibly rattled but trying to maintain some semblance of calm, walked over to Kieran. “Come on, she couldn’t have gotten that far, right? I mean, her legs are tiny! Point A to point B takes her forever.”

Kieran, still crouched on the floor, slowly rose and stared at Luke, incredulous. “Yeah, and you remember how fast she moved when she took Mephisto on that ‘plane ride’ with her plushies? Thought the bird was too slow to fly?”

Luke folded his arms, trying to look nonchalant but clearly feeling the pressure. “Okay, yeah. And your point?”

“My point is... the kid can run.”

“Oh, that’s just perfect,” Luke groaned dramatically, flopping onto the floor in complete defeat. “None of this would’ve happened if someone hadn’t suggested one ‘finaaaal’ game with the boss’s kid. One minute she’s here, and the next—POOF! Gone. With a trail of glitter.”

Kieran stared at Luke in disbelief. Even though they were both wearing masks, Luke could feel the heat of Kieran’s glare. “Wait—are you seriously blaming me for this?”

“Who else?”

Kieran threw his hands up. “Who else? Uh, who was it that thought party cans were a great ‘welcome back’ surprise for the boss and his wife, huh?”

“Well, it was either that or hide-and-seek, and you—”

Before Luke could finish his retort, they both froze. A burst of giggles echoed from upstairs, followed by the unmistakable click of a door locking. They stared at each other, wide-eyed.

“How… how did she get upstairs!?” Luke whispered in disbelief, his voice shaky.

Without a word, they both bolted toward the staircase, skidding to a halt at the sight of the baby gate, now hanging loosely by its hinges. It was tilted precariously, as if it had been outwitted by the most cunning toddler alive.

“Oh, she’s smart—” Luke began, but Kieran cut him off with a sharp smack to the back of his head.

“Focus!” Kieran growled, stepping forward. “Alright, kiddo, time to come out now!” His voice was firm but coaxing. But instead of the sound of obedient little feet, they were met with more giggling, playful and distant, echoing through the upstairs hallway.

Luke exchanged a glance with Kieran, who rolled his eyes as they both cautiously climbed the stairs. “This is going to be bad,” Luke muttered under his breath.

The upstairs hallway was dimly lit, the shadows stretching along the walls. Suddenly, Sylus' daughter peeked her head around the corner, her bright red eyes wide with mischief. The second she spotted them, she squealed with delight and darted away, disappearing around the bend.

“Oh, come on!” Kieran groaned, as they raced after her, rounding the corner just in time to see the door to the boss’s office wide open.

“There’s no way she’s in there...” Luke whispered, shaking his head in disbelief.

“How did she even get in here?” Kieran asked, just as confused.

They entered the office cautiously, careful not to disturb anything. The room was pristine, neatly organized—until they noticed a pair of tiny feet peeking out from beneath the desk. And there it was again: that unmistakable giggle.

Kieran’s eyes lit up with an idea. He motioned for Luke to come closer. “Alright, here’s the plan: you go left, I’ll take the right. We jump out, and give her a little scare.”

Luke grinned. “Perfect.”

They positioned themselves on either side of the desk, ready to strike. But before they could even make their move, Sylus' daughter popped out from beneath the desk, a wide grin plastered across her face.

“Surprise!” she shrieked, spraying them both with party cans they had been saving for later. Neon foam shot out, covering Luke and Kieran in a sticky mess of silly string as the toddler collapsed into giggles.

“Surprise! Surprise! I win! I win!” she chanted, hopping up and down with glee as she sprayed them again.

Luke, now covered head to toe in foam, looked over at Kieran, both of them utterly defeated, but unable to suppress a smile. Her excitement was contagious.

“Alright, that’s enough, kiddo,” Luke laughed, scooping her up as she squealed, still waving the can.

Kieran quickly snatched the can from her, shaking his head with a playful smirk. “Yeah, yeah. You win.”

Setting her down, they both attempted to question her about her little escapade, but all she did was giggle uncontrollably, covering her face with her tiny hands. “I didnt leeeaaveee I played!, I played and won” she squealed between bursts of laughter.

Before they could question her even further, the sound of footsteps behind them made them freeze. They slowly turned, only to see You and Sylus standing in the doorway, watching the scene unfold with amused expressions.

Silly string wasn’t just on Luke and Kieran—it was everywhere. The desk, the chair, the floor—nothing had escaped the carnage.

You pressed your hand to your mouth, trying to hide the laughter. “I - I ...take it you all had a great time?”

Luke and Kieran stood in stunned silence, caught red-handed in the chaos, while Sylus' daughter grinned proudly.

“Mommy! Mommy!” she cried, running towards you with open arms. “We had so much fun today! Mommy, look!”

You bent down, scooping her up with a warm smile, planting a kiss on her cheek. “I can see that, sweetheart.”

As Luke and Kieran stood there, still sticky and covered in foam, they glanced over at Sylus, who crossed his arms, looking every bit the stern boss. His eyes flicked over the mess, then back at the two men, who stood awkwardly under his gaze.

“Uh... we tried our best,” Luke muttered weakly, scratching the back of his head. “She’s... uh, faster than she looks.”

Kieran nodded, backing him up. “Yeah, I mean, we had a plan! But she outsmarted us.”

You stifled another laugh, turning to Sylus. “Go easy on them. They did try, after all.”

Sylus’ expression softened, though the hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “No promises,” he muttered, before walking past them into the office to inspect the damage.