#ever wanted something that compressed all the fear of the future and fear of connection you have into one neat story

[quinns-shadowy-arts]

Steve's Perfect Mixtape

Day 8 of @steddielovemonth‘s Steddie Love Month Event!   Rating: General CW: None Tags: Getting Together, Love Confessions, Eddie’s a Romantic, Tooth Rotting Fluff. WC: 1,308 Prompt: “Love is the perfect mixtape”; Submitted by @thefreakandthehair and “Love is the heartbeat I can feel when I hug him”; Submitted by anonymous  

Eddie’s been thinking about this for months. He’s had the small cassette tape tucked into the depths of his dresser drawer since March. He started making the mixtape the same week he found out when Steve’s birthday was.

It was the night of January 24th. Big, fat snowflakes were falling from the sky. Steve and Eddie were sitting on the living room floor of the Munson’s new trailer. They were passing a joint between the two of them, relaxing and listening to some of Eddie’s tapes. They were sharing secrets and stories, lips loose from the weed. 

“I’m going to be 21 in April, isn’t that crazy?” Steve had asked. Eddie didn’t really think that was all that crazy if he was being honest. 

“I was supposed to be in college right now. Studying to take my dad’s spot as CEO or whatever.” Steve had looked over at Eddie before looking back up at the ceiling. Eddie’s heart squeezed at the thought. 

“Do you- Do you wish you were in college?” Eddie asked, looking at the slope of Steve’s nose; straight and gorgeous. Steve looked back over at Eddie, taking a hit of the joint he’d been hogging, before responding.

“I used to. I felt like a failure for not being accepted, still sorta do. But I’m happy now that I didn’t. If I hadn’t been rejected from all the schools I applied for, I wouldn’t have Robin. I wouldn’t have worked at Scoops and wouldn’t have ever met her, y’know?” Eddie nodded. Steve made eye contact with Eddie and kept going.

“I wouldn’t have met you either. I’m happy here, with you. I would kill to be here with you, sitting on the floor and shooting the shit, rather than at some stuffy school, studying for a boring future that I don’t even want. I’m more than happy, here with you.” Steve smiled at Eddie. Eddie pulled a chunk of hair in front of his face, trying to hide the heat spreading across his face.

“Aw shucks, Stevie.” Eddie teased. Steve chuckled at Eddie’s theatrics.

“When is your birthday?” Eddie asked, still holding the hair over his face. 

“April 17th, 1967. You?” Steve quirked his eyebrow at Eddie. 

“August 8th, 1966” Eddie responded.

The next day, Eddie was brainstorming things he could get Steve for his birthday. He toyed around with the idea of something sportsy, maybe some compression socks or something. But that felt too simple and disingenuous. It was a gift you would get for a coworker, not a friend you’ve spilt blood and battled demons with.

Eventually the idea struck Eddie like an arrow. Eddie loved music, believed it was one of the best ways you could connect with someone. You could learn a lot about someone from their music taste. So Eddie started crafting Steve's Perfect Mixtape™.

He spent weeks choosing the songs, listening to Top 40’s pop songs to assemble the perfect selection of songs. After choosing what he deemed were “the best songs” (and Steve’s favorites of course), he listened to them for hours on end, trying to figure out the perfect order. The order that would flow into itself in the most satisfying way. 

By the beginning of March, he had perfected the tape. He had finally recorded all of the songs down onto one tape. He had labeled the tape as what it was, “Stevie’s Perfect Mixtape”. It held Steve’s favorite songs, such as “Head Over Heels” by Tears For Fears and “Sunglasses at Night” by Corey Hart. He tucked the tape into his dresser, hoping to keep it safe and secret until Steve’s birthday.

Finally, Steve’s birthday had come. Steve planned for everyone to come over, nothing too extravagant. He used to throw absolute ragers, back when he was King Steve, but he much preferred the simple hang outs with his closest friends. 

Eddie dug the tape out from the back of his drawer and wrapped it in some wrapping paper he found in Wayne’s closet. He tucked the cassette into the pocket above his heart. He hopped into his van and drove over to Steve’s house. 

Steve’s party was chill, including only the kids and older teens. They hung out in his living room, songs flowing from Steve’s speakers. They all played games and ate pizza, the older teens drinking mainly beer while the youngins drank soda. The party continued on until the late evening. Everyone would’ve stayed longer, but the gremlins had school and everyone else still had curfews. 

Robin had gone with Nancy, Mike, and Lucas while Jonathan and Argyle carted Will and Dustin home. Which had left Steve and Eddie alone. Steve was happy to have the company still, wasn’t exactly looking forward to falling asleep alone. Eddie still hadn’t given Steve The Tape yet, had wanted to wait until they had some privacy. 

“Hey, Steve?” Eddie called out. Eddie stood in front of the couch while Steve was in the kitchen. Steve walked into the living room at the sound of Eddie’s voice.

“Yeah, man? Is everything ok?” Steve’s eyebrows were furrowed with concern. 

“Yeah, everything’s ok. I just had a present I needed to give you.” Eddie said. Steve’s concern melted away, making him look light and happy. 

“Oh, you didn’t need to do that.” Steve said, but he smiled and walked towards Eddie. Eddie reached into his breast pocket and pulled out the little wrapped rectangle. He handed it over to Steve. Steve grabbed onto it and started pulling away the wrapping. 

“Is this a mixtape?” Steve looked up at Eddie while tugging the last remaining half of paper off. A note fell to the ground as he did so. Steve looked down and picked it up, tucking it underneath the cassette tape as he read off the song list.

“You put “Bad Boys” on here?” Steve smiled up at Eddie. It was one of Steve’s favorite songs, he had only told Eddie about his love for it, 

“Yeah, I know how much you love Wham!, and it reminded me of us a little bit” Eddie smiled at Steve, it was one of Eddie’s favorite songs now too. Steve finished reading off the list before pulling the note out from underneath the tape; he unfolded it up and began to read it. 

As Steve read through the note, Eddie’s heart had started to pump at top speed. He pulled a lock of hair over his face, trying to hide his embarrassment. Steve’s wide smile morphed into something smaller; something private and sweet. He bit at his bottom lip, tears springing to his eyes. After a couple of minutes, he looked up at Eddie. 

“Do you really love me?” Steve’s voice wobbled with emotion. Eddie nodded,

“Yes, Stevie. I really love you. I understand if you don’t feel the same way, I just needed to let you know. You deserve to know that someone loves you.” Tears trickled down Steve’s cheeks, his smile remained on his face.

 He pulled Eddie into a hug, Eddie’s head landing against his chest. Steve’s hand held Eddie’s head in place, his face pressing against the top of Eddie’s frizzy hair. Eddie could hear the rapid thumping of Steve’s heart against his ear. He listened to the rhythmic Thump thump thump of Steve’s heartbeat while Steve pressed kisses against the top of his head. 

“Thank you” Steve whispered out, voice overflowing with emotion. He squeezed his arms tighter around Eddie. 

“I love you too, for the record” Steve smiled even wider, even though Eddie couldn’t see it. Eddie turned his head and kissed at the spot above Steve’s heart. He pressed his ear back to Steve’s pec. He listened as Steve’s heart calmed down into something tender. 

Ba-bump   Ba-bump   Ba-bump

Both their hearts thumped with love, full of affection and joy. This really was the perfect mixtape. 

#steddie fanfic #steddielovemonth #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #tooth rotting fluff #steve harrington loves eddie munson #eddie munson loves steve harrington

[daisyachain]

irregular reminder to read the beautifully-drawn and expressive manga Blue Flag for a slice of life that is compelling and clever without sacrificing realism

#kelsey liveblogs ao no flag #p l e a s e r e a d b l u e f l a g #ever wanted something that compressed all the fear of the future and fear of connection you have into one neat story? #ever wanted a drama with space to breathe and subtle challenges instead of cliches? #ever wanted a comic whose art style communicates as much as the narration? that changes with PoV? #ever wanted a story where subtext and text drive the plot in equal measure? #ever wanted a plot that plays with your perceptions without ever quite lying to you? #please. read blue flag

[lightsinthedistancee]

Darkness : Poe Dameron x Reader

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Words: 1.4k

Excerpt: “Darkness is a time of peace for you. A time to crawl into soft sheets, to curl up against your pilot. Some nights, to feel him lazily press a soft kiss to your forehead before his breath levels out in sleep. Others, to feel his hands roaming your body, feel him inside you.”

Summary: A short talk to Poe is always enough to cure a case of loneliness.

Warnings: Some sexual references

A/N: This is for @autumnleaves1991-blog Writer Wednesday. I actually originally meant for this to be a perhaps 500 word-ish Drabble but it ended up way longer obviously. But I’m really proud of it and love the concept of Writer Wednesday, so hope you guys enjoy! (Also, we’re just gonna pretend that phones and phone booths exist in the Star Wars universe...).

You’ve always found something lovely in darkness.

It’s simple, quiet, a constant that never changes, that rolls around at roughly the same time each night. Settles over cities and towns and every being in the galaxy in a thin blanket. Darkens faces into comforting anonymity, conceals the activities of lovers, provides peace in slumber for the weary.

There is a saying: One should not be afraid of the dark, but of what lies in it.

And after years of life, years of travel, years of experiencing the galaxy, you know that nothing sinister hides beneath darkness. No monsters, no demons, no ghosts. It is something that simply exists with no ulterior motive, something that is debatably hard to come by these days.

Darkness is a time of peace for you. A time to crawl into soft sheets, to curl up against your pilot. Some nights, to feel him lazily press a soft kiss to your forehead before his breath levels out in sleep. Others, to feel his hands roaming your body, feel him inside you.

In those times, darkness is there, still a constant. Hiding his features, hiding those eyes you adore during the daytime, allowing you to become entirely tactile, to simply feel him to the fullest, void of the distraction one’s most used method of perception, sight,  provides.

Yet tonight is a rare night. Your feet hit pavement as you walk quickly, hands in your coat, head bent towards the ground. You’ve been on this Outer Rim planet for nearly two months, gathering intelligence undercover, maintaining little to no contact with the Resistance, and therefore, Poe.

The darkness seems stronger than ever tonight. It slithers up and down the sides of buildings, seems to wrap around you in strings. In this moment, it is not simply a cover—it is suffocating.

The loneliness had been getting to you. Too many days going by a name that is not your own, too many days living in constant fear, too many days away from the touch of someone that’s always able to take your mind off of everything.

And that’s exactly what you need right now. A distraction. A brief moment to bind you back to everything you know, something you are slowly, imperceptibly slipping away from in your mind. The buildings seem to tower over you, to dwarf you. It’s an intimidation act, and you feel it’s working.

It feels as if you can sink into the asphalt, become one with the soil that had been so cruelly compressed by man-made rock. As if you can sink beneath and become one with the dead, the figurative and the literal that had most likely been so barbarously worked to death to build this historic city in the dark days of the galaxy.

You round a bend, turning onto the main street, and your eyes, adjusted to the dark, flare painfully as light hits you. You snap them shut on instinct, flinching. However, the object of your discomfort is not an unknown. This route had been walked by you every day the last two months, and the light is the same phone booth you’d been using to transmit information back to the Resistance due to the anonymous, unmonitored, and therefore, rare quality of it.

It is hardly used anymore, for everyone has their own personal holos, and this one is particularly beat up. It’s translucent walls are cloudy, it’s metal backing dented. Nowadays, it is probable that is it only frequented by drunks and Spice addicts and, well…you.

There is something ironic about the fact that this small, dilapidated booth is your only connection back to D’Qar.

But not ironically, perhaps in a poetically symbolic manner, it also shines bright in the darkness, eradicates the very thing that had been suffocating you moments earlier. It is almost a physical embodiment of hope.

It is also a universal rule that hope births more hope, and an unwise desire comes over you. One that could put the whole operation at risk. But resisting the temptation, it hurts. It’s agonizing, and you want to give in to it. You want to hear one voice. One voice that can wrap you in softness, encourage your imagination to conjure up the sensation of his touch.

And before you know it, you’re in the booth, dialing a long string of numbers you’ve memorized by now. A voice of a communications officer sounds.

You state your name.

“Security code?” the officer asks.

“Six nine eight oh seven three.”

Your eyes nervously glance around. Despite having done this a few times, the experience still makes your heart race. You can only hope that any observer would see only an ordinary lone figure, silhouetted in the light, making an emergency call to a friend because she drank too much or got her wallet stolen.

“You got information?”

“No,” you respond, letting out a soft breath and lying through your teeth. “I need you to transfer me to Commander Dameron. I have a hunch regarding something naval, and I need his opinion.”

You silently chide yourself at your quickness to over explain.

But luckily, the communication officer says nothing. “Transferring now,” he says.

You thank him, leaning against the inner wall of the booth, hovering the phone directly next to your ear. Moments of silence pass before a voice breaks it.

“Hello?” says Poe.

Every point of tension in you seemed to relax in a moment as your eyes slowly close. The timbre of his voice washes over you, through you. “Hey,” you whisper.

“Sweetheart?” He sounds confused. Above all, tired.

“Did I wake you?” you ask, feeling bad all of a sudden. The high that had been coursing through your veins moments earlier plunges back to the ground. The intensity with which you feel it is irrational, yet nothing in you mind is steady.

“Yeah, but that’s okay,” he replies, a slight urgency to his voice. ���Is something wrong?”

You picture him in your shared bed back on D’Qar, shirt off like usual. Propped up on one elbow, sheets falling to his waist, holo to his ear, concern on his features. Concern at his love calling him in the middle of the night, her voice shaking.

“Nothing’s wrong…I just…I….” Your voice trails off, and a silence a bit too long elapses.

“Baby?” he asks.

Your breath trembles slightly as you let it out. “This was a mistake,” you mumble. “I’m sorry, just—“

He interjects at the tone of finality in your voice. “Hey…don’t go, sweetheart.” You hear him shift, perhaps sitting up. “Just talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“I miss you,” you blurt out. You’d meant to say it more eloquently, less directly, but that’s not something you have the energy for right now. “I miss everyone back on D’Qar. This assignment…it’s the most least contact with base I’ve ever had, and—why am I even telling you that? You know that.” You let out a frustrated breath, gathering your thoughts. He patiently waits, something you’re grateful for. “I’m just…having a hard time. That’s all.”

His energy transmits well through the phone. He’s thinking, the gears in his mind turning. You can feel the helplessness, for there is undeniably little he can do. “I miss you, too,” he finally says. “It’s a few more weeks, baby. I know you’ve got it in you…”

It’s a simple sentence, yet nearly reinvigorating in a way. Nothing that immediately lifts your mood, but perhaps something that briefly abates the hollow feeling within you.

“I’ll be there the moment you’re back.” His tone is soft, a little raspy with tiredness, slightly reminiscent of the way he tells you how much he loves and how amazing you are in a post-sex haze of exhaustion. It’s an odd relation, but the sense of peace that both tones hold is something you always cling to. “I’ll be there to kiss you. To hold you.” He pauses. “To take you to bed….”

The way his voice, on the last statement, walks the line between humorous and genuinely seductive makes you laugh quietly. It’s neither a common nor desirable combination.

“There’s that beautiful laugh,” he says softly, letting out a breath, returning to his previous demeanor. “I’ll be there, baby. I know you know that.”

You nod even though he can’t see you. Air brushes past your lips as your eyes flutter shut. “I know.”

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

Taglist (for everything): @dark-academics-and-florals @theultimateslashgirl

Taglist (for Poe): @synical-paradox @spider-starry @paper-n-ashes

If you wish to be tagged on any of my future works, just let me know or do the form on my Masterlist if that’s easier!

Based on this Writer Wednesday pic:

#Writer Wednesday #poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #star wars #star wars fanfiction #poe dameron fanfiction

[austarus]

Harrison Wells (Eobard Thawne) x Reader - Integrated Revelations (1/3)

**A/N: The picture/edit/gif does not belong to me.

*I attempted a thing where I try to get back into the groove of writing for my murder speed husband... It’s probably shit, but here goes nothing. Sorta another theory I’ve had and had all these scenes connect together. I’m a shit writer so... Also, I’m dying and crying. Hahaha. I literally am dying. My uni work online is being ridiculously overwhelming along with my work hours for school. I really need a week with no deadlines or work just to get caught up with three weeks of work for certain classes. I really need to take a break. But I can’t, started to loose sleep. Can’t even have time to write or play Pokemon Reborn. Anyway, that a bit of an update from me. I wrote this back in July, hoping to have written a fic a week (which turned out to not happen, but hey, I tried) until October to post things. Also this most likely has grammer errors. I’m sorry. Once again, a shit writer. Please don’t forget to comment, like, and reblog. It means a lot to content creators of all kinds!

Word Count: 3584

Part 2  Part 3

“Well...” Eobard’s raspy voice didn’t seem to alarm the two speedsters that had phased into the Time Vault. The futuristic speedster had sat with a leg crossed over the other, and elbow resting on the arm of the chair. “Things just got a lot more complicated, didn't they?” Eobard pushed from the chair, standing up and taking a few steps forward. Nora and Barry looked on, one adorned a look of uncertainty and the other masqueraded his rage and pain through the years. “Barry Allen.” Barry nodded along, gauging the black-haired man’s façade. “But which Barry Allen? Clearly, you're… from a lot later than this one.” Eobard maneuvered his body and pointed to the unconscious form of an earlier Barry Allen.

“Way later.” Barry simply answered, looking indifferent.

“Way later,” Eobard echoed the response, putting emphasis on the word ‘way’. The scientist nodded along, pursuing his lips as his electric blue eyes flickered to Nora. Before anyone could speak, could even move the Time Vault door dematerialized. Nora watched as an earlier version of yourself entered the Vault hurriedly and out of breath. You had entered looking over your shoulder with a tablet in hand. You had been scanning for the supposed Time Wraith that had attacked Barry, but not your present time Barry.

“Eo, I traced-” You froze in place as you turned your gaze forward. Fear crippled your heart as you saw a version of Barry, much older through the years, and a woman not too far off his from his age. You swallowed thickly, clutching the tablet tighter. There’s three Barry Allen’s now?? Who the hell decided to break time? A small throbbing sensation erupted at the back of your head, but you dismissed it. Eobard had swiftly moved to stand in front of you. His eyes connected with yours for a moment.

“You knew?!” The young woman spoke up, stepping forward towards you which caused Eobard to hold out a subtle arm out to the side to keep you behind him. “All those years.” The older man narrowed his eyes at what the female had called out to you. You frowned at her words in confusion. Who is she? An image flashed through your mind of the woman, smiling proudly at Barry while wearing a dark purple and white suit with a yellow emblem. She clearly knows who I am, but… What even happened? Are they from a different future? You pushed away the image to the back of your mind. “How could y-”

“If you even think about touching her, either of you, then you’ll regret ever running back here,” Eobard steely replied. You took a step closer to your speedster boyfriend in case something were to happen and he needed to speed you away to safety. Not that you needed saving, but you were still working on defending yourself via your lessons with the futuristic speedster. So, they’re from the future, and I’m guessing far off from this other Barry, but not too far for him to age too much. You spared a small glance to the cuffed and unconscious Barry Allen on the ground. It hurt your heart to see him vulnerable like that, but Eobard had confided to you his suspicions regarding this Barry Allen. One Barry Allen problem at a time. Taking a breath in, you remained silent and studied the two speedsters that confronted your speedster.

“Let it go.” Barry grabbed onto the speedster’s shoulder, holding her back. Oddly enough, Barry’s words coldly cut through you. 

“Now,” Eobard’s cocky attitude returned to him as he established the safety of your presence. He had that kind of affect, putting himself on the air of superiority and intellect with his attitude and words to belittle the person in front of him rightly so to get the desired reaction he wants and anticipates. Eobard knows how to tug on Barry’s strings. “Who's your friend? Let me guess. Jesse Chambers- No. Maybe Lawrence. Wait- Danica Williams-”

“-It doesn't matter who she is.” Barry cut off Eobard’s rattling of names.

You eyed Eobard’s deceptive small smile as he held Barry’s gaze then turned to the young adult. The female remained silent, avoiding Eobard’s icy eyes. “She's your daughter.” You scrunched your face in confusion before the neurons clicked in your head after a few seconds. Lemme guess, she’s a speedster that ran back in time and met a younger version of her father. Weird flex bro, but whatever. You do you. If I was a speedster, I’d do things differently. Obviously not up to scale what with the tampering that Eobard likes to do with the timeline to get his way with things. “You've brought me your daughter.” Your eyes flickered back to Barry before taking another look at the female and seeing a bit of resemblance, other than the fact that she was a speedster like him. Then the article Eo’s been obsessing about did reveal something true. Barry does take Iris as his wife. The West-Allen family. “It's, um... Dawn, if I'm not mistaken.”

“Nora.” The young speedster forced out after briefly glancing at her father.

“Nora. Oh, that's nice.” Eobard turned back to Barry with a smirk, “At least you still have one.” That’s cruel, Eo. “What- Nora- time travel's so weird-”

“Why did you come here?” You found the nerve to speak up, moving to stand beside the man masquerading as Harrison Wells. I’m not going to be afraid; I can’t always cower behind Eobard if something unexpected happens. I need to take things in my own hands. Even if they do find out about- You cleared any evidence of distress at their sudden appearance from your throat, “What do you want?”

“I need him to fix this for me.” Barry held up a broken tube-like device in his hand.

A thought hit the genius scientist instantaneously, his blue eyes widening. Turning your body, you saw Eobard take a few steps backwards, “No...” The headache didn’t go away, instead intensifying slightly by the second. Negative emotions flooded your system at Eobard’s crippling composure. He shook his head at them. “No, if you're here...” Eo turned to face the unconscious Barry, cuffed to his motored wheelchair, pointing to them and him. “And he's here... that means-”

“-You don't get home.” Barry simply stated. Your heart shook, terror and dread feeding into your system at his words. Uncertainty of the future- your future with Eobard- plagued you. How does this all end?

“I get home!” The yellow speedster whipped his head around in agitation, his voice raising with every statement. Barry smirked cruelly as he shook his head. You held your breath at Eobard’s spiking wrath, you hadn’t seen him this angry since General Eiling’s interference with The Flash and Plastique. Even then he’d mask his resentment to pull the strings in the game strategically. “I get home. I go home! I get everything-”

“-You don't go home, Thawne.” The Scarlet Speedster halted the Man in the Yellow Suit. Eobard clenched his jaw. You reached out a hand to rest it on his arm in an attempt to calm him. His eyes met yours for a fraction of a second. You felt the tension hang heavily in the air. “Unless… you help me.” Barry held up his broken device once more, mockingly this time. Your eyes flickered to the ring on his right hand. Similar to Eobard’s. A future version of Cisco must have been able to figure out how to use microtech to compress Barry’s suit. He’s the greatest mechanical engineer that I know. Eobard’s shoulders sagged a fraction as Barry held his ground. Turning around, the genius scientist rubbed his face before kicking the spare Barry in annoyance. Barry, all clad in black, winced because he probably ended up feeling that kick. You and Nora remained silent, eyeing the exchange between both speedsters.

Eobard shifted his body back, hands on his hips and fueled hatred present in his eyes. “What do you want?”

“Like I said, you're gonna fix this for me.”

“To do what?”

“Drain dark matter.”

What could Barry possibly need with Dark Matter? Hasn’t it done enough damage? “Whose dark matter?” You crossed your arms with the tablet close to your chest, a frown on your face as Eobard stepped beside you once more.

“None of your business.” Barry sneered at you. You narrowed your eyes at his demeanor, the young man who you gradually grew close to and considered as another brother like Cisco.

“Barry-”

“-It is our business.” Eobard retorted, taking your hand in his tightly. Both men were frustrated at the others persistence.

“No, it's not.”

Eobard started, letting go of you and rounding heatedly on to Barry, “There's no chance that I help you-”

You reached a hand out. “-Eobard, don’t-”

- It's none of your business-”

“-Cicada's!” Nora blurted out. Silence filled the room between the four of your, outbursts settling. You blinked a few times, taking a step back and resting a palm against your temple. Grimacing, you cast your eyes down as images of a half-masked man in green stood with a dagger. A glowing dagger with a look of emptiness and death in his eyes. That man looks dead to the world, as if willing to kill for an estranged purpose. It’s so cold. You shook your head subtly and stood your ground, unwilling to show weakness, but you saw Nora’s eyes shift when she looked at you. Barry eyed his daughter with a sort of incredulous look while a calculating and analytical look flashed through Eobard’s eyes.

“Cicada's.” The name seemed so familiar to Eobard as it easily slipped of his tongue. The hushed tone in Eobard’s voice expressed a calm before the storm. A deceptive man full of secrets and knowledge of many, many years to come. Especially when it came to The Flash. “The one who got away. You want to destroy Cicada's dagger, don't you?”

“We want to save lives.”

A cynical laugh leaves your speedster’s lips as you pursed yours, trying to tease out the logics from Barry. “You want to save lives.” Eobard chuckled mockingly at Barry’s response. “I bet you do. I bet you do. Especially your own, right, Barry Allen?”

“Look, that me,” Barry pointed to the other version of himself in the room, “he's gonna wake up soon. He sees me standing here, your whole timeline is gonna be blown to hell. You're never gonna get home. You know that's true!”

“I know! I know!” Eobard sighed, his facial expression contorted, and his eyes held a different motive as he flicked his gaze to Nora, who hadn’t stop taking glimpses of you. “Where are my manners? Can I get you a cup of water?” You rolled your eyes at Eobard’s ploy.

***

The four of you had moved to the small lab, far from the Cortex in avoidance of Caitlin and Cisco. The timeline was a fickle thing to speedsters, Eobard had told you that. But oddly enough, when it came to Eobard it seemed to be malleable to his every whim. Tools and spare wires littered along the desk your speedster boyfriend was working at. The monitor held a camera feed of the Time Vault where Barry’s unconscious younger version was still unconscious.

How hard did Eobard hit him? Like, how the hell is he still asleep even through all that yelling and seething??

“Here,” you handed Nora a bottle of purified water.

“Thanks,” she quietly spoke, you nodded at her. You really didn’t know what to think about someone who knew you in the future, yet you had no idea who she would be until a few years later. Would I even still be in this time period by then? Or would Eobard had kept his promise? … Nothing’s making any sense right now. You felt frustrated for not really being part of their conversations. You were… just there.

“So, who made this?” Eobard examined the piece of teach as he started working on it.

Barry answered with pocketed hands, “Someone smarter than you.”

“I doubt that,” You snorted as Eobard laughed at Barry’s statement. Leaning against the dark blue beam of the side lab, you crossed your arms avoiding Barry’s gaze when he glanced over to you. You chewed on the inside of your cheek. “If so, then why come here? Why go through all the trouble to come here when you can get help from the person who made it? Why then would you need Eobard’s help?”

“We-”

“It’s… complicated,” Barry sighed before Nora could finish saying anything, pocketing his hands.

“I think that’s an understatement to the type of trouble that seems to find you, Barr.” You crossed your arms. “At least a Time Wraith didn’t follow you this time. Which I’m still having trouble tracking down.” You nodded to his former self on the monitor. Barry rolled his eyes at you.

“You know, Allen,” the yellow speedster wheeled around, electric blue eyes meeting Barry’s green gaze, “for your plan to work, you're gonna actually have to have his dagger in your possession...”

“We've got that covered.”

The villainous speedster raised an eyebrow at the forensics scientists. “You got that covered. How’s that?” He humored them.

“With this.” Nora pulled out a dark piece of metal, holding it out for you and Eobard to observe momentarily.

“What is that?” You piqued up, causing Nora to look over at you. An odd emotion flickered in her eyes. Eobard reached a hand out to it only for Barry to pluck it from Nora’s grasp. Your eyes flickered between the two then back to Nora. She didn’t seem to be cautious around you and Eobard at all. Revealing the reason for aid and showing Eobard exactly what he seemed to want to see. You weren’t a genius, but you obviously saw the pointed looks that Barry subtly gave his daughter. The cogs were turning in your head as well as in Eobard’s. He masked his growing speculation about the two speedsters.

“Is that-”

“It's a piece of Savitar's suit, yeah.” Barry stoically responded, since Nora had already shown Eobard the metallic piece, to Eobard’s oncoming question before he could even finish. Barry knew Eobard recognized the object, shaking his head that that cat was out of the bag for this secret too.

“Savitar?”

“Savitar. The Future Flash and the self-proclaimed God of Speed, kitten,” Eobard simply explained as he worked. Images of a metallic suit flashed through your mind as it hummed with energy; a familiar face shrouded in shadows and a hauntingly course voice. “A twisted time remnant of the man you know to be your friend. Another big bad that Barry’s had to face in the future, primarily due to the mistakes of his growing unhappiness. Isn’t that right, Flash? The pain you’ve caused the people around you just for you selfish wishes.” Barry rolled his eyes but remained silent.

“Eobard, play nice,” you scolded the older man, “they’re still guests here after all.”

“Hmph. You know what's funny about your dad, Nora,” the futuristic genius caught her attention, “is he hates me. Hates me with a passion, and yet a version of him, this Savitar, is a much bigger jerk than I ever was. Did you see the face?” Eobard gestured to his own face, primarily to one side of his face while snickering “Did you- did you see the, like, pizza face-” Nora awkwardly stepped from foot to foot, looking away.

“-Pizza face?-” Eobard Tiberius Thawne you owe me so many fucking answers when we get home because these images aren’t making as much sense as they should.

“-Can you hurry up?-”

“-Yeah, I'll hurry up.” Eobard smugly nonchalantly threw the tiny screwdriver onto the desk. He picked up a different on. “I gotta tell you, Allen, using Savitar's suit, it's a smart idea.”

Barry tilted his head to his daughter. “It was hers.”

Eobard gave her a hard look. His eyes flickered towards you then turned around. “Clever girl.” You picked up an odd indication in his tone. The speedster narrowed his eyes at the tech as he ignited it, illuminating in his hands to signal its functioning aspect. On the monitor, the four of you noticed that the other Barry was coming to consciousness. Eobard inhaled silently. “Oops.” Eobard swiveled his body around to hand them the piece of tech. “Gotta go.” Barry narrowed his eyes, quiet hatred behind them as he took the tech from his nemesis. “I still look forward to seeing how this all pans out. Nora. Kitten, make sure they see their way out,” Eo glanced at you one last time before speeding away in a torrent of red-lightning to the Time Vault. The three of you watched as the villainous speedster reclaimed his rightful place, crossing his legs once more. An analytical look across his features.

You spoke before the two speedsters sped away in a torrent of lightning. “Cicada’s the one with the lightning-shaped dagger, the one that glows ominously? Heartless eyes? Breathing problems?”

“Yeah? How did you…?” Nora trailed off. Barry figured that your powers were still manifesting themselves and it seems that their run back in time has triggered sporadic post-cognitive images to be revealed through certain key words.

“It doesn’t matter how-,”

“Your powers are still developing,” Barry interjected, pocketing the tech safely. “It seems that our visit has amplified what you can do. Let’s just what it doesn’t shift anything else”

He knows about my powers… Right, time travel. “Just be safe. I-I don’t know too much and I’m not sure what the future holds, but whatever trouble you two have run into just be cautious. Not for me, but for the ones you love. The past will always have some sort of domino effect to the future. I may not be able to time travel, but Eobard has taught me a thing or two about it.” You stopped, looking off to the side while rubbing your arm. “Barry?”

“Hmm?”

“Just answer me this one thing.”

“… It depends.”

“I know, timeline and speedster stuff. But…” You took a breath in, “Is he safe?” The speedster avoided your eyes. You swallowed thickly, moving your gaze to Nora. “Does he live?” She opened her mouth a fraction, moved by the desperation evident in your eyes

“I can’t answer that.” Barry whispered without hesitation, an alien emotion behind those eyes, replacing the kindness and warmth the Barry you knew had. It was bitter. “Nora, it’s time to go back to the night it all began.” Barry flashed away to the pipeline. Nora remained.

“I’m sorry,” She whispered, your body felt numb at the absence of answers. You turned back to the monitor, running both hands through your hair before picking up a spare tool and frustratingly throwing it at the wall. Picking up the tablet once more, you ran some algorithms and diagnostics privately on your powers as you made you way to the Time Vault.

Eobard’s head perked up in question at your entrance. He remained seated catching your troubled look. You only whispered, “We need to talk after this is over,” before leaning against the wall and tapping at the screen of your tablet. He hadn’t missed the embittered look in your eyes, the prominent frown on your face. A peculiar emotion hidden behind those lovely eyes of yours when the speedster had been so accustomed to seeing lights and twinkling of stars within your irises.

Eobard rubbed his wrist as he attained messy hair due to Barry and Nora’s revelations. You speculated he had been running his hands through it in thought as he tried to decipher the truth and what his next plan of action would be. King vs King. Eobard and Barry. It was a dangerous game and it’s clear that Team Flash are Barry’s pieces to move while Iris was by his side. From the future’s perspective. But you… at this point, you hazard a thought of what Eobard saw of you as. Queen… or Pawn. Pursing your lips, you shoved those thoughts away as your mind reminded you of all you and he had gone through since he had revealed himself and his truth to you. But right now, you were feeling so conflicted and insecure at how everything would play out. He promised to take me home with him… That we could start a life together. I don’t want to be used up and thrown away again. I’m tired of being broken and alienated.

The restrained Barry shifted once more in abrupt confusion as he found himself slumped against the cool metal of Eobard’s motorized wheelchair. A prop to his act. His mind felt foggy and arms felt heavy, particularly his right hand. You stopped tapping and eyed him indifferently because you really had no idea how to feel, but you realized you need to be cautious with how you act and what you say until you and Eobard clear things up from earlier events.

Barry’s eyes darted rapidly to the seated, smirking speedster in front of him then to you then to the metacuffs before lingering back to Harrison. The Scarlet Speedster assessed the guarded expression on your face. You saw this Barry feign confusion, eyebrows raised as he eyed the metacuffs and Dr. Wells. You cracked your neck as Eobard did a little hand-wave gesture to Barry. The young speedster looked baffled, probably at getting caught, as he opened and closed his mouth.

“Now, who are you?”

#harrison wells x reader #harrison wells #harrison wells imagines #harrison wells fanfiction #harribard x reader #eobard x reader #eobard thawne x reader #eobard thawne #eobard thawne imagine #harrison wells imagine #harribard eowells x reader #harribard eowells imagine #harribard eowells #harribard #the flash #Nora West-Allen #barry allen #the flash x reader #the flash imagine #DC comics #dc #DCTV #dctv fanfic #Reverse Flash #the flash cw #team flash x reader #team flash #team flash imagine

[iwrestlenow]

Many More To Die, Chapter 7

TITLE: Many More To Die (Chapter 7)

FANDOM: Sanders Sides (Necromancer AU)

SUMMARY: The secret history of Logan and Roman begins to come to light while little pieces of Roman's world start to fall apart around him, resulting in a late night confrontation that exposes Roman's role in reuniting Virgil with his big brother.

SHIPS: Logince (Logan/Roman), Moceit (Patton/Janus) and future Dukexiety (Remus/Virgil)

WARNINGS: MORE CHAPTERS INCOMING, ‘cause this was getting super bloated. IDK, I just have a lot of feelings, and I’m rushing ‘cause I want the boys to kiss and be happy so I can start my series of smutty one-shots...I mean, what? >.> <.< XD

Also, no betas, we die like men.

NOTES: This is based on the gorgeous piece of art by @gretacticdraws that can be found here. I ended up writing a ficlet for it, and then my brain got swallowed up. Breathe at me wrong, and I’ll write more…hell, who am I kidding? I’ll write more anyway because this? Is self indulgent drivel. XD

Also located at AO3 over here.

1020, A.A.

“Hold on...just hold on...”

It took all his effort to stay calm, keeping the rhythm of his compressions steady the way Remus taught him. It was different, watching his twin tap-tap-tap the chest of a tiny kitten and blowing a careful stream of air into its snout—this was a boy, an entire person and his skin was pale as marble, lips tinged the blue of Father's lapis ring...

The body under his hands spasmed, a gush of water suddenly erupting from his mouth. Thinking as quickly as he could, Roman tipped the boy's head to the side so he could spit the water on the grass beside the river that ran behind the palace, and not swallow it back into his lungs—but you couldn't swallow things into your lungs, could you? Was it wrong? Was he doing this wrong?

...pulse. He should feel for a pulse, right? That's what Remus said...

Roman pressed fingers to the boy's throat, sagging when he felt the rapid flutter of a heartbeat there...at least until the boy twisted away and scrambled back, still hacking and shaking from the chill air and his sodden clothing.

Blue eyes met green, and eleven year old Prince Roman Sanders was struck breathless by the most beautiful person he had ever seen in his short life.

“Careful—it's all right, I won't hurt you.” he soothed, raising his hands and remaining on his knees. “I just want to make sure you're okay.”

The other boy blinked, water dripping off clumped eyelashes like diamonds falling to roll down his wet cheeks. He had jet black hair, plastered to his head, and even with his heart beating again, his skin was still so pale. His eyes sparkled like the river water itself, clear and bright and so blue it almost hurt to look at them.

“I...was dead.” the other boy hiccuped, bringing a hand to his chest as his brow furrowed in confusion.

“I...well, yeah. I mean, your heart wasn't beating, so I used the vital breath to make it start again. My brother taught me.”

The boy blinked, his thin but well formed lips drawing into a curious pout that made him flinch, made him reach up and touch his lower lip—sporting a shallow cut that matched one on Roman's, where he'd been a little too forceful pressing his mouth to the boy's so he could force air into his lungs.

“You...you brought me back from the dead.”

Roman blinked—but when he said it like that, he supposed that he had. Wow.

“I didn't use magic.” he said instead of...literally anything else. “I swear it.”

“On the Spider's Thread?”

“What's that?”

“The bond that unites souls.” the boy explained. “It's the most sacred oath in the world, 'cause if you break it the Fates will tear you from the Living Tapestry.”

“What's the Living Tapestry?” Roman asked, shifting to edge closer to the boy.

“The world.” he replied through chattering teeth. “And all the people in it...and you stopped them. You stopped Fate.”

“But—I didn't use magic. I didn't...really stop Fate, I...I just...you were floating in the river, and—I had to try.” Roman explained, feeling strange with all this talk of bonded souls and raising the dead, and how pretty the boy was.

“Is...is that okay?”

The boy watched him with a look Roman couldn't make heads or tails of...but after a moment he nodded.

“It's okay.” he assured him, shifting onto his knees slowly.

“Good.” Roman replied, then winced a little when the clickclickclickclick of the boy's chattering teeth became audible.

“You're so cold—you'll catch your death without some dry clothes.” He looked down at himself—equally wet from diving into the river to pull the boy out. “I could bring you back to the palace to dry off and--”

“I can't go there.”

Roman flinched at the forceful way he said it, harsh and tinged with fear. He didn't need to be his brother to connect the dots.

The boy knew a lot about death magic, and he was afraid of the palace. He was Necromata...but he was small and beautiful and shivering, and he wasn't sure anyone so awestruck by the vital breath, of all things, could be as evil as he'd been raised to believe.

Could they?

Roman thought for a moment, then struggled to his feet and started pulling off his tailored white tunic, leaving him in a simple black cotton undershirt.

“What--”

“I'm going to walk you home.” Roman insisted. “You're in no shape to be by yourself—and if I'm dressed like a citizen, no one will recognize me as a prince! You'll be safe.”

The boy watched him as he finished stripping off anything that would mark him as nobility, even discarding his boots so he was walking barefoot. When he was done, the boy was still kneeling on the ground, just...staring at him.

“What?”

“You said 'citizen.' Not 'commoner.'”

Roman made a face. “I don't like the word. I don't think people are common—I like to watch the roads from my bedroom window and imagine all the stories that the people who travel them have to tell. Common people are boring, and how can anyone with so many stories be boring?”

The boy hesitated, but finally started to get to his feet.

“Thank you...apologies. I don't know which prince you are.”

“Roman. I'm Prince Roman.” he offered, extending his hand to the boy to help him up. “And I swear—by the Spider's Thread—that I will see you home safe.”

Regarding the hand thoughtfully, the boy reached up to take it.

“Salutations, Your Highness. I am Logan Crofter.”

Their fingers touched—and Roman's heart froze when the other boy screamed.

********** 1033, A.A.

“At the end of the day, Your Majesty, the truth will come out: you're not merely a pawn of the necromancer. You're in league with him—and the Sanders line will fall from power. After all, twins don't long survive the death of their other half—or so the stories say.”

The words were going to haunt Roman long past the resurrection of his father—then again, so was the broken hand that still throbbed where he'd punched the court mage in a fit of blind fury.

“Roman!”

He stopped in his tracks, finally allowing himself to take stock of his surroundings: he was storming down the corridor that would lead to the north wing, where Patton and Logan were being kept. Head still spinning with the angry shouts and protests of both royal advisors and soldiers loyal to Colonel Mori, he'd fled the crowded throne room after breaking the mage's jaw with only the sound of his brother's cackling to comfort him.

Without his permission, his feet were trying to carry him towards the necromancer—towards Logan.

The one who was depending on him. The one who was helping him...the one...

Footsteps pounded behind him. His eternal, steady awareness of his own twin was all that kept Roman from being startled by the hand that grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.

“Roman.”

Remus stood there in front of him, hands on his shoulders, wearing an uncharacteristically sober expression. For one moment, in his mind's eye he saw Logan and Virgil, somewhere in the palace, having a similar encounter—the image had clung to the back of his thoughts since a discreet intrusion from Remy let him know that Logan was okay, his hope for both of them a fantasy he couldn't stop himself from willing into reality.

Logan had his brother back. Virgil had his...the notion of it made Roman ache, brought him dangerously close to thinking about things he couldn't entertain. Not a hint, not even a memory.

Hold on.

Do not let go.

I never have...I never will.

Roman was clutching at Remus's hands on his shoulders before he could stop himself, staring down his twin. For a second, Remus's eyes widened and his gaze grew distant—looked at him like he wasn't there, didn't seem to see him through whatever wheels were turning in his head...

Then the wall came down, his hands slid away from Roman's...his arms opened, and Roman collapsed into them. He felt the tears fall, then stream, then shook with sobs torn from his marrow. The dangerous memories fell away, replaced instead by the chill of the king's lifeless body, the stillness in Roman's arms, the stiffness of rigor setting in as he held him close before the guards forced him back into the castle.

His father was dead.

Father was dead.

Father was dead.

In the heart of the palace, Roman came apart, and Remus gently put him back together with strong arms, soft words, and shared pain.

********** 1021, A.A.

“You're sure this is all right?”

“Of course not.”

“Then why am I here?”

“Because I wish it.”

The pair were walking by the river, Logan's request. He wouldn't tell Roman anything more than that he had to do something as part of his training, and that he wanted Roman's help. Logan's Grandpap didn't know he was doing it, Roman lied about being sick to get out of his lessons and sneak out for the afternoon...

It was confusing as hell, and Roman would be a lot more afraid of the chances he was taking if it were anyone but Logan asking him to do this.

“But what if your Grandpap finds out about...whatever we're doing, and you get in trouble?” Roman protested.

“Then he can...”

Logan trailed off and stopped walking with a  frown before fumbling with uncharacteristic clumsiness to reach into his pocket for the vocabulary cards that had been a staple since Roman started teaching him outsider slang. The clumsiness came from reaching into his right pocket with his left hand—because his right hand was busy being firmly enmeshed with Roman's.

“...'deal.'” Logan finished once he'd pulled the cards out and read the top one. Glancing up to meet Roman's gaze, he offered him the small, triumphant smirk that anyone else might read as arrogant confidence. Roman knew it was all Logan allowed himself in moments of triumph—pride in the hard-won victories.

“You've been studying.” Roman observed, doing a miserable job of hiding a smile.

Logan stopped in his tracks, released Roman's hand, and shuffled through the vocabulary cards for another one, speaking as he displayed it for Roman's evaluation.

“'Duh.'”

Roman dissolved into giggling, and on impulse reached out, pulling Logan into a hug. The ten year old boy immediately tensed, breath stilling at the unexpected embrace.

Roman didn't let go, but he did loosen his arms for Logan's benefit. He waited to see if he'd bolt or...

Roman watched the vocabulary card flutter to the ground as Logan let them go, and very deliberately wrapped his arms around Roman's waist, laying his cheek against Roman's shoulder. He was still tense, but held on.

“Too much?” Roman asked softly.

“Yes.” Logan replied.

“Hurts?”

“Yes.”

“Should I stop?”

“...no. I...”

“Breathe, Logan. Remus says it's important to breathe—and important to take it slow 'cause you're touch starved.” Roman reminded him. “I'm sorry I didn't ask first, but I really don't want to hurt you. I'll let go if you ask me to.”

“I know, just...”

“What is it, Logan?”

“...more.”

The way his voice fractured and his arms reflexively tightened broke something inside of Roman as he did as he was asked: held tighter, pressed his face to Logan's hair, stood still and gave hugging his best friend his whole attention.

That was the moment Logan let out a shaky sigh and sagged in Roman's arms. He didn't know what it was, but he had to be thinking about touching Logan for it to stop hurting. Sometimes it was still too warm and too overwhelming, but it didn't seem to hurt him as bad when he was just standing there, willing his whole attention into Logan.

“...it's the Warping.”

Roman frowned a little, lifting his head just enough to rest his cheek against Logan's hair instead of his whole face. “What?”

“The Warping.” Logan repeated quietly, his breath puffing warm against Roman's neck. “I must commune with the dead as part of my training. The fiber strung onto the loom for weaving is called the warp, while the fiber that is strung across this is called the weft. The Warping is preparing myself to learn how to find the Loom of Memory—a state of consciousness where I can work my power properly.”

Roman nodded against Logan's head. “What do I need to do?”

“Just be with me...technically, I am supposed to do it alone, but I researched the ritual, and it is believed that, in the Old Times, a Weaver could bring their Animata to the Warping.”

“But I'm not an Animata.”

“No, but the Animata's defining characteristic was that they were twin souls—and you are a twin. I believe your presence will be acceptable.” Logan replied. “I...am supposed to acclimate myself to the emotions of the dead. It's not really my strongest area—feelings—and...”

Logan didn't finish. Just held on, tensing a little, then relaxing—leaning into Roman's embrace.

“You're afraid.” Roman finished for him softly.

“Fear is an emotion. I feel nothing.” Logan insisted petulantly—and it was petulant with the way he huffed soft against Roman's neck. “Necromancers have no souls with which to feel.”

“So you keep saying.”

“It's true.”

Silence fell again.

“...if I had a soul, however...I would entrust it to you.”

Roman felt something in his stomach tremble at that, soft and shivery and bright.

“Swear it on the Spider's Thread?” he asked softly.

Logan didn't answer right away—as he did with things he was never terribly sure of.

“Grandpap says that the Spider's Thread is woven by Fate, not by magic.” he replied instead of a real answer.

Roman fell silent at that, just holding onto Logan and trying to ignore the way that having Logan close like this, pledging him his non-existent soul, quiet breaths on his neck and head on his shoulder made his chest warm, made his heart do pleasant, squirmy things in his chest.

“Do...you believe in Fate, Logan?” he asked softly, not sure why he suddenly felt like holding his breath. Fortunately, he didn't have to.

Like most things Logan knew—which was almost everything—he answered immediately.

“I have since I met you.”

********** 1033, A.A.

Roman couldn't sleep that night—which was a good thing, seeing as how his room was invaded at three AM.

It happened silently, but he was emotionally raw and vaguely paranoid after what had happened to his father, after the threats made against him and all he cared for by the members of his own guard, his own court—or, perhaps, he just felt Logan's magic still teeming in his veins, keeping his heart beating and his lungs full of air. Maybe the nearness of him set something off, magic calling to magic.

One moment, the dark was empty and gaping like the hole in his chest that lingered ever since his breakdown in the halls with Remus, and the next it opened wider before filling with a presence that teased him with both the promise of danger and comfort.

When the blade touched his throat, he already had his hand under the pillow.

“Virgil, don't.”

Roman expected Logan's voice—he did not, however, expect that Logan had company.

Snapping his fingers to call to life the luminaries in his room, Roman sat up and pulled his hand out from under his pillow, a dagger in his hand and pressed to the hollow of the cadet's throat. Virgil hissed—actually hissed out loud—and backpedaled, his own dagger dragging a thin line against the side of Roman's throat.

“OW! You venomous little shit!” he spat, touching his bleeding neck as he blinked against the onslaught of light.

His hand was jerked away, and cool fingers probed his throat with deft, clinical precision. Abruptly, his head grew foggy with something akin to sleep, but cold and light...Logan's magic working, taking control of him again.

“Relax—I'm not taking your mind, I'm healing you.”

“You're what?! Logan, you're a Weaver! You can't heal!”

Roman had to work at it a little, but his free hand lifted to rub his eyes. When he let it fall again, he had  Logan sitting on the edge of his bed, hand pressed to his chest just below his collarbone, eyes lit up with that dazzling blue-white, misty light again.

“Apparently, I can when I'm animating someone.” Logan pointed out, lifting his hand and running it along Roman's throat. The touch, with Logan so close, raised gooseflesh on his skin—and there was a lot of it, given Roman slept only in loose trousers and nothing else.

Virgil leaned in as he sheathed his dagger, his eyes going wide. “Ohhhhhh, shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit...”

Roman reached up, following the trail Logan's palm had taken—and found no trace of the wound. Not even a scar remained.

What troubled him was that Virgil was right. It wasn't something Roman was allowed to know, something he couldn't glean from the things he read in secret or the tidbits Remus shared from his Anima lovers...and he couldn't communicate how he knew.

Logan looked at Virgil pointedly over his shoulder, then turned back to Roman when his brother fell silent again.

“I apologize for the unexpected arrival, but Virgil insisted on secrecy once he realized he'd been exposed.”

“E-exposed?” Roman stammered, his head still spinning with surprise, the lingering effects of Logan's power, and very genuine confusion. “I don't understand.”

“Yeah, you do.” Virgil snapped, folding his arms. “You knew who I was before Master Picani felt my connection to Logan and outed me in the war room. That's how I got in, and with a shard of Necromatic magic hidden in a healing object, no less.”

Roman felt his blood run cold, and in a manner that was anything but light or misty like Logan's magic.

“Don't deny it: I asked around after Logan got back to Patton this evening. You personally cleared me when I applied to join the guard. Pair that with the fact that Logan remembers the night he was arrested? And you're lucky he stopped me from killing you.”

The world stopped turning in that instant. Everything came to a halt, from the spinning of the earth to the beating of his heart as he met Logan's eyes—those crystal blue depths that he barely kept at bay, the swirling tempest that he restrained for ten years...

Roman balled his hands into fists and tried to remember how to breathe again around the nameless emotion trying to claw its way out of his heart.

“You...remember me, Logan?”

Logan just stared at him, features inscrutable. His brow furrowed, his lips pursed—he was thinking, he was...uncertain.

“I was half conscious in the war room.” he finally replied. “The Spider's Thread—Virgil told me what that oath references. I...I don't remember you, but I feel certain you swore that oath for a reason.”

The nameless feeling in his heart grew claws, ripped and tore and drew blood.

“I did.”

“...how long have we known each other?”

“Ten years. Since the night we met in the dungeon.”

“And in total?”

Roman shut his eyes, bowing his head to avoid that look, those eyes that would unmake him.

“...thirteen. We've known each other for thirteen years.”

#necromancer au #sanders sides #fanfic #ts logan #ts roman #ts virgil #ts remus #logince #this is all the artist's fault i'm just a hapless writer that stumbled across it #my name is liz and i swear to god i will fic again #logan sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders

[allmycrushesaredead]

So me and a group of friends made mechsonas and I wanted to share mine!

Btw, these are picrews i found, not my own work

Name: 火花 影 (Hibana Kage) 

Nicknames: Sparky 

Gender: FUCK 

Pronouns: Fae/faer 

 Age at mechanization: around 26 

Tol or Smol: Around average height? I'm gonna say about 5'5 ish 

Looks: Pale skin. Glowing eyes that change color depending on faer mood, bright blue, curly hair that's cut short in a bob cut. Faer mechanism is the neck, and there are glowing bloodstains below the area. Fae generally wears all black, close fitting clothes that are easy to move around in. 

Personality: Fae may be on the smaller side, but fae will fight you if you're a threat to faer friends or faerself. Very quiet due to past trauma, doesn’t trust easily.

Backstory: Hibana is from the planet 星の花 (Hoshi no hana), or Flower of the Stars. It abounds in vibrant colors and neon lights. Hibana was a doctor before the cyborgs decided to wreak havoc on faer city. All of faer family was killed and fae was left alone. Still fae continued to work in the streets, trying to help anyone who needed it. This meant that fae helped both sides. Although fae held resentment towards the cyborg gangs, fae wouldn't let that get in the way of faer work. Everything was going relatively well until a gang decided to snatch Hibana and take faer to their headquarters to try and fix up a very hurt leader of the gang. When fae told them fae wouldn't be able to fix the damage done, they slit faer neck, leaving faer for dead. 

Extras: Fae is a polyamorous asexual lesbian :)

I also really pieced together faer story and I’ll post it below the cut! Warning tho, its kinda graphic and traumatizing, but I’m proud of it and wanted to show it off!!

Hibana hates technology. 

When fae was seven, the Dākusutā killed faer mom and dad. The Dākusutā was a notorious gang on Hoshi no hana, with connections in the government and nearly every aspect of society. They mainly worked with cyber threats, but kept up a very intimidating physical presence and weren’t afraid of resorting to violence to get things done. 

Hibana’s parents worked as moles, ratting out the most influential people who worked with the gangs. The few respectable government officials left in power would make sure that they got that person removed from power somehow. 

However, as more and more people connected to the Dākusutā kept getting removed from office, the Dākusutā started to get suspicious. When they started targeting the people responsible for removing officials from power, and more and more officials wound up dead, Hibana’s family started to get worried. They went into hiding, moving from place to place when the Dākusutā got too close. And it worked, at least for a while. But they got complacent. The had eluded discovery for a year and a half, and it started to feel like they never would be found. It had been three months since the last move, and the family had fallen into the happy pattern of a simple life.

By the time they finally caught wind of the Dākusutā’s plans, it was already too late. They were already surrounded. With the Dākusutā banging down the door, they hid Hibana, warning faer not to make a sound and to stay hidden until it was safe to come out. So, fae did. Fae cowered in that cold, dark place, sobbing silently. Fae was forced to listen as faer parents begged the Dākusutā to let them live… Fae listened to them die screaming. And the Dākusutā weren’t merciful. They dragged out every last second, executing Hibana’s parents with sadistic pleasure. It went on for hours. Hours went by as Hibana tried to block out the agonizing screams of faer parents. Fae wasn’t naive either. Fae was young, but had seen enough in faer seven short years to know exactly what was happening to faer parents, and fae knew there was nothing fae could do about it. 

Fae felt so utterly helpless. But, fae did what fae knew fae had some control over. Fae stayed hidden and stayed quiet. After faer parents finally went silent, fae didn’t dare move. Fae knew someone could be staying behind to make sure no one came out of hiding when they thought no one was there. Sure enough, another hour went by before fae heard a pair of footsteps shuffle out the door, leaving the house silent. Still, fae didn’t dare move. Another hour went by before fae dared to leave the safe space, heart pounding and tears streaming silently down faer face. 

 No one was waiting for faer when fae walked into the main room. At least, no one alive. Hibana’s parents were in the living room. What was left of them, rather. Fae stared in shock, shaking violently. But fae couldn’t stay and grieve. It wasn’t safe. Fae just ran, a pair of child-sized bloody footprints trailing behind faer. 

Hibana went to the only place fae could think to go: the library. Libraries were practically unheard of on Hoshi no hana, and the few that did remain were viewed as so archaic that no one ever went. But in the few months fae had been in the area, that had become faer sanctuary. Hidden away in the dusty books, fae could escape for hours, lost in distant lands. Fae could be anything, do anything, know anything. All the information fae could ever want was right at faer fingertips. 

So, it wasn’t a huge surprise when fae found faerself at the steps to the library. Hands shaking, fae pushed the doors open, closing it quietly behind faer. 

Silent footsteps padding through the aisles, fae made faer way to the nest of sorts fae had made for faerself. There were a couple of blankets, pillows, and a battered old stuffed toy that fae had brought faerself, but the majority of it was from the librarian, a middle-aged woman named Karui Kibō who looked much older than she was. She was a kindly, sweet tempered lady who always made sure Hibana had enough things for faer nest and food for when fae stayed there for extended periods of time. But she knew not to disturb faer sanctuary and understood it at a personal level. For several weeks, she merely gave a soft smile that crinkled around her eyes, nodding lightly as Hibana walked in. After a few weeks, she would make some small talk, and after two full months, they would end up talking for hours about their favorite books, favorite places, and dreams for the future. Fae even confided in Karui, revealing that fae wanted to become a doctor. It was practically unheard of that someone would study to become a doctor. They had technology that could do that now, AI that could do the job better than anyone could have before. But Hibana was determined. And so, Karui made sure fae could learn to be a doctor. She started to bring books about medicine that fae could understand, making a stack next to faer nest. 

It was now, as Hibana walked slowly over to faer nest that fae saw the growing mound of books. Normally, fae would have rushed to open one and dive straight into the wonderful information it contained. Instead, fae just curled into faer nest, faer shoes sticky with half-dried blood. Fae stared numbly at the bright clashing colors, their vibrant hues sickening. Fae suddenly wrenched them off, chucking them away from faer with a silent sob. Aside from the crash the shoes made colliding with something in the distance, fae didn’t make a sound. Even when Karui found faer, realized what had happened, and had cleaned faer up, fae didn’t make a sound. Fae changed faer clothes, donning the muted greys and browns of the clothing Karui had made for faer and sat silently, staring blankly into space. It was weeks before Hibana spoke again, and moths before fae could hold a conversation. Fae slowly opened up, falling into the pattern of reading, studying, and spending time with Karui. 

Years went by, and the two only grew closer. It was twelve years later when Karui started to get sick, her age finally catching up with her. She knew her time was coming and she was ready. Unlike most on Hoshi no hana, she didn’t fear death. Rather than placing her life into the hands of technology, being programmed and gaining a sort of immortality through technology, she embraced the inevitability of death.

When her time finally did come, she went peacefully. Hibana grieved, of course, but fae knew Karui was at peace. It was then that Hibana vowed fae would never be immortalized as code, living on as programming. Fae would die one day and finally attain that peace. Until then, fae wanted to help people, to ease their suffering. Fae practiced as a doctor, treating those who couldn’t afford or didn’t trust the AI. Fae finally felt fae had a purpose in life. Fae helped anyone in need… even the very people who killed faer parents. And everything was fine… until it wasn’t. 

A few years after Karui passed, Hibana was approached by a member of Dākusutā who demanded that fae come with them. Leading faer to a secluded area, they showed faer the leader of the Dākusutā, bleeding out and quickly losing a lot of blood. They demanded that fae heal him, pulling out a wickedly sharp knife to threaten faer with. Still, Hibana kept faer cool, hands steady as fae attempted to find the origin of the bleed to get it under control. But fae couldn’t find any wounds. The man bleeding out without a single wound fae could see on his body. Unsure of what to do, fae tried to compress the skin, stop the bleeding. It was impossible. The man’s skin simply oozed blood in any place fae wasn’t compressing, and bled through the bandages when she held them to the skin.

It was then that fae realized fae couldn’t save him. The other gang members must have realized as well, because the person with the knife now pressed the blade to Hibana’s neck, blood beading where the sharp metal pierced the skin. They demanded that fae heal him, or that they would kill faer. Fae tried to explain that there was nothing fae could do, but they just pressed the blade harder. Fae closed faer eyes, vowing fae would die silently. Fae wouldn’t beg for mercy, wouldn’t cry out. Fae was ready. 

When the gang member let out a harsh cry and Hibana felt the blade slit open faer throat, fae felt a small smile pass over faer face. It was time. It felt like the cruelest joke the universe had ever played on anyone when fae was given faer mechanism. Fae never wanted to live, fae was ready to go, and yet was forced to live on, immortal, and trapped. 

 That’s why fae refused to trust faer shipmates. Fae occasionally found faerself caring for the others, only for some minor altercation to happen that shattered faer fragile trust. Fae still cared for the others, but fae sure as hell wasn’t going to suffer for it. So, most days fae hid up in faer quarters, packing the shelves with books and building faer nest, hiding away in comfortable solitude. Fae still helped the others when asked with the tech issues, as fae was probably the most knowledgeable in the area, but fae despised every second of it. 

Fae also hid to not show faer weakness. The smallest things could trigger a panic response, leaving faer frozen in flashbacks, never sure what around faer was real. Simple words or phrases would leave faer grabbing at faer throat, clutching that blasted thing that forced fae to live, nails ripping at it in a pointless attempt to make it all stop. 

But fae never told anyone, so it was easier to just hide in faer nest, safe behind this mask of an uncaring persona. Fae would do anything for faer shipmates, but fae never let faerself get close. It just wasn’t worth the risk.

For reference, the gang is ダークスター (Dākusutā) which roughly translates to dark star and the librarian is 軽い希望 (Karui kibō) that means light of hope,or light hope, but the idea of a light of hope sorta thing

If i remember right, Hibana’s name meant shimmer in darkness.

more info!! 

just so yall know, hibana's natural hair and eye colors are blue, so its not that fae dyes it or somethin, fae doesnt have control over it. basically fae doesnt wear bright colors because it reminds faer of faer planet, but fae cant change the fact that faer hair and eyes are colorful, at least not without putting in tons of effort that fae doesnt want to put in to change it

also since faer veins are faer mechanism, faer blood (or ig what you could consider faer blood) actually shimmers and sorta glows like the mechanism on faer neck. so, theoretically, if fae were to blush, fae would basically glow like blues and purples. theoretically. also theoretically, if you were to look closely at faer in the dark, fae almost shimmers a little bit, but very faintly. the most noticable thing you see in the dark is the fact that faer eyes glow, but very coldly, and if fae makes eye contact with you, you probably wont be very calm, you'll probably start freaking the fuck out. its kinda creepy

#the mechanisms #mechs #mechsona #hibana kage

[salsadips]

Years of longing - Kylo Ren

Summary: they’d loved each other many years ago, when he was still Ben Solo. She had tried to reach him ever since he turned to the dark side, but without luck. Now she had been captured by Kylo Ren, in the hopes that she would tell him the whereabouts of Rey. Finally she gets her reunion. 

Word count: 1.6k

Not my gif, creds to the owner

She was strapped to a seat, hands and feet both caught in metal cuffs. 

She looked at him, her whole world feeling like it was complete but crashing down at the same time. He was standing there right in front of her, dressed in black from top till toe. The worst was the helmet. Not only did it make his presence immensely uncomfortable, but she longed to see his face. Though he was changed, his face would still be the same. She was certain. 

“You don’t have to do this. I’m not going anywhere, I finally found you” she told him, referring to the restraints. She had lived without him for so long. Looked for him for so long. She didn’t want to separate herself from him again so soon. 

Figuring that she would never tell him anything while strapped, Kylo made the restraints release her with a flick of his hand and she rose from the chair. 

“Tell me where the scavenger girl is” his voice rang through the room. She wanted took a step back at the sound, but forced her feet to stay put. This was not the voice of Ben Solo. No, this was the voice of Kylo Ren. Her chest started rising and falling way faster than it had only seconds ago, and she could feel the tears slowly pushing forth. 

He had captured her, hoping that she would tell him where he could find Rey. He wanted to destroy the scavenger once and for all. Kylo hadn’t laid eyes upon this girl in front of him since he left Luke Skywalker’s training. He had tried not to think about her ever since. If Supreme Leader Snoke knew about her, he would have Kylo kill her as he’d killed all else that had the slightest possibility of  pulling him towards the light. But now that she stood directly in front of him, not just lingering in his thoughts at night, Kylo felt something he had not felt for a long time. 

Determined not to let feelings cloud his judgement, Kylo simply chose to not look at her differently than any other prisoner. 

“Tell me!” He demanded. She didn’t answer. She was using all her current strength on keeping her tears at bay and prevent her lip from quivering. Did she mean absolutely nothing to him anymore? 

Their life had been so precious once. They’d loved each other and had wanted to spend a lifetime together. That future was long gone now, she knew that, but she refused to believe that a monster was hiding behind that mask. She refused to believe that she would never gaze upon Ben Solo just one more time. 

“It’s not fair that I stand unmasked, while you have the safety of one” she simply said, throwing his question aside. She didn’t want to wear a mask, she just wanted him to take his off. 

His body stiffened at her words. He was able to push all his feelings aside when he was hiding behind the mask that gracefully sealed all his expressions, and he feared he wouldn’t be able to if he took it off. 

When she didn’t get any response from him, she took a hesitating step closer. Kylo didn’t move an inch, so she took another step. And one more. Next step and would lead her to stand right in front of him. No response came from Kylo, she couldn’t even tell if he was looking at her from the inside the helmet. 

After a deep breath she took the last step. He was much taller than her, her head only reaching his shoulder. She remembered him towering over her, but it seemed like either he’d grown even more or she’d shrunken. She looked up, meeting the cold gaze of Kylo Ren, and she knew it was her that had shrunken. She doubted no one could feel smaller than she did as she locked eyes with the black helmet. 

Kylo still didn’t move, he hardly breathed. One movement could send all he’d worked for these couple of years crashing down. One touch and he would risk everything. Kylo didn’t know why he had let her get this close to him. They were only standing inches apart, their chests almost touching. He knew what was at risk and he knew he couldn’t afford to get distracted, but for some reason he didn’t stop her when she reached for his hand. 

She slowly pulled the black leather glove off and dropped it on the floor. With shaky breaths, she lifted his hand and just barely made their fingertips touch. The feeling of their skin against each other, still made her stomach feel like it was jumping to lightspeed, even after all this time.

 She looked back up at Kylo and with shaky hands reached for his helmet. She clutched onto each side and gently pressed the bottom that would release the helmet from the rest of Kylo’s suit. Looking right into where his eyes, hid behind the toned glass of the helmet, she slowly pulled the mask off. Her breath caught in her throat once she laid eyes upon his face.

The face that she once had fallen in love with and thought to be so perfect, it was still there. Buried in pain and sorrow, yes, but it was there. All the fear that had roamed through her moments ago, was all gone. She’d wished to lay eyes upon his face again for so long, not much else had been on her mind since he left for what seamed to be so long ago. She let go of the helmet in her hand and it fell to the floor with a loud thunk., followed by complete silence. Only the sound of Kylo and herself breathing heavily filled the room.

As a tear gently fell down her cheek she lifted her hand and connected it with his cheek. She ran it slowly through his hair, the softness of the black waves being so familiar to her, . She felt like her heart would beat out of her chest when their eyes met again. 

Kylo had already lost the fight within himself the moment her skin had touched his, but when her eyes bored into his he knew he had admitted it to himself. The feelings he had felt for her once were still there. Even though he’d tried so hard to compress and deny them, it was clear to him in this moment. 

Her eyes flickered down to his lips for a mere second before finding his eyes again. Without even noticing, as if by reflex, she pulled herself closer to him. She didn’t know if she should take his numbness as a good sign, but at least he wasn’t throwing her across the room. Their noses touched, then their foreheads. She closed her eyes, remembering clearly how it had felt to be so close to him. Another tear ran down her cheek, and without even planning on it, Kylo lifted his hand and brushed it away. She quickly opened her eyes, her gaze representing something near fear. 

She was afraid that the fact that he’d moved, was a sign that the moment was ruined. She feared he would push her away and reach down to collect his helmet from the floor. But he didn’t. His hand stayed gently on her cheek. In a moment of confidence she closed the distance between them completely.

When her lips touched his, butterflies started dancing in her stomach. She couldn’t describe a better feeling than this, and she had never been able to ever since the very first time she had shared a kiss with him. 

Kylo wasn’t sure how to respond at first, but after a second he gave in to the kiss and met her lips with equal passion. Her hands tangled themselves in his soft hair, and his found their way to her waist. The scene was all too familiar to Kylo, and he found himself completely melting into her touch. 

The kiss was passionate, emotional, sad, happy, hungry, intense, longing. They both only realized in that moment how much they’d missed each other, how much they’d wished to be in each other’s arms once again. Her hands fell down around his neck and she tried to pull Kylo even closer. A thousand things went through her mind all at the same time, but one thought stood out between the others. 

Ben. 

Without noticing Kylo had, in the simple act of passion, connected his mind to hers through the force and he heard it as clear as she was thinking it. 

Ben. 

He pulled away quickly, taking several steps back and almost stumbling over a chair. He clenched his teeth as he tried, with a huge amount of strength, to push the light back out that had been creeping up on him. Ben was dead, he had made sure of that a long time ago. He was Kylo Ren, the grandson of Darth Vader. He was only darkness. 

Finally he lifted his head and met the confused gaze of the girl in front of him. She had him in her arms in one moment and the next he was stumbling away from her. Kylo stood up straight. He took two long strides forward and pushed her back into the chair, putting the restraints back on. He collected his helmet and put it on before he left the room without looking back at her. As surprised as she was by Kylo’s sudden actions, she felt something else. A tear rolled down her cheek, but it didn’t represent sadness nor fear. It was hope. It was hope that the possibility of getting Ben Solo back truly did exist. 

#kylo ren #kylo x reader #kylo x rey #kylo imagine #kylo ren imagine #star wars #starwars #the force awakens #the last jedi #the rise of skywalker #rey #rey skywalker #rey x reader #ben solo #ben solo x reader #luke skywalker #poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #star wars imagine #star wars imagines #star wars x reader #ben solo imagine #kylo x you

[sugasweetsubs]

the world is cold and life’s not fair, baby [Yoongi x Reader] pt.3-1

3 | THAT’S THE TRUTH

Demon!Yoongi x Reader - Angst

Rated M (for violence, blood, strong language, mentions of death*)

*more warnings will apply in future chapters

Words: 8k

Pt.3.2 of 4 (previous | next)

As soon as her call with Yoongi disconnects, Y/N sags onto her bed. It wasn’t the most elegant conversation she’s ever had, but it got the job done. Lifting a hand, she pinches the bridge of her nose in an attempt to stem a quickly building headache.

She was going to be seeing him. Today. And that left her both terrified and relieved.

She knows it won’t be easy, but, now that most of the initial shock and anger have subsided, she also realizes that she has no idea what she actually wants to do about Yoongi.

In many ways, it was easier in the beginning, when Yoongi was nothing but the mysterious owner of a fight club. A name to be feared, but nothing more than a name.

But now… now Yoongi is someone who has let her meddle in his life for the sake of her brother; someone who nearly got stabbed for the sake of the search. More simply, and maybe more importantly, he’s someone who made her laugh--at 2 AM in a middle-of-nowhere diner no less--when no one else had been able to do so for a long, long time.

There is no doubt that he’s abrasive, hard to read, and a little too good at fighting for her comfort. But, it was the softer moments in between that kept her from calling the police then, and that keep her from being able to hate him now.

A frustrated sigh escapes her as she pushes herself into a sitting position. She shakes her head and tells herself that none of those things matter. Regardless of her personal feelings for Yoongi, good or bad, she needs him in order to find her brother. That is what matters.

With that as her resolve, she begins to prepare for their meeting.

____________________________________

Yoongi doesn’t handle waiting well. It isn’t long after his call with Y/N disconnects that the itching discomfort of impatience settles deep into his skin. The urges have been getting worse lately. He started noticing them not long before Y/N showed up at his door for the first time; it was only the brief interlude her presence had afforded that distracted him from the growing reminder. But, as history has shown, it is not something he can afford to keep ignoring. Sooner or later he will have to release the pent up chaos that is his power, the only variable is how much destruction he’ll bring when he does it. For the moment, however, the situation isn’t critical. He will deal with it after settling this investigation mess.

Glancing at his clock, he calculates the time he has before Y/N arrives. Judging it to be far too much for him to remain in his office, he takes the opportunity to rise from his chair and exit to where his assistant sits. After instructing the man behind the desk to keep an eye out for the information his sources are supposed to be sending, he weaves his way through the hallways that take him to the main practice room of the compound.

The “room” is more of a gymnasium, a large, open space sectioned off into five different areas. Each corner contains various equipment, with two set up with machines for weight training; one with lockers and benches for fighters to store equipment and rest; and the fourth acting as a makeshift infirmary with cabinets full of supplies for basic first aid, and gurneys for those who can only be wheeled out. The fifth and final area dominates the center of the space, acting as a ring for practice fights. It’s a simple setup, with mats on the ground and a few ropes marking the fighting zone, but it gets the job done.

Even now, two fighters are in the ring practicing footwork. At Yoongi’s arrival, they stop their drills and turn to watch him. One grins and gives a slight wave, the other blanches and looks away. Yoongi gives neither more than a cursory glance, though he notes their movement out of the corner of his eye when they exit the ring and start packing up. Smart people. They know that there’s usually only one reason that Yoongi himself makes an appearance in the practice room.

Yoongi searches the space. It’s a typical day for the club, and as such there are plenty of members walking around, chatting, and making use of equipment. However, a sudden hush spreads like a wave over the room for a moment as news of Yoongi’s arrival spreads, but sound surges a moment later as they begin to guess at the reason for his appearance. Most try to be discreet, but Yoongi can feel the eyes on him. He ignores the attention and continues his search.

“You," he calls out, finally finding what he is looking for in a young man who sits on a nearby bench, carefully wrapping his hand with support tape.

At the sound of Yoongi’s voice, the fighter looks up and spends a moment searching around, confused. Then he nearly pops out an eyeball when his gaze lands on Yoongi, who stands looking at him expectantly.

"Me?" He has paused his taping and now points at his chest, a bewildered look on his face.

"Yes, you. Ring. Now." The words are short, clipped. Now that the ring is in sight, the itch of his impatience has become a burn.

Startled blue eyes go even wider for a fraction of a second before the fighter's expression shifts into an eager grin, "you got it, boss."

As the man starts to tape his second hand, Yoongi readies himself. He first walks over to a small sink set into the wall near the medical equipment, and scrubs the spill of pen ink off his hand. A faded stain of gray remains, but he is no longer in danger of leaving marks on everything he touches. He then returns to one of the benches in the opposite corner and methodically removes his suit jacket and the white shirt he wears underneath. Despite the screaming need to jump into a fight, he takes the time to neatly fold the clothing and place it on the bench. He then bends to undo the laces of his black leather shoes before sliding both the shoes and the socks underneath the same bench.

Standing, Yoongi catches the roll of white tape that the fighter tosses to him. He makes quick work of wrapping his hands. While he could easily go without it, it is always good to keep up appearances. Finished with the tasks, Yoongi walks to meet the fighter in the roped-in practice ring.

"Gotta say, I've always wondered if I'd get the chance to knock you on your ass," the fighter calls out from the other side of the circle. "Everyone's so scared of you, but if you ask me, everyone has to fall some time." The words are said with an arrogance that can only come from youth. Yoongi wants to laugh.

"Perhaps," is all he says.

They both walk closer to the center of the ring. A woman, who the young fighter calls “Soojin” when she steps into the ring, takes the place of an official. Soojin quickly lays out the terms of the practice fight, accepting various tweaks from both Yoongi and the fighter--who he learns is named Joel. That done, Soojin steps out from the ring and raises an arm to signal the start of the match.

And just like that, they are fighting.

Limbs dance to the brutal grace of an unheard song, arms swinging and feet moving in time with each other. Yoongi is immediately grateful for his choice in partner, because despite the arrogance of his taunting, Joel knows how to fight.

First blood goes to Joel as Yoongi takes his time learning the bounds of his opponent. It is, of course, impossible for Yoongi to go at full strength, so instead these practice matches become an exercise of restraint; the real challenge lies in finding the right balance of give and take to make it appear an even fight.

The next blow is Yoongi’s, and it throws Joel precariously off-balance. He recovers with admirable skill, but Yoongi is already moving in for his second strike.

The match ends sooner than Yoongi would’ve hoped, but they both leave the ring bloody and grinning. The man has talent, but for Yoongi, fighting is like breathing--the human never stood a chance.

____________________________________

Y/N tries to calm her heart as she walks into the building that houses Yoongi’s club. A part of her rages against the idea. Why should she have to work with him, it yells and she is inclined to agree with it. But, the part of her not driven by pride recognizes the truth of the situation: Y/N has no leads on her brother without Yoongi. Besides, she tries to reason with herself, there will always be time to turn him in once she finds her brother.

With that unsound logic to tide over her guilt and confusion, she clenches the strap of her shoulder bag tighter, and walks past the practice ring that connects the main entrance to the halls that lead to Yoongi’s office. Through the haze of her mental pep-talk she notes that the place is livelier than usual. From the snippets of conversation she picks out of the noise, it seems some major fight just ended. If the excited yelling was any indication--it had been a good one. She even passes a man surrounded by mobs of other fighters all talking over themselves trying to ask him questions. Y/N notes, with a rolling of her stomach, that blood drips down the man’s chest onto the floor. But, he is smiling through split and swollen lips while holding a compress to what could only have been a black eye. He seems to be recounting the fight with an energy that made Y/N shake her head, a small smile on her face. She doesn’t linger long, and a short walk later she finds herself standing in front of Yoongi’s assistant.

The middle-aged man behind the desk gives Y/N a complicated look when he notices her presence, which only worsens the awful anticipation that has sweat pooling on her lower back. He turns to the computer before him and his hands fly over the keys for a moment before he returns his attention to her.

“He’s in a mood,” is all he says as he moves to open the door, his tone a warning.

She nods her thanks and ducks through the doorway, praying to whoever might be listening that this meeting won’t be a disaster.

Yoongi tries to ignore the treacherous thrill of anticipation that shoots through him at the sight of the message on his computer alerting him that Y/N has arrived. He surely should not be so eager to see a woman who looked like she was ready to call the police on him the last time they were together.

It isn’t long before there is a knock at the door. It opens to reveal Daniel, who says nothing and instead gestures for Y/N to enter.

She walks in, her hand clenched around the strap of her large black bag, and Yoongi is reminded of the first time they met. Even then, before she spoke a word, he was struck by her presence. He has always been good at reading people, seeing them. Even for one of his kind. And Y/N...Y/N is an interesting case, her aura almost palpable. It is one unlike any Yoongi has ever seen. It hovers around her like a golden halo, and something about its beauty has unsettled him since that first meeting. Over time it only seemed to shine brighter, so bright that, these days, he can hardly stand to look for more than a few minutes. Diving deeper into his memories with her, he thinks back, not for the first time, to the night at the diner. That sudden, stabbing pain with no apparent source...a part of him still isn’t convinced it didn’t have something to do with that brightness. Even now, seeing it again after the time apart makes his head spin.

“Are you just going to stare at me the whole time? Or can we get started?” Y/N’s voice cuts through the silence.

“Right. Come, sit.” He gestures to the chair across from him.

She folds her arms across her chest. “I’d prefer to stand.”

Yoongi hesitates for a moment, grinding his teeth, then nods. He tries to remind himself that she has a right to be standoffish. “Alright.”

There is pause. The tension in it hangs heavy.

Yoongi clears his throat, “I’m--” a pause, “I’m assuming you want me to say something.”

Y/N raises a brow. “No, no you don’t need to say anything,Yoongi, because I'm not here for you.”

Yoongi returns her raised brow.

“In the end, I’m here for my brother. And regardless of how I feel about you, I still need your help,” the words come through gritted teeth.

“I see.” Yoongi takes the time to shift some of the paper on his desk, gather them into a neat pile, and align the edges against his desk. The sharp shick, shick of the papers is the only sound in the room. Setting the stack aside, he leans forward to brace his arms against the polished edge of the wooden surface. He makes every effort to make his attention on her appear undivided, but still a part of him watches with fascination as the very other glow around her grows even more noticeable with her building anger. Interesting.

“What exactly would you like to discuss, Y/N?”

____________________________________

Y/N grinds her teeth. Again. Maybe this is a mistake after all. They’ve been “discussing” (read: arguing) for nearly an hour and have gotten nowhere. Yoongi meets her every argument with a cool retort, and while she knows he has to be just as fed-up with the back and forth, he lets none of it show. As always, Yoongi is frustratingly put-together, and it makes her feel ridiculous for being anything less than frigidly composed. Even the crisp lines of his spotless suit seem to mock her.

“So, just to clarify,” she starts, trying her best to keep the bite out of her voice, “you’re still insisting that you don’t know my brother? After I’ve explained to you over and over who he is? What he did at your club?” Y/N takes an unconscious step closer to Yoongi’s desk, her voice sharpening. “I even spoke to one of your fighters, who I know you know, and he confirmed that you have personally spoken with and fought with my brother in the ring. Broke his arm even!” She stops when she realizes her voice is well above polite volume. She forces a steadying breath before continuing, “how is that possible, Yoongi?”

“To be fair, I’ve broken a lot of arms,” is his tight-lipped response. He closes his eyes and rubs at his right temple in the first show of emotion Y/N has seen yet. “I realize the facts of the situation, but you saying it over and over again isn’t making me remember anything more than what I’ve told you.”

“Bullshit, you’re telling me he was here for weeks and weeks and you didn’t notice him even once?”

Yoongi makes a sound that is curiously like a growl, “do you know how many fighters walk through these doors? I don’t keep personal tabs on all of them.” He continues to rub at his temple and,in a startling realization, she notes the slightest flaw in his otherwise flawless appearance. There, just above where he keeps rubbing, is the faintest trace of yellow-green at the edge of his temple, where skin meets hair. It gives the impression of a healing bruise, and even while most of her mind is consumed with other, much darker feelings, another, much smaller voice whispers its concern for the small hurt.

But even her unbidden sympathy can’t hide her fury, “you keep saying that, but I don’t believe you.” There’s more to this, there has to be. “There’s no way the head of the biggest fighting ring in the city didn’t keep tabs on a fighter who was spying on him for another group.” The act of disloyalty on her brother’s part was a hard pill to swallow, but this rollercoaster of a search has taught her to separate the facts from her reactions to them.

Yoongi stands from his desk in a furious blur of motion and begins pacing the length of the room. On the second turn, she catches a glimpse at the unfocused look in his eyes and it gives her pause, but still she decides to push. “I’ve told you his name, shown you his picture, his records. There has to be mor--”

She cuts off when Yoongi spins on her and pins her with a look that makes her blood run cold and then hot. A whisper in the back of her mind says maybe it is time to go, but then he speaks.

____________________________________

“Will you shut up about your brother for one goddamn second,” the words are spit at her with such force that he might as well be yelling. The unexpected acid of them leaves her feeling like the floor got pulled from under her feet. “Don’t you understand that this is so much bigger than one missing nobody? Your brother didn’t disappear because of me. He disappeared because he got involved with the wrong people and pissed them off,” his face twists with a dark kind of amusement, “and for once I had nothing to do with it so will you back off.”

Y/N is so startled at the sudden outburst that she is silent for a moment before her face distorts with anger. “You’re a disgusting human being, Yoongi. Don’t you dare--”

And maybe because Yoongi is bored, or maybe because he has a death wish, he interrupts her with a bitter laugh. “Oh, but that’s just it. I’m not a disgusting human being, because I’m not even human. Things like me don’t play by your simple ideals of fairness or morality, how many times must I demonstrate that for you?”

“What the hell are you even talking about?” Y/N shakes her head, her eyes betraying her when they start to sting, “no, you know what, at least we agree on one thing. You can’t be human, because no human would be so awful.”

Yoongi latches on to that ever-so-slight waver in her voice and takes a tiny, oh-so-dangerous step closer. Y/N takes a careful step back, not trusting the sudden wild light that enters his eyes. “No, I don’t think you understand.” Another step forward. Another step back. “I’m not human, Y/N.”

Her eyebrows sink low and she gives a nervous laugh, “yeah right, and I’m the President. Stop fucking around, Yoongi.”

“Oh, but I’m being deadly serious.”

Y/N rolls her eyes and turns in an attempt to make her way to the exit. But, faster than her eyes can track, Yoongi grabs her roughly by the arm and spins her back around to face him.

“Just think about it Y/N,” he shakes her arm, “use that detective brain that you pride yourself so much on. You haven’t seen much, but you’ve seen enough.”

She yanks her arm out of his grip and takes a big step back, “Jesus, Yoongi, what the hell are you talking about--”

“Think!” He lets out another one of those frustrated, almost-growls, “the first time you met me, your skin crawled a bit, no? And not just because you were about to meet with a criminal, no it was something more than that. Something that just felt wrong?” Yoongi knew she would have felt it. Animals are more reactive, but humans have the same kind of primal response to his kind, whether they realize it or not.

Y/N freezes at his words, thinking back to the day she first met Yoongi. The waring feelings of disbelief that a quiet well-dressed man could be the leader of such a violent organization, and the intense sense of wrongness that had filled her with irrational dread that day. Before she can process a reply, Yoongi is speaking again.

“The day that we went to the abandoned house,” he starts, edging the tiniest bit closer until her arm brushes against the smooth cotton of his shirt; the heat of him seems to burn through the material onto her skin, “I thought you would be too panicked to notice, but nothing gets past you, Y/N. You saw me get stabbed that day, and you were right, the knife went all the way through. I should’ve died, but it was nothing more than a faint scar just a few hours later. And, you would have only seen it for a moment, but I’m certain you picked up on it: the dark shadows under my eyes that day, too intense to be simple exhaustion.”

Y/N wants to interrupt, to stop whatever this is and have Yoongi go back to normal, but he continues before she can say a word. His own words are like a flood, seeming to fall from his lips without conscious control.

“And haven’t you noticed how things have a funny way of working out when we’re together? Like that postal worker who gave us an address? You don’t actually think they bought that story with the rings, do you?” His smile is mocking and Y/N once again gets that crawling sensation of warning up the back of her neck. “Surely you’ve wondered why the police haven’t shut me down, even though my business is well-known and I make no attempt to hide what goes on here?

“It’s me, Y/N. Everything has happened like this because I made it that way. One of the perks of being what I am.

“I’m sure there are a hundred other tiny things that you could list,” he makes a small flicking motion with his free hand, “all tiny pieces of evidence that you ignored,” he takes another step closer without warning and suddenly his face is inches from hers. His eyes fill her vision and she shudders at the way the dark brown of them appears black, his expression distant, “because human brains have a funny way of twisting things that don't fit their precious reality.”

Y/N can hardly breathe, let alone think, but she has a creeping feeling that she has to keep him talking, so she blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. “What are you?”

Yoongi’s smile splits his face so wide that Y/N flinches at the sight. To her overwhelming relief he takes a small step away. When he releases her arm, her breathing returns in a ragged rush.

“A demon.”

She freezes for a moment, processing. Then, she burns with embarrassment at the declaration. God, she can’t believe he really got her with this nonsense. “A demon? Yoongi, I’m losing my shit here, don’t you dare fucking tease me right now.”

“It’s not a joke, Y/N,” his voice is soft, but not gentle. “I’m a demon.”

She laughs, because it’s the only thing she can do. “And, what, I’m just supposed to believe you? For all I know this is your sick idea of a prank, or maybe some drug-induced fantasy world you believe in. Where’s the proof?”

Yoongi freezes in a way that sends a chill down Y/N’s back. Too still, she thinks, no one should be able to stand so still.  “You want proof? I can show you my true form, but,” he meets her eyes and she wants to bend under the intensity of them, “I have to warn you that humans have been known to go mad from the sight.”

“Wow, you’re really committed to this,” she crosses her arms in a show of bravery that is only skin deep. “Okay, Yoongi, show me your ‘true form’ or whatever.”

It is the wrong thing to say.

When the words leave her lips, Yoongi's expression changes in a way that Y/N has no words for other than "inhuman" as ridiculous as that sounds. He takes a large step back, and the distance allows her to take her first deep breath in what feels like hours. That is, until she takes a closer look at Yoongi.

The first thing she notices are his eyes. The black of his pupils expand, eating up the color of his irises and even the whites, to the point where Y/N can no longer tell if she is looking at eyes or simply dark holes in his head. The veins that sit just below the surface of the skin under those eyes have turned a sickly black, creating an eerie web of bruised-looking skin that is a startling contrast to the sudden and extreme paleness of his face. The next things to catch her attention are his hands. They look almost charred, the skin turning an unearthly black so incredibly dark that they seem to eat away at the light in the room, with the darkest black occurring at the tips of his fingers and fading into an ashy gray before disappearing under the rolled sleeves of his white button-up shirt.

The air in the room grows heavy and hot to the point where it almost hurts to breathe. It seems to roil the way heat does off a hot summer road. The sensation only builds until it is another presence in the room, seeming to crawl up Y/N's arms and down her back, tingling like tiny electric shocks across her skin. She tries to take a step back, to get away from the nightmare emerging before her, but when her back hits the office wall, she realizes with a numb sort of horror that she has nowhere left to go.

At that moment, the thing that used to be Yoongi takes a step back, and Y/N swears she sees embers rise from the ground in a short burst of red and orange. The subtle smell of smoke joins the cloying heat of the air. The thing, she can't bring herself to call it Yoongi, spreads its arms wide, an uncomfortably wide and razor-sharp smile on its face. "What do you think?"

Y/N squeezes her eyes shut, but she knows that these images are already burned onto her brain. “W-what are you?” she stammers, barely finding her voice.

“A demon.” The creature echoes Yoongi’s earlier words, except the voice coming from where the Yoongi she knew had been standing was a distorted copy of his voice. Too deep, too rough, as if it hadn’t been used in a long, long time.

Y/N doesn't feel real. Surely she is having a nightmare and any minute now she'll wake up. When she gets to Yoongi's office she'll tell him that her subconscious paints him as a demon and they'll have a good laugh.

"Sorry, but you're not dreaming.” The thing doesn’t sound sorry at all.

"How did you-"

"My abilities are stronger in this form. I usually only pick up feelings and auras of people, but your mind is shouting so loud that I'm picking up actual thoughts as well." It makes this sound like an easy, natural thing.

Y/N's legs give out without warning and the impact of her knees on the wood of the floor is hard enough that her teeth knock together, but the pain barely registers--her mind too busy trying to comprehend the impossible.

The thing--Yoongi, she forces herself to use his name--crosses his arms, "So, you believe me now."  It isn't a question.

Y/N can barely nod, let alone speak, her vision starting to go fuzzy around the edges. Yoongi's voice sounds far away, and muffled like he is trying to talk through heavy glass. "How," Y/N's voice isn't hers, it feels detached from her body, "how is this possible?"

Yoongi starts to answer, but in the same moment that he takes a step forward, something deep inside Y/N snaps. In a move so fast she doesn’t even register it, she is on her feet and running for the door. Some part of her recognizes that Yoongi could keep her here if he wanted. She had quickly realized that the overwhelming weight and electric heat of the air was stemming from Yoongi, and it screamed of power in a way Y/N only knew on instinct. But, to her surprise, he allows her to run. She is out of the door and through the compound before she can pause to think.

She only stops when she reaches her car in the parking lot. She fumbles with the keys for nearly a full minute before she finally pops the lock and collapses inside. The click of it locking around her loosens one of the knots in her chest, and she allows herself a series shuddering breaths. She wants nothing more than to drive away at speeds that would do more than get her a ticket, but one glance at the uncontrollable shaking of her hands and she knows she won’t be taking the car anywhere.

Instead, she lets her head fall back against the headrest and takes deep breath after deep breath, trying to calm the thundering of her heart.

When she can think past the roaring in her ears, she grabs her bag from the car and exits, keys in hand. She may not be fit for driving, but she also can’t stay here so close to whatever the hell just happened. She’ll walk all the way home if she has to, send someone from work to pick up her car another day. She almost hopes Yoongi has it towed from the lot.

Her thoughts are still a whirlwind when she starts passing through the market district. Even though it’s just barely into the evening hours, most of the doors she passes have their artful signs flipped to “closed.” She passes one of her favorite shops and stares mournfully through the window. A pint of her favorite icy treat really would have hit the spot for this personal crisis. She closes her eyes against sudden flashes of memory, the black eyes and the acrid smell of smoke that still burns in her nose, clinging to her clothes, her hair.

She wants to forget it ever happened, pretend it was all an elaborate prank. But her fear runs too deep, too powerful for it to have been anything but terrible reality. She can’t decide what surprises her more: the fact that demons exist, or the fact that she had almost called one a friend.

Not that Yoongi had really done anything for her to consider them friends, but at the very least she had been starting to almost look forward to their afternoons together.

On the tail-ends of that thought, she starts re-analyzing her every interaction with Yoongi. What had been the signs? Shouldn’t she have known something was so terribly wrong about him?

And maybe it’s because she’s lost in thought, or maybe her body’s warning systems had been overloaded on Yoongi, but she doesn’t notice the screech of tires besides her. She doesn’t hear the mechanical sliding of a van door opening, doesn’t register the shouts of men beside her until it’s too late.

Rough hands clamp over her arms and then her feet are no longer on the ground. She hits the metal floor of the van a second later, her left shoulder crumpling painfully beneath the weight of her body. She is quick to scramble to her knees and is just about to release the scream that had been building in her throat, but before she can make a sound, a large, gloved hand clamps over her mouth with absolute force.

Still, she resists. She kicks and wriggles, bites and even swings her bag at one of the men, hitting him squarely in the jaw with enough force to knock his head to the side. It seems to only have the effect of pissing him off, however, because he draws a sleek black pistol from his back and, in a calculated blow to her temple, knocks her out cold.

The last thing she remembers is the black clouding over her vision. Then there is nothing but black.

____________________________________

Yoongi stares at the door Y/N had run through just moments before. He should stop her, but for whatever reason he lets her go. For an inexplicable reason, he has the feeling that she won’t speak to anyone about what she saw.

Turning from the door, he takes a deep breath, settling into skin that hasn’t seen use in too long. Demons can exist in their more human disguises indefinitely without ill effects, but there’s nothing quite like the feeling of letting the power that usually sits behind walls of controls come to the surface unrestrained.

He pauses mid-step when he spies the burn marks on the floor. Sighing, he makes a mental note to order a repair and draws his power back under careful shields until nothing of his other self remains.

Just then, there is a knocking on the door and, without waiting for a response, Daniel walks in with a handful of files and a judgemental look.

“I see Ms. Y/N left in a hurry today.” A pointed look at the burn marks in the floor as he hands over the files.

Yoongi takes them and grumbles, “not today, Daniel.” The man may have been in Yoongi’s service for decades--serving out a contract that had been initiated out of desperation, in the dark days of the human man’s youth--but he continues to walk a fine line between honesty and insolence.

Daniel simply raises his hands and says, “I’m just making a statement,” before leaving Yoongi alone with the files.

Picking up the first one off the stack, he is surprised to see that it’s from Hoseok. A handwritten note is scrawled across the front of the small envelope, it reads, ‘you owe me -H.’

Inside the envelope sits a USB drive, and Yoongi wastes no time plugging it into his computer. There is only one folder on the drive, titled ‘Nephilim,’ and it gives Yoongi pause. The word itself means ‘the fallen ones,’ but beyond that it feels familiar somehow. The almost-memory of it dangles on the edge of recall.

Within the folder there are two files. Yoongi opens the first and begins to read. It seems to be an excerpt from the journal of a lesser demon who considers themself one of the few historians among their kind. The passage is a record of lesser-known supernaturals and their histories. Yoongi isn’t quite halfway through when he realizes why the word seems so familiar. Nephilim, the fallen ones, is the name given to the offspring of humans and angels.

He had actually met one, in a chance meeting near the dawn of his existence. Young and inexperienced, he had only distinguished the nephilim from the surrounding humans when an older demon had pointed the woman out. She had been old and wisened, and had appeared incredibly weak to Yoongi, but even now he could remember the dizzying feeling that had nearly sent him stumbling when he walked by. The feeling of vertigo elicited by Y/N is much weaker in comparison, but the similarities are something to note. And while the woman hadn’t had that kind of golden glow that surrounds Y/N, Yoongi also hadn’t been as sensitive to auras at the time. Interesting parallels, but nothing conclusive.

He hadn’t been much older the first time he met a true angel. They had been a very old, but low-ranking messenger, and it was only then that he truly understood the power of his celestial counterparts. Angels are, in many ways, the opposite of demons--where demons wear darkness and shadows like armor, angels have weaponized their light. The angel that day had scowled when they came within reach of Yoongi, their beautiful face twisted in much the same way Yoongi’s had been. “You taste of soured petrichor and burning sulfur, demon,” the words had been spit with disdain as the scroll was handed over.

Yoongi hadn’t bothered with a retort at the time, but he still remembers the awful light that flowed from the angel’s skin, a blinding brightness that made it impossible to distinguish anything but blazing eyes of white-gold. Even more than that, Yoongi remembers the scream of static in his ears when the angel spoke, their voice ringing with a high pitched hum that grated like shattered glass on his senses.

His reactions became less intense over time, as he grew older and more powerful, but still he made sure that his meetings with angels were few and far between.

Pulling himself from the memories, he pulls up the second file--a retelling of a folk story from almost five hundred years ago. The story tells of ‘golden children’ and of family lines who were thought to have been blessed by angels. For generations after the appearance of a golden child, members of such families were said to have powers that weakened evil and protected entire towns. Most of the tale could be chalked up to human inventiveness, but there were striking similarities between the descriptions of the golden children of the legend and the nephilim in the demon histories.

Yoongi recognizes the message Hoseok is implying by sending this particular information, but he has a difficult time accepting it. There are similarities between his experiences with Y/N and these tales of human-angel offspring, but there are also enough differences that he doesn’t make the connecting leap just yet.

Moving on to the next file in the stack, he finds it is a personnel record for Y/N’s brother. Yoongi almost skips over it, after all there couldn’t be anything in these records that Y/N herself hadn’t shared, but he pauses when he sees the attached picture.

It becomes immediately obvious that the picture Y/N had shown of her brother was outdated. The man in this photo looks to be several years older, the hair is shorter and an entirely different color, and the man in this photo sports facial hair that hadn’t existed in Y/N’s picture. Yoongi wants to hit himself when he makes the connection between the two faces. Of course this was Y/N’s brother. He hadn’t realized it when looking at the picture she had provided, but he should have known, their faces were too similar for anyone to think them anything but siblings.

More importantly, Yoongi recognizes this face. Remembers clearly keeping an eye on the young and brutal fighter, not only because Yoongi suspected him of being in contact with a rival group, but also because he had almost beaten Yoongi in a fight.

It had been a routine sparring match in the practice ring. Yoongi had been itching for a fight, and the young man had been happy to oblige. Things started off as usual and Yoongi had expected a clean win. But then, when the other fighter had connected his fist to Yoongi’s jaw in his first successful hit of the match, Yoongi remembers being startled by the rolling sense of vertigo that had disoriented him enough for the human to get in several key strikes. Yoongi had recovered quickly, ending the match in a vicious move that had broken the man’s arm, but it was the closest anyone had ever come to beating him in his entire time with this club.

It was a feeling, Yoongi thought in a moment of startling realization, that was identical to the one caused by Y/N.

His eyes drifted to where the historical records were still open on his computer and wondered at the significance of this familial connection. It’s not enough to entirely convince him, but something tells him this detail is important. He puts both the file and the envelope aside for now.

After dealing with a few club-related emails, he returns to the final file at the bottom of the stack Daniel had brought to him. A thin manila envelope with no identifying markings. He reaches inside and pulls out two things that set his blood to a boil.

The first, is a note. Scrawled in a messy hand, its message is short and to the point. ‘We have the girl.’ Below that ominous statement is an address on the other side of the city and a time for the following afternoon.

The second, is a photograph. Yoongi immediately identifies the woman in the picture. Y/N. Bloodied. Tied to a chair. Her head lolled forward in a way that speaks of unconsciousness.

Yoongi’s anger is a cold thing in his bones, but it burns hot on the surface, setting the photo in his hands ablaze until all that remains of it is a pile of ash.

He is moving a second later, exchanging his suit jacket for a rugged leather one that is less likely to show the signs of a fight. He is out of the building before he can register the decision to do so.

His only coherent thought is that the people who took Y/N better hope she is alive when he finds them, because it’s the only thing that might ensure them a quick death.

____________________________________

Y/N wakes suddenly, and she immediately regrets it when she registers the pounding in her head.

It takes her several too-long moments to remember the events of the day, but when she does, they return to her in a rush. The call with Yoongi, the nightmare of his reveal, the terror of being thrown into the floor of a van.

She attempts to blink through the pain radiating from her temple throughout her skull, but nothing she can do will clear the ache that’s so sharp it blurs her vision. She notes, with a numb sort of calm that she is alone in a dark, unfurnished room. She sits in a chair, her hands bound behind her with a tight looping of rope that bites uncomfortably into her skin. She knows even before she starts to pull, that her attempts at freeing herself will be useless. She makes the attempts anyway.

She doesn’t know how much time passes, her head making it impossible to think coherently, but it feels like hours have gone by when the only door in the barren room opens. She is blinded for a moment by the light that leaks in from the hallway, and the disorientation is enough that she doesn’t immediately register that someone has entered the room.

“Good, you’re awake,” a gruff male voice breaks the silence. She struggles to focus on the speaker’s face, but it proves to be pointless as his features are hidden behind a black mask that leaves only his eyes visible. “We have some questions for you about our mutual friend.” The masked man takes up a position on the wall opposite of Y/N, folding muscled arms over a wide chest in a black long-sleeved shirt.

Y/N stays silent.

“The shy type, huh? That’s fine,” he reaches into one of the pockets of his black cargo pants and pulls out a pocket knife, “we have ways to encourage talking.” The silver blade of it flashes in the air in a motion so practiced that Y/N feels sweat start to build on her neck.

“What--” Y/N’s voice comes out hoarse, her throat too dry. She tries again after swallowing, “what do you want from me?”

“Smart girl,” her stomach rolls at the appraising look he gives her, “we just want to ask a few questions.” He pushes off of the wall and comes to crouch before her, pulling down the mask from his face to reveal a startlingly handsome face full of clean lines and full lips. He plays the tip of the knife over the knee of her jeans, and it takes every ounce of willpower she has to remain still and silent. “Let’s start easy. Why has that bastard been looking for us.”

In this position, Y/N is almost eye-level with him and she pours every bit of her fury into her gaze. She wants to spit on him in answer, but the blade on her leg suggests that that may not be the smartest course of action. She decides instead for compliance--for now. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you and your people have been plotting his murder.”

The man’s eyes widen a fraction, then he grins--and it’s a dark, slimy thing. “Oh, you’ve got a mouth, huh?” He holds her eyes for a tense moment before breaking the contact to rise to his feet. Back to her, he continues, “And how, exactly, did Mr. Min learn about this plot?” He turns to face her, the smile still on his face, “could it be that, like brother like sister, we have a leak on our hands?”

At the mention of her brother, a guttural sound leaves her throat before she can stop it.

“Oh, sorry,” he says with mocking sincerity, “that’s a bit of a sore subject I see.”

“What the hell do you know about my brother?” Y/N snarls, the force of her anger overwhelming the throbbing pain of her head.

“I know he was a two-timing nobody who got in over his head.” He begins to walk the length of the room, his pace unhurried and even, “I know that he was a loose end. Just like you are now,” he doesn’t miss a step when he turns to shoot her a knowing smile. “I also know that my employer doesn’t allow loose ends,” he steps forward suddenly and captures Y/N’s jaw in a loose hold, “even pretty ones.” The warmth of his fingers is like a brand on her skin and Y/N struggles against his grip, only succeeding in sending a shooting pain down her neck when it twists at an awkward angle.

“Tell me,” he says, his eyes filled with an odd kind of light when he yanks her face back to his; their breaths mingle in the bare few inches between them and Y/N fights the urge to hold her breath in protest to the uninvited intimacy of the action, “would you like to meet your end in the same fashion as your brother, or shall we think up something unique for our new guest?”

Y/N’s body reacts before her mind, her eyes starting to burn before she has even processed the words, but the tears don’t fall. No. It couldn’t be.

“You’re lying,” her voice, whisper soft, is fierce in its conviction.

“Afraid not.” The man, who seems endlessly cheered by her suffering, smiles again, but this time his eyes fill with a darkness that makes her body shudder as if overcome with a sudden chill. She can feel her mind spiraling, barely focusing as he continues to speak. A large part of her absolutely refuses to believe his words. Her brother can’t be gone. She would have felt something, right? Her world couldn’t just lose one of its core foundations without crumbling, could it?

“You see, your brother was just a little too smart for his own good. Even knowing about the plan to get rid of Yoongi probably wouldn’t have been enough of an excuse to get rid of him. We knew we were at no risk of anyone finding evidence to back his claims.” A small silence where his face fell into a mockery of sadness, “no, your brother was killed because he didn’t stop there. He kept digging and found a secret that is better left buried. And for that, he had to die.”

Y/N feels beyond numb by the time he stops talking, the words falling around her without reaching her. Just like in Yoongi’s office, she has the feeling of being outside of herself, watching all of these horrible truths drop onto the slumped shoulders of a woman broken.

“Oh don’t look so down, doll.” She observes with curious detachment as her head is lifted by a finger under her chin. “If it makes you feel better--”

In that moment he is interrupted by the muted sounds of something being broken and someone shouting. Just as his head whips around to face the sound, the door bursts open and a wild-eyed woman sticks her head in only long enough to gasp out, “we have a situation,” before disappearing back into the light beyond.

The man in front of Y/N releases a frustrated yell, the unexpected loudness of it makes Y/N flinch, then sag in minor relief when he releases her chin. Only for that relief to bleed out of her moments later when, after a brief conversation with the woman in the hall, the man returns and draws his gun.

“Looks like our time’s been cut short.” He walks forward, the weight of his boots making the thud of every step fill the room. Each footfall closer has Y/N’s heart trying to claw out of her chest. “I’m looking forward to continuing this later, but, first, you don’t need to see this.”

Then, in a movement so fast that Y/N doesn’t even have time to flinch, he brings the butt of the gun down on her temple and, for the second time that day, her world flickers to black.

____________________________________

*A/N* Sweet jesus it's up. Guys, I'm never joking about taking another year to update again, because apparently I cursed myself. I hope this makes sense, I'm constantly trying to walk that line between "don't let it quite make sense yet so it all comes together later" and "this straight up doesn't make sense," so please, if it's too confusing don't be afraid to ask, I'll answer what I can or let you know that an explanation will be coming later!

Thank you so much to everyone who has been patient with this series, because I know it's taking forever and it's hard to wait. Your comments are what give me that extra kick in the butt when inspiration is there but I can't write, so thank you for the lovely words TT

Not to curse myself again, but I'm planning to finish this up before fall hits.

As of the most recent draft, there will be four main parts in total + an epilogue + an author's reflection where I plan to share some behind the scenes and deleted scenes! This chapter is actually cut into two pieces, because it was significantly longer than other chapters as one piece, so be on the lookout for that in a few days! Looking forward to hearing your thoughts!

Thank you!!!

#bts #suga #yoongi #fanfic #angst #demon au #yoongi x reader #seven sins au #my stuff #the world is cold and life's not fair baby #twicalnfb #sugasweetsubs #a little less than a year...TT #better but not ideal #so excited to finish and have it all up! #please come talk to me about this if you like it #I have so many Thoughts #thank you for reading!!

[diamo-chan]

A bit of lore and backstory

(snippet of the ninth chapter of my unfinished unpublished fanfic in the classical trope of “let me put as much info as possible compressed into a tiny dialogue”)

not beta-read/ written on a tired mind/ english is not my native language/ my list of excuses goes on and on...

Word count: 1.7k

It was at times like these when Pheebe noticed that she was way too emotional to do her job the way it should be done. Binding her hair back into a loose ponytail she threw an exhausted glare at the blonde aristocrat who barely lifted his eyes from the book he was currently reading. A if they did not just have a war council, as if death itself was not waiting just around the gates.

“Vlad this is serious. If we want to survive this we have to work together, we have to talk like normal people.”

He turned the page, uninterested. ‘What the fuck was so important, he had to read it now?!’

“I will survive this, I’ve been through worse. And you are just food to us. A blood bag to satisfy Ivan’s needs. Why should I treat you, like you are anything special?”

Pheebe wanted to scream and flee the room. Hadn’t Vladimir disagreed to listen to her plan, they would already be all on their way to a safe place. But no, instead he was clinging to this mansion. They had more important things to take care of. And for once, she knew that Beliath would agree.

This is not about me. It is about Mary. About Ethan. Both are on the edge of death and you talk about waiting and planning”

He turns another page. But she saw the hand that held the book upright tighten against the Bordeaux hardcover. He took a deep breath to maintain his poise, before speaking with the certainty of a head of house, no room for discussion: “Ethan will manage, and if your friend doesn’t make it we can still share her blood, drain her before the battle. But we will not run into a confrontation unprepared!”

The last drop broke the barrel. How dares he even suggest using Mary in such a gruesome way? How dares he put organization above life. And at once, the words poured out before she could stop them. “I cannot understand how you can live with yourself, let alone how other people can live with you. You only care about yourself, don’t you? You don’t give a damn about the suffering of others”.

A reaction. He looked up. There was shock in his eyes, as well as a tiny warning of the storm that was rioting in his thoughts. Through tiny slits and gritted teeth he growled at her.

“You have no idea what it’s like to be immortal. Have you ever watched everyone you care about die, with nothing that you could do to stop it? You know nothing of pain and suffering!” His voice became louder and louder until, at the end, he was screaming in rage, at such a volume that Pheebe was sure, even Ivan in his room two floors above them, could hear every single word. She did not fear his anger, and he was powerless to lift his hand against her. At last, she got what she wanted and he was no longer as emotional as a stone. But he would not guilt trip her with a sad back-story or the typical “I-am-a-poor-misunderstood-immortal”-farce. Eyes hard, she brought her face closer to the blond man’s, who backed away in irritation.

“Do you know what it feels like to drive a knife through the heart of the person you love?”

At first he was taken aback by the question. Then a condescending smirk appeared on his face “Oh, yes, go on. Tell me the story of the vampire that fell in love with a hunter and gets staked down in return.”

Patience! She told herself. Think of him as a child that questions the whole world. “He was sick. Do you know what bloodlust does to a vampire?” His discomfort became more and more apparent. His eyes danced over her face on the search for some kind of weakness. She felt the threatening waves that he tried to sent off, but once again she thanked Miss Ginaldi’s team for her training. Not many Vampires have encountered bloodlust and survived it. None of the ones that Pheebe had known, at least. ”Incurable, it turns him into a feral beast, with no recognition of anything but blood.”

“How do you know that it was bloodlust? Maybe He attacked you because he just found out what you are and-“

“Because I was there when he caught it. I was there when he fought it.”, every word was pressed out with anger and frustration about Vlad’s stubbornness. About his way of denying anything he didn’t want to see or hear. “He always hoped that maybe it would go away. And he trusted me to step in if it didn’t. Because he knew who I was from the very beginning, or rather, who I was supposed to be.”

“That’s what vampires get for trusting a hunter.” Voice cold, face empty.

His expression remained calm and neutral, there was not one muscle that gave a sign of consideration, no empathy left for her words and it made her fume. Pheebe had tears brimming on her lashes, so short of falling to his ignorance. But her anger was without cause. Vlad could not have known, there was nothing he knew about her but her name and the fact, that she did not like him.

“I wasn’t a hunter back then. I was just…” she searched for a suitable word, an attempt to justify the unjustifiable, “an employee who wanted to help maintain peace.” But then her emotions dropped as pictures flashed in her memory, vivid as if she was at that place once again. Laughs, smiles, congratulations. Hands ruffling through her hair and telling her that it was time she grew up to the expectations.  So much positivity over a lost life. “You cannot imagine how proud my family was when they found us, when they saw what I have done. I don’t even know why I had that dagger with me in the first place. I swore to never touch these damned murder instruments!”

They were both breathing hard with keeping this discussion on a verbal level. The need to shake the pale boy was stagnant in Pheebes chest. Meanwhile Vlad has stood up to put his book back into the shelf, as it was apparent he would not be reading in peace with the hysterical girl in the library. Eyeing her from bottom to top his voice turned almost soothingly intrigued: “A Vampire willingly associated with someone who was connected to the circle?”

The facepalm was only mental. Of cause Vladimir would not know how the circle worked. For most of the vampire population it would remain a secret for all of their drawn-out lifetime. Meanwhile, for others, well…

“There were many vampires who worked with or for us, some voluntarily, some not.“ To sum up the whole picture Pheebe went for both extremes: “some came to council meetings, others were chained up and starving in the basement… With all those doors that my parents opened for me, to proudly present my new future, with that blood on my hands I could no longer play friends with your kind. I started my training so I can bring hope to those who don’t deem themselves worthy of it. I have saved almost fourty vampires, and it was never necessary to shed even a drop of blood for them to cooperate. Maybe they felt that I was a little like them, damned from the depth of my blood. A curse that already shows on my hands.”

Once it was pronounced the black eyes of the vampire scanned her arms to hind her hands unexpectedly bare. There were soft lines that faded on their way towards her elbow, as if drawn up with coal, fingerpainted with ashes of burned purity and hopes.

“Is that why you wear gloves?”

Pheebe nodded. “They are so I can touch my weapons. The vampire blood in my system keeps rejecting contact with the cursed materials. But it is also what keeps me immune to hypnosis and manipulation.” This was what made this discussion so hard for Vlad. She had seen the way he talked to the humen at Nikita’s party, and felt that he instantly surrounds them with his commanding aura to get his points across more easily. But talking to her was like talking to  the other house members. Futile, if she was as closed off to his point of view, as he was to her.

“Where did you get blood from our kind?” There was a little bit of disgust in his expression. But who would blame him, for not finding the aspect of being drained of your life essence, so someone else had it easier, appealing. He had never lived on that side of the food chain after all.

Suddenly she felt like a walking tome of hunter knowledge to Vladimir’s eyes. Maybe it was the way he looked at her, with morbid interest. Just how much was he allowed to know? Or rather how long would he survive to pass that knowledge on?: “It was an integral part of my training to regularly get vampire blood and venom injected, so it does not cause  turning if I die in battle or cause hallucinations when I am bitten.”

His eyebrow rose. “The effects of vampire blood in the human system are dangerous. You never know what it might cause”

Something rang in her memory as he said that sentence. She must have heard it somewhere. Or read it in a book. There were not many objectively useful tomes about vampire blood, the only ones are lost, stolen from the hunter association’s library, written during experiments and updated regularly. The last ones who were working on the manuscript were Monsieur and Madame Martine-Blanc, or so it was told.

“You know…There were two hunters who are kind of a legend in the circles, scientist, who were obsessed by the idea that the cure to any disease could lie in the blood of the elder vampires. My instructor, Doctor Ginaldi told me about them. One night they just disappeared, and took half of the inventory with them. After searching for their whereabouts for 3 month, they gave up.” And with a tiny laugh that was only encouraged by the uneasiness on the blond vampire face, she added:” And now, twenty years later, I read their names on a doorbell in the middle of fucking nowhere. Crazy, isn’t it?”

[matchacreamlatte]

Next Bnha Arc

It’s obvious that the next arc of BNHA is going to be another internship arc. This time it will probably focus on Bakugou, Todoroki  Midoriya and possibly Tokoyami. Here’s my theory/rant about who I believe will be signifigant charcters next arc.

U.A. students:

 Midoriya Izuku: I’m not sure who he is going to internship yet. Kamui woods seem like a good contender to help with black whip. However I think Midoriya will also focus on all for one first. Maybe he will internship with another student(maybe one below?) Although, no matter who he internships with, he will find the main trouble of this because he’s mc.

Rest of Students, Pro Hero’s , villians and TL;DR under the cut. 

Todoroki Shoto: Todoroki will most likely continue intern under his father. He wants to improve his fire side, which Endeavor will be happy to help with. There is a possibility of more Tokoyami and Todoroki interactions due to Hawks and Endeavors teaming up. 

Bakugo Katsuki: Bunny Lady!!!! Bakugou needs to learn how to calm down his attitude towards the others and the media. Miruko is perfect for this. She has a similar attitude and personality to Bakugo but still is likable. Rather than being seen as an asshole( Like Bakugo) she seems tough and cool. I think she’ll teach Bakugou that he doesn’t have to be the perfect media hero with best attitude but still needs to act civilized to be a hero that the citizens can count on and like. 

Tokoyami Fumikage: Icarus..... I mean Hawks. He might be pulled into a LOV/PLF(Paranormal League Front) scenario due to Hawks’ connection to the league. It will be cool to see him fight a villain while dark shadow isn’t uncontrollable. 

Others: Other internships might be mentioned but not that important.( as always.....) While it would be nice to  someone else in a spotlight, the characters above internships allow them to have something to do with the league. 2-A ?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pro heroes:

Endeavor: Will see him and Shoto working together. I don’t think his hero #1 status will last for long.. The hero society is bound to fall and the UA students will bring it back by proving themselves as capable heroes(The Fall isn’t going to happen this arc but the foundation/beginning of the fall will start). I think possibly his past with his family will come out and cause distrust among the citizens and have them question “ Who are we letting to become Top heroes?’. Maybe Touya will have something to do in this.... Will connect with Hawks to track down the LOV/PLF while they have the advantage of surprise because they don’t have the advantage of power anymore. 

Hawks: Hawks’ story is going to be concluded somehow.....maybe death by flying too close to the sun or he actually succeeds(X Doubt). Hey, maybe even someone( a villain or the media) will put his LOV/PLF connection out into the world but portray it in a way that looks like he actually working for the villains. While the pro heroes/Hawks can make a statement that he is a double agent and isn’t evil, many will not believe in them and push it off as damage control. 

Miruko: She going to have a major battle(hopefully with Bakugo at her side). Will probably help with LOV/PLF investigation.

All might: ahhhh..... not the best future... he is going to die eventually, maybe not this arc but soon. Will continue to see him research about his predecessors and write notes for Midoriya. 

Other: Others might be mentioned for the class -1a internships. Most likely Kamui Woods. Edge shot maybe. Also might see what happened to Best Jeanist. Aizawa will care/worry for his students

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Villains:

Shigaraki: Hahah ....has power. We won’t see hi, do the task for the doctor this arc but still probably will be talked about by the pro heroes. While he does have great power, due to his position, I think he doesn’t care about liberation but destroying hero society.

Dabi: Touya Todoroki? There is a reason why Dabi’s and Geten’s fight was sidelined. While we did get more evidence for the theory, the main reveal was saved for a better time where it has a better impact in story. The only LOV charcters that we don’t know any background/life story of are: Dabi, Mr. Compress, and Kurogiri.( also Giran but......)So only two active members. I feel like he will be targeted first as he and hawks are the connection between the pro heroes and the LOV/PLF . If he does get targeted(or goes to the pro heroes)he most likely lose. Despit that, no matter what he does like escapes, gets captured, or dies he will do with a boom. I feel like he will reveal what Endeavor did to him, his sibling and his mom. An important factor in bringing down a society(like the hero society) is having citizen support. While the LOV/PLF does have the liberation army’s followers, those followers primarily want free usage of their quirk and have nothing against heroes. If this news about Endeavor does come out (or maybe even about Hawks) people will start to question hero society more that ever and see the point in Stains’ ideal(we know already that a good amount of people thought he made a good point or he was cool but never acted on it). People will not trust their Heroes and have fear that they are corrupted. The people of Japan will start to ask: “How did Endeavor become the number#1 hero did that to his children and wife, even allowing/pushing one to become a villain?”, “Can we trust our other heroes” , “Should we just create a new hero society”, and finally “ Maybe the villains have a point”. With this the hero society will start to crumble and all the LOV/PLF will have to do is hit them hard, which isn’t a problem to do with their arsenal. Overall, I smell the Touya reveal coming soon and that will be the start of the domino effect.

TL;DR: My theory is that Next Arc will focus on Todoroki, Bakugou, Midoryia, and Tokoyami with this respective internships with Endeavor, Miriko, Kamui woods?, and Hawks. This will lead to the LOV/PLF(Paranormal Liberation Front) investigation which they will get caught up in. Possibly, Endeavor past of his abuse towards is family will come out and cause the citizens of Japan to question the hero society. With this.....the LOV/PLF will be able to hit the hero society hard.

This all theory .....not canon.......f you have any theories or input you want to share leave a comment, send me an ask or message me .

#Damn the Dabi part is longg #mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #Dabi #dabi is a todoroki #hawks #league of villians #mha endeavor #bnha todoroki #mha midoriya #bakugou #paranormal liberation front #but it's just a game theory #touya todoroki #all might #miruko #tokoyami #internships #chapter 241 #sparks

[threadsketchier]

Whumptober #17 - “Stay with me”

Some of y’all may remember my old Melodramatic Space Trash™, I’ll Come With You.  I took it down a few years back after getting epically stuck and then growing displeased with it overall.  It’s in Princess Bride “mostly dead” territory, but...only mostly dead.  After I wrote “A Hard Question” I decided that if ICWY were to keep existing I stubbornly wanted to connect them by having AHQ become the prologue of ICWY, and just bridge everything with my Zahn 2.0 series.  But I digress.

For those of you thinking WTF is this story, ICWY is a “I LOL’ed & then I srs’ed” take on “Shattered Ties” by Jedi_Lover.  AKA, Mara suffers irreversible amnesia of the events of Vison of the Future and is stuck with a dubious Force bond that’s not all rainbows and sunshine to deal with.  Because, taken seriously, this plot is arguably a disservice to Mara in saddling her with more mental issues for sake of Luke’s manpain, I wanted to take more consideration on the consequences for her in any future revision.  BUT I DIGRESS.  This is the opening of Chapter 1, which has only had minor tweaks from its original version to make it fit with the new prologue.  The first several paragraphs consisted of direct quotes from VotF in order to dovetail the story from there, so there’s a bit of that snipped here.  Note the difference in Luke’s catchphrase for attempting to wake Mara carried over from AHQ.

He was standing in a pool just off the edge of the last of the underground rivers he and Mara had passed during their trip through the caverns.  Five meters to his left, the torrent that had brought them here had vanished, leaving only the river rippling its sedate way along.

And two meters to his right, bobbing gently in the pool as she floated beside the craggy rock, was Mara.  Her eyes closed, her arms and legs limp.  As if in death.  The precise image he'd seen of her in that Jedi vision on Tierfon.

And then he was at her side, raising her head out of the water, gazing at her face in sudden fear.  If the trance hadn't kept her alive – if she'd struck something hard enough to kill her after he'd lost his grip on her –

Behind him, R2 whistled impatiently.  “Right,” Luke agreed, cutting off his sudden panic.  All he had to do to bring her out of it was speak the key phrase she'd chosen, the phrase she'd wondered aloud if he could handle.  Almost as if she was afraid he couldn't…

He took a deep breath.  “Come with me.”

There was no response.

A sickening dread began to clench his gut.  Forcing calm into his voice, he repeated himself, a tremor still escaping him as he enunciated each word more clearly.  “Come with me, Mara.”  An almost manic hope that perhaps this was just a fiendish little trick of hers skittered across the back of his mind.  Perhaps she had heard him all along and was only pretending, trying to scare the wits out of him for old times' sake.  But he knew it wasn't true even as the thought crossed; however brief it was, the disorientation upon emergence from a trance wouldn't have allowed her to pull it off.

Only the quiet rush of the river answered him.  Mara lay still and flaccid, eyes closed and mouth slack, a blue tinge to her lips.

“No.”  The denial left him in a moan.  “Mara, no. Please.”  Echoing slightly off the cavern walls, R2's anxious fluting joined his exclamations and went ignored.  Despair made his grasp on the Force as slippery as the sodden rock around him, and he crushed it down until it coalesced into a near-physical pain deep within his chest.  He needed his senses now more than ever, to find if–

Instantly Luke was hefting her up and struggling his way out of the pool toward the nearest surface where he could lay her flat.  She was not gone.  Not yet.  But she was near the edge and fading fast, her heart locked in either v-fib or a faint spasm of pulseless electrical activity.  He didn't know if her lungs were waterlogged, but it was irrelevant at the moment. How many minutes had she already been in this state?

As it had been with the sentinel droids, his entire focus was narrowed to this one desperate task: to revive her, somehow.  Fear, fury, and even expectations had to be cast aside as he began vigorous compressions.  He could not fight the will of the Force, but he would fight as long as he still had her, even if only by a thread.

“Artoo!” he shouted, splitting his concentration just long enough to seize him in a mental grip and lift him over the water and terrain.  “Get your arc welder out. I'm gonna need a charge.”  More elaborate ideas were quickly dismissed in favor of the simplest solution. With the extra power packs, R2 likely still carried enough energy to spare at least one, possibly two, jolts strong enough to attempt defibrillation, although the effort would drain it significantly.  A monophasic electrical impulse was not ideal, requiring more power and risking serious burns, but there was no other choice.  The fact that they were all drenched just made it that much more dangerous.  There were so many factors that he could not control without having a medpac's auto-defib for diagnostic measurements and adjustments.

All he could do was listen for the songbirds, to tell him how much and when.

“You ready?”  At R2's affirmative chirp and the whir of his arc welder extending, Luke paused compressions for only a moment to gather a fistful of the charred fabric around Mara's shoulder and tear it violently to expose enough bare skin for the tip of the appendage to rest near her heart.  The incurable gallantry within him, in a bittersweet way, was relieved that there was no need to fully expose her.  Despite her usual crassness and pragmatism, this was not the way he would have ever wanted to see her, the last of her dignity literally ripped away.

“You need to press down hard, Artoo.  Now juice it up, and I'll tell you when to shoot, okay?”

Beneath his hands he felt something give way with a soft pop, and strangled down sharp regret at having either broken cartilage or bone.  It was almost inevitable with crude manual resuscitation.

Be careful.

Always, Farmboy.

But he hadn’t been careful enough.  He’d come here to protect her, hoping to save her.  But the harder he tried to prevent his visions, the more inevitable they seemed.

R2 blurted readiness, and Luke plunged into the Force, pleading for that precious guidance. Electrons gathered until…

“Now!” He pushed himself backwards, completely away from Mara and any residual water around her, and the astromech shot current straight into her.  He watched her body twitch from the shock.  Wheeping urgent queries, R2 leaned back to lift the welder off of her.  Luke reached for her neck, but the tension had not cleared from his mind; it hadn't worked. To his horror, he noticed her arms starting to curl up and her fingers gnarling in decorticate posturing, an ominous sign of brain damage.

Gritting his teeth, he resumed compressions.  “Again, Artoo.  We have to try again.  Same thing.”  The droid's reply was blatantly nervous; it certainly wasn't accustomed to delivering what, in any other situation, would be harmful toward a non-hostile organic being. Astromechs weren't medical droids, no matter how heavily modified.

If it failed a second time, other options were far less viable.  His bionic hand wouldn't contain enough power for that kind of discharge, and releasing energy from the few other electronic items they had left would either be inadequate or potentially deadly.  Even after years of study, he knew he did not quite have the same deep, fine biological control that an instinctive healer such as Cilghal possessed.  His own body was a living battery, but he had never attempted a Force technique for making any use of it that wouldn't involve Sith lightning, not to mention that he stood the chance of killing himself with such a wild endeavor.  After everything they'd been through and divulged to one another, Mara would sooner prefer to die than see him call upon the darkness as a solution to save her.

He would have to let her go.

You've defeated my clone, you've slain a mad Dark Jedi, you've braved vornskrs, you've prevented Thrawn's rebirth, you've spat in the face of death a dozen, a hundred times. Fight back, Mara. Fight back for us.

Again R2's welder came down on Mara's chest.  “Go!” he cried, and held his breath.

She convulsed a little harder than before.  This time R2 rolled backwards, knowing a third try was beyond its capacity.  Electrons dispersed haphazardly, depolarizing wayward cells, and for a split second her heart and his world were still.

Then he felt nerves fire in return, and it might as well have been the ignition of a new star.

Springing forward, Luke sealed his lips against hers and sighed out his pent-up conviction into her lungs, half the battle won.  That's it, Mara. Come on. You're almost there.  He breathed for her until he felt her diaphragm hitch, and sour water suddenly shot into his own mouth before he could detach; he rolled her onto her side as she gagged and coughed weakly.  Her pulse was rapid and thready at first, but gaining strength.  Hot pressure built up behind his eyes and a sob of relief escaped him.

“You did it, Artoo.”  There had been many times, Luke mused, when his faithful droid had been worth double its weight in platinum, and this was one more of them.  No, truly, R2 had no price.

Mara was breathing but not regaining consciousness; her eyes remained half-lidded and rolled back in their sockets.  Luke refocused his senses on her to try to discern any injuries she might have suffered from their brutal journey through the lake's drainage that had caused the hibernation trance to fail.  He shuddered to consider that it was his fault, that he had not done a thorough job in slowing down her functions and she had nearly drowned from his own hasty negligence.  He'd been so certain that it was effective when she'd gone to sleep in his arms.

Across her head, however, he picked up a glaring area of inflammation, and it soon became clear that she had indeed collided with something on the way.  It didn't lessen the pangs of guilt.  If only he'd managed to hang onto her the entire way…

He would have needed a greater level of consciousness, enough that he would have run out of oxygen sooner and drowned himself.  Or even slammed into the same spot she had, and neither of them would have survived.  He could perfectly picture her chiding him once more about uncontrollable factors.

“Mara,” Luke whispered, still afraid but now suffused with hope, “we're getting out of here. Hang on.”  The words were more for his own encouragement, for he knew she couldn't hear him.  He bent and brushed his lips against hers before carefully lifting her again, and set his concentration on healing her as he began to follow the river's path out of the caverns.

#i lived bitch #i mean the fic not just mara lol #whumptober2019 #no.17 #my fics #star wars #luke skywalker #mara jade #r2d2 #ICWY #zahn 2.0

[miguel-manbemel]

Aspects & Fanfics Ep. 20: The Pact - Part 2

Here comes part 2 of the story I released some days ago as part of this fanfic blog inspired on Sanders Sides by Thomas Sanders, Joan S. and the Foster Dawg Team. Fun fact, the main premise of the story is that Thomas gets terribly sick with high fever... and it was premonitory because I wrote the basic draft of the story last week and I, myself, got really sick this week with high fever. When I published part 1, I was still recovering. I’m totally fine now, but how did this venture into the future happen? Maybe, subconsciously, I was seeing it coming and it flew into the story? I don’t know.

Gotta say that letting the writing rest unpublished for these past three days has allowed me to do so many tweaks and improvements to the story. Maybe I should make this the norm and wait five days after I finish any writing to improve it and make it better. There were so many parts I wasn’t entirely satisfied with that have turned so much better thanks to these improvements. Who would have known? For instance, one thing I have decided here is to start giving proper names to the Sides’ counterparts in the shorts, specifically the Prince Guy which as this point has become a regular character in the fic. I decided to give them names that sound similar to the Sanders Sides but not exactly the same. If you want to see what name I gave him, just keep reading the episode. That’s one of the improvements I was talking about, among many others. Anyway, now I leave you with this part of the story. As usual, if you want to check previous entries, including part 1, you can find them right here. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing it. Until next time.

SYNOPSIS: The Dark Master has left the Mind Palace, and as a result Thomas is seriously ill. If the Sides, with the assistance of Joan and Talyn, don’t find a way to make him return to the Mind Palace before it’s too late, Thomas will die.

WARNINGS: Prinxiety. Thomas is featured with an illness that has some intense moments of angst, including moments where Thomas is on the verge of dying. Remus appears, but due to the nature of the episode he will be forced to ally with the other Sides, so he’ll be a little less nasty than usual. Scenes of violence and animal cruelty are mentioned.

EPISODE INDEX

[flashback of the final moments from the previous episode]

DARK MASTER: Be careful with what you wish for. Your wish was to get rid of me. And now you will. I’m leaving this Mind Palace to live in the real world. Too bad that a host without one of his two Masters… cannot survive.

ROMAN: [distressed] Oh, no! Thomas!

DARK MASTER: By the way, the ingredients and cauldron were just to set me free. I am a Master. Turning Dark into Light is child’s play for me. I could have turned you into a Light Side permanently all the time. So long, guys! I’m gonna enjoy my freedom!

[The Dark Master flies away, carrying the bag with the cauldron with him]

ROMAN: Wait! Come back!

[Thomas suddenly loses balance and has to be grabbed by Logan and Patton]

THOMAS: I’m… I’m feeling so cold…

PATTON: [putting his hand on Thomas’ forefront] My God, you’re burning! You have high fever!

ROMAN: [approaching Thomas] I’m sorry, Thomas. This is my fault.

THOMAS: [weak voice] It’s… okay… But, guys, please… take me home…

[Thomas faints]

ROMAN: [horrified] Thomas? Thomas!? Oh, no, what have I done!? Thomas!!

[intro sequence]

ROMAN: Thomas? Thomas, please!

LOGAN: It’s okay, he’s still breathing.

VIRGIL: Why haven’t we fainted with him?

LOGAN: He hasn’t totally passed out, he’s still mostly conscious, only too weak to open his eyes.

PATTON: We need to take him home, kiddos.

LOGAN: And we need to contact Joan. They and Talyn are the only ones in the real world we can ask for help.

[Ira and the Prince Guy arrive]

PRINCE GUY: How did it go…? [scared after seeing Thomas lying on the ground] What’s happened!?

ROMAN: Roland, I mean… brother, help us! We need to take Thomas home quickly. This has been a disaster as you can see.

PRINCE GUY: Ira, use your sprite form to travel faster, go fetch the royal carriage, quick!

IRA: Aye, aye, my liege!

[Ira turns into a sprite and flies away]

PRINCE GUY: Your emissary told me about the pact and where I could find you. What’s happened now, Roman?

ROMAN: I was tricked! It was a plot orchestrated by the Dark Master, and I fell into it like a fool. And now Thomas is gonna die, and it’s all gonna be my fault!

VIRGIL: Don’t say that, Roman.

ROMAN: But it’s true! I condemned us all for my stupid gullibility!

VIRGIL: We still have something to say in this situation, Roman. This is not over yet. We’ll make the Dark Master pay, somehow.

LOGAN: [invokes a thermometer and puts it on Thomas’ head, then checks the result] He’s got 105ºF, which is 40.5ºC. We need to lower his temperature now. Patton, have you got a handkerchief?

PATTON: No, I left it in my room.

LOGAN: It’s okay. [Logan takes his necktie off] Take this. Immerse it in the pond and put it on Thomas’ forehead. The water in the pond looks clean. I hope it is cold enough.

PATTON: Okay.

[Patton immerses the necktie in the pond and takes it out soaking wet. After squeezing it a little bit, he puts it on Thomas’ head. He starts shivering]

THOMAS: [plaintive groan] …no, please… so cold…

LOGAN: I know it’s cold, Thomas, but this is mandatory. This is for your own good. Hold on. [invokes his old necktie and puts it on] I’m not myself without my necktie, but there’s nothing I wouldn’t sacrifice for Thomas’ well-being.

PATTON: This is the worst situation we have ever been into. If Thomas dies… we will all die with him.

LOGAN: I know… But he’s not dead yet, Patton. Let’s not lose hope so soon.

[Ira arrives with the carriage]

IRA: I’m here, guys! Quickly, put Thomas in!

[Thomas is held up by Patton, Logan and Deceit and placed inside the carriage. They all get in and the carriage goes away. In a matter of minutes, it reaches the door to Sandersia. Then they get Thomas into Roman’s room]

IRA: Okay, we can’t get beyond this point. Take care of Thomas, okay?

ROMAN: We’ll do. Here.

[Roman invokes a crystal ball and gives it to the Prince Guy]

ROMAN: This crystal orb is connected to me and will show an image of the room where I am every moment. With this, you’ll be able to see how everything’s going in the outside world, so that you can stay informed.

PRINCE GUY: Thank you, Roman. Now go, and take care of Thomas.

ROMAN: I’ll do my best, but…

[tears fall down Roman’s eyes. The Prince Guy hugs Roman]

PRINCE GUY: Hey, hey, come on. You can’t afford falling apart right now. Thomas needs you. We all need you. Be strong for me. Will ya?

ROMAN: [cleaning his eyes] I will… I’m sorry.

PRINCE GUY: It’s okay. Now go and be great. You can do this. I love you.

ROMAN: I love you too. Bye, Roland.

[Roman closes the door and approaches Thomas]

PATTON: Roland? Your brother’s name is Roland?

ROMAN: Yes, that’s my brother’s name. You didn’t think his name was “Prince Guy” did you?

PATTON: Yeah, but you never used his name before today, so, like, I kinda assumed he was nameless at this point, like the early Disney princes…

ROMAN: Of course not, Patton. It’s just that he doesn’t want his name to be featured in the shorts, that’s why we never use it. But earlier it just slipped out and… [looking at Thomas] okay, that doesn’t matter now. We have more important business to attend to. [leaning down towards Thomas, speaking with a soft and sweet voice] Thomas… open your eyes, please. Can you do that for me?

THOMAS: [very weak voice, opening his eyes] I’m… so cold…

ROMAN: I know. It’s the fever. But you must make an effort. We can’t get you out to the real world, you must get out yourself.

THOMAS: I… I can’t.

ROMAN: Yes, you can. You are strong and brave. I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t. Come on. You can do it. Just this once, and then we’ll let you rest, okay?

THOMAS: I’ll try…

[Thomas closes his eyes. Then he starts sinking down]

ROMAN: Well done, Thomas, you’re doing it.

[Thomas disappears. Then the Sides sink down and they all appear in the living room. Roman and Patton place Thomas on the couch, Patton sits down next to Thomas]

ROMAN: Well done, buddy… I’m so proud of you. Now rest. You’ve earned it.

THOMAS: [a tear falls down his cheek, his face is blushing because of the fever] Don’t go away from me… Don’t leave me alone… I’m scared.

PATTON: [tearing up, holding Thomas’ hand and kissing it] I’m here, Thomas and I will never leave you. I’ll be with you all the time, kiddo.

[Logan picks up Thomas’ phone and calls someone]

LOGAN: Hello? Is it you, Joan? No, I’m not Thomas, I’m Logan. Listen, this is an emergency. You and Talyn must come to Thomas’ home quickly. Thomas is in mortal danger right now and needs help… I can’t give you more details by phone, time is short. Yes, we’ll be here. Hurry up, please.

[Logan hangs up]

ROMAN: Do you think they will be able to do something, anyway?

LOGAN: I don’t know, but what else can we do? They are our only allies in the real world. We need them.

[Deceit brings a basin full of water with a couple of little towels floating on it]

DECEIT: Here, I filled this with cold water.

LOGAN: Good idea, Deceit. Keep putting cold compresses on his forehead, and replace them when they get warm. We must fight that fever. Virgil, go put an effervescent tablet of ibuprofen in a glass of water and make Thomas drink it. Perhaps that will be of help too.

VIRGIL: Okay.

[suddenly, Remus storms in the living room]

REMUS: Where is it!? What did you do with it!?

ROMAN: Remus, it’s you. What are you doing here?

REMUS: Enough with the “what are you doing here”! I know you’ve been in my room! Where did you put my black cauldron!?

ROMAN: The Dark Master has it.

REMUS: Oh, no! You fool! How could you let the Dark Master put his hands on my cauldron!? Don’t you see what you’ve done!?

ROMAN: Yes, I do. Look at Thomas.

REMUS: Yes, that’s my point and that’s what I feared!

ROMAN: Now you care about Thomas? I thought you hated him.

REMUS: Don’t jump to conclusions! It’s not what you think, you idiot! I don’t care about Mr. Sunny-boy anymore than I care about any of you, and I don’t mind putting Thomas into all kinds of mental misfortunes! But I would never physically harm him, cause if he dies, we all die! And I don’t know about you, but I am too young to die! I raised that barrier to protect the cauldron from falling into the Dark Master’s hands, and you ruined it! I hope you’re proud of yourself!

[Roman shows a face of remorse]

VIRGIL: [angry] Hey, Mortimer Re-Mouse! Cut him some slack, will ya? If you care so much about your own safety, you could try to be constructive for once in your life!

THOMAS: [weak voice] Guys… don’t fight, please…

PATTON: How are you doing, Thomas?

THOMAS: I’m still feeling so cold…

LOGAN: Let me see…

[Logan puts the thermometer on Thomas’ forehead, then checks the temperature]

LOGAN: 103ºF, or 39.4ºC… It’s a little better, but it’s still high fever. But I guess the ibuprofen is doing some work after all…

THOMAS: I’m sorry I cannot be of use to you now, guys…

PATTON: [sweetly petting his hair, all wet because of the compresses, speaking with the sweetest, relaxing voice] Relax, kiddo. The only way you can be of use for us now is by getting some rest.

[there’s a knock on the door]

LOGAN: That must be Joan. Virgil, go open the door.

VIRGIL: Okay.

[Virgil goes to open the door. Joan and Talyn come in]

JOAN: Where is Thomas? What is going on?

VIRGIL: He’s on the couch.

[Joan and Talyn go to the couch]

JOAN: Oh, my goodness, Thomas! You look so bad!

THOMAS: [weak ironic smile] Hello, Joan… thank you for your compliments…

JOAN: What’s wrong with you?

LOGAN: He’s got a high fever. We have managed to keep it under control, sort of, but he’s far from recovery, I’m afraid.

TALYN: We need to take him to a hospital.

LOGAN: I’m afraid that wouldn’t be helpful. His illness is not of organic origin.

JOAN: What’s happened?

LOGAN: The Dark Master has set himself free. He’s left Thomas’ Mind Palace to wander around in the real world, and Thomas cannot survive without him. If we don’t find a way of making the Dark Master return to the Mind Palace, Thomas will die.

JOAN: What? But how could this happen?

ROMAN: [giving Joan the magic scroll] Maybe this will explain it to you.

[Joan reads the contract]

JOAN: I don’t fully understand. So, you made a deal with the Dark Master to become a Light Side again? And for that you gave him these shirts and that black cauldron? Why would you do that?

ROMAN: I told them already, he tricked me! I didn’t know he was the Dark Master! I would have never participated in this if I had known! Do you honesty think that I would have sold Thomas, my friends and the Side that I love to make my wish come true? You all are more important to me than me being Dark or Light! You should know that!

VIRGIL: I know. We know, Roman.

JOAN: Yes, I know… I’m sorry if I made you feel otherwise Roman. I also forgot that you don’t speak Tagalog, the Filipino language. As you know, my family is of Filipino origin. Even though I only know a few words of Tagalog, one of them is “Madilim”, which means “Dark” in Tagalog, so I quickly identified he was the Dark Master, so the shock made me assume that you would have known too… I’m terribly sorry, Roman.

ROMAN: It’s okay. I wish I would have known the language too, so I wouldn’t have fallen prey of his tricks. I wouldn’t have given him that dang cauldron if I had known the truth.

DECEIT: What was in that cauldron, anyway? How could the Dark Master use it to free himself like that?

REMUS: When Roman left me in the island, I was still a Light Side. As time went on, I realized I was slowly turning into a Dark Side, the more Roman tried to repress me. I tried to counter that change by projecting my dark energy out of me into that cauldron. At first, it worked, as I turned back into a Light Side, but the repression kept happening again, and again, and every time stronger than the previous one.

DECEIT: That must have been angsty.

REMUS: There was a moment when the cauldron was so full of Dark Energy, that I could not fill it anymore, or it would corrupt myself, so I finally gave up and let the transformation happen, until I became a Dark Side. At that moment, my room in the Dark Realm appeared. I came there to check out, and the Dark Master confronted me. He tried to force me to submit to his will with his whip and all. But you know me already. I’m too kinky to be tortured. I was totally unaffected by his physical chastising, I even enjoyed it.

PATTON: Why am I not surprised?

REMUS: So, he eventually gave me up as impossible and just allowed me to stay in my room without messing too much in my life, just checking out what I was up to from time to time, and forbidding other Dark Sides to approach me, as he didn’t want my rebellious attitude to spread out among them. But one day, he noticed my cauldron. He wanted it desperately. As he told me when trying to bribe me into giving it to him, he could use all the concentrated Dark Energy inside to set himself free. If combined with objects belonging to the different Sides, not only he could be free to get out of the Dark Realm. He could also get out of the Mind Palace itself.

LOGAN: Why was the Dark Master so open about his plans? It doesn’t make sense.

REMUS: He probably thought I was so demented and so thirsty of revenge against Roman, Thomas and the Light Sides, that I would give him the cauldron without further question. I may act idiotic, but I’m not stupid! I knew what would happen to Thomas, and by extension to all of us, if he did that. I couldn’t destroy the cauldron, as that would have set free a wave of Dark Energy so strong that it would have destroyed Sandersia, which would have wounded Roman and by extension me. And if I destroyed it in the Dark Realm, I would have only been making it easier to the Dark Master, as he could just absorb the Dark Energy and perform his plan, so I raised the barrier around my room, a barrier only Creativity, that is, Roman or I, could cross and allow others to cross. I figured that a ton of bricks like the ones Roman used in his Dream Factory, which I also was able to create, would be enough to keep the cauldron safe. I didn’t expect that Roman would eventually mess everything up, and not only by getting the cauldron out of the barrier, but also willingly giving it to the enemy! And then it’s me who they call demented!

VIRGIL: As I said, it would be better for all of us if you were constructive, and not destructive as you usually are!

REMUS: I am what I am, emo! And right now, I’m an angry octopus, that’s all!

VIRGIL: Octopus?

[tentacles appear from Remus’ back]

REMUS: Yes, octopus! Oh, did my tentacles scare you? You can thank Roman for them, I wouldn’t have had them if I hadn’t been turned into a Dark Side!

[Remus hides the tentacles]

VIRGIL: [with voice of disgust] I… I’ll just pretend I didn’t see that.

LOGAN: [scared] Guys, Thomas is getting worse!

THOMAS: [loud breathing] I’m finding it hard to breath…

PATTON: [scared] Thomas, please… hold on.

JOAN: Where the f… [bleep] are we going to get some oxygen for him now? We need to call an ambulance, Logan!

THOMAS: No… no… it’s okay… it’s getting over… it was only a moment… I can breath again now…

LOGAN: [angry] Guys, you’re wasting time! Thomas is fading in front of our own eyes and you’re all just behaving like bratty babies as if we had all the time in the world! Instead of arguing or blaming yourselves or others, it would be better if we made a plan of action! He is running out of time!

PATTON: Well, Logan, you’re Thomas’ logical thinking. No one better than you to set a course of action.

LOGAN: All right… first, we need to find the Dark Master. But that’s easier said than done. Gainesville may not be a huge city, but it’s big enough to help someone hide. And he will probably be disguised to go unnoticed.

REMUS: You don’t have to worry about that. Didn’t you have a little green firefly, or something?

LOGAN: You mean Ira?

REMUS: Yeah, Ira or whatever. That b… [bleep] , I mean the Dark Master, not the green b… [bleep], and now I mean Ira, not [pointing at himself] this green b… [bleep] …

PATTON: [annoyed] Cut to the chase, you b… [elongates the B letter] ...b-b-biscuit!

REMUS: [beat] As I was saying, before daddy interrupted me, the Dark Master has used my own energy to set himself free, which means your sprite friend could easily trace him, as long as he’s still holding my black cauldron. If he isn’t… well, he’d still be traceable for a couple of hours more, while remnants of my energy are still on his body, then he’ll be gone for good.

LOGAN: I doubt he would want to get rid of that cauldron. He would have simply left it in the forest if he hadn’t found it useful or didn’t think it was dangerous for him to leave it behind. He’s still carrying the cauldron, I’m sure.

ROMAN: Okay, Ira, did you hear that? I know you’re watching from the crystal orb. Come here now, we need your ability again.

[Honesty appears]

PATTON: Oh, Honesty, hi. Long time no see. It’s been a while since you last showed up. Are you okay?

HONESTY: Why are you asking that? I’m fine. Besides, that’s not important now. The important thing here is to make sure Thomas is okay right now.

PATTON: You’re right, but us being worried about Thomas doesn’t mean we cannot be worried about you at the same time. Is anything wrong with you lately? Why don’t you want to show up?

HONESTY: [concerned] Well, I…

PATTON: You don’t intend to fade away for another eight years like the last time, do you?

[Honesty doesn’t have time to answer, as Ira’s sprite appears]

PATTON: We’ll talk about that later, but you bet we’ll have that conversation, mister.

DECEIT: If we’re still alive by then… Sorry, did I say that aloud? I totally didn’t mean it…

REMUS: [a little scared, to Ira] Stay away from me, Stinkerbell!

[Ira makes a loud jingle bell sound that reminds of a raspberry noise]

VIRGIL: You can see him? Then that means you’re not a Dark Side. Not completely at least.

REMUS: Of course I can see him, and want him away from me! His bite still hurts on my neck and it’s the only non pleasant pain I have ever felt!

ROMAN: Okay, easy, Captain Poop. Ira, can you do what Remus said? Can you detect the Dark Master’s trace? We need to find him…

[Ira starts flying up and down, as if nodding to say yes]

LOGAN: However, we mustn’t just go running blindly on the hunt of the Dark Master. We need to think beforehand what to do when we find him. Otherwise, he could harm us.

ROMAN: No, he couldn’t.

JOAN: Why not?

ROMAN: The pact. It says that he can’t actively hurt us, or else everything would turn to be as it was before. That could be a solution… with good things and bad things. The good thing is that that would send the Dark Master back to the Mind Palace, saving Thomas’ life. The bad thing…

VIRGIL: What?

ROMAN: …the bad thing is that I would turn back into a Dark Side again.

REMUS: What? You were a Dark Side?

ROMAN: Yes, and it’s all your fault, by the way. Something happened when we fused that corrupted me into a Dark Side when we split up.

REMUS: You’re saying it as if I was the only one to blame. I didn’t put a gun on your head, did I? You wanted to fuse with me as much as I did, so you’re as guilty as I am. Besides, I love that that’s happened to you. Now you will know how it feels, cause that’s what you did to me when you tried to repress me, and, unlike me, you did it on purpose! I guess karma is real after all.

ROMAN: [sighs] I guess you’re right, cause it really looks like a karmic punishment. That doesn’t matter, anyway. If I have to turn into a Dark Side, then so be it. I prefer being a Dark Side rather than getting Thomas killed. Anyway, this is all just speculation. He would never attack us knowing what’s on risk for him, and I would never put any of us in danger of getting harmed by him, so…

REMUS: You know what? I’m tired of waiting!

ROMAN: What?

REMUS: You guys are just standing here talking about life and doing nothing! I’m not a man of talking, I’m a man of action! And I’m gonna destroy the Dark Master with my own hands! [invoking it] And this Morningstar!

LOGAN: That’s not a wise idea. We should form a plan together to…

REMUS: [yelling] Don’t tell what to do, you’re not my boss! I do what I want whenever it pleases me, and now what pleases me is getting out of here, okay? Bye!

[Remus gets out of the apartment]

ROMAN: Wait! Urgh! Why does he have to be so dramatic all the time? I can’t believe it’s me who’s said that… He’s right in one thing, though. We don’t have time to form a plan of action. We must get moving right now.

LOGAN: [sighs, looking at Thomas] I think you’re right…

ROMAN: Okay, guys, we must divide forces. Joan, Talyn, Logan and Patton, you will stay with Thomas. Take care of him and if he gets worse, take him to a hospital if it’s necessary. It may not do any effect, but at least he’d be under control.

LOGAN: Okay.

ROMAN: [invokes another crystal ball and gives it to Joan] Here. This is another crystal orb like the one I gave my brother, so that they could check out what was going on. You will see all that is happening to us through it, okay?

JOAN: Okay.

ROMAN: Virgil, Deceit and I, and Honesty too, of course. We’ll follow Ira and face the Dark Master when we find him. We must be careful, we don’t know what he may be up to. He can’t harm us purposely, but he may try to harm innocent people instead or use them as hostages. We mustn’t let him do that, okay?

VIRGIL: Got it.

JOAN: Won’t it call people’s attention to see four clones of Thomas Sanders wandering around Gainesville?

ROMAN: Don’t worry, Joan. We’ll be invisible when we are moving around Gainesville, and if we have to be visible, we can assume any shape to go unnoticed.

JOAN: Okay.

THOMAS: Be careful, guys…

ROMAN: We will be, Thomas. Okay, guys. Let’s go. Thomas, we’re borrowing your car, okay?

[Honesty disappears into Deceit, then Roman, Virgil and Deceit get out of the apartment. The sound of a car is heard outside going away]

THOMAS: [to Logan, with a weak voice] It’s the first time they are gonna get away from me in the real world… Are you sure they can do it?

LOGAN: Don’t worry. We can move around Gainesville at will. In fact, and sorry we’ve hidden this from you, this is not the first time at all. We have already done this once or twice, always staying invisible of course or shape-shifting into ordinary people. I have visited the library several times thanks to that. How do you think I get the knowledge of things you don’t even know about sometimes?

PATTON: Yeah, and I got some good cooking recipes in the library too. If I had waited for you to start learning how to cook, I would still be doing Playdoh cookies, you know?

THOMAS: And that… doesn’t affect me in any way? I mean, Virgil just clocked out and I became a whole mess. Wouldn’t it be worse if you literally wandered miles away from my body?

LOGAN: Well, it does affect you. Have you ever felt like distracted, with your head figuratively in the clouds? It was probably because one of us was hanging around out there. But, as long as we don’t leave Gainesville, or the city or town you’re staying at the moment, we’re still in contact with you, even if we’re far away, that’s why you don’t become a complete mess like when Virgil switched himself off.

THOMAS: I’d be a little mad if I wasn’t feeling so bad… You guys have to bring me up to date about these secret escapades of yours… that is, if I get out of this one…

TALYN: Of course you’ll get out of this one, Thomas. Don’t lose hope.

THOMAS: I don’t… I trust my Sides and I know if they set their mind on saving my life, I couldn’t be in better hands…

[there’s a knock at the door]

JOAN: What? Who can it be? Here, Talyn, hide the crystal orb. You, Logan, Patton, go invisible.

LOGAN: Done.

PATTON: Ready.

JOAN: I can still see you.

LOGAN: Don’t worry, Joan. We can be seen only by the people we want to be seen, and that’s Talyn and you exclusively.

JOAN: Okay, I’ll go to the door.

[Joan goes to open the door]

JOAN: Oh, Dahlia, Dominic, it’s you.

DAHLIA: Joan? What are you doing here? We’re coming to talk to Thomas.

DOMINIC: Yeah, he has to give us an explanation!

JOAN: An explanation? About what?

DAHLIA: He has been around Gainesville, doing the most disgusting things. I didn’t want to believe it at first, but I saw it with my own eyes an hour ago. He kicked a little dog on the back and left it in pain. And he left laughing just like that.

DOMINIC: We took it to the vet. Thank God the poor boy is not in danger. We called Thomas, but he’s not answering the phone. We assumed we’d find him here at this time of the evening.

LOGAN: They must have called while we were still on Sandersia. The outer world signal can’t reach there, that’s why I had to wait till we got out to call Joan.

JOAN: Guys, I think you are completely wrong, Thomas could have never done something like that.

DAHLIA: Yeah, I thought that too, but we saw it with our own eyes, Joan. Now, are you going to let us in or not?

JOAN: I mean that he could have never done that, because he has been here all the time. He’s sick. Talyn and I have been nursing him all the evening.

DAHLIA: What? I can’t believe that!

JOAN: See it for yourselves. He’s now on the couch with a high fever. Come and see.

[Dahlia and Dominic enter the apartment. When they see Thomas on the couch they sport a confused face]

DAHLIA: Thomas?

THOMAS: [weak voice] Hello… Dahlia.

DOMINIC: You look awful…

THOMAS: Thanks for noticing, Dominic…

JOAN: As you can see, he couldn’t have left the house in his condition. He can barely move.

DAHLIA: No… I guess not… and besides you’re right, it was such an out-of-character thing to do from Thomas… He adores dogs…

DOMINIC: But if it wasn’t you… who was that person? He looked just like you. Dahlia and I saw his face clearly, and it was exactly your face, only with a malevolent expression that chilled the blood.

TALYN: Are you sure he looked like Thomas? Perhaps it was just someone who reminded you of him.

DAHLIA: No, Talyn, I’m telling you. It’s not just that he was similar to him, or I could have had any doubt he was someone else. I’m telling you he was a clone of Thomas, like a twin brother or something. Heck, he was even wearing the same shirt you’re wearing right now! How is that possible?

DOMINIC: Are… are you guys hiding something from us? Cause I’m not buying that you don’t know who that doppelganger is.

LOGAN: Thomas… don’t worry, they can’t hear me yet. But I think the time has come to tell them the truth about us.

THOMAS: Are you sure, Logan?

DAHLIA: What? Logan? Who is Logan?

DOMINIC: Who are you talking to now? Don’t tell me you’re gonna start talking to the thin air like the other time!

TALYN: [nervous] I… I think it may be the fever, he is probably delirious…

LOGAN: Don’t worry, Talyn. I think we can trust Dahlia and Dominic. They’re your friends after all. And they have already seen too much. They’re already suspecting. Something tells me they’re not gonna stop until they find out the truth one way or another, and I think they deserve to know the truth from us, don’t you think?

THOMAS: Yes, I think you’re right, they deserve it…

DAHLIA: Deserve what?

THOMAS: Okay, Dahlia, Dominic… I’m going to level up with you, but you must promise that you will never ever tell this to anybody, promised?

DAHLIA: Tell what?

THOMAS: Promised?

DAHLIA: Okay, I promise.

DOMINIC: Me too.

THOMAS: Okay, don’t be afraid now.

DAHLIA: That’s a phrase that never works when someone says it, Thomas.

THOMAS: Logan, you can show up.

LOGAN: Good evening, Dahlia. Salutations Dominic.

[Dahlia gasps and has to sit down on the other couch due to the impression. Dominic is too stunned to react]

DAHLIA: What? What is going on? Who are you?

LOGAN: My name is Logan. And I am Thomas’ logical Side.

JOAN: Do you remember Thomas’ stories about his Sanders Sides? The videos he makes in his YouTube channel?

DAHLIA: Yes, I do. I also remember that sometimes he started talking to himself in his living room as if he was sustaining long conversations with someone. But I thought he was only rehearsing his acting abilities for those videos.

DOMINIC: As you know, Joan, I saw Thomas once yelling outside as if he was talking to someone. So… the Sanders Sides from his stories… are real? And you knew this all this time, Joan?

JOAN: It’s okay, guys. Talyn and I were as surprised as you are when we first found out. You wouldn’t believe everything we’ve seen these last few months. And Dominic, if it serves as something, when you told me that, I still didn’t know anything about the Sides. But it was precisely that what prompted me to find out the truth. It’s a long story, though.

DAHLIA: So that guy we saw earlier… it was another of your Sides? Your nasty Side or something?

LOGAN: Not exactly, although it is indeed a close definition. The one you saw calls himself the Dark Master. It is a concentration of Thomas’ evil self, the evil part that all human beings have inside themselves to one extent or another. Thomas had him repressed in his subconscious, but he set himself free and now is wreaking havoc around Gainesville.

PATTON: That’s right.

DAHLIA: [startled] Oh! I didn’t see you coming.

PATTON: Sorry, kiddos. I’m Patton, I’m Thomas’ Morality.

DOMINIC: By the way… you also look almost exactly like the guys in Thomas’ shorts…

PATTON: Yes, kiddo. Thomas got inspired on us to make these shorts.

DAHLIA: You all have the same face… isn’t it weird to you, Thomas?

THOMAS: Oh, it has never been weird to me. They have been with me all of my life since I was a child. I never found them weird at all.

[Thomas takes a deep breath as if he was running out of air]

LOGAN: Thomas, you shouldn’t speak so much. You should save your strength. You’re ill, just in case you forgot.

DAHLIA: What’s the matter with Thomas?

JOAN: Thomas needs the Dark Master to survive. That’s why he’s sick right now. If we don’t find a way to make him return inside of him before it’s too late, Thomas will die.

DAHLIA: What!?

DOMINIC: What can we do to help him!?

LOGAN: Some other Sides of Thomas have gone to fetch the Dark Master. And that reminds me… Talyn, you had the crystal orb, didn’t you?

TALYN: [pulling the crystal ball out] Yes.

LOGAN: Let’s see how they’re doing. I hope they found him already.

[everyone starts looking at the crystal ball which shows the following images. Roman, Virgil and Deceit are in front of a guy around whom Ira is flying]

ROMAN: There he is! Show yourself, Dark Master, there’s no use in hiding anymore!

DARK MASTER: [changing back into his real form] Very clever of you! I should have spared Ira’s life. It was a mistake to let him transform into this and call me out.

ROMAN: Too bad for you, Dark Master. We got you, and you won’t get away this time.

DARK MASTER: You certainly took your time, though. I’ve been sporting Thomas’ form for the last couple of hours, and only disguised myself a few minutes ago.

DECEIT: Why would you do that?

DARK MASTER: Because it was fun to destroy Thomas’ reputation while I was on it. I want to make that vicious Light Master pay for everything he’s done to me. I want to destroy him socially and revel in his suffering before he ceases to be a nuisance once and for all.

DAHLIA: If we needed any more confirmations, now we have them. I’m sorry I have ever doubted you, Thomas.

DOMINIC: Me too.

THOMAS: It’s okay, guys… let’s keep watching.

ROMAN: You truly are a sadist, and if you think we’re gonna let you do that…

DARK MASTER: And what are you planning to do to stop me, Princey? You can’t do anything to me. I’m too powerful for you and without your Light Master, you’re nothing. You should fear me.

ROMAN: Heh, neither you can do anything to us, remember? If you touch us, the pact would be broken and you’d turn back into what you were before, a fragment of yourself trapped as a simple character in Sandersia. That’s what you were as Madilim, weren’t you? I bet it stung. The once all powerful Dark Master, forced to be a secondary character in my stories.

DARK MASTER: [furious yelling] SHUT UP! [putting himself together, turning back to his mocking attitude] It’s true that I cannot touch and you cannot touch me. So we’re tied on this one. Or so you think. Because I just have to wait until Thomas perishes, and then you would all perish with him, and I’d be the winner, so the joke’s on you.

VIRGIL: If we die, you will die too!

DARK MASTER: Wrong! That’s a little extra from the spell. I’m totally independent from Thomas now. I’m just gonna dance above your grave!

DECEIT: You won’t get away with this! Somehow, we’ll take care of you!

DARK MASTER: Oh, do you think so, snake? Excuse me… [checks his watch] Three… two… one…

[Thomas starts running out of air again]

LOGAN: Thomas, hold on! Try to breath!

DARK MASTER: See? I can sense that already. Thomas is facing his final moments. Soon you’ll be history.

VIRGIL: Oh, no, Thomas!

THOMAS: [voice of suffocation] I… can’t… breath…

PATTON: [crying] Thomas, hold on, please!

DAHLIA: What are we gonna do?

DOMINIC: Should I call 9-1-1?

[meanwhile, a stranger approaches the Dark Master]

STRANGER: Excuse me, sir, could you tell me how to get to the Vam York Theater? I’m a little lost in this town and…

ROMAN: What? Who’s that dude?

DARK MASTER: What? Get lost!

[the Dark Master pushes the stranger and makes him fall]

STRANGER: [getting up] Hey, you don’t have to be so rude! I’ll teach you some manners, mister!

[the stranger slaps the Dark Master in the face]

VIRGIL: Uh-oh… [yelling] Sir, get away! That man is dangerous!

DARK MASTER: [angry] You’re gonna regret this!

[the Dark Master points at the stranger with his finger]

ROMAN: [horrified] Oh, no, I know that gesture! Don’t do that, Dark Master! He’s an innocent!

DARK MASTER: As if I cared about that! Die!

[the Dark Master shoots a black beam at the stranger, it crosses him through the chest]

ROMAN: [suddenly in pain] Aw! It hurts!

VIRGIL: [scared] Roman, what’s wrong with you?

DARK MASTER: What? What’s going on here?

STRANGER: [with a mischievous smile] I got you… Dark Master.

[the stranger falls to the ground, then transforms into Remus. Roman also falls down, sporting the same wound Remus has on the chest]

VIRGIL: [leaning towards Roman] Oh, no, Roman! Remus, what have you done?

REMUS: What had to be done! I got my revenge both on the Dark Master and on my brother, finally! I’m sure Thomas can survive without creativity, at least he’ll be alive to tell it.

DARK MASTER: Oh, no, but if you’re Remus, then that means…

REMUS: I’m not a friend of Roman’s, and he doesn’t truly consider me a relative, but we are connected. By hurting me, you have hurt Roman, so the pact is broken. Eat this!

[the bag flies away from the Dark Master’s hand and falls on Roman’s hands, then the Dark Master starts sinking down]

DARK MASTER: [full of angst] No, no! I don’t wanna go back in there again! No!

REMUS: [blowing him a kiss] Bye, bye, blackbird!

DARK MASTER: NOOOO!

[the Dark Master sinks down completely. At the same time, Thomas starts regaining his breath]

THOMAS: [relieved] It’s over… I can breath again…

PATTON: Thomas, are you okay?

THOMAS: I’m still a little weak, but I can feel myself getting better by the minute. I already feel the coldness fading away…

LOGAN: Yes, even as we speak, you’re starting to look better. [he puts the thermometer on Thomas’ forehead, then checks the result] 98ºF which is 36.6ºC. You don’t even have fever anymore. The Dark Master is back into the Mind Palace. They did it!

[Thomas’ friends cheer, but Patton makes gestures to them to be quiet with a worried face]

PATTON: Guys, look at the crystal orb! Roman and Remus are wounded!

[everyone stops cheering and look at the orb. Deceit has grabbed Remus and put him next to Roman]

VIRGIL: Roman, your face! A half is turning into… a fox!

ROMAN: Well, that confirms it… I’m a Dark Side again.

REMUS: Well, you’ll just have to deal with it as I did. You can’t have everything, you know?

ROMAN: It doesn’t matter, anyway… I think we’re not getting out of this one. I hope I can make a good red sprite…

REMUS: Oh, do you think so? Think again, bro.

[Remus touches his wound on the chest and the wound starts healing itself. At the same time, Roman’s wound starts healing itself too]

ROMAN: What? What is going on?

REMUS: Sticks and stones can’t break my bones, brother. The Dark Master tried everything to subdue me, but I just healed myself again and again and just moved on. He can’t do me any harm if I don’t let him. That’s the power of intrusive thoughts, you can never destroy us. And that applies both for the Dark Master and the Light Master.

[after a few seconds, Remus rises up totally healed. Then helps Roman rise up, he’s also all right]

ROMAN: You… saved us all.

REMUS: Nah, don’t read too much into this. I was just saving my own butt, that’s all.

[Roman hugs Remus]

ROMAN: Thank you! Thank you, Remus!

REMUS: [surprised by the hug, a little startled] Look out! If you hug me like this, we’ll fuse again!

[Roman doesn’t listen, he still hugs Remus]

DECEIT: It’s weird. Nothing’s happening.

VIRGIL: I guess something happened when Thomas broke your fusion so abruptly. Perhaps you can’t fuse right now.

REMUS: Oh… do you think so, emo? [hugs Roman back, letting go a little brief smile of joy] Okay… [pushing Roman away after a couple of seconds, faking annoyance] Okay, let go, let me breath!

[Roman lets go, looking at Remus with a loving glance that makes him blush and look away bashfully]

VIRGIL: Let’s go back with Thomas. I hope he is okay now.

[The Sides jump into Thomas’ car, Remus gets on the wheel]

ROMAN: Are you sure you know how to drive?

REMUS: Bro, I was born to drive!

[Remus starts the car which goes away at high speed while Deceit screams in fear like a little girl. The crystal orb turns off then]

THOMAS: If Remus harms my car I swear…

PATTON: Glad to see that you’re okay, Thomas.

THOMAS: Guys, I suddenly thought… What has the Dark Master done while he was on the loose? How many people are going to hate me for things I didn’t do? And even if we explain it wasn’t me, how are we going to explain the presence of someone who looks exactly like me? This is gonna be tricky…

LOGAN: I think I’ve got an idea. I’m going to need Roman and Deceit’s help, though, they are the best actors among us.

ROMAN: [suddenly opening the front door] Thank you for your compliments, Logan!

THOMAS: How fast were you going, Remus!?

REMUS: I don’t know… Is it normal that the car emits smoke and fire from inside the hood?

THOMAS: [horrified] What!? My car!

REMUS: I was kidding! You should have seen your face, Thomas! [starts laughing like a maniac]

THOMAS: If you weren’t virtually indestructible, I would kill you…

ROMAN: [noticing Dominic and Dahlia] Oh… whoops… did… did I miss something?

THOMAS: Oh, don’t worry, Roman. Dominic and Dahlia are on our side, they’re our allies now.

ROMAN: Oh, okay… I got scared for a second.

THOMAS: Guys, let me introduce them to you. This is Virgil, my Vigilance, although I’m still fond of calling him my Anxiety. This is Deceit. Inside of him, there’s Honesty. It seems he doesn’t want to show up, but you’ll get to know him someday. And these are Prince Roman and Duke Remus. Together, they form my Creativity.

DOMINIC: Nice to meet all of you.

DAHLIA: Same.

THOMAS: Now Dominic, Dahlia, remember your promise. You must never ever tell anybody, not even the rest of our friends or families. I don’t wanna become some sort of laboratory guinea pig. Okay?

DOMINIC: Don’t worry, Thomas, your secret is safe.

DAHLIA: You can count on us, our lips are sealed.

REMUS: Well, this was fun, now I gotta go. Give me back my cauldron, Roman.

ROMAN: [giving him the cauldron] Here you are. But before you go, let me tell you that you got your facts wrong.

REMUS: About what?

ROMAN: You thought that it was me being wounded what broke the pact. It wasn’t. As the Dark Master didn’t touch me and didn’t know he was gonna harm me, that wouldn’t have counted as “actively harm” me. If the pact was broken, it’s because he directly harmed you, because you are my brother, and now I finally feel you like my brother. I hope you see it as a proof and give me a chance to start over again with our relationship.

REMUS: [shows a brief emotional smile, then tries to mask it with his usual attitude] I just want to make something clear so that you don’t get mistaken. I am what I am. I still am Thomas’ intrusive thoughts and the part of creativity he doesn’t like. I’m not gonna dulcify myself like Virgil and Deceit did, because that’s not how I work. I can’t change who I am. In fact, I don’t wanna change who I am. See ya later, Thomas, cause you’re gonna see me soon, whether you like it or not…

[Remus sinks down]

ROMAN: [sighs] That’s something I’ve always known, but this is a start anyway… Now, what were you saying about me being a good actor? Not that I disagree or something.

LOGAN: I didn’t say you were a good actor. I said you were the best actor among us, alongside Deceit. Not counting Thomas, the bar is not that high in this Mind Palace, anyway.

ROMAN: [beat] Fair enough…

LOGAN: Listen, this is the scene you are gonna perform. I want Deceit and you to go to the Taco Bell that is located in that downtown avenue and say this. [gives them a paper with some lines] I also want Thomas’ friends to show up, to give realism to the scene. This will help clean Thomas’ name.

ROMAN: Hmm… I don’t know, Logan, these lines do not let me show off my acting skills. Couldn’t I tweak this a little bit, just for a better show?

LOGAN: [rolls his eyes] I know it’s hard work for you, Roman, but this has to be realistic.

ROMAN: Are you implying that I can’t act realistically?

LOGAN: Are you implying that I’m implying anything different?

[Roman emits some offended Princey noises]

DECEIT: I’m not good at memorizing lines, Logan. Remember how I was barely able to remember the details in your outfits when I tried to impersonate you. I can’t do this.

LOGAN: [sighs] Okay, then Roman will memorize his lines, and if you don’t remember the exact words, improvise, but try to stick to the ideas in the text, please.

ROMAN: Why do you let him say what he wants and not me!?

LOGAN: [angry snapping] Because I’m the dramaturg, writer, producer and director of this play, and you’re gonna obey my orders, got it!?

ROMAN: [pouty face] Okay, got it, but this play’s gonna suck!

VIRGIL: It’s cool that that is gonna get fixed and all… [sad voice] …but…

[Roman looks at Virgil with a sad face]

ROMAN: I know… Even if now I can spend short amounts of time with you because I’m no longer emitting so much Dark Energy… We are forced to live separated again. It’s not fair.

THOMAS: At least we’re all alive and well and we have time to think on something to fix this that doesn’t imply me catching a lethal cold again.

ROMAN: Yeah, sorry again, Thomas. You have gone through so much because of me. I don’t know how to apologize…

THOMAS: It’s okay. All’s well that ends well.

ROMAN: If only it had ended well for everybody… I wish there was a way to fix this other than recurring to that monster. For him it was so easy, he said that he didn’t even need the objects, he… [suddenly opening his eyes wide] …wait a second…

THOMAS: What?

ROMAN: He also said that for a Master it was child’s play to turn Dark Energy into Light Energy… Thomas, you’re also a Master! If the Dark Master was right, you also have the power to turn me back into a Light Side!

THOMAS: What? But… how?

ROMAN: I don’t know, Thomas, you are the Master, not me!

THOMAS: I don’t know how to use these powers! I didn’t even know that I had them in the first place!

LOGAN: And yet you have used them already, at least once, and now everything’s making sense.

THOMAS: What?

LOGAN: Thomas, it was you who unconsciously turned Roman into a Dark Side. While you forced the separation, you used some ability that made the transformation. You have the power in you to revert that transformation.

THOMAS: But I don’t know how to do that!

LOGAN: It’s okay. Now that your life is not endangered, we have plenty of time to help you learn how to use your Light Master powers. We’ll help you in the task the best that we can. It’s only a matter of time.

THOMAS: But are you sure you’re gonna be all right in the mean time, Roman? You’ll have to be separated from Virgil, who knows for how long?

ROMAN: Yes, it’s gonna be torturing, but at least I have something I did not have these past few days: hope. Now I know that, sooner or later, Virgil and I will be reunited.

THOMAS: You have so much faith in me… I don’t know if I deserve it.

PATTON: Of course you do, kiddo! You can do so much more than what you give yourself credit for!

ROMAN: I do have faith in you, Thomas, because Patton is right. Quoting what Christopher Robin told Winnie the Pooh, “you are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem and smarter than you think”. If you weren’t, we wouldn’t be here, remember?

THOMAS: Thanks, guys.

DOMINIC: And we’re gonna help in anyway we can, Thomas.

THOMAS: Thanks to you too. The truth is your help is gonna be greatly appreciated.

DAHLIA: It’s okay, Thomas.

THOMAS: [to the camera] Well, to all of you out there…

DAHLIA: [confused] Who are you talking to now, Thomas?

JOAN: It’s okay, Dahlia, I’ll tell you later.

THOMAS: Thank you so much for watching, and until next time, take it easy, guys, gals and non binary pals. Peace out!

[end card]

[It’s the morning after. Joan, Dominic, Dahlia and Talyn are with Roman and Deceit, disguised as Thomas and as a copy of the Dark Master respectively, in front of the Taco Bell in the street]

ROMAN: [yelling] How could you do this, cousin? You’ve besmirched the name Sanders!

DECEIT: I’m sorry, Thomas! I didn’t mean it! I… You know what happens to me when I drink!

ROMAN: Yes, you become a blatant jerk, but that’s no excuse! Do you know how many people has phoned me saying horrible things to me because they confused me with you!? Among all my family members, why did I have the misfortune to be a perfect look-alike to you!?

DECEIT: I’m sorry, I don’t deserve to live! [mumbling] This is not humiliating at all… [yelling] Tell me what can I do?

ROMAN: What you can do? Easy! You will go back to Montana and never return! Gainesville doesn’t want people like you, and certainly neither do I!

DECEIT: Okay, as you wish, Thomas! I’ll pack my bags and leave, and never return!

ROMAN: And if you want some advice, stop drinking, or they will also expel you from Montana! You are lucky that no one has denounced you here! Don’t push your luck!

DECEIT: Farewell, Gainesville! Farewell, cousin! Bye!

[Thomas is watching the scene from his car, with Patton, Logan and Virgil]

THOMAS: [frowning a little bit] Wow, overacting much?

PATTON: Well I did like it, it got me all emotional!

VIRGIL: Dad, you’re always all emotional. It’s okay, though, Thomas. It’s true that their acting wasn’t on point today, but I think it will help add a sense of freakiness to your “cousin” and make him more believable, somehow.

LOGAN: Okay, I recorded everything on my phone. Now I just have to send it online, share it anonymously with a few of your friends and, with some luck, it will go viral and clean your name.

THOMAS: But what if my family watches the video? Won’t they be asking questions about who that “cousin” is?

LOGAN: You can always tell them it was an acting and editing exercise. You told me that nothing about the Dark Master’s doing reached them, so they will believe that.

THOMAS: I hope so.

[Roman and Deceit approach the car]

ROMAN: Okay, did you get it all?

THOMAS: Yes, we did, Roman.

ROMAN: I was great as usual, wasn’t I?

THOMAS: [affected voice] Sure… so great…

DECEIT: Okay, can we go home now? Groveling out loud like that has been so humiliating.

ROMAN: Yeah, your acting hasn’t been on point either. Don’t worry, you’ll get the grip on it next time.

DECEIT: [annoyed] My acting!? What about your acting!?

ROMAN: What do you have to say about my acting!?

DECEIT: [sweet but at the same time sarcastic] Nothing. You have been the best actor I’ve ever met, and certainly you do not deserve a Razzie for your performance…

[at first Roman shows himself flattered… then he realizes that it’s Deceit who’s said that and emits some offended Princey noises]

THOMAS: Guys, guys, don’t start again! Just get in the car and let’s go home. We have a lot of work to do!

[Roman and Deceit jump in the car with pouty faces, then the car goes away]

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #fanfic #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #remus sanders #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #sanders sides fanfic #prinxiety #romantic prinxiety #aspects and fanfics

[shockwavepulsar]

Limit Break; Okay so everyone is well aware of the Rinoa is Ultimecia theory and how it’s been debunked and such. I’ve also seen (very very rarely) people suggesting maybe Quistis is Ultimecia but I haven’t ever seen anyone give reason to that other than her hair in the front looks similar and Quistis is the only one to have her portrait facing the other way. SO I’m gonna give it a go. It might be bad, but I want to try. Okay so here are some points (under a cut because this is a long boi):

» Quistis has connection to Edea at the time of her receiving Sorceress powers directly from Ultimecia who has traveled back in time to pass them on before her death. Edea accepts them so one of the girls doesn’t have to. Quistis (as Ulti) then uses the Junction Machine Ellone to go back to Edea (someone she had a connection to at that time) and possess her. » Quistis as Ultimecia would have a subconscious connection to Seifer specifically, offering him a twisted way of becoming something greater than his failure to become SeeD under her tutelage. She was the one sent after him when he broke out of the Detention Center. She was the one who tried to calm him down. She was the one who chased after him to try and stop him. She was the one who stood there first, frozen in time, watching helpless as the Sorceress (herself in Edea’s body) took him away. » She is aware of the Odine bangle and Rinoa’s attempt to trap her with it because Quistis at the time berated Rinoa for trying to use it in the first place. Quistis is one of the main possibilities of failure during the assassination mission when she leaves her assigned post to try and find Rinoa to apologize for being mean. At the time, it seems very bizarre and out of character for Quistis so like THE SIGNIFICANCE!! I mean, yeah, they make it back in time to shut the gate but IT WAS CLOSE. » Quistis’s famous “I guess my charm makes them nervous” line would be a parallel to the Sorceress’s spell over the crowd at the parade. She CHARMS them. It would also be a parallel to her fanclub, perhaps. » Some of her quotes in the Dissida series kiiiiiinda remind me of her? “I will teach you true fear” since Quistis was a teacher. Also one of her lines to Squall specifically is "can you fight alone?” and in FF8, Quistis kind of reprimanded him for not opening up to her and says something like “not everyone can get by on their own” and the “shall we dance” line in Dissidia can definitely refer to Rinoa, but QUISTIS WANTED HIS ATTENTION AT THAT TIME AND WATCHED HIM DANCE WITH HER, COMPLIMENTED HIM ON HIS DANCING, AND THEN COMPLAINS ABOUT HIS LACK OF INTEREST IN HER BY SAYING HE’D DANCE WITH SOME RANDOM GIRL BUT WOULDN’T EVEN LISTEN TO HER.  » The CHAINS. The bigass chains everywhere in the half-time-compression. Quistis’s first weapon is the CHAIN WHIP. She also says stuff like “one cannot escape the chains of time” in Dissidia. She also says “this is not a game” which is something Quistis says to Rinoa in FF8. Also a lot of things Ulti says in Dissidia are related to memories, something Quistis has probably none of if this theory holds any weight. » Quistis in FF8 wants to be noticed by Squall specifically. How odd then that Ultimecia seems opposed by him (and his friends). When they were kids, Quistis wanted to take over for Ellone when she left. She wanted to be the big sister that everyone loved. So there may be some parallels to wanting to find Ellone and use her for herself as well as general vying for attention and proving herself. » Ulti uses what Squall deems to be powerful to use it against him (Quistis calls herself an expert Squall observer so she would know) and then comes Griever. What is Griever able to cast? Shockwave Pulsar. Quistis’s ultimate Limit Break. Although this is just a projection of Squall’s perception of power (and a hint of respect for Quistis’s abilities), I can’t deny the coincidence. Ulti is able to use the ability on her own in Dissidia, after all. » Whenever Quistis casts a spell, she crosses her arms over her chest.

Ultimecia’s final form features her beneath the skirt, hanging upside down with her arms crossed over her chest.

When Quistis is low on health, she sits down with her legs to the side like this:

When Ultimecia is defeated in battle in Dissidia, she does this:

» There’s also the fact that Quistis is already capable of sending enemies through time and space in her Degenerator ability. SO. I’d like to think that maybe Rinoa eventually had to be defeated in the future. Maybe Quistis took on her power when she died, maybe she used a lot of GFs to defeat her and wiped out all her memories. Maybe she fled and was opposed by SeeD but had little snippets of subconscious connections to people without really understanding or remembering why. Maybe she had an existential crisis over what SeeD really was. Maybe she felt extreme guilt for ending Rinoa’s life. There are a lot of possibilities and angles to look at this theory from, and just like the Rinoa is Ulti theory, lots of loose ends and possible plot holes. BUT this is just for fun and to throw out some very striking similarities, parallels, and coincidences. Feel free to add anything if you think of it!

#*Limit Break #*Blue Magic #*Quistis is Ultimecia theory #*this is silly #*spoilers for those who haven't finished FF8 yet

[ace01taro]

🦉✨Weekly reading- All zodiac signs🌞✨

🍂 November 18th - November 24th 🍂

(Messages are lengthy but also insightful!! ✨ Also be sure to check out  your Moon 🌕 and Rising 🌎 signs )

♈️Aries: Aries, this week you will very much be in your head, some of you could be aware of a past “mistake” that you could have made around love, one that was done without “reflection” first. You want to make things right, but the problem is you don’t know where to start? So this leaves you feeling stuck in your tracks. Many of you have taken the time to “reflect” over the situation, the situation coming to mind and causing you grief and guilt for how it played out. Aries, at this time many cycles are finishing, jut as this “pain” and “guilt” you are feeling will eventually “come full circle. This situation will need your “compassion” and “unconditional love”, do not let our past mistakes rule you. If you can “seclude” yourself from the outside word ,do it. Your friends and even family members on the “spiritual plane” wish to help you, but you must take the “first steps” towards this healing cycle. You deserve to be happy Aries, you deserve to feel love again, never doubt that.

♉️Taurus: Taurus, the most challenging aspect of this week could be your sense of “self worth”, some of you could be feeling “guilty” about “moving on” with a certain situation. Many of yo had to release an “idea” or “expectation” or a how a situation was going to play out, while it could have worked for some in the long run, for others, they just did not want to “wait” any longer. So you did the only thing that you could do, you moved on,  found something else, or another person to fill your time. Some of you could even have started new projects and business, and are now in the begging stages off getting it “off the ground”, yet sometimes that “person” or “situation” comes to your mind, and you begin to question the “whats ifs?”. This situation calls for you to rely on your “intuition” Taurus, only you will know what is best for you, whatever you chose to do next, understand that you will continue to grow and develop, that this “process” is forever ongoing you in a sense are like a ”flower”, you are only just begging to “blossom”, your journey has only just begun.

♊️ Gemini: Gemini, this week you are going to be giving your attention and time to learning the art of being a “rebel”, this week you are putting your foot down and some could say “Growing a back bone”. Whatever this situation is, you are just tired of being “played” or labeled as a “fool”. While you do not know all of the steps that will be taken, you are planning on embodying the energy of the  “emperor”, this is someone who is “controlled” when it comes to their emotions, thy are calm, and do not need to shout or show anger to get something across, they simply give off the vibe of someone who is not to be “toyed” with, they are in sense the “Head honcho”. This old part of you is dying off Gemini, that new part of you that wishes to be see and taken seriously is now in the making. Spirit asks that you go out side if you have been at home  or working to much, take the time to surround yourself with “Mother nature” for she will show and lead you through this “transformation”.

♋️ Caner: Cancer, this week you are going to be doing your best when it comes to moving on from “difficult times”, there was something that could have been causing you to feel extremely “weighed down” it was if you had the “world” on your shoulders and you did not know what to do. It became a burden to you Cancer. Many of you could have been continuing to carry around a “relationship” or “connection” that was “going nowhere” or  was “one sided”, you did not want to deal with the “fallout” at the time,and you chose to simple “move forward” and keep the “Good fight”. Now you are finding peace in knowing that this situation has come “full circle”, within you there is a new sense of “hope” and “rebirth!”. Spirit says not to give up or back down! you re just begging to blossom and need to keep “open” and “receptive” to all things that the universe wishes to give you now! This “gift” or “miracle” will be coming in quickly! so be sure to be ready!

♌️ Leo: Leo, this week you will be healing an issue when it came to another opinions about you, Harsh or false words could have been used against you, and it might have done substantial damage to your sense or worth. Now you find yourself on a path that could be away from others, a solitude one that involves you seeking and restoring what was once taken away from you. Leo, Spirit wants you to be bold at this time! Unleash the adventurous side within you! While others might try and control the fire that now sparks within you Libra, know that even more energies are looking for you to “shine brightly!” they want you to show your true colors! to walk and be in your “Divinity!” Do not be afraid to show this side of yourself Leo, your energy is healing for many. You are a beckon right now, you are guiding and being a light to those who still do not understand their own Divinity!

♍️ Virgo: Virgo, this week the energy could be extra heavy when it comes to you having to leave a situation, this situation involving a connection that was made at a young age or was seen as “pure” and childlike to many. You will be going in this week so that you can “reflect” and “release” any and all old pain and hurts that could still be lingering. Virgo, if you feel any kind of compression or pressure on your chest this week, know that when this happen ( and you are not known for having any health condition), this usually means that your heart is being opened and “cleared’. This block could have had you feeling “numb” or even “empty” in  seance” for this is where the feeling of “love” is most strongly felt and understood. Virgo, if you have ever considered whether or not you are worthy of such an emotion, the truth is simple. Yes, you are. Many of you are now on a journey of self discovery and healing, it is a process that will need you patience,faith and dedication. Know that at this time, although you might feel surround by darkness, that you have many loving and caring energies around you, leading you back to the light. You are protected, just as the people you love and cherish are protected.

♎️ Libra: Libra this week could be challenging for you when it comes to seeking the “the place” that you “belong” to. At the moment, it might feel and seem as if you don’t have a place that you belong, but your most definitely do. This is something you will come to understand with time from “going within”. Everything you need to know is already within you Libra, you don’t have to go looking outside or else where to find it. Many of you at this time are also going thought a “Transformation” when it comes to your goals and dreams, you are learning how to “release” all of the “pains “ and “past disappointments”, this way December and the begging of 2019 will start off strong when it comes to you ambitions! Libra you really have nothing to worry about, know that everything is working out just fine! This is a process! you don’t have to rush! If you are worried about your home, things are already improving, the wheel has already turned.If you must, find a quiet place and just sit. Relax and let yourself feel “peace”, everything is working out just fine.

♏️ Scorpio: Scorpio! this week you are going to fee as f something has been “sparked” within you! maybe it a new project at home, or it could be a new goal! whatever it might be, you are now in the stages of planning out how it will look and even feel! some of you are looking back to a “failed attempt” and are now planning to give this situation a “redo!”, you just want a new start. The universe says to be bold at this time! let your colors shine! let your sassy side out! If you are worried about your home life and living situation,know that it is improving! a percentage of you even having the opportunity to move due to a raise in your salary! Spirit also wishes to let you know of an “important role” that you might have, many of you have experienced a “rebirth” that has caused you to become “masters” in a  sense. This means you will have many flocking to seek your wisdom, have compassion for these souls, they are going to need your patience and healing energies. You are a beacon in the darkness for many,lead the way, and they will follow.

♐️ Sagittarius: Sagittarius, this week many of you are going to be taking a “leap of faith” when it comes to making a decision about your “Next steps” in life, especially when it comes to your “emotional fulfillment” and “soul calling”. For some of you, this will involve another person, and for others, this will be a “solo mission”. Some of you could be diving into “dangerous situations”, and yet this is so something can be “cleared out” for good - this could very much involve your family's blood line and even your past life memories and situations. Where your ancestors might have “gone wrong”, you are choosing to “break” and “make amends” with the “universe”, you are making a “great sacrifice”, to clear many heavy and “Dark” energies from the  bloodline. You are renouncing and balancing it for the next generations to come! some of you will feel as if you are an “uncover agent” on a mission. Spirit wants you to know that this is only the “begging” and that you are still growing in to your true potential! be sure to have patience and don’t give up! keep your healthy boundaries up and have compassion for all people and parties involve in this situation! think of the bigger picture!

🛑 Sagittarius PS: You are going to be getting a “refresh” of what you have already learned! your new lessons and “training” will also be coming in! Think of yourself as entering “boot camp”.

♑️ Capricorn: Capricorn, this week spirit will personally be helping you face some of your greatest fears when it comes to the future. Spirit wants you to take a chance at “something new”, they have something good planned for you at you next destination!, they have something balanced, stable and full of love and emotional fulfillment. It might seem as if you have no help, and that you are alone, but that is only a trick of the mind! you have plenty of help, all you have to do is ask! ask the Universe and its “energies” to help you with any situations that have you feeling stuck or confused! Spirit wants you to be bold and daring at this time! Try new things that you otherwise never would have tried! Right now you are extremely fertile! not only in your abundance but also in your creativity! express yourself though this energy! You are getting somewhere Capricorn, believe in it!

♒️ Aquarius: Aquarius, this week you are going to be wanting to offer to “heal” or “mend” a situation that could have gone wrong not to long ago, this is something you do not “give much thought”, and yet you want to get it fixed. Aquarius whatever you chose to do, it will have a significant impact on your next couple of months! If you chose to reconcile with this person, you could end up getting hurt once more. There is something that spirit is trying to “communicate” onto you,something that you could be in “denial” at the moment. There will be much healing and learning from this experience, and there is also lots of Karma at play, if you are unaware of just what this “karma” is , spirit asks that you go “within” that way they can communicate with you, there will be deep “Transformation” going on within you.

♓️ Pisces: Pisces, something is coming to an end this week, and it could involve a relationship or situation centered around love and emotions. Some of you are ready to release “pan” and “hurt” from the past, you are ready to leave it behind so that you may start of something new and fresh! Some of you could have even been Visited by an old flame, maybe they offered you a chance to “make things better”- but there was a “Trick” to it Pisces, and so you chose to “decline” this offer. Pisces, you have broken a toxic cycle! and now have opened a “new path” before you, one where there is not only an abundance of “materials” but also an abundance of “love and emotions!”. This process will be a “balanced” one, and yet spirit and your Angles will be right by your side every step of the way. Things are looking bright Pisces! Do not give up! Be open to “receiving” all of the help that the Universe wishes to “bestow” upon you! this form can come in both the “physical plain” and the “spiritual plane”.

#555 #508 #110 #Weekly reading #Weekly insights #Weekly advice #Weekly zodiac #Weekly tarot #Weekly tarot reading #sun moon and rising #sun moon and venus #zodiac signs #Aries #Taurus #Gemini #Cancer #Leo #Virgo #Libra #Scorpio #Sagittarius #Capricorn #Aquarius #Pisces #Ace01taro #ace01Tarotreadings #Ace01Zodiac #Ace01insights #Timeless mesages #Late readings

[hxlfsoul]

@entangledheroes

ANOTHER DREARY DAY OF WRITING HAD COME TO AN END, albeit it was midnight, much too late for him to care for daily life. The only thing on his mind was getting home soon, considering he’d ventured from his isolated home in order to seek nutrients in the form of takeout, yeung chow rice and curry to be specific, something to satisfy his craving for protein, spice and carbs. In reality, it was only chosen because the restaurant selling his favourite zaru soba was closed and Shoto didn’t possess the energy to cook after eight hours of furious typing, not even stopping when his throat ran dry and his fingers began to cramp. 

Sometimes, he wondered if his writing habits were perhaps unhealthy, if only from the fact he’d had to put on his compression gloves yet again to quell the swelling and provide much needed relief to aching joints.

He was, however, caught off guard when there was a hand on his shoulder, spinning around to stare at the darkness of a shadowed street, empty except for himself and the silhouette at the end of the street, barely lit by the streetlight the other was under. However, he saw no identifiable features, simply the shadow that moved as he stepped towards it, never close enough to see them in detail, only enough to follow. Perhaps he shouldn’t be foolish, following strangers at the twilight hours, beneath the moon. No one would see if he were to disappear, they’d simply be searching for a ghost, for the lost boy they called a friend or a sibling or a son, but he’d be vanished, never to appear again, in an endless game of escaping and solitude, unable to return to the life he had built for himself out of fear he would tarnish the few good memories he had.

❝Wait!❞ He called out, although his words were drowned by the rain, the bag containing his food resting on his elbow as he reached out, his hand nearly touching the hood of their jacket as he ran closer, but it escaped his reach, a failed attempt to discern what was happening and whether this situation was worth following or if it would simply lead him to be another murdered soul on the news, a poor man who made a bad decision and paid the price with his life. 

Soon enough, the figure stopped in front of a building. It wasn’t old, not by any means, but the door still creaked as he opened it, having walked through the garden filled with green grass, more vibrant than anything he’d ever seen, and flowers of all variations, from pure white to deep purples that reminded me of the inky darkness of space, speckled colours like the stars he’d stared at every night, or perhaps they were bright, too bright, almost iridescent in the way they changed each time he looked back at the garden, much too beautiful to be associated with something such as this, with darkness and ominous figures, with silence and the eerie sound of footsteps across wooden floors.

The garden was soon forgotten as he entered the building, one he recognised as an apartment building in what was a high end of town, if only from the fact his father had mentioned a friend of his owned the building in an attempt to convince Shoto to live there rather than on the outskirts of town in a detached house he’d had built from his own design. However, his father had never been happy with it, with the fact it was humble and did not speak of extortionate quantities of money that one did not need to enjoy the simplicity life offered, especially not when Shoto had grown tired of unnecessary extravagance when it pertained to the way the rest of his family had grown accustomed to living as they grew up.

After a while of walking down the halls, attempting to be quiet as not to wake any of the current residents from their slumber, he reached a door, watching the figure slip inside before he pushed it open further, staring at the figure that stood in front of the computer, a phone connected with a wire and an app up on it. Arcade, read the words glaring on the screen in bright blue, lighter than one would expect, on a dark background. However, he didn’t stare at it for too long, turning his attention to the figure standing on the balcony railings, hesitantly moving closer.

❝Who are you?❞ He questioned, although the only answer was a manic laugh ringing out through the entire apartment. He didn’t receive an answer, not vocally anyway, simply the disappearance as they jumped from the balcony and the computer screen that had booted up an email software. Hesitantly, he pulled shut the balcony doors, if only because it was raining, and sat down in the computer chair, picking up the phone and tapping the screen.

[ enter username ] ________ [ add a profile picture ]

The picture he added was simply one of himself smiling, something he’d been told was wonderful by his siblings, albeit he wasn’t too sure how biased they were, as they’d never gotten to see Shoto smile as children. His only expressions back then had been pained, tears shed in his room, illuminated only by the moon for night was the only safe time to cry. However, he didn’t want to think of those days now, not those memories of a life he’d rather forget, tales of fearful words and the loss of a mother, of uncertain identities and rebellious attempts to find himself in the rubble of what could have been a family, but never quite was.

[ username Kadupul has entered the chatroom ]

His lips pressed into a thin line at the message, scrutinising it with confusion. A chatroom, was that was this was? He wasn’t sure if he wished to engage, however he didn’t see how it could harm him, considering his pen name was more well known than his face, albeit he was still in the media from time to time, hyped up as the prodigy son of Enji, holed up within his home constantly, assumed to be taking Endeavor Inc to higher levels in future. What they thought was plotting to take over the markets, to become the best businessman to exist, was simply Shoto’s attempt to write novels, to garner nothing but his own joy rather than the adoration of people, unlike what his father may believe.

[Kadupul] Hello...? [Kadupul] Is anyone here? [Kadupul] What’s going on?

He felt uneasy, as if there were some sort of malicious presence around, but he was alone, in the end. Simply himself and the words blaring on the computer screen, warning him not to leave. Black on a bright red, straining to read, if he were being honest. 

[ WARNING: SECURITY SYSTEM MALFUNCTION. DO NOT LEAVE THE PREMISES. ] 

The words alternated, only one of those sentences on the screen at a time, and perhaps he’d have brought himself to care if he weren’t already exhausted and confused. Considering it was half one by now, he didn’t see any appeal in leaving the building, nevermind taking the two hour trek home from where he’d been lead to. As much as he’d rather sleep in his own bed, it seemed he had no choice but to remain here and see how his future would end up, forever altered by the decision he’d made today.

[Kadupul] ... Why am I here and what do you want from me? [Kadupul] Explain yourselves or I’m leaving wherever you’ve lead me.

( for once, he thought, perhaps i’ll have a little bit of adventure in my life. it couldn’t hurt, could it? if only he knew what was to come, perhaps he’d not have thought so lightly of the situation he’d put himself in that day. )

#014. the entangled lines of fate — threads #187. & i've fallen for an illusion of love — dating sim 02 ( unobtainable ) #046. with shortness of breath you explained the infinite — midoriya izuku #izuku route — well now i have to fall in love (entangledheroes) #entangledheroes #it got long i'm sorry he's an idiot (tm)

[xena-woundedwarrior]

The moments that you ponder life, its meaning and its worth.

Life is truly a indescribable subject... it has so many complex turns and direction changes... So many constant reminds that compress the soul and the belief for a better tomorrow... Often, it can become overwhelming when one experiences the weight and unsettling realization of how truly complex life can be, it becomes almost heavier on the soul than say the realization of how cruel and lonely it can be, which is a difficult lesson on its own.

When we broken, we search for healing and an onward state of mind to leave the hurt in the past. And with work, perseverance and action we start to eventually, as unlikely as it may often feel, feel such things as hope and dreams for the future, as well as those things you swore off of, such as want, desire, acceptation of connection and new beginnings, emotional attachments and as if those childhood dreams weren't so unrealistic after all. They all creep in again, often unexpectedly and unnoticeable until they so developed they not only become noticeable to you but also to well established to just push away and ignore... Therefore the acceptation begins that maybe this time these emotions are real and wont fail you. That dangerous thought starts to form that maybe something shifted in this cruel world and finally you will be able to experience even just a part of the joy of partly experiencing your wishes, dreams and desires.

But just as sure as time will always continue forward no matter what - ...

Life has this way of snapping back you like a snake striking; reminding you -  quickly and viciously - that you have in fact, 0 control over what will happen next.

... - Those forces belong to those with much higher powers then us mere mortals. Therefore, in life, we will have to constantly change, adjust, rearrange, sacrifice and most definitely will always face something much more difficult in the future then what we are currently battling with or have in the past, no matter how bad it may feel at the time.

This is when, unfortunately, we as mere mortals start to question the very existence of life its self, it’s meaning, our reason for being here, the sacrifices made only to receive greater challenges, and the true weight and importance of it all. I myself admit, this is one of the most challenging hurdles to face... the constant disappointment, hurt and brokenness life continues to bring. The way it constantly rips open and reminds us of our deep routed scars no matter how much Bio Oil we have applied to the scar tissue. It constantly shows us that just like us who fight to heal and fight another day, the truth is, is that our demons do the exact same. So slaying him today doesn't mean he wont roar his terrifying head again, reminding you of how much taking this risk hurt you in the past, proving just how much more damage it still can cause and refreshing that soul gripping fear of feeling it again.

How does one deal with the realization of this? How does one come to term with it? How does one accept that the pain you feel right now will come back, and most probably worse? And still have reasons to fight through it all trying to achieve an impossible better tomorrow?

If I ever figure it out, Ill let you know. However, I am unsure of the answers myself. I search to always find a blissful balance between the good, the bad and the ugly... Aiming to live my life by the quote - 

“Don’t let the disappointments of today cast a shadow on tomorrows dreams.”

However, this is a constant, draining and never ending battle to achieve, because the truth is... The stronger I get... The Stronger my demons and their multiplying minions become as well...

#RamblesOfAWoundedWarrior #MyWords #SelfWritten #LifePonderingMoments #ADHD Minds #DifficultRealizations #lifesajourney #TheGoodTheBadAndTheUgly #DifficultTruths #LifeIsAChallenge #NeverEndingChallenge #ItsHArd #UnknownLifeAnswers #WhereDoesItLead #ItsNotEasy #DifficultConcept #InnerDemons #TheBattle #LifeBattle #XenasOwnWords