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mammonshuman92 · 3 years

Text

- Watched - Pt.4

(Mammon x GN!MC)

** TW: swearing, kidnapping, religion, abuse, blood, death (if I missed any I do apologize!)

He smiled wickedly as he turned around, going back to the table he’d been at earlier and picked up the same knife he’d held to you when he kidnapped you. The only other weapons you could see on the table were a baton and a taser. There was also a thick book you could only assume was a bible and a large jar of water. The most concerning however, was the gas can, thick work gloves, and what looked a lot like a body bag.

“This may call for a more extensive purification.”

Your heartbeat quickened, breathing becoming slightly erratic. Your eyes widened at the scene laid out before you, but you tried your best to hold your resolve.

Whatever he plans to do, even if this is where your time on this Earth comes to an end, you didn’t plan to give him the satisfaction of conforming to his insane, backwoods ideologies. For your most beloved demons, and the love of your life, you were ready to fight until the bitter end.

After leaving the coffee shop, Mammon made his way back to your house to come up with a plan. As he rushed back, he got a brilliant idea and immediately made a phone call.

Given their status and connections, he was sure that at least a few of his brothers would be able to dig up info on this Alex dude and the ATA, however he couldn’t risk any of them finding out what was going on, for fear it’d get back to Lucifer, so he had to be extremely careful.

“Ugh, what do you want, Mammon? I’m in the middle of a raid right now.”

Levi seemed like the least likely to get too curious and ask questions, especially since Mammon was the one asking. No way would Levi want to end up being part of one of his usual schemes. And since he rarely comes out of his room or socializes with others, Levi was definitely the best one for the job.

“I need a favor.” Mammon could hear the slight clacking sound of Levi’s controller in the background.

“Nope. No way. Your “favors” always end badly; for everyone involved. Goodbye.” He declined immediately, wanting to hang up and get back to his raid.

“Wait, Levi! It’s real important!” The second born begged. Levi could hear the desperation; the emotion in his brothers voice. His interest was piqued now, along with an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

“What is it?” He asked with a sigh, casting his controller aside.

“I need ya to dig into a group called the ATA.”

“ATA?”

“Yeah, it’s the “Anti Treaty Association”, they’re in the human world. And see if ya can find anythin’ on a guy named Alex who might be associated with ‘em.”

“Anti Treaty..? As in the peace treaty? Mammon, what did you-”

“I’ll explain everythin’ later, okay? Just.. please, Levi? I need ya to look into it.” The level of sheer desperation in Mammon’s voice was concerning, but he didn’t push the issue.

“Okay, okay. Hang on..”

The sound of Levi’s fingers rapidly clicking across his keyboard flooded Mammon’s ears for the next few minutes.

“Okay, so the group was founded not long after the Devildom exchange program was formally announced. They started small but grew in number quickly; looks like mostly religious extremists. They hold protests at any event involving relations between our world and the human world. Let’s see..” Levi went quiet for a few seconds as he scanned his monitor.

“It looks like some of the members have a clean record, aside from a couple parking tickets, but there are a few bad apples. Most of the charges consist of harassment, disorderly conduct and destruction of property, all of the incidents taking place at protests. All of them were first time offenders, and have stayed out of trouble since then.”

“Anythin’ about an Alex?”

“Hmm, nope. Do you have a last name maybe? Or literally any other info? I can’t do much with just a first name, especially a common one.”

“Umm, he drives a really old car and he works at a take out place as a delivery driver.” Mammon proceeded to give him the name of the restaurant.

Levi began tapping away on his keyboard again, scanning all the social medias and websites associated with the group and the take out place, looking for anything related to the clues Mammon gave him. Without much to go on, he wasn’t very hopeful and began to lose courage, then he finally got something.

“I got a hit on a few social media accounts related to the ATA. I was able to find some pictures with a crappy older model car in them that were taken at some of their protests a few months back, one of the pictures had a shot of the license plate. After doing a quick search of public record, the car came back as registered to a John A. Smith, who actually died a few years back..”

Mammon sighed, feeling dejected. That information was all he had, and it may not have even been enough to be helpful.

“Wait..” Levi suddenly said, pulling Mammon from his thoughts.

“His obituary says he had one child; a son named John Smith Jr. I can’t find him on social media under that name, but if we assume the middle initial “A” stands for say, Alexander, then I may have something. I found an Alex Smith, and it’s honestly gotta be him. He’s a member of the official ATA group page, and several others like it. His profile picture has a crappy looking car in it, granted it’s mostly cropped out, but it looks a lot like the one I ran the license plate number on. I’m confident that this is your guy.”

Mammon felt like he could breathe a little easier. Another piece of the puzzle had, hopefully, come together.

“Where do I find him?”

“Not sure. His last location was near the middle of nowhere, but it hasn’t pinged anything for quite some time. I’ll send you the coordinates.”

“Thanks, Levi. I owe ya big time.”

“Yeah. Uh, Mammon? I know you said you’d tell me later, but is everything alright? You’ve never asked me to do something like this before. It kinda feels like you’re looking for someone..”

He waited for his brother to stutter out some kind of excuse to explain it away like he always did when he got himself into some kind of trouble, but he didn’t. Which only made more red flags pop up for Levi.

“If anyone asks, especially Lucifer, this never happened and ya haven’t heard from me, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay, Mammon..”

He didn’t like the feeling he had, the gut instinct and the hair that stood up on the back of his neck that told him something was seriously wrong.

After he hung up with his brother, he decided to dig a little deeper. He traced Mammon’s phone and found him at a location nearby the restaurant he’d had him research. His awful, suspicious feeling was confirmed when his brother’s location came back as one in the human world. A little extra digging of public land records and it pinged as your house. His heart sank as he thought about the urgency and desperation in his brother’s voice.

He traced your phone, but it just showed the same location as Mammon. But, if you were there, why would he be so frantic? His stomach churned when he realized that there were only a few things that would cause Mammon such distress, and seeing as how he was apparently in the human world, at your house, desperate to find some random dude, it couldn’t be good. Whatever was going on definitely involved you. That thought alone made him sick to his stomach.

“I hope I’m wrong. Please be okay, MC.”

*bzzz* *bzzz*

Mammon opened the new text message from Levi, which contained the coordinates to Alex’s last known location.

“MC has gotta be somewhere near this location. If not, maybe I’ll be able to pick up their trail.”

He was pacing around the living room, going over possible plans for his next move. Thankfully it would be dark soon and there was also a pretty big storm rolling in, which would provide the perfect cover for him to scout from the skies. Heavy wind and rain would make it nearly impossible to pick up your scent though.

He went into your bedroom to retrieve something of yours that would be heavy with your scent, like your favorite jacket or maybe a pillowcase. As he looked around the room, he spotted a strip of pictures shoved in the frame of the mirror on your dresser. A warm smile spread across his face.

It was of the two of you, not too long after you’d officially started dating. He remembered that particular day very well. You’d decided to walk the cobblestone streets of the Devildom, much like you often did together, but this was different. There wasn’t anymore of that “trying to pretend neither one of you had feelings for the other” junk. It was just..real. You were actually his. He reminisced about how warm your hand felt in his, the way his stomach erupted in butterflies when you looked at him with pure excitement after you’d stumbled upon the photo booth. The way you threw yourself at him, locking your lips onto his for the last picture; the shade of red your cheeks turned when you pulled apart.

That day was one of his favorite memories of you. You were so happy and full of life; looking at him with such excitement and love.

The haunting reality came creeping back in on him, sending his beautiful trip down memory lane, spiraling into despair. There he stood, alone in your bedroom, while you were gone. Taken, by some psychopath. His whole world, snatched right from underneath him as he sat down the hall.

The more he thought about it, the worse he felt. How could he? He should’ve been there. He shouldn’t have let you answer the door. He should’ve done something, anything.

“I knew somethin’ didn’t feel right, and I should’ve listened to what my gut was tryin’ to tell me. This is all my fault..” He ran his finger over the pictures on the mirror, letting a few tears escape before aggressively wiping them away.

“I will find ya, MC. And I promise that I’ll make ya safe again, I swear it.”

He felt a sudden vibration in the floor followed quickly by a deep rumble from outside.

The storm’s comin’. It’s time to move.

He grabbed the shirt you had worn the day before from the hamper and quickly smelled it to make sure your scent was strong enough. From the way it made his heart twist in agony, he was sure it would do just fine.

He shifted into demon form and headed straight for the door. With the approaching storm, it was dark enough now that he could fly and remain unseen. Since he was by himself and up against the unknown, having the element of surprise would come in handy.

“When I find that piece of shit, he’ll understand why I hold the rank of the second strongest of the Avatars.” He growled into the dark of the night as he stepped out onto the front porch.

With that, he shot up into the night sky, stealthy and silent.

“Extensive purification? Is that what the body bag is for?” You asked audaciously.

Naturally, you were scared. This mad man kidnapped you at your own damn house in broad daylight and drug you to what you could only assume was the middle of nowhere to tie you up and torture you. So yeah, you were pretty fucking wigged out to say the least.

But, did that mean you would back down? Let him know you were scared so he had the extra control over you? Make him feel like he was winning?

Absolutely not. You’d never give him the satisfaction. On the inside you were shaking, writhing in terror; begging for Mammon to come and save you. But on the outside? You were taking none of his shit, and playing zero games. If you were going to die here, you planned on going out as uncooperative as you could. Fuck him.

“Hopefully it won’t come to that.” He turned around to face you from where he’d been at his make shift work table, with the taser in his hand. He closed the gap between you, keeping his eyes locked on yours, and leaned down until he was just inches from your face. “The night is still young though.”

“Then why not just kill me now? Get it over with.”

“I want to cleanse you; save your soul.” He said, as if you were crazy for not grasping that concept.

“But why? Why are you so worried about my soul? You prodded.

“Because you have chosen to lay with demons and abandon your humanity.”

“And? Who I choose to love and spend time with isn’t yours, or anyone else’s business.” You snapped back.

“You see, that’s where you’re wrong. Your part in all this; the exchange program, being close with a bunch of high ranking demons; you as a human are committing the highest level of treason by aiding in the progression of uniting the realms. You are opening the door for corruption, chaos and sin to pollute our world.”

You laughed lightly in disbelief.

“When has our world ever been free of any of those things? Do you honestly think the Celestial Realm would be part of the treaty if He wasn’t on board with it? Stop blaming others because you’re close minded. Your blatant hatred for others is your fault, your sin. No one else’s.”

His face turned red and his expression changed into one of anger at the mention of Him. He stormed off toward the work table.

“And by the way, none of this-” You wiggled your fingers around as best as you could in an attempt to gesture around you, “is free of sin. Pretty sure He would frown upon this. Maybe even more so than my relationship with his sons.” You couldn’t help but smirk at your own jab.

He turned back to face you, bible in hand and quickly walked back to where you were hanging, and knelt down into your face again.

“It’s time to begin.” He said with sick, sadistic smile on his face; ignoring what you’d said.

With one quick movement, he lifted you off the giant hook your hand restraints hung from; letting go of you when you were a few feet from the ground, slightly knocking the wind out of you. Although you were being a little mouthy, you still felt pretty weak from being trapped inside that trunk. Not to mention that your shoulders were killing you from being suspended for so long.

He pulled you across the concrete floor by the hand restraint, stopping once he reached the stock tank. He opened up his bible and laid it on a little table near the side of the tank. He picked you up easily and climbed into the water. Even with as hot as it is, the water was frigid. It was only about four feet deep, but being restrained and unable to move freely, you would easily drown if Alex didn’t keep hold of you.

He stood at your side, facing you with his hands firmly grasping your arms right below your shoulders. He started reciting scripture from memory, glancing back at the open bible a few times for reference. He began to repeatedly dunk your head below the surface of the icy water. He recited the same passages over and over again, making it easier for you to figure out when to hold your breath. Although, a few times he seemed to hold you under a little too long, leaving you gasping for air when you returned to the surface.

When the never-ending baptizing finally did come to an end, he plucked from the water and returned you back to where you had been suspended. You were shivering uncontrollably and your head was pounding. No doubt from lack of oxygen after having to hold your breath, then gasp for air more times than you could possibly count. The added weight of your dripping wet clothes added to the searing pain in your shoulders.

He went over to the work table and grabbed the big jar of water you’d seen earlier. He dipped his fingers in it and flicked it at you whole reciting scripture. You assumed that it was holy water.

As you listened to him drone on and on, you found it hard to stay conscious. You haven’t really felt right since getting out of that scorching trunk; you most likely had heat exhaustion.

“Does being saved from eternal damnation bore you?”

“No, just you.” You replied weakly, looking up at him and trying to muster a smirk.

“Is that so?” He challenged.

He abruptly turned around and went back to the work table, returning a moment later sporting the thick work gloves you’d seen earlier, carrying the taser in his hand.

“Then I suppose we need to take it up a notch.”

Mammon went straight to the coordinates Levi sent him, but found nothing except dirt roads and cow pastures. Even from an aerial point of view there wasn’t much to see. After circling the area several times, he landed atop a tree in a densely wooded area. Although it was pretty dark out here in the middle of nowhere, far from civilization, he still couldn’t risk being seen as Alex could be watching; waiting for him to come for you.

“Where are ya, MC?” He quietly asked aloud, eyes continuing to scan the darkness that enveloped his surroundings.

With every passing minute his heart grew heavier, his chest tighter. It felt as if he couldn’t breathe properly. As cliche as it sounded, you were his literal heart; his entire world.

Before you came to the Devildom, he thought he had it all figured out. Stealing and gambling, partying every night, spending money like there was no tomorrow, making shady deals with witches. He was living what he considered the luxurious life of a high roller and he couldn’t get enough of it.

Then you came along, and he was forced to be your guardian or sorts and look after you. It was such a pain. You made it harder for him to give Lucifer the slip so he could go on gambling binges and live up to his title. But, being the weak, magic-less human you were, you needed constant protection.

It didn’t take long before being your protector became something more than what he was ordered to do. He needed to be the one to watch over you, the poor helpless human. His human. As soon as he got a taste of what it felt like to be around you, he couldn’t get enough. He was hooked.

Your smile and the sound of your laughter, the face you make when you’re concentrating or how you pooch your lips out when you’re getting irritated. The never ending kindness you showed him, especially when he was less than friendly at first. Even during those early days, just simply being near you brought him a sense of peace and warmth. The energy you radiated was intoxicating. Before he realized what was happening, he was a lost cause; completely wrapped around your finger.

If someone were to have told him he’d end up completely smitten with a human, he would’ve called them crazy. The Great Mammon would never waste his precious time on something that didn’t involve Grimm and how to obtain and/or spend it, much less a human. Smitten is precisely what he was though, to say the least. Not that it bothered him in the slightest.

He’s been around for thousands of years, and never once has his heart beat the way it does now. He’d always known love because of his siblings, and even the great loss of a loved one when Lilith died. While he would move mountains and do anything for his family, and even lay his life down for them, the way he felt about you was completely different. He would do all those things for you as well, and so much more. You knew him on a different level, a way no one else ever had in all his existence.

Relationships were never really his thing. Sure, he’d had plenty of flings, but most of them only cared about what they could get out of being with the Avatar of Greed, not that it really bothered him. He pretty much only got involved with people when the bitter loneliness became too much to bear. Love isn’t typically something that happens for demons, not that he was looking for it anyway. But, sometimes it was nice to have someone to hold, to feel the warmth of another. Even if he didn’t remember their name. Not that they, or he for that matter, really cared.

Which is why he was so perplexed by the feelings you stirred up inside him. He was one of the strongest rulers of the underworld, who could probably have any succubus he wanted, so why was he becoming increasingly enthralled by you? A completely ordinary human. Or so he thought, anyway. No ordinary human would’ve been able to knock him off his feet the way you had. You were special. You made him feel.

You were kind, warm, headstrong and funny. You’d even put your own life in danger to save those who were much stronger than you, like that time with Beel and Luke in the underground tomb; not because you thought you would win the fight, but because it was the right thing to do. He’d never witnessed such bravery, such selflessness in a human. Especially not when it came to protecting a demon, someone who would be deemed unworthy of such an act simply because of what he was. This once weak, irrelevant human, was now one of the people he respected most. You’re undying love and kindness for others was one of the infinite things that made him fall for you.

He clutched your shirt tightly in his hand, bringing it up to his face and burying his nose into the fabric. He breathed in your scent, filling his lungs as much as he could. He needed to keep the smell fresh in his mind, in hopes of picking up your trail. Tears began to prick his eyes. All the memories of you were nearly too much to handle. He couldn’t lose you. He wouldn’t.

He had no idea what this freak had planned, but he knew it couldn’t be good. The clock was ticking. The more time that passed, the harder it would be to find you. He looked out into the night again, hoping to see anything that might point him in your direction, but there was nothing. The only sounds came from the cows in all the pastures around the area, and a very faint humming noise off in the distance. He couldn’t see any signs of the car or any other clues, but he refused to give up.

“Alright, MC. C’mon, talk to me. Where are ya?” He said, getting ready to take to the skies once more to scan the area. Then it hit him, sending a shiver down his spine. He whipped his head to the right, and breathed in deeply.

MC!!

He took another long breath in, to make sure he wasn’t imagining it. It was definitely your scent. It was very faint, and muddled with something else, iron maybe? But there was no doubt it was yours. Like a shot, he flew in the direction your scent was coming from. The incoming storm was making it hard to stay on the trail, but he was not going to lose it now. He was almost there. Almost to you. There’s no way he was backing down.

A minute or so later he could see the faint glow of a light in the distance. It looked like it was coming from a barn or something. Your scent was getting stronger and stronger as he closed in on the building.

That’s gotta be it!

He landed on top of the building with a thud; coming in a little faster than he intended thanks to the increasing intensity of the storm. He paused a moment, waiting to see if his brilliant entrance had caused any kind of movement. When he didn’t hear anything, he moved to the edge of the roof to have a look around. There was a lot of overgrowth around most of the building, and some spots in the roof seemed to give a little. If he wasn’t careful he might end up crashing through the ceiling. It wasn’t a barn, but more like a warehouse or something.

He walked the perimeter of the roof, looking over the side for any kind of clues. There was nothing out front, and the sides of the building were all overgrown with vines and other greenery. He peaked over the side of the roof near the back of the building and tensed. He could see the car that matched the description of Alex’s, hidden underneath loose foliage in what looked like a poor attempt to conceal it.

I knew it He thought, his heart beginning to race.

He remembered seeing an industrial ventilation fan on the side of the building before he landed, and quietly rushed over to it, crouching down slightly on the maintenance access platform.

By now, the storm was raging full force. The rain was coming down in sheets, the thunder booming as lightning lit up the night sky. The fan was pretty rusted but thanks to the thunder, he was able to crack open the slats slightly without being heard. The sight he was met with made his blood boil, prompting him to let out a guttural animalistic growl that rumbled deep in his chest. The iron smell mixed with your scent he’d smelled earlier, was blood.

Anger like he’d never felt before burned deep inside his very being worse than the raging storm around him, truly making his demon side come out. He never had any intentions of letting this psycho walk away from this, but now it was going to be a lot less humane. The witch’s words came rushing back to him.

‘Bring me the heart of a mammal, not of our world, that thrives on malice and sadism. If you cannot fulfill your end of the deal, I will place a curse on you until the ends of eternity that will make everything of value you come in contact with turn to ash.’

Mammon smiled viciously. Looks like he’d be able to fulfill his end of the bargain with the witch after all.

The “cleansing” quickly shifted from that of something considered somewhat normal, to something very far from it. Nothing about it could be considered holy anymore.

“Are you going to denounce your demonic pacts and sinful ways and conform?”

You lifted your head weakly to glare at him, “Never.” You snarled between staggered breaths. His face twisted in anger.

Blow after blow landed on your weak, fragile body. You spit out yet another mouthful of blood, the wet sounds echoing in the large room as it splattered onto the floor. Needless to say, you were in pretty bad shape.

Blood ran down your face from a laceration on your brow bone. Your lip was busted pretty bad and you had at least a few cuts inside your mouth from your teeth puncturing the skin on your cheeks and lips. You assumed you had some ribs that were at least cracked seeing as it had become pretty painful to breathe. All the spots he tased you in burned like fire, no doubt blistering up badly. He’d held it in the same spot for so long that you could smell your own hair and flesh burning.

There wasn’t much you could do in the way of fighting back, but you sure tried like hell in the beginning. But now you were way too weak, barely even able to scream out in pain. You’d already come to terms with the fact that you probably wouldn’t make it out of here. The reality of never seeing Mammon again swarmed you, tearing away the last bit of resolve you had left. You forced yourself to remember all the time you’d spent with him, making sure he was the only thing you thought of as you began to slowly depart from this world.

You would forever be grateful for the time you had with him and all the amazing memories you were able to make. Movie nights, staying up too late talking and laughing, trying and failing to hide from Lucifer after pranking him.

The way his too big of a hand completely engulfed yours, the way he looked at you when you were both all dressed up for some fancy party at the Demon Lord’s castle and how much he tried to hide his face so you couldn’t see his blush while he held you close on the dance floor.

Sneaking into each other’s beds when one of you had a nightmare, the way his body felt against yours when he cuddled you; his warmth and smell. The way he tried to hide his enormous smile and pink cheeks when you’d gush like a groupie over his newest spread in a magazine.

The time he was a flustered, stuttering mess for three entire days in the beginning of your relationship, unable to hear your name or see you without turning various shades of red because every time he did, flashbacks of loving you for the first time just days before came rushing back to him.

Those intimate moments were your favorite, for more reasons than the obvious. You got to see him in a different light. He was still his usual goofy, lighthearted, prankster self, but he was so much more than that too. He was so sweet it could make your teeth rot. He was gentle, slow. You could feel the love leave him, his heart pouring over into yours. There were always stars in his eyes; pure adoration. Something you could never quite grasp; how someone who had seen the literal heavens could look at a normal human like you in such a way; with such breathtaking awe.

You always felt like you didn’t deserve to be loved by someone as amazing as Mammon, but you would always be eternally thankful. In such a short time he’d brought so much happiness and light to your life. As happy as those memories were, you wished more than anything that you’d get the chance to make more, but sadly it didn’t look that way.

As Alex was coming in to land another blow, a loud thump could be heard from above you; his fist stopped in the air a few feet from your face.

“What was that?” He questioned to himself quietly. He stayed silent for a moment as he listened for more noise, but there was nothing. “Must’ve been thunder.” He shrugged his shoulders and turned his attention back to you, pulling the taser from his pocket.

“It really is a shame that you refuse to comply.” He said as he jabbed it into your ribs, causing you to use what little fire was left in you to cry out in pain. “You really were a fine specimen, until you wasted yourself on demons.” Another jab of the taser, this time on your thigh.

You choked out a weak, raspy laugh. “And I’d do it again, a million times over you sadistic, psychotic freak.” You spat, voice breaking. He reared his hand back to hit you, but was interrupted by another loud noise, this time near the entrance.

He turned toward the sound and decided to check it out this time, picking the knife up from the table on his way. He was only gone for a few minutes, but you were grateful for the break. As much as you didn’t want to give up, your body just couldn’t take much more.

He slithered back through the entrance, soaked from the down pouring rain and complaining about hearing things.

“If you didn’t have a guilty conscience, you wouldn’t be so paranoid.” You said between several pained breaths. Your voice was small and frail, but you still managed to lace some venom in your words. He snarled, storming toward you and sticking the knife under your chin, lifting your head up to look at him. You used what energy you had left to glare at him.

“It’s too bad really, that even in your darkest moments, your last moments, what’s-his-name wasn’t here to save you.” He snickered, tracing the knife from your chin to your jugular, applying just enough pressure along the way to coax out a small line of blood.

“That’d be The Great Mammon to you, human.”

Alex whipped around toward the entrance at the sudden voice, the color draining from his face as a look of sheer terror washed over him.

“M-Mammon?” You choked out, a massive lump forming in your throat. You looked around Alex, the most beautiful yet terrifying thing coming into your field of vision.

It really was him.

Seeing him in demon form was nothing new to you by now. However, the look on his face was something you’d definitely never seen before. It almost looked as if there was an aura around him; a definite shift in atmosphere at his presence. His natural sin was Greed, but right now he embodied Wrath.

It was so easy for you to forget that he really was a demon, as you’d never seen him in such a state before. The sight of him now; raw, malevolent power seeping from him, the low guttural growl, emitting such a heavy, nightmarish presence. He was scary. Even to you.

“MC..” There was pain in his voice; his face distorting in agony when he looked at you.

He charged forward, only making it a few steps before Alex swooped in. He got behind you, reaching around and keeping the knife at your throat; Mammon froze.

“Not another step.” Alex warned. “I have no qualms with spilling the blood of a traitorous demon whore that turned their back on the human race.”

Mammon stared at him blankly for a moment, then burst into laughter. It wasn’t his normal, happy laugh. It was dark, and oozed ill intent. He turned his attention to you once more, his expression softening just enough to not utterly terrify you.

“MC, do you trust me?”

“Since my first day in the Devildom.” You smiled fragilely, noticing the way his mouth briefly tugged up at the corner when your words reached him. He locked his eyes on Alex once again, dark expression returning.

“Close your eyes. No matter what you hear, don’t open them.” He instructed as he slightly crouched, getting into an attack stance; you nodded in agreement, doing as he said.

You could hear Alex huff behind you. “I will slit their throat, or did you hear what I said you filthy, abomina-”

He was silenced mid sentence by a sudden impact that jostled you slightly where you hung. You could hear gasping breaths and Mammon’s same sadistic laughter as earlier, followed by several ear splitting cracks and tearing sounds as Alex screamed out in pain; wet, squelching noises and heavy thuds rang through the room as several things hit the floor. It went on like this for several minutes, until the screams finally ceased.

You pretty well knew just by the sounds, that you were finally free; that psycho would never be able to hurt you again.

Moments later, you were lifted off the large hook and being cradled gently in arms that you knew all too well. Mammon sank to the floor, his wings wrapping around you protectively, shielding you from the gore you didn’t need to see.

“MC..” He whispered, tears running down his cheeks as his eyes scanned over your frail, broken body.

As much as you wanted to savor the moment of finally being safe, once again in the arms of your demon, the reunion would have to wait. You had been through so much and your body couldn’t take any more. You began to fade in and out of consciousness, no longer able to hold on.

“MC..? MC! Stay with me! Please, please hold on just a little longer.” He begged, his voice cracking as he patted his hand against your cheek gently. You tired to put a hand on his cheek to soothe him, but your arm fell limp halfway to his face as you lost the fight to stay awake. You heard him yell your name a few times as you drifted, his voice fading away slowly.

What is that infernal noise?

You had suddenly become hyper aware of an out-of-the-ordinary noise somewhere close by. An alarm clock perhaps? No, it was more of a beeping sound than a shrill ringing.

You lazily opened your eyes, immediately regretting it and squinting them shut because of a blinding white light that was shining in your face. You blinked several times as you tried to adjust.

As you scanned the room slowly, it started to look as if you were in one of the rooms in the Demon Lord’s castle, but it appeared to be set up as a hospital room of sorts. The blinding light was coming from one of the big lights they use at the dentist office. You soon discovered that the beeping noise you’d been hearing was actually one of several monitors you were hooked up to.

Everything started to fall into place and make sense, memories coming back of the events that brought you here. The monitor closest to you started to sound an alarm, indicating your heart rate had picked up and your blood pressure was rising. Seconds later the door flew open, a figure rushing into the room.

“MC.” He said, breathing a sigh of relief.

Barbatos moved to your bedside and silenced the alarms, opting to check your vitals himself.

“How do you feel?” He asked, pressing his index and middle fingers to the underside of your wrist, checking your heart rate.

“Fine, I guess?”

“You guess?” He repeated, taking a small light from his pocket and shining it in your eyes, checking the dilation of your pupils.

If you remembered correctly, which you’re very sure you did, your injuries were extensive. There’s no way you could forget that level of pain. You felt tired, kind of groggy from sleep, but there was no pain.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“About three days.”

Three days?! You thought to yourself, a little shocked.

That’s still not nearly enough time for your wounds to heal. You must have looked as confused as you felt, prompting and explanation from Barbatos.

“Your injuries were rather extensive, so Mammon brought you here after rescuing you. Lord Diavolo had the best doctors in the Devildom tend to you with magic. Although they healed you perfectly, you weren’t showing any signs of waking up just yet, so we decided to keep you here to monitor your condition.” You nodded along in understanding as he spoke.

He placed the light back in his pocket and moved away from the bed. “I shall notify Lord Diavolo and the others that you have awakened. Please excuse me.” He said as he bowed, then left the room.

You sat up in the bed and criss crossed your legs, careful not pull out your IV or tangle any of the wires to the other monitors. You let out a long, heavy sigh. Before you could be consumed by your thoughts of all the memories of the last few days, the door to your room flung open once more. This time, it was the one person you wanted to see most.

“MC!” He shouted, voice cracking with emotion. Mammon crossed the room in an instant and sat in front of you on the bed.

“Are you okay? Do ya feel any pain?” He asked frantically, his eyes scanning your face then darting to the monitors, hands hovering over you as if he wanted to help but was unsure how. You grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers in his. It seemed to calm him a little.

“I’m okay.” You assured him. Although you’d been put through the wringer, you felt so at peace. Not only were you in the safest place in the entire Devildom, but the one thing that threatened your peace of mind, was now no longer a problem.

“I-I uh, I was scared.. that I was too late. That ya weren’t gonna wake up, that I’d...that I’d lost ya..” He confessed, voice catching in his throat as tears fell from his eyes. He carefully scooped you up and held you in his lap, holding you as close as he was able to with all the wires and such. You sat up a little and snaked your arms around his neck, pressing your lips firmly to his.

While you were held captive, you had been so sure that you’d never get a moment like this with Mammon ever again. You were happy beyond words to be back in his embrace once again with his lips on yours. Smelling his wonderful scent, and feeling his warmth on your skin.

After a few minutes of your lips moving in synchronization, he broke the kiss, and pulled back to look you in the eye. A serious expression washing over his face. “MC, I’m sorry I didn’t-”

You held up your hand to stop him, “No, Mammon. You’re not going to blame yourself. I won’t let you. Everything that happened was his fault, not yours or anyone else’s. He was sick in the head, with a twisted ideology.”

He nodded, “I know, I know. It’s just..” He shook his head as he tried to choke back more tears that threatened to spill. You knew exactly what was running through his mind.

“Mammon, there is no one else in the three realms I’d rather trust with my protection, than you. As a matter of fact, there’s no else that can even compare to you in my eyes. As I already said, none of this, none of it, is your fault and I’ve never once thought it was. I love you, Mammon and there’s no one else I’d rather entrust my life with, or spend it with for that matter.” You placed your hand on his cheek and smiled at him, tears now streaking your cheeks. He leaned into your touch, his hand resting lightly on top of yours for a moment before pulling your hand away and placing several light kisses on your palm.

Barbatos returned soon after, with a doctor in tow. Once they unhooked you from all the monitors and removed your IV, Mammon took you back to the House of Lamentation where everyone was awaiting your return.

It felt so good to be back. The HOL was technically your second home, but nowhere has ever felt more like home than here in the Devildom, surrounded by all your favorite people. And thanks to Lord Diavolo extending your stay until further notice, you were on cloud nine.

Although all your physical wounds were gone, the mental ones were sure to stick around for awhile. You expected as much though, having gone though quite a traumatic experience. Although, it made it a little easier knowing that Alex would never again be an issue.

It was clear that his soul wouldn’t be fit for the Celestial Realm, and you had fears of him being reincarnated in the Devildom and finding you once again. But, Mammon quickly laid those fears to rest, informing you of what he’d done that night after getting you safely to the Demon Lord’s castle.

He said he preformed some kind of ritual that ensured Alex wouldn’t be reincarnated anywhere; his soul having been wiped from the worlds. As if he’d never existed. He also mentioned something about Alex helping him to fulfill his end of a bargain with a witch. He didn’t really go into detail about the whole thing, but assured you that everything would be fine, so you didn’t push the issue. He’s a high ranking demon, after all. This surely isn’t his first rodeo. You were just ready to start the healing process and put an end to this awful chapter in life.

And with Mammon by your side; loving you, protecting you, helping you heal; you couldn’t think of a better way to begin such a beautiful new chapter.

~ fin ~

#obey me #obey me shall we date #mammon x mc #gn!mc #obey me angst #trigger warning #potentially triggering #gender neutral mc #angst #finale #mammon #obey me mammon

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helenarlett-rex · 3 years

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Goosebumps Review #14

So back in January of 2020 I said I would do a review of Werewolf Skin and then I never did it. 2020 sucked. I had other things on my mind. But I guess it’s time I finally go ahead and do that now.

(Spoilers)

Werewolf Skin

Goosebumps (original series) #60

Werewolf Skin was the third to the last book in the original Goosebumps series and the last book in the original series to get a TV episode made of it. The final two books, I Live in Your Basement! and Monster Blood IV would never get TV episodes made of them, or even reprints of the books themselves and would end up languishing in obscurity. In that case of I Live in Your Basement! that’s a real shame because as I said back in my review of that book, it is one of my favorites and one of the best Goosebumps I’ve ever read. And the same can be said about this book as well.

R.L. Stine is kind of a hit or miss author. Sometimes his stuff is great, sometimes he doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing... and sometimes I have to tell him to go fuck himself because he’s body shaming again... But when he is writing about werewolves at least, he never seems to do wrong. And yeah, I still haven’t read The Werewolf of Twisted Tree Lodge, The Werewolf in the Living Room, or Full Moon Fever yet, but the three out of six I have read have all been great. So great that I have to wonder why R.L. Stine hasn’t written about werewolves since the Goosebumps 2000 series... We haven’t had a werewolf book from him since 1999...

Werewolf Skin is actually pretty unique in that it takes a slightly different approach to the whole werewolf myth, but not in a way that ruins it like certain other authors who will remain nameless have done when deviating from established tradition. The story is about Alex Hunter, a sixth grader who is really into photography. His parents get called out of the country on business, so they send him to stay with his Aunt Marta and Uncle Colin in the small town of Wolf Creek for a few weeks. His first week there happens to fall on the week of Halloween so the photography magazine Alex reads is holding a contest with a cash prize for whoever can take the scariest photo and Alex is pretty interested in winning that.

Now we get a bit of weirdness right away in this book, and I don’t mean intentional weirdness... I mean R.L. Stine has forgotten how reality works again kind of weirdness. Because even though Alex is only going to be staying with his aunt and uncle for a couple of weeks, they have arraigned for him to attend school there at the local middle school in Wolf Creek for the duration of his visit. And I’m instantly like... What? I’m pretty sure you can’t just trade schools for a couple of weeks like that... What kind of school lets a student enroll for three weeks? I know R.L. Stine doesn’t usually do much (or any) research when he’s writing these books, but come on... The guy used to be a middle school teacher. This is something I would expect him to know...

But okay... that aside... Once Alex gets there his aunt and uncle tell him there is a cute girl his age who lives across the street named Hannah and that he should make friends with her. And then we get another case of R.L. Stine not understanding how reality works because Alex is all like, “A cute girl...? Aren’t there any boys around?” Uhh... It was clearly established that this kid is in the sixth grade. I remember the sixth grade very well. Unless Alex is gay, no sixth grade boy is just going to turn his nose up at the idea of hanging out with a cute girl. Quit being such an old man Stine... I started dating in the sixth grade... And okay... If Alex is gay that’s perfectly fine, but nothing in the book ever indicates that’s the case.

This hesitation from Alex doesn’t seem to last very long though. The moment he meets Hannah his balls finally decide to drop. I’m not kidding. One moment he’s all upset he only has a girl to hang out with, and then the next moment he’s all infatuated with her and can’t stop describing her “husky, breathy voice” and how much he loves it. I’m not entirely such what a husky, breathy voice sounds like, especially on a sixth grade girl... but from how much Alex’s inner monologue focuses on it, it’s pretty clear that it’s doing it for him.

I should also point out that Alex’s uncle gives him two rules that he has to follow while he’s staying there. Rule number one, stay away from the run-down home next door. That’s where the Marlings live and they are a weird, mean old couple who don’t like anyone coming near their house. And rule number two, stay out of the forest surrounding the town at night. You know... Standard horror clichés that the characters will then refuse to elaborate on, thus driving the protagonist to only be even more interested in doing those things...

Although there’s some conflict between his aunt and uncle about the whole refusing to elaborate on things. When they are first driving him to their house his aunt asks him what he wants to be for Halloween and Alex answers that he wants to be a werewolf. This causes his uncle to freak out and almost lose control of the car. His aunt then asks his uncle if he was thinking about them? “When he said you wanted to be a werewolf you thought about them, didn’t you?” Which of course only makes Alex’s uncle get mad and tell her to stop talking about it. But this situation comes up a few times in the book. Alex’s aunt seems to think Alex should be told about them... we are assuming she means the Marlings... but his uncle is pretty against it and keeps telling her to stop talking about that in front of Alex.

Although his uncle isn’t the only one having that kind of reaction about the topic of werewolves. When some kids from school ask him what he wants to be for Halloween he tells them werewolf as well and they also have similar reactions... Until one kid finally tells him “We already have enough werewolves in Wolf Creek.” And I realize this review is getting pretty long winded but unlike most Goosebumps, this one actually has a lot of detail that builds up the story as apposed to the first half of the book just being filler like I normally see in these books.

But in an attempt to make a long story short, too late, I know... Alex is so dense about everything that Hannah finally just breaks down and tells him that the Marlings are werewolves. It seems to be something everyone in the town knows about but doesn’t seem to do anything about. And of course Alex’s reaction to this is the reasonable one of, Uhh... This is the twentieth century... There’s no such thing as werewolves... Which is why he was so dense about figuring it all out in the first place. He’s not going to jump to the conclusion of, Oh! The Marlings must be werewolves! when he doesn’t believe in werewolves.

This changes when he starts hearing animal sounds coming from next door at night and he watches out his window as two werewolves come crawling out of the Marlings house. I have to give the book credit for actually getting to the werewolf stuff pretty early in the book. While I also loved The Werewolf of Fever Swamp, that one didn’t actually show us any real werewolves until the very end of the book. It was still a great book, but there wasn’t actually a lot of werewolf action in it. This book only give us one night of build up, with Alex forgetting his camera out in the woods and having to go out after it before it gets ruined in the rain, stumbling across some animals that have been ripped apart, and trying to find his way back home in the dark while hearing the sounds of something else out there... But then by night two we have werewolves right out in the open. That’s kind of refreshing.

And I’d like to take a moment to talk about how this book actually puts a different spin on the werewolf myth. Because remember how I said that the whole town more or less believes the Marlings are werewolves? Well this town believes in werewolves so much that they actually teach about them in school. During one of the classroom scenes in this book we get to learn the rules of how werewolves work in this setting. It turns out when you get bit by a werewolf you turn into one when the moonlight touches you. Not just the full moon... Any moonlight. But then when the sun comes up a werewolf actually sheds it’s skin. It then keeps its skin, or pelt I guess... like a fursuit. Then every night after that, when the moon comes out, the werewolf is compelled to put its fursuit back on which turns it back into an actual wolf monster. So werewolves are just furries who can’t stop fursuiting at night. Who knew...? And of course the only way to kill a werewolf is to find its skin while he isn’t wearing it and destroy it. If you destroy the skin you kill the werewolf.

Anyways, Alex gets tricked by some kids at school who tell him they know a place in the woods where the werewolves go to drink out of a pond every night and they want him to meet them there at midnight so he can see it. Now that he actually believes in werewolves, having seen them himself, Alex agrees, thinking that if he can get pictures of the werewolves he can win that photography contest, but when he tries to sneak out that night, he finds that his aunt and uncle have locked him in his room. There is no scene of the werewolves trying to break into his room at night like there was in the TV episode, but we do find out that when he goes back to school the next day the kids are making fun of him because it was all a lie and they didn’t go out into the woods that night, thinking they tricked him into tramping through the woods alone all night. Alex doesn’t tell them that he didn’t go either because he didn’t want to tell them that his aunt and uncle locked him in his room, so instead he tells them he did go and he took pictures of the werewolves. But of course that leaves him with the problem of now they want to see the pictures and he doesn’t have any...

So of course that means there’s only one thing to do. The next night he rigs the door lock with chewing gum and sneaks out to follow the werewolves through the woods to he can take pictures of them. He tries to get Hannah to come with him, but when he knocks on her bedroom window in the middle of the night she refuses to come out. So he tramps off into the woods on his own, follows there werewolves, gets a lot of pictures of them, and actually makes it back unharmed. Not to say it wasn’t a tense couple of chapters... But when daylight finally comes and he follows the werewolves back to the Marlings’ house and watches them take their fursuits off, we get the big reveal.

Oh look at that... Aunt Marta and Uncle Colin are actually the werewolves and the Marlings don’t even exist. It’s just an abandoned house they use to store there werewolf skins in... Although I will say the twist was handled pretty well. I didn’t actually see it coming. But that’s not the end of the book. Like I said, this book had a lot to it. Because now that Alex knows his aunt and uncle are werewolves, he has to decide what to do about it.

The next day is finally Halloween and after he tells Hannah what happened she has an idea to deal with it. They don’t want to kill his aunt and uncle, so they decide that once they leave to go trick-or-treating that night, they will sneak over to the house, steal the werewolf skins, and then wear them themselves. The idea is to go trick-or-treating in the aunt and uncle’s werewolf skins and when the aunt and uncle can’t find them, they will be forced to go the whole night without turning into werewolves. In other words, they are planning to cure the aunt and uncle by making them go cold turkey.

The aunt and uncle figure this out sooner than expected and Alex and Hannah don’t get very far away in the werewolf skins before they show up and start chasing them, demanding they give them back their skins. Alex and Hannah manage to stay away from them long enough that when the full moon reaches the highest point in the night sky the curse is broken and the aunt and uncle are no longer compelled to put the skins on anymore. And naturally at this point I’m wondering why the skins haven’t turned Alex and Hannah into actual werewolves instead. Does it just not work if it’s not their own skins? That seems like a bit of a shame. That would have been a perfect twist ending. They managed to cure the aunt and uncle but became werewolves themselves in the process. Then Alex could have a werewolf girlfriend! But no... It doesn’t seem to work that way...

With the curse broken, they all decide to go back to the aunt and uncle’s house to celebrate and Alex tells Hannah “Let’s go put these skins back in the old house where no one will find them.” Hannah starts getting nervous about that but before she can stop him he’s already gone inside, and once he is in there he finds another werewolf skin still in the house. When Hannah comes in he is confused, wanting to know how there is already a skin there when they are both wearing his aunt and uncle’s skins... to which Hannah tells him that she isn’t wearing his aunt’s skin. She’s wearing her own skin. And when Alex still doesn’t seem to get it, she tells him he’ll understand soon enough, before pouncing on him and biting him.

Werewolf girlfriend!

Honestly this is probably one of the longest Goosebumps reviews I’ve written and there was still a lot of stuff I didn’t even mention. The book just had a lot to it and for once, it didn’t feel like it was filler to pad out the page length. It wasn’t even full of fake-out scares like most Goosebumps are. There were a few I guess, but with actual werewolf stuff happening from very early on in the book, there just wasn’t any need for constant fake-outs. It was pretty nice. And I probably spent more time than I really should have just rambling on about what happened without actually critiquing things... but there just wasn’t a whole lot to critique. Other than a few weird things in the beginning, like enrolling in a different school for only three weeks... the book was more or less fine and I didn’t have anything to complain about.

Definitely one of my top ten Goosebumps books. I’m very happy to see Alex and Hannah get to become a cute werewolf couple. And I’m sure Goosebumps has long been responsible for so many kids discovering new fetishes, so I just have to wonder how many kids developed a suit transformation fetish because of this book?

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biscuitfam · 4 years

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Kiss Me

REQUEST: hello you lovely human! may i request a twelfth doctor x reader in which she's upset about something and the doctor cuddles her even though he hates cuddles? with lots of soft words and kisses akfkskdjdj?? only if that's okay!! - @love-athxna

Hope you enoy athena, you ray of sunsine!

Summary: Touches and kisses have always been traits of the Doctor, until now. Sometimes it’s hers to tell what he’s feeling — especially when it comes to your love for him. His girlfriend.

WC: 1.1k roughly

Warnings: Slight smut??? PG stuff, like heavy make out, but that’s pretty much it.

A/N: God I love writing request fics, like for real, it gives me a lot of inspo. Before I came a fanfic writer I had all these ideas for fics that I wanted to see, but was afraid to ask. I love doing this for others. I do try my hardest to keep the chracters from becoming too OOC though. Please if anyone has a request don’t feel shy, it makes me so happy to see my inbox with you guy’s ideas. PLEASE SEND IN YOUR IDEAS! I”D BE HAPPY TO WRITE THEM!

Also, I may start up my Supernatural blog soon! Check it out at @jackzpizza

Kiss me out of the bearded barley

Nightly, beside the green, green grass

Swing, swing, swing the spinning step

You'll wear those shoes and I will wear that dress

Sometimes, you wondered where the love had gone. You wondered why he stopped touching you, why the kisses drained away, and went into the abyss of nothingness. While the Doctor claimed he hadn’t changed and that this body is still adjusting, quite frankly it seemed like he wasn’t the same man after all.

He felt like a distant stranger.

Close and familiar, but also new and frightening. You never knew what would set him off, and today it was a hug. Today was a rough day as it was the morning you admitted you still had feelings for him, and it did not go as planned. He got rather upset. How could you not love him anymore? He’s the same man to you as he always has been. Just slightly different.

“ You’re just a child. You’re not thinking straight.”

However, telling The Doctor that your feelings are hurt wouldn’t be the best. Putting it lightly, this Doctor wasn’t the most empathetic or understanding of others feelings as his previous faces.

Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight

Lead me out on the moonlit floor

Lift your open hand

Strike up the band, and make the fireflies dance

Silvermoon's sparkling

So kiss me

The tears rolled thickly down your cheeks as you stumbled away from the console room, down the winding corridors, and to the depths of the old girl trying to get as further away from him as possible. Lately, it wasn’t unlike of him to be upset. Or, in other words, irritated. His words were getting harsher. His tones were less love-filled and more defensive. In the distance, you heard his heavy footsteps following behind you.

Possibly it was the old girl who essentially made him chase after you, of course, only after you slammed the door of the TARDIS in his face causing her to let out a huffed groan. She wanted the two of you to make up for the damages done to your relationship. Somewhere along the line of him regenerating now had caused a major dent of imperfection. The difficulty of the situation is pinpointing exactly when everything went up into flames.

When had he fallen out of love with you?

Kiss me down by the broken treehouse

Swing me, upon its hanging tire

Bring, bring, bring your flowered hat

We'll take the trail marked on your father's map

You cried yourself to sleep that night. Tear trails dried to your cheeks and lips crusted dry. Sometimes crying it out is the best solution to a problem, for one, it helps relieve stress. You glanced to the clock perched on your bedside table reading the time back at home. Four in the morning and you’re lying awake dreading facing your boyfriend. Was he still your boyfriend? At this point, you weren't sure if he was anything besides a traveling partner. Before he died and changed into the man you strived to show affection to he was never like this. He would feel beyond guilty. Terribly guilty, possibly to the point of self-loathing.

The first thing you noticed after waking up was the fact you were tucked snuggly into bed underneath the sheets, despite not falling asleep underneath them. Gently you pushed the sheets away and stepped onto the ice-cold floor with bare feet. You made your way to the door and went outside to the isolate halls. In the distance a soft tinkering sounded bringing a sweet comfort of the memories of before. Your fingers shaked lightly as your wrapped the thin, white cotton t-shirt tighter around your body. Nervous habits had always been a downfall of yours, like biting your nails or splitting the ends of your hair. However, never around him, until now.

Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight

Lead me out on the moonlit floor

Lift your open hand

Strike up the band, and make the fireflies dance

Silvermoon's sparkling

So kiss me

The closer you got to the main room of the TARDIS the lights began to dim, and little tea light candles scattered about the hall lit leading a trail. On the stairs and the upper landing portion flower petals of your favorite flower coated the floor. Your heart sped up at the sight and a bright pink blush passed your cheeks. This was extremely out of character for him. Romance tended to be more of his younger selves attitudes. You descended the stairs and stood before the man who scribbled away on the chalkboard seemingly ignoring your presence. He set the chalk down then turned to face you.

“ Humans, they’re so difficult. Needy, demanding, and so sentimental,” He began but stopped when he saw the look in your eyes, then let out a softened sigh as he gently picked up your hands drew you into his chest for a tight, warm hug. With much hestinancy you revipocated the hug and snuggled closer, breathing in the very familiar scent the doctor held despite changing. Cedar wood and rain. Chocolate and coffee. Old books and linen. He smelt of home.

He dipped his head down to face you, bright blue eyes now locked onto yours. “ I know I haven’t been there like I should be. This me isn’t the most romantic man. I’ve become more practical, looking at the bigger picture. I did some research on romance in your century, your decade. I picked your favorite flowers and candles..” He looked around, waving a wrinkled hand at the surroundings while the other rested upon your hip.

“ I just wanted to show you that I do truly love you, and I promise I’ll try harder. Just know I’m bound to slip up at times and say things I don’t mean-” He was rambling at this point, talking more to avoid looking at you. Maybe some things don’t change after all. You cut him off with a firm kiss, fingers bolting up to frame his his cheeks and rounded jaw. At first you expected him to pull away. However, he drew you closer and kept you tight against him with the buttons of his coat digging into your stomach.

Kiss me beneath the milky twilight

Lead me out on the moonlit floor

Lift your open hand

Strike up the band, and make the fireflies dance

Silvermoon's sparkling

So kiss me

“ I love you, Y/N. I never stopped. I just..I just don’t know how to express it as well as before.” He admitted shamefully with eyes filled with guilt. He dipped his head back down once more for another heated kiss as his hands scrambled to slip off his coat. The tips began to sneak up beneath the hem of your shirt. A small smirk played at the corners of his salmon-colored lips, “ I do admit I had some help from Clara. Smart one, she is.”

“ Of course you did, now bring me to bed.” You laughed gently and took him by the hand leading him down the hall. The two of you went to your shared bedroom hand in hand for a night of love, and much-needed comfort.

Maybe it was worth the wait and the pain inflicted upon your heart, but in the end he was your Doctor and always will be.

So kiss me

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lildevyl · 5 years

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Septicscape, Chapter Two: The Corruption is Spreading

Chapter Two! For Septicscape!

Chapter: 1

Summary: The Corruption is spreading and it is now in Jackieboy Man’s world. Two students and the Director of the Music and Arts Program from Ego University went missing! Then they came back but not acting like themselves.

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, static, blood and there is Zalgo Text in here for anyone that might be a little uncomfortable with that.

Tagging: @septic-dr-schneep, @egopocalypse, @starlightxnightmare, @fear-is-nameless, @huffletrax, @burnbrightfadefast, @jackjames-exe, @dolphintreasureart, @dezzydynamite, @power-of-friends-games, @epicfangirl01, @a-humble-narcissus, @thevampireauthoress, @the-scribe-watches, @d-structive, @kisstheashes, @chaoticcrimsonrose, @julywinters, @run-stray-wolf, @thefirsttobreak, @therealjacksepticeye, @weirdmixofweirdness

If want to be tagged or guest star in one of my stories please let me know!

Guest Staring: River Bayou @egopocalypse, Lou Huffle @huffletrax, Erin Treasures @dolphintreasureart. Thank You ghouls and fiends for wanting to guest star! This has been absolutely fun to write!!!!

(The Deep Lab)

"I think he's coming around. Henrik? C'mon, wake up. Come back to us."

Henrik's eyes fluttered open, then he had to shut them quickly shut them. It's too bright! Henrik shifted his head and his eyes were able to finally focus. "Ch-Chase?" Henrik choked out.

Now, he remembered. The "Corruption." But how was he here? Did Chase find a way to save him? All Henrik wanted to do was to hug Chase and cry. He never wanted to leave Chase, make him feel like he abandoned him but Henrik didn't have a choice.

"Yeah, Henrik. It's me," Chase softly said. "And I'm not alone." Chase nodded.

Henrik's eyes followed and he couldn't believe it. "Jack?"

"Yeah, it's me," Jack smiled. Henrik looked around where they were. He was on one of the beds in his Lab. "I think some explaining is in order

============================================

(Several Pots of Coffee and Tea Later)

"And that's when we dragged you back here. Making sure to keep an eye on you." Jack finished explaining. Then took a huge sip of the last remains of his coffee.

"But - but how did you combat the Corruption?" Henrik inquired completely baffled.

"I don't know," Jack answered honestly. "One minute we were in the room trying to bring you back. Then the next moment, I saw . . . The illusion? And was telling you that you are a good doctor. Then it felt like - the Corruption . . . Just - let go?" Jack shrugged. "I don't know how else to explain it."

"The Creator's Power," Henrik answered more to himself than the others. Jack and Chase shared a look, hoping the other knew what Henrik meant.

"When you, Jack, our Creator. Create an Ego, give us a name, a backstory and let the Community know about us. You give us life. Creating a spark from you and your Creativity, you give us a soul. We live as long as you actively support us through any means." Henrik explained upon seeing their confused faces. "Fan art, theories, fanfictions, headcanons, fan-made games, edits, cosplay, photos. Even just watching our videos, help. This is what's called the Creator's Power."

"Wow. I had no idea," Jack said in awe.

"Yes, but if you chose to not make an Ego "Canon" but the Community likes them and supports them enough. Or if members of the Community "invents" an Ego and that Ego gets enough support from the Community. Then they become what's known as a "Fan Creation." Henrik concluded.

"My fans are super amazing." Jack smiled fondly.

"Yeah, they are, Jack. They are." Henrik agreed. "But getting back to the point at hand," Henrik continued. "The others that you see in the different worlds of the Mindscape. Are in fact, ordinary people. Friends, family, people you interact with on a daily bases, even different fans you've met or favorite characters from certain games. They live, fall in love then eventually die. They don't live as long as we do here."

"What happens if you're forgotten?" Jack asked.

"Then we die. Without you and the Community, we cease to exist. Our souls would shatter and then we would fade. And our part of the Mindscape would crumble as well," Henrik solemnly explained.

"B-but Chase said his world crumbled but he's still here!" Jack protested. This made absolutely no sense. The Community and Jack still remembered Chase, so why did his world collapsed?

"To that, I have no explanation," Henrik admitted.

Then Jack remembered something. "You said that the other Egos are here, right?" Jack asked turning to Chase. Getting a nod from Chase, Jack continued. "I think we better check on the others, then."

"You think they could be affected as well?"

"They might be. You were affected pretty badly in one of the vlogs. You've mentioned the Corruption spreading. Even affecting many of your patients."

Henrik nodded, with a bit of guilty look. He hasn't spoken to either of the other Egos since the Corruption began.

"I think we need to check on them. To make sure that they're okay." Jack stated mistaking the look for Henrik being worried.

"Septic City is the closest one to us. We could check on Jackieboy Man. If anybody could help in beating this Corruption. Then it's our residential Super Hero." Chase added.

"That's a good place to start." Henrik agreed. "Plus, the University has a massive Library here in the Mindscape. I could do some more research to try to combat this."

=============================

(Septic City)

"Huh, so, this is Septic City? Beautiful view." Jack stated seeing the City for the first time.

"It's quite beautiful," Henrik commented. "I'm not sure where we might find Jackie but if we head to the University. We should either run into him or at least run into someone who might know where he could be."

================================

(Ego University, Lou Huffle)

Lou Huffle, a senior here at Ego University sat at her desk in the Art Classroom, tapping her pencil. Glaring at their mortal enemy that mockingly stared back at her. Creator's Block had decided to strike and strike hard. Now, here she was staring at a blank page in her sketchbook with a six-week deadline to get her, newest issue of her comic series out. With a frustrated sigh, Lou slammed her sketchbook closed and stuffed it into her book bag and headed out. Her next class started in an hour but she wanted to grab some lunch first.

Halfway down the hall, Lou began to notice something strange. It's the middle of the week, this hallway should be crowded with shoulder to shoulder of people. And yet it’s completely deserted. Where was everyone? Lou had a bad feeling about this, quickening her pace she nearly sprinted to the end of the hall. She pushed on the doors but nothing happened. She tried again and nothing happened. What? Was this thing stuck or something? No, it was locked, but why?

Lou suddenly had a feeling that she wasn't alone. Like someone was watching her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood straight up. A rattling breath could be heard right behind her. Grabbing her sketchbook and with the trigger word to bring her creation to life if need be, on the tip of her tongue. Lou cautiously turned around. There standing just a couple of feet away from her. Stood a girl with stringy sprayed painted hair, button eyes, a faded patched shirt, a patch jacket, ripped jeans and a stitched mouth. Her buttons eyes appeared as if they were bleeding.

The last thing Lou remembered hearing through the muffled whispering and before she succumbed to the darkness was . . .

"Lou! Lou! You need to wake up! This is Jackie!"

================================

(Dolphin Treasures Art Gallery)

Erin stood in her Art Gallery finishing up on her latest piece, smiling and humming "All the Way." She was going to display it for everyone to see before she sent into the Power of Friend Games. They're working on a fan-made game of one her favorite YouTubers, JackSepiceye. She wanted to finish this so she could send it in for the possibility of it being in the game. Erin loved this, she loved doing fan art and being able to express herself like this. It brought so much of joy to her. And seeing everyone's reaction when she uploads her pieces and even taking some commissions. It truly did fill her heart with pride and joy.

Even if her art wasn't in it, seeing all the fan art, the story arch, and seeing all the creativity the Community did into their projects. Erin's smile broaden even more. She went to dip her brush into the paint once more, she stopped upon seeing a couple of red drops on her hand. It wasn't paint. Then she felt something trickled down her chin and landed on her hand. Putting her paints and brushes down, Erin put her hand to her face and pulled back. Fresh blood. Quickly going to the bathroom to see what was going on, Erin realized that she somehow had gotten a random nosebleed out-of-the-blue. That was weird. Cleaning up and grabbing the first aid kit, Erin saw that the nosebleed had stopped. She still didn't know what could have caused it.

Going back to the Art Gallery, Erin began to rub her eyes. There was some sort of discomfort building up all of sudden. Maybe now, was a perfect time to take a break? When Erin returned to her painting and was about to start putting everything away. She taught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and had to do a double take. Her eyes. Her eyes were button-like! One was light brown on the outside but black on the inside. The other one was black on the outside but light brown on the inside. And they began to bleed red and black tears down her face. The last thing she remembered before the darkness took over was . . .

"Erin! Erin! You need to fight this! It's me! It's Jackie!"

=======================

(Ego University, River Bayou)

River sat in the nearly empty Computer Lab staring at a blank computer screen and a blinking cursor. She shut her laptop closed with a more force than necessary (she'll apologize later) and stuffed it into her case. Dejectedly, River pulled out a letter that was the entire cause of her foul mood. She should have just chucked the damn thing in first trash bin she came across and went on her way. But instead, she kept the blasted thing as if rereading what it said would numb the pain. Or would make the cursed wording more bearable. The letter was from the number one publisher in Egopolcalpse and the cause of her distress.

Miss Bayou,

Thank you for considering us as your publisher. We received your manuscript and looked it over. We regret to inform you that Kingdom Come is not what we're looking for right now. We decided to go with another candidate instead. If you have another story you will like us to take a look at for the possibility of publishing. Please send in your manuscript and we will take a look at it. Good Luck and thank you again.

Angel Mercury.

Scowling, River crumpled up the letter and with a low growl, and threw it in the nearest trash bin. Not what they were looking for?! Did they know how much time and effort she put into that story?! What more do they want?! Sighing heavily, River sank back down into her chair and lazily looked around the Computer Lab for a distraction. Right now, she honestly didn't care if she was late to class.

One of the games a student was playing caught her eye. She didn't recognize the student though. Stringy sprayed painted hair, faded patch shirt, patch jacket, ripped jeans and what appeared to be sunglasses that she was wearing. River came over and sat next to the new student. River saw that it looked like she might have been crying earlier. If the running mascara was anything to by.

*Do you want to try it?* She asked.

"If you don't mind," River answered looking at the game case.

Puppets: A JackSepticeye Game by Power of Friend Games and Sarcastic Pasta Games. The developers of Septicscape and the Boss. Private Investigator Chase Brody and his partner Detective Jackie McLoughlin are hired by Marvin the Magnificent to help find his long lost brother, Doctor Henrik von Schneeplestein. Who's believe to be the Puppet Master's lasted victim. You must investigate various characters, plow through multiple and sometimes random battles, solve many cryptic puzzles to decode the where about of Henrik. But beware. For the Puppet Mater is à͡l҉w͟͡a̸̢y̴͠s ̵̨wa̵t̵c̴͝h̕҉i͜n̶͝g̶ and will make you his next puppet if you not careful.

Smiling ear to ear, and her eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree, River dove straight into the game. She was already getting into this game; playing as, Chase and/or Jackie (you can switch between the two). River went to different parts of the city. Interviewing different people, the player (River) trying to figure out who was lying, who was telling the truth, who could be working for the “Puppet Master.” Every now and then River had to stop and massage her wrists and arms and sometimes she even had to rub her legs.

'Strange? Maybe I've been playing and sitting for too long? But this game! Man, I have to know what happens!' River thought to herself.

She continued to play until what appeared to be the final puzzle of the game. She had to decode a message of some sort. Ha! Easy! River decoded it in nothing flat. Then something strange happened. The computer screen went blank. Completely and utterly dark. After about ten seconds, the computer screen flickered back on but it was nothing but a black and green static.

"Um," River took an unsteady breath. "Do - do you know if I might have, accidentally broke the game?" River turned to the student and nearly knocked over her chair. She - the student - she has . . . Button eyes! And the button eyes began to bleed a blood-like ink. She tilted her head and smiled not even breaking her stitched mouth.

River then felt a tug on her wrists. She looked down and realized, there were acid green strings attached to her wrists and ankles. River tried to run for it but the strings yanked her and she fell face first on the floor. Digging her fingernails into the carpet as the strings began to drag her. She grabbed a hold of a leg of one of the tables. Then one of the love seats in the Computer Lab. And finally the coffee table itself.

"HELP!!!" River screamed. And to her horror, there was no one else but the Living Rag Doll, smiling at her. "Jackie!!!" The last thing River heard before she was completely sucked into the computer was . . .

"M̶̧͝y ͟͝Fa̶̢v̵̛o̕̕ri̡t͘e͘͝ ̛L̸҉o͠y̴͝a̶͘l͏̷̢ ̵͜P̷̕úp̸͠pe̶̸̛t̀"

=============================

(Ego University)

Jackie didn't know what to do. There was something very strange going on here at the University. Two students that Jackie had classes with, Lou Huffle and River Bayou, went missing yesterday. Lou was a very hard working student, even if it wasn't her best subject. She always strive to do her best. So, for Lou to just "skip" her classes? It just didn't make any sense.

Then, for Lou to just materialize out of nowhere the next day, and act as if nothing happened? That was not like Lou at all! Not only that but Lou has been obsessing and working at her desk in the Dolphin Treasures Art Gallery none stop. She's been working on her brand new comic: Nox. Never taking a break except to eat and/or to get more art supplies.

And the strangeness doesn't stop there. Erin Treasures, the Director of the Music and Arts Programs and the owner of the Dolphin Treasures Art Gallery, went missing yesterday as well. No one had seen or heard from her all day yesterday. That wasn't like her. Erin, no matter how busy she might, always took some time out to help someone. So, for her to not be heard from or no one was able to find her yesterday? Yeah, something was up!

What made it worst though, was like Lou. Erin showed up out of the blue, the next day, like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Obsessing about making the perfect painting and working none stop, except to eat or get more art supplies. She's painted about four different Septic Ego portraits, stop to look at them, and then she carelessly chucks them into a storage room. Constantly saying, "No, it's not right. It's not perfect. I need to make the perfect painting. It needs to be perfect!"

Jackie needed help. He decided to call Henrik and Chase and see if they could help out. Jackie felt a little guilty about doing this, he hasn't spoken to Chase since his world collapsed. And he hasn't spoken to Henrik since he began to research what was causing the Corruption. Taking a deep breath and taking his cellphone out, Jackie dialed the number he knew by heart. "Henrik? It's Jackie. I need your help. Can you and Chase come by the University? I think it's spreading."

Dread was beginning to seep it's way into the pit of Jackie's stomach. River Bayou was still missing.

==============================

(The Ego Cafe)

Tapping his fingers against his leg, Jackie impatiently waited for Chase and Henrik to arrive as the minutes slowly ticked by. Huffing a frustrated sigh for the umpteenth time. Jackie began to pace, outside the Cafe. The Cafe was on the campus and towards the right as you walk in. Giving Jackie the perfect view of the Front Entrance. Jackie knew that he was being illogical, he just called them like no more than ten minutes ago. It wasn't like they could teleport or had super speed. So, Jackie continued his illogical impatient pacing for the next half hour. He couldn't help it. There was this feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. Hopefully, Henrik could tell him something. Speaking of which, there he is!

And was that, "Jack?"

"Hey Jackieboy," Jack greeted.

"Sshhh. Keep it down," Jackie whispered looking around. "I go by Jackson. Or some people call me Jackie."

"Oh, sorry," Jack sheepishly apologized.

"It's okay. Wait, Jack? How did you get here?" Jackie inquired.

"Do you have ninety minutes? But seriously, I have no idea. We're still trying to figure that out," Jack answered.

"Jackie? You said that Corruption was spreading?" Henrik asked getting to the topic of why they're here.

"Oh, right. Let's grab a table and some lunch. I'll explain everything," Jackie answered.

A couple of hours later, Jackie finished explaining what was going on. "And that's why I called you. Think the Corruption is spreading, Doc."

"I think you're right," Henrik confirmed. "The Corruption could be spreading to your world, Jackie. I thought I contained it but I guess not. There's a way to beat the Corruption but I'm not sure on how to apply it."

"What about the Library? You were using that for your research," Chase suggested.

"That's a good idea. I could do some more research to see how to help," Henrik agreed.

"Well, the fastest way to do that is if we take a short cut through the Art Gallery." Jackie hesitated a bit, trying to figure out how to phrase what he wanted to say next. "I was hoping Henrik, that maybe you could take a look for yourself. See what's going on with Lou and Erin. Maybe you could figure out how to combat this?"

"That is a good idea," Henrik commented.

"Alright, let's head on out guys," Jackie said sounding more confident then he felt.

===========================

(Dolphin Treasure Art Gallery)

Erin and Lou worked relentlessly at their projects. Both of them suddenly stopped what they were doing. The felt the tug on their strings and knew what it meant. Lou Huffle would get the chance to show her brand new comic and have the perfect story arch. Erin would be able to paint the perfect painting for she will have for new still life models to paint. Both of them got ready for the Ultimate Art Show.

=====================

A/N: Here are a couple of links that helped inspired this story and this chapter.

For those of you here on Tumblr that might not know. @dolphintreasureart has a YouTube Channel! Please go and check it out! It has her doing what I call speed painting and also doing Let’s Plays of various Indie Games and Fan-Made Games

Septicscape Play List: here

This is the post that helped inspire the scene with River: here

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blackrosesfanfic · 5 years

Text

Chapter 197

Trey

It's taking everything in me not to fucking snap at Cammie. She is doing too much. She should have stayed her ass in Virginia. Caden did perfectly fine on the jet. Slept the entire time. Cammie held him the entire time crying. Now she still fucking crying. It's been an hour since we dropped him off with Rollie and April. Lane was the happiness of all. He was overjoyed about Caden going to his grandma house with him. I don't know why.

"Hey. No."

"Who you talking to?" I ask Cammie.

She sigh. "I don't know. Yeah."

I snatch the phone. It's April. "Cammie stop fucking calling them."

"She called me." she whines.

"Ma."

"Tremaine, shut up. I just wanted to see if you made it to the hotel yet."

"But you know she going throu..."

April cuts me off. "I know. I know. I sent pictures. I'm trying to be as understanding as possible not to make her unwilling to do it again. Well anyway. Call me later. I'll let you call. Bye, Tweety."

Wow. Worst than fucking Cammie. I keep her phone then touch her leg. I always feel like I'm fighting with her trying to get her to be a bad mother. It doesn't make any sense. Do other people go through this? Is it just her?

"I will send you to Mama's house. You can get right back on the plane."

"I'm okay, Tremaine. I'm sorry, okay? Im trying to be focused on you right now."

I look at her. "But you acting..."

"Like I've been crying for two days and barely sleeping. I was without Lane for only hours when he was this age. So far I've had to be away from Caden so much and he was so sick at one point. It's so hard to trust anyone with my premature baby. You were forced to be away from the beginning. You can handle this better than I can. Plus he doesn't need your milk."

"My fucking silk is important."

"Silk?"

I rub her leg. "I know, Cammie."

She sighs. "I love you though."

"Do you? You don't fucking mind leaving me."

"Actually..." she says leaning her breast on me. "You leave me."

I grab her thigh. "Yeah?"

She rubs on my crest. "You do, Tremaine. All the time."

"Damn, baby, make me feel like shit."

"I already do." she says hugging me. "I always give you shit about it. That's why I want to go with you. I don't have to. I know. I could have fought you to keep my fucking kids. The police would have helped. Blogs. Social media would have been on fire. Trey Songz arrested for kidnapping his own kids after wife files for divorce."

"Did you think about all this?"

She giggles. "I just made it up."

I let it go. It sounded too good to be made up. Damn, I know how she could fuck up my whole existence. She giggling about the shit and it sounds like a fucking sure fire way to end me. Police investigation, blogs, show cancelations, the whole 9 yards. I snap out of my trance and look at her. She was getting out of the car. I exhale and step out of the car. She grabs my wrist pulling me towards the hotel.

"This is my favorite hotel." she says once we are inside.

"You being so..."

"Trey Songz!" someone yells.

Cammie takes a deep breath and walks towards the front desk. "Excuse me!"

A man steps from an open door. "Yes. Oh, hey. One second. Lauren, the special guest. Yes. Thank you."

"I can take them." Someone says from behind his. "Right this way. We will bring your bags up."

"Thanks." Cammie says.

Its a guy. He smiles really hard at Cammie. Motherfucker. He presses the elevator button then he turns to us. Nigga don't start talking. He smiles again then he ushers us into the elevator.

"It's been a while Cammie. I thought you found a new favorite hotel."

"Never." she says.

He leaves it at that. First name basis. I turn my lips up at her. She was very excited about this damn hotel. Is it really her favorite hotel? Who the hell booked her favorite hotel? Shit who even knows? I touch her side. She hugs me.

"How did you know about this? It's even the right room." she asks.

I hug her from behind so we both can go through the door at the same time. "As much as I would like to take credit for this I can't."

"I thought we were going to be in whatever hotel Cole in."

"He leasing a condo for the week. Nigga say his blood too rich for a hotel."

I walk around the room. It's like a honeymoon suite. The bed was round with a mirror on the wall. There was a dinner table in the room already set up with candles and silver plates. It is a very nice hotel room. It's hard for hotel rooms to impress me. I've been in so many top notch hotels and houses that it takes more. This room has moved up to my top spots.

"Could I get you anything?" the usher asks.

"No." I say handing him a tip.

Another staff member was putting our bags down as the other leaves. They are quick. Cammie comes up to me scaring me. She giggles then pull my torso with all of her weight. I move towards her.

"Let's get in the this tub."

"There's your tip sir." I say putting it down as Cammie pulls me away from the table.

"Thank you."

The bathroom was about the size of the actual room. The floors were made of rocks and there was a jacuzzi in the floor. Cammie was way too excited about this damn room. I kiss on her as she takes her clothes off. She pushes me as if I'm annoying her. I start kissing her hands. She pushes me again then she abandons her clothes and take mine off.

"I don't trust an already filled hot tub." I say looking behind her.

"I just filled it up."

I look at the water. "Thats not a small tub. You want me to believe it filled up in seconds?"

"You think I don't know how to critique high class shit?"

"I do think that. Hours ago you were planning on wearing the same outfit within the same week."

She giggles. "Get in the tub."

I do the opposite. "You don't fucking tell me what to do my nigga."

"No?"

"Nope."

I hear a door shut. I turn around. It's the bathroom door. I grab the friut and wine off of the bed. The bathroom door locks. I laugh. Oh so she is going to lock me out? I pick up the card that is left on the tray. Its a note from the staff to their honorary guest. Well, damn, why the hell everyone loves Cammie so much? I'm the one to ask that. I chuckle to myself. There's a second note. It was from Ma.

"That sounds about right. Jayla!"

"Fuck you."

I lean on the door. "Jay, let me in."

"Nope."

"Baby." I start singing. "Jayla let me in. I'll make it up to you. Kiss where you want me to."

The door slides open. I stand up off of the door. She stands there naked.

"Now what you say."

"Nothing." I shake my head.

She takes the glass from me. "Why did you only bring one in here?"

"Cause you don't drink."

"You don't know what I do in my spiritually happy place. This is where I went after I called you to tell you I'm pregnant. I haven't been here since we were together I don't think. Lane likes this place too. We soak in the rain tub all night. He just used to sit there like he knew this was Mommy time."

I smile at her. "How is it a rain tub?"

She steps into the water. It magically starts bubbling as a waterfall falls down into the water. I sit everything down on the table top that sat next to the tub. Something I have never seen in a hotel bath tub. I pour the wine into the glass then I get into the tub.

"This is perfect." I say.

"Isn't it?" she smiles sipping the wine.

I go over to her and start kissing her neck. It is perfect. From her to the room. A connection I feel like we never had til now. It's hard to really explain. The moment just made me feel like we got closer. Didn't think I could get anymore into her.

**********************

"Tremaine?"

"Ma."

She chuckles. "I'm surprised it was you that called me first."

I look at Cammie. "She sleep. Ma, that girl hasn't slept ever since the topic came of taking her kids. She was acting like someone was taking them for good."

"She is so sensitive. Did she like her surprise?"

"Thank you. She loves this hotel. I should fucking buy it she likes it so much. Did you know she had a whole history with this hotel?"

"Yeah, I do my research. I wasn't going to let the first outing you had in minths be shared with one of your friends."

I shake my head. "I was planning a nice night for the two of us instead of going out with Cole."

"Of course. Make her feel like she intruding instead of belonging. Now if she doesn't want to do what the two of you are doing she has her favorite spot. Tremaine, I'm thinking long term. Maybe she will do it more often."

"April, you want a fucking purple heart?"

She giggles. "I would..."

Caden starts screaming in the background. Ma moves around then Caden stops. A few seconds later he is crying again.

"What's wrong with him, Ma?"

"He is spoiled." Ma says. "He was doing fine all day. Rollie. Hm?"

Cammie touches my side. "Is that my baby crying?"

Caden stops again before I could say anything. Technically no. It's quiet for a few seconds as everyone waits to see if he is done crying. Seconds later he starts screaming again. April calls me on video. When I answer a crying Caden was in front of the phone. Rollie had him.

"Hey, Mommy's Toy Soldier. Why are you crying? You miss me?" Cammie smiles. He opens his eyes staring at her and crying. "Oh you just being fussy. Is your brother sleeping?"

"No. Lane does not sleep here." April says. "Lane!"

"Lane can make him stop crying." Cammie giggles. "I'm glad he crying."

April sucks her teeth. "Thanks for your brutal honesty."

Lane comes in the room yelling. "What you say Grandma?"

"I love when I'm grandma." she says.

"Hey, Lane." Cammie says.

He comes to the phone. "Mommy come here tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"Mommy Nanma make you Caden cry."

"Can you tell him to stop crying?"

Lane start talking really fast then he looks at the phone. I don't know what he is talking about.

"Hey, Daddy."

"What's up, Lane?"

He frowns. "Nanma make Caden cry."

"Lane, I did not make Caden cry. There is nothing wrong with him."

"Caden sleepy." Lane says.

I laugh. "Lane is an expert at this shit."

Lane starts pouting. "I don't want to go to sleep."

"Nobody making you go to sleep, Baby." April says.

"Ma, put them on the bed together. Tell Lane to go play the game that Caden likes to play on his tablet."

Lane looks at the phone. "Okay, Mommy."

"Okay, sweetie."

"Grandma!" Lane yells running. "I be back."

Caden was still crying. April gets him back then starts rocking him and the phone. Cammie lies back on the bed.

"Ma, call us back if he doesn't stop crying when Lane plays the game with him."

"Okay, Baby."

I lay on top of Cammie. She was looking sad like she wanted to cry. She is a big baby with her bucket of tears. I kiss on her back and shoulder. She turns over all the way on her stomach. With her being naked I don't know if that means leave me alone or fuck me. I take it as her invitation. I grab my dick as it swells on demand. Cammie moans then glances back at me. I slide into her. Shit still goes from 0 to 100 with us. I love that. No matter what was happening two seconds ago she can get me lost in her. I lay down on her hugging her body close to mine. She gasps letting out a soft moan.

"Tremaine."

"Huh? Say name again."

She exhale. "You say mine."

I bite on her shoulder. "Jayla. Jayla."

"Only I can hear that."

I couldn't concentrate on what the hell she meant by that. My attention was on her pussy. I reach under her and grab her forbidden tittie. She puts her hand on top of my hand. I squeeze her tittie. Everything is all under control until Cammie starts moving these money making hips. She lifts her hips off the bed. I don't stop. She starts moving them. I close my eyes tight and squeeze on her tittie.

"Say it louder." She whispers.

"You want me to yell your name?" I open my eyes.

She pushes back against me. "Yes."

I exhale. She had me in another place now. "Jayla! I'll sing it for you. J-ay-la!"

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tilltheendwilliwrite · 6 years

Text

Flames of Desire

Chapter Two

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Dad!Loki Laufeyson x OFC, Astrid Laufeyson | Word Count: 4735 Warnings: fluff, smexy, angst

If there was one thing Loki was good at, it was patience. He had eons of time to live and learn and study, so rushing to judgment was not something he did.

In that way, he sat back and watched Alexa. He watched her with his daughter. He watched her with the team. He even watched her when she was unaware he was watching.

She settled in, grew close with Stark and Banner. She intrigued the Captain and Barnes for she was completely different from any woman they'd ever known. Lang spoke her language when it came to engineering, and Wilson hit on her without mercy only to be denied. Alexa called him Birdboy, amusing Barnes to no end.

She was friendly with Wanda and Natasha, but apparently more comfortable with the men. Vision was taken with her, her talented mind fascinating to him, and though he wasn't around as often as he used to be, Clint had discovered Alexa was proficient with a bow. Something another of her relatives had taught her.

But it was Peter and Astrid she bonded with, and Loki whom she teased.

He enjoyed the nights she had them over and was almost convinced she truly meant no harm when small incidents began happening.

Nothing malicious, just… interesting.

In February when everyone began making doe eyes at each other and preparing for the love fest the humans called Valentine's Day, Alexa retreated. She became reclusive, avoiding movie and game night, and spent much time alone. Her clothing grew progressively heavier. The sweatshirts and hoodies getting thicker and baggier until they hid her frame completely. She wore sunglasses on even the cloudiest of days claiming headaches and migraines plagued her and avoided physical contact with people.

But it wasn't until the day Daniel and Maria, both from research and development, two of the people making the biggest and most disgusting display of affection toward each other, got into a full-blown screaming match that the strangest thing happened.

Alexa knew them well having worked with them for weeks and was drawn to the fight no different than the others who had turned into spectators as the couple shouted at each other. After a moment’s contemplation, she walked between them and placed her hand on each chest.

“Petty disagreements mean nothing if you love each other. You do love each other, don't you?” Alexa asked, peering at first one and then the other over the top of her glasses.

Loki was certain he was the only one who noticed when the azure of her eyes glowed pink, for within moments Daniel and Maria were clinging to each other, apologies falling from their lips as Alexa pulled her hood farther forward and slumped away.

Then, a day before Valentine's, she retreated to her room and refused to come out. She was ill, she said. A fever and chest cold. She didn't want anyone else getting sick, so she locked the door and denied everyone access.

Loki didn't believe it for a moment, especially as he’d watched her rebuke three male callers and one female when they'd expressed interest in a Valentine's date only the day before by telling them she already had plans.

That night he waited until Astrid slept before cloaking himself and shifting himself to Alexa’s room. Being of two minds, suspicious and concerned, he used the excuse of checking on her welfare as his reason for invading her privacy should he, somehow, be caught in the act.

At first, he found nothing amiss until he inhaled and the scent of wildflowers nearly knocked him to his knees. It was heady, heavenly. Sweet and rich and intoxicating. It was like a drug and filled him with desire.

But then, the quiet sound of distress hit him, and he turned toward her bedroom. He'd sworn he wouldn't invade her inner chamber, that was going too far, but hearing her cry did strange things to his heart.

What he saw through the open door did strange things to the rest of him. Alexa was changed before his eyes. He could not see her face, but the tumble of flame-bright hair which usually flowed down her spine had become the pale pink of a maiden’s first blush and the silver of a full moon’s beam. A pure white shift had replaced the black of her clothing, and she lay curled away from him on her bed, sniffling and sobbing.

He hated it. Hated whatever pain had caused her to fall into this state and was but moments away from going to her when he remembered he was not supposed to be there at all.

Instead, he sent the smallest trickle of magic toward her to her to push her tumultuous mind into dreams, then left as swiftly as he’d arrived.

He did not see her sit up and whip around to scan her room with fear now darkening her azure eyes.

***

Once Valentine's day passed, everything returned to normal. Or as normal as could be expected in a compound full of superheroes. Alexa burst forth from her room, her hair the vibrant fireball of before, her smile wide, and band shirts back on display.

She said nothing about her “cold”, but Loki could not forget. He could not forget the sound of her anguish, nor the scent of her, nor the color of her hair. Not when he’d gone back to his suite and was forced to take himself in hand and relieve the ache in his loins like a youth of a thousand years.

He chalked it up to having been without a sexual partner since before Astrid became his life and not the sudden deep-seated desire he was feeling for the fire wench.

No. Not fire wench.

For Alexa. He could no longer hold disdain for her because of her abilities with fire. He was far too intrigued by her instead. But still, he had to be sure of her motives before he let these emotions get the best of him.

A few weeks later, he was presented with his opening. It was near the end of March when he found himself tasked with an assignment. Infiltrate a suspected Hydra fundraiser, upload a virus to the second-floor laptop, and get out without getting caught.

Child’s play.

But…

He turned to face Stark and Rogers. “I wish Alexa to accompany me.”

“Pardon?” Steve blinked at him.

“Captain, you know how I hate repeating myself,” Loki huffed.

“Why?” Steve asked instead.

Loki decided to be deliberately obtuse. “I find it aggravating when people do not listen the first time.”

“No. Why do you want a partner?”

He held back his smirk. “Because I do.”

“But Natasha usually goes when you need back up. Why Alexa?”

“She is unknown in the field and will not require a Halo, so there is less chance of discovery. What little tweaking her disguise might need, I can provide.”

“You hate having a partner,” Stark muttered.

Loki rolled his eyes. “You are asking me to walk into a black tie event without an escort. It will seem suspicious if I go alone, and I cannot be worried about maintaining an illusion when I am busy elsewhere, holding my own glamor, and dealing with your confounded technology.” He no longer had an issue understanding Midgardian technology, but he refused to allow anyone to know it. Complaining was part and partial to the fun of his job.

Stark looked at the Captain and shrugged. “She’s been itching to get out of the lab. Might be a good trial run. We know Laufeyson won’t let anything happen to Astrid’s new favorite person.”

Loki huffed a snort and walked away. “I would never allow harm to come to my partner. Even if that person were you, Stark,” he quipped.

“Ha! We all know you like me,” Stark called out.

Loki waved a dismissive hand. “I will inform Alexa of her involvement.”

“I can do that,” Steve offered.

“It will be simpler if I do it. We can discuss her role in the event.” Loki walked away without further comment, trying to ignore the pounding of his heart.

As the fundraiser was in Paris, they would need to leave early and be away for a few days. He would make arrangements for Astrid to stay with Natasha while he was away. But first… Alexa.

Loki made his way through the compound outside to the shop Stark had built to house the forge Alexa had talked him into building. The woman could do amazing things with metal and flames, but Tony had gotten tired of the fire alarms going off every time she heated something to red hot. This way, she could work, Stark got his hands on the fruit of her labors, and Alexa was happily playing with fire in her forge.

At the door, Loki paused and pressed the buzzer. She tended to send fire winging through the air, and he had no desire to get burned by walking in at the wrong moment. It took a few seconds before she arrived to pull the door open. Heat billowed out past her causing Loki to flinch and cool himself substantially.

“Loki. To what do I owe the pleasure?” she asked, leaning against the door jam and crossing her arms.

As she was in the smallest tank top he’d ever seen, the action lifted her lush breasts to swell above the collar. Her azure eyes were bright, the pleasure she took in her work evident. Sweat made her skin glisten, her tattoos colorful as always. Soot and ash darkened the flesh of her arms and that of her legs, bare below the hem of the tiny shorts she had on.

He’d once questioned the sanity of that action, wearing such little clothing to work in the heat and flames. Of course, it only amounted to amusement on her part when she’d rolled a flame over her knuckles without comment.

“I am going on assignment.”

“Ah,” she hummed and walked back into her shop. “Do you want me to watch Astrid while you’re gone?”

“That would be impossible as you will be accompanying me.”

She stopped dead in her tracks. “I’m sorry, what?”

Distracted by her legs, he hummed softly before finding her watching him, her brow arched in amusement. Had he been anyone else, he would have blushed for getting caught, but Loki was not so easily rattled. “The mission requires an escort. I need, hm… what is the term Lang uses? Ah, arm candy.”

This time both brows lifted as she gaped at him in shock, and apparently, some insult. “I beg your pardon?”

Loki flicked his wrist to cool the room as he made his way closer. “Did you or did you not wish to… stretch your Avenger wings?”

“Well, yeah. But arm candy? Loki, come on!” she huffed, pulling metal hair sticks from the knot which held her wild mane off her neck and sent it tumbling down her back.

“You may be playing the part, Alexa, but it is still a SHIELD-sanctioned operation. I need assistance, and I am asking for yours.”

She blinked at him for a moment before a slow smile spread across her face. She took a step his way and shook out her hair so it swirled around in waves and curls. “So you want me to be your arm candy?”

When she stood but inches from him, Loki shrugged, reached out, and lifted a handful of her hair. “I will have to do something about this, though. It is rather,” he slowly shifted his gaze to her eyes, “memorable.”

Alexa tsked softly. “Really, frosty? You think I can’t change my own hair?” She rolled her eyes and ran hands full of flames through it. “Better?”

Dark burgundy, nearly blood red in places. It was beautiful, but it wasn’t what he was used to. Nor was it the pale blush and silver of Valentine’s day. Again he took a handful and rubbed it between his fingers. “This will do.”

She grinned and spun away, her hair returning to the flames and fire of before. “So, where are we going? What are we doing? Who are we taking out?”

“We are going to Paris.”

Her face paled. “Why?”

She seemed terrified. Loki followed her and took her by the hand, disliking the look on her face intensely. “Alexa? What is it?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. Bad memories.”

They were more than merely bad. Loki could practically feel the fear pour from her. “I can ask Natasha if you prefer to sit this one out?”

“Don’t you dare!” she snapped. “It’s fine. It’s only a city. I will be fine.”

“Alexa.” Loki tugged at her hand and pulled her toward him. “Is there something I should know before going to Paris?”

“Nothing important.”

The lie rolled smoothly off her tongue, but she didn't fool him.

“I trust you will have my back on this assignment.”

“Of course, Loki. After all, I’m just there to look pretty,” she quipped and smiled, but it was sharp, and the scent of her fire and brimstone smoldered in his nose.

Again she pulled at him like she had that fateful Valentine's night. Before he could consider his actions, he took her chin in his hand and tilted her face up to his. “I would not ask for you if I did not think you capable.” She stared up at him with her mouth slightly open. “Your brief is in your room. Learn it. I will see to the rest. Be prepared to be gone for a minimum of three days.”

Loki released her face and turned away, wondering if choosing her for this was a mistake. He’d only taken three steps when he was enveloped from behind by her arms, followed swiftly by the contact of her body against his back.

“Thank you for trusting me,” she breathed against his spine.

He closed his hands over hers, a pang of emotions he couldn’t decipher aching in his chest. “Trust is earned, Alexa,” Loki said softly before pulling her hands away and striding out the door.

She had to stop lying to him to earn it fully.

***

Alexa started out the window at the view of Paris and the Eiffel Tower in all its splendor as Loki, looking nothing like himself, tipped the bellhop and sent him on his way.

It had been a whirlwind moment since late last night when they’d quietly boarded a private plane to jet their way to France for their mission. Once on board, they’d sat to go over the plan a final time.

They would be posing as a couple, Thomas Byron and Virginia Collins. Thomas was, apparently, an alias Loki had been cultivating for years, one of old money. He did his fair share of spending and philanthropy, at least on paper, and was known as generous but reclusive. Though raised in London to an early age, he’d moved with his family to America at ten where the family had been struck by tragedy, leaving Thomas an orphan, albeit a wealthy one. He’d grown up under the tutelage of nannies and bordering schools, finishing at Eaton where he developed his love for English literature. He collected books of rare quality, paintings of eclectic tastes, and traveled extensively around the world, working with not for profit organizations in every field from medical care to clean water.

As Loki had put it, Thomas was a good man but a bit of a bore.

When he did attend an event, gala or fundraiser of this nature, it was almost always solo, or the woman on his arm - usually Natasha in disguise - had a different name and face each time. This time, however, he wanted her along, and though she still wasn’t sure just why that was, Alexa wasn’t looking a gift horse in the mouth. She’d wanted out of the lab, and now she was.

The event they were infiltrating was one raising funds for clean water programs in Africa, but really was a front for Hydra financing. The big wigs and mucky mucks could donate large sums, and no one looked too hard at their ‘charitable donation’.

However, it appeared someone had been digging into Thomas’s background with a bit too much vigor, for now, Loki was under scrutiny in his guise. Too many of these fundraisers had come with SHIELD investigations attached when he’d attended previously.

Initially, Loki had gone in as Thomas, transferred his donation electronically, and SHIELD had followed the path the money took from there. This time, with suspicion already on Thomas, they were going to go in through a backdoor on Philippe D’Amour’s server. He was the money man for Hydra as far as they could tell, but he was too slippery to have ever done anything to have him detained. The best they could hope for was a surgical strike directly at the heart of Hydra’s funds.

If they happened to find other damnable evidence against D’Amour at the same time, so much the better.

Alexa would be playing the part of current fling to the wealthy English bachelor. Virginia Collins and Thomas had met when he’d arrived at her Doctor’s Without Borders camp in Uzbekistan, and he’d followed her home to America when she’d firmly rebuffed his advances while abroad.

Once back on familiar soil, she’d finally given in and agreed to a date with the charming rake. Thomas had swept her off her feet, and at the time she’d still been on sabbatical for a few more months after her experiences abroad, he’d convinced her to travel the world with him until she grew bored. Six months later, they were still together and flying into Paris to attend this fundraiser in support of clean water for all.

Still a little shocked at the depth of their backstory, Alexa had been flicking through her new social media profile created by Friday when Loki stood and excused himself. She’d been staring in awe at the life she wasn’t living when Loki, no longer himself, returned from the back of the jet.

He’d damn near given her a heart attack for she’d thought someone else had appeared on board. A somewhat tricky feat at thirty thousand feet above the Earth and somewhere over the Atlantic.

A short crop hair of messy gold curls had replaced his long dark locks. His skin had taken on a distinctly darker tan, and the eyes of green she found so appealing had become a stunning crystal clear blue, enhanced by the blue suit and crisp white shirt he now wore.

His quip of, “Close your mouth, darling,” had her teeth clicking together.

He looked hot. Scratch that for he always looked hot, but where before he’d been dark and broodingly sexy, Astrid’s incredibly good looking papa, now he was movie star - let me sweep you off your feet and make you moan my name while I screw you in my trailer between takes - hot!

Then he’d smiled, and it was the same as always, dispelling a little of the illusion and allowing her to breathe again.

“So, should I call you Thomas or Tom?” she’d asked, getting up to take a closer look.

“Either is acceptable, though if you wish to add to the mystique of our, hmm, relationship, you could always say you save Thomas for the bedroom,” he purred.

She’d refused to acknowledge the sizzle of heat in her belly. “I may just do that… Thomas.”

“You’re new clothes await beyond. Best get used to them now.”

He’d waved her off with a chuckle, and thus she found herself in cream-colored dress pants and a cashmere sweater in eggplant purple, wearing a pair of heels so tall she’d gained three inches, bringing her forehead about even with his chin.

When the plane had landed, they’d been shown to a waiting car which had brought them to the posh Hotel Plaza Athénée on the prestigious avenue Montaigne. Thomas, ever the gentleman, had assisted her from the car, tucked her possessively into his side, and escorted her through the doors of the Hotel with such confidence, Alexa would have thought they really were a couple.

There had been no waiting in line in the lobby. The manager had welcomed Loki as if he saw the God of Mischief every day, and escorted them without preamble up to their suite.

The Royal Suite.

It was an apartment with four bedrooms and four bathrooms each equipped with a Jacuzzi and a steam room. She’d counted. The wardrobe and two separate dressing rooms were bigger than her apartment back at the compound. There was a kitchen, dining room, and two living rooms, as well as the balconies which seemed to surround the entire suite, giving them stunning views of the tree-lined street and the Eiffel Tower.

It was beautiful but ridiculous for just the two of them to occupy for what should only be three days.

She tuned back into the conversation in time to hear Loki tell Marcel, the day manager of the hotel, they would require the Signature Eiffel Suite’s terrace for a private dinner that night, with pre-drinks in Le Cave, also to remain private.

Marcel flinched before nodding. “Time, Monsieur Byron?”

“Seven for drinks, Eight for dinner. You know the menu I prefer.” Loki dismissed him with a waved hand.

“When we heard you would be arriving so early, we took the liberty of setting out breakfast for you and the lovely mademoiselle on the terrace as soon as your car arrived.” Marcel motioned toward the doors closest to Alexa who peered out onto the balcony.

“How nice,” she said softly, smiling for both the manager and Loki. “I could use a coffee.”

“Merci, Marcel. That will be all for now,” Loki said graciously.

“Monsieur.” He gave a short bow and left swiftly.

Alexa stepped out of her shoes with a heavy sigh. “I thought he’d never leave.”

“Indeed,” Loki hummed.

She reached for the handle of the terrace door only to find herself pressed bodily against the window panes, Loki wedged up against her in a rather suggestive embrace.

“Are you really so thirsty for your coffee, my little yank, or could I interest you in a tumble before breakfast,” he breathed against her cheek. “I’ve been dying to have you again since the plane… Virginia.”

Alexa was halfway between seriously turned on and flipping confused when the false name registered. “Here, Thomas? What if someone sees?”

“Come now. Did I not have you on the balcony at the Peninsula in Chicago? No one noticed then.”

His voice was sinful, wicked and sexy in her ear, doing things to her body she hadn’t know possible. Alexa wasn’t one to get lost in the drug of desire, but right now, she could feel it pulse through her body like a lick of fire.

“It was dark then, Thomas. And my dress hid much when I sat on your lap.” If he wanted to play with fire, she’d gladly singe him a little. “Maybe you should take me to the bedroom.”

He growled, and the shiver it sent through her body was not contrived. “But which one, sweet Virginia? Or should we test them all?”

His hands were running up and down her sides now, snaking beneath her sweater and climbing dangerously close to her breasts. She whimpered and sucked in a breath. “All, definitely all!” she moaned and shoved away from the doors to turn and face him.

Hot hands went to her bottom and lifted her effortlessly. She wrapped her legs around Loki's waist and arms around his neck. His blue eyes were slowly turning green, and Alexa knew it wasn’t all an act on his part. He wanted her, really wanted her.

She buried her hands in his crop of golden curls and tugged, baring his throat for her teeth which she attacked with vigor.

He snarled a sharp, “Fuck!” and slammed her back into the closest wall where he dragged her hands from his hair and pinned them above her head. Then, he ravaged her mouth. There were no other words for the vicious attack of his tongue and lips and teeth, taking and drinking and stealing the air from her lungs.

He tasted like winter. Like frost and the snowflakes she'd caught on her tongue as a child. He even smelled of it, crisp, cold air. But beneath it, around it, through it, she could smell her own smoldering desire in hot flames and the crackle of wood fire. It made her think of winter cabins, snowed in with the fire blazing, while he had her on the bearskin rug before the flames.

“Oh, god!” she cried when he broke his assault to let her breathe.

“I got them,” he panted, resting his forehead on hers.

Alexa could only blink in confusion. “What?”

“The cameras and recorders. I got them all. Sorry, it took so long.”

“Oh… oh, right.” She felt like an idiot as she released him from the tight grip of his thighs and he let go of her hands. Her feet thunked to the ground when he stepped back. "All an act."

"The cameras are now under my control, and they will see only what I want them to see, but they are likely watching the hotel as well."

"I see." Her knees wobbled but held as she brushed past him on her way toward the master suite.

“Alexa?” he called softly. “Are you alright?”

“Fine. Everything’s fine.” But she didn’t dare turn around to show him the intense red of her cheeks or the tears which threatened. “I’m going to have a bath seeing as how we're supposed to be occupied for the next hour or so. Do a girl a favor and magic her some coffee to go with her bubbles, won’t you?” Especially as he was leaving her high and dry, clearly not inclined to finish what he’d started.

“Of course,” he said quietly. “Take an hour. Then we’ll go out.”

“Out?” she called, striding into the suite the hotel considered the ‘master’.

“Shopping. It’s Paris, and we are staying in the center of the French fashion district. It is expected. Besides, Stark is paying. So we will see and be seen, and play tourist as I show my lovely guest a good time.”

“Well,” Alexa forced a smile, “if Tony’s buying, how could I say no?” She shut the door to the bathroom and leaned heavily against it.

She was so screwed. Three days with the object of her affection playing the attentive boyfriend was going to kill her. Especially knowing just what kind of dynamite resided inside that sexy as hell suit.

“Shades of Olympus… kill me now,” she whimpered and went to run a bath.

***

Loki waited only until the door shut before turning on his heels to march into another bedroom and closed the door to his own bath. He divested himself of his clothing with a thought and stepped beneath the icy spray of the shower, but it was of no avail.

Once again she’d left him hard and so fucking aroused it took no more than a dozen strokes of his hand and the scent of her fire and wildflowers burning in his nose to have him spilling his seed against the stone wall.

“Norns take me,” he hissed softly. “She will be my death.”

He wanted her with every fiber of his being, but until he figured out what it was she was hiding, what lies she kept protecting, he didn’t dare give in. He couldn’t take it if he trusted her to that extent only to find out she’d played him. He wouldn’t survive the betrayal intact, and he must be intact to comfort his daughter should Alexa prove herself a traitor.

But Flames of Valhalla he wanted her.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever get the taste of her out of his mouth. Spicy heat and soothing warmth.

She tasted like love felt.

How was that even possible?

Closing his eyes, Loki let the spray wash over him and prayed it would return the ice around his heart Alexa had begun melting months ago.

Next Chapter

#flames of desire #dad!loki #Loki Laufeyson #loki fanfiction #god of mischief #god of mischief fanfiction #avengers au

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distinctivelibrarians · 7 years

Note

Hi! I was wondering if you could write something where Ezekiel gets hyperfocused on a mission and generally stops taking care of himself to the point of sleep deprivation until Eve has to basically drag him away from his work to get some sleep. Thanks so so much!

Okay! So, first, thank you so much for this prompt! These two are one of my favorite relationships to write, so that was really fun.

Second, I am so sorry this took as long as it did, and that I ended up lying a couple times about this going up the past couple of days? I didn’t like anything I wrote for it until this one, so it took a lot longer than I thought it would. That said! I do like how it eventually came out, and I hope you do too!

(warnings: mentioned minor injury)

Ezekiel, in general, is loud. Not necessarily with yelling or anything like that - but you notice him, when he’s in a room. His presence just fills whatever space he’s in - loud and bright and full of energy. Unless he’s actively trying to hide. Eve hadn’t thought he could manage both, which is probably why it took her so long to notice anything was wrong.

It started small.

Him and Jacob came back from a case, sniping and bickering like usual, Jacob using him as a temporary crutch for what later turned out to be a sprained ankle. But, both had seemed to be in reasonably decent spirits, despite the injury and despite coming back empty handed.

Eve, of course, had pounced on the both of them as soon as Jacob had gotten back from the hospital (Jenkins’ insistence, just to double check that the swelling wasn’t hiding anything worse), asking what had happened, what was going on - they had assured her as they were leaving originally that this looked like a simple case, in and out, nothing they couldn’t handle.

Sure enough, they were still holding to that. They just needed to back up a bit is all - nothing to worry about, promise. As soon as they had a better idea what was going on - or when Jacob could reasonably walk and run again, whichever came first - they’d be right back out after whatever artifact it was that they hadn’t managed to grab the first time around. She couldn’t get much else out of them, and, since neither seemed particularly put out, she’d made the choice to trust them on it.

Jacob ended up parked in the Annex, with stacks of books around him as he settled in to research whatever it was they’d run into. Ezekiel… he was in and out. Those first couple of days, there was a fifty-fifty chance that when Eve looked up from her desk, he’d be over by Jacob, both of them talking quietly. Where he was the rest of the time, Eve couldn’t say. They didn’t have a case that needed the team, and he didn’t seem to be getting into any trouble, so she let that lie too.

Over the next couple of days, Ezekiel was out of the Annex more often than not. Despite that, Jacob’s book stacks kept changing around, despite the fact that he wasn’t allowed to actually go back to the shelves (he’d tried, that first day. Both Eve and Ezekiel had almost sat on him to keep him still and off his feet). When Ezekiel did sweep in - loud and bright, usually with a crack or a jab at Jacob that Eve resolutely did Not Laugh At (that anyone could prove anyway) - it was with more books or papers, and he’d be gone by the next time Eve looked up.

It took her two days to notice when he’d just. Stopped showing up in the Annex at all.

When she did see him again, it was in the Annex’s kitchen. She almost ran into him, and she still doesn’t know if it was because it was five in the morning and she wasn’t completely awake yet (military life may have given her an automatic inner alarm clock, didn’t mean her brain got the memo), or if he really was just that quiet that day. His feet were kicked up on the table (which she knew he only did ‘cause it drove Jenkins nuts), and his attention was on his phone, waiting for something in the microwave. Completely normal. He’d flashed her a grin, asked how Jacob was doing, and skirted back out as soon as he’d grabbed his mug from the microwave.

Eve didn’t see him again for another two days - though there were small signs, here and there. Coffee in the kitchen (sometimes, just the smell, which should’ve pinged so many alarms since she got in at six am most days, and, besides Jenkins, she was generally the first one there), Jacob’s research stack kept rotating, with more dusty tomes and stacks of notes taking the place of the original handful.

She doesn’t know why, on that third morning after she’d run into him in the kitchen, the smell of coffee just clinging there finally sent her looking. Not the ever more obscure books on Jacob’s table, filled with scraps of paper and notes already. Not Jacob asking if she’d seen Ezekiel lately. Not the almost oppressive quiet of the Annex.

It took her a good while to track him down, rummaging through an uncatalogued wing in the Ancient Empires section. He didn’t seem to notice her, and she took the moment to actually. Look.

He was still in the same clothes she’d seen him in in the kitchen, his shoulders stooped low, hair a bedraggled mess - from pushing his hands through it, apparently, as she watched him do just that - several empty mugs stacked on a bookshelf nearby. What made everything that much worse though, was when she knocked lightly on the shelf closest to her, and instead of shooting her a grin like normal or tossing some comment of his shoulder, he startled. Sharp enough to overbalance and fall into the bookshelf next to him, sending the mugs falling to the floor with a deafening shatter in the stillness around them.

He ended up blinking first at the mugs, then her, eyes big and confused, glassy in a way Eve knew all too well. It broke her heart a little bit as embarrassment slowly filtered through, and he ended up crouching down to avoid her gaze, scooping up ceramic shards with clumsy hands. He ended up flinching when she crouched down in front of him, grabbing his hands to stop him before he cut herself, and she took a deep breath to keep from snapping - she was angry, but not at him, and he didn’t deserve that right now.

“I think that’s enough for now, alright?” He blinked at her again, mouth opening after a moment to argue with her (she was well versed in various ‘pick a fight’ faces, alright), but she just shook her head and hauled him up. “Nope, come on. You need some sleep, at least.” the and we need to talk went unsaid, but from the way Ezekiel tensed in her grip, she knew he’d heard it. But, he did go with her when she pulled him away, so she was going to count that as a win.

Later. Later, she’ll learn that they’d come home empty-handed because Ezekiel had come up against a lock that didn’t work right, thanks to magic. She’ll learn that, according to Ezekiel, if Jacob hadn’t been paying more attention than he had, they both would’ve ended up as dinner for the very, very pissed off manticore guarding the artifact. She’ll learn that Jacob sprained his ankle trying to haul Ezekiel around a too slippery corner when he took a little too long to pull away from the lock to get his feet under him correctly.

But, for now. All she knows is that she left Ezekiel alone for over a week, when he clearly wasn’t okay. She could blame it on any number of things, and, now that she knew what to look for, she knew this wouldn’t happen again, but the fact that it happened at all sits like a stone in her chest. (Just another, added to the pile already there.)

She focuses on getting Ezekiel home and to bed, posting up guard on his couch, because she knows that unless he’s watched, he’s just stubborn enough to keep trying, keep going, until he actually collapses or worse.

(And focusing on him makes it that much easier to ignore just how much she’s going to have to start looking for, if she’s actually going to manage this Guardian thing. It’s only a little terrifying.)

#my writing #ff #the Librarians #Eve Baird #Ezekiel Jones #Jacob Stone #is only vaguely in it but still #does this need an injury tag?#just in case I guess #injury tw #long post #Anonymous #also I try to keep these from being definite in terms of timelines with the show #BUT I definitely wrote this one as being pretty early on?#so closer to the season 1 end of the scale if that matters

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joannalannister · 7 years

Note

Sorry if you answered this before, but how and why do you think the incest started between Jaime and Cersei?

Hi! Wow, I wrote way too much for this. I think first a timeline and some text will be useful before we get started.

266 - Jaime and Cersei are born at Casterly Rock

272 - Jaime and Cersei are taken to KL for Aerys’s Anniversary Tourney, though Cersei does not see Rhaegar there. “When she was just a little girl, her father had promised her that she would marry Rhaegar. She could not have been more than six or seven.” (This art by @bidonica is my favorite thing.)

273 - Jaime and Cersei are seven. They are discovered by Joanna’s maid. Joanna dies soon after. After the Martells arrive, Cersei sexually abuses Tyrion by twisting his penis; she physically abuses her baby brother on more than one occasion.

276 - Jaime and Cersei are 10. Tywin hosts a tourney. Maggy the Frog tells her prophecy. Cersei sees Rhaegar for the first time. Aerys refuses the Cersei/Rhaegar betrothal and he refuses Jaime as Rhaegar’s squire.

277 - At eleven, Jaime is sent to squire for Lord Sumner Crakehall.

278 - Tywin brings Cersei to court. She is 12. Cersei wept and Jaime raged.

279 - Jaime wins a squire’s melee, though where this melee took place is unclear. Possibly at the tourney held at Storm’s End?

279 or 280 - Tywin visits Casterly Rock with Cersei. Jaime visits home too. The twins are 13 or 14. Jaime dares Cersei to kiss Tyrion, which she does. Cersei laughs at Tyrion’s tumbling, until Tywin puts a stop to it.

281 - Jaime wins his spurs against the Kingswood Brotherhood. Jaime and Cersei are known to have slept together at Eel Alley. They are 15.

The text tells us about Jaime and Cersei’s childhood:

Your brother?“ Ned said. “Or your lover?”

“Both.” She did not flinch from the truth. “Since we were children together.” (Eddard, AGOT)

He could never bear to be long apart from his twin. Even as children, they would creep into each other’s beds and sleep with their arms entwined. Even in the womb. Long before his sister’s flowering or the advent of his own manhood, they had seen mares and stallions in the fields and dogs and bitches in the kennels and played at doing the same. Once their mother’s maid had caught them at it … he did not recall just what they had been doing, but whatever it was had horrified Lady Joanna. She’d sent the maid away, moved Jaime’s bedchamber to the other side of Casterly Rock, set a guard outside Cersei’s, and told them that they must never do that again or she would have no choice but to tell their lord father. They need not have feared, though. It was not long after that she died birthing Tyrion [in 273AC]. Jaime barely remembered what his mother had looked like. (Jaime, ASOS)

“I can’t remember when we first began to kiss. It was innocent at first. Until it wasn’t.” (Jaime, AFFC)

From the official WOIAF app, for Cersei Lannister:

As children, Jaime and Cersei look so similar that occasionally Cersei dons her brother’s clothing and takes lessons from the Maser-at-Arms in his stead, without anyone realizing. The two are extremely close–to the point that, even as children, they began to play at being lovers.

What I conclude from the above quotes is that Jaime and Cersei have always had a very close and intimate relationship, and it’s always been very physical. I don’t think that Jaime and Cersei lost their virginity at seven years old – they only “played at being lovers” – but they were interested in sex even at such a young age, and they wanted to imitate it, as much as their limited understanding would allow at seven. Though note that Cersei considers Jaime to have been her lover “since we were children together.”

The text doesn’t tell us exactly what Joanna’s maid caught Jaime and Cersei doing, but it was something inappropriate enough that Joanna felt it necessary to send the maid away to keep it secret. Joanna also moved Jaime’s bedroom to the other side of the Rock (a distance perhaps as great as seven leagues – basically from one side of a modern major city to another side) and she placed a guard outside Cersei’s door as a precaution. Gossip and rumors spread easily throughout Casterly Rock (see: Gregor’s crimes) and it’s hard for me to believe that Jaime’s new bedroom and the guard outside Cersei’s door occasioned no whispered comment from servants and other Lannisters. Joanna obviously felt that whatever happened between Jaime and Cersei was bad enough that it was worth the gossip. I don’t think that should be easily dismissed in a family that is so obsessed with reputation.

Also note that Joanna wanted to send one of her children to be fostered with the unnamed princess of Dorne, even though everyone agreed that Tywin would object to such a plan and Joanna would have needed to persuade him.

So basically Joanna wanted to put a continent between Jaime and Cersei, even against Tywin’s wishes. Even if you think Joanna overreacted, I don’t think Joanna’s actions and plans are the type of reaction that happens when your kids are just playing maester. (And Lannister maesters do some weird shit themselves ok.) And Joanna seems to have been ok with Jaime and Cersei "creep[ing] into each other’s beds and sleep[ing] with their arms entwined” or at least we aren’t told that she objected to it. (And btw a lot of Westerosi people sleep naked, including Lannisters like Tyrion.)

Again, I don’t think Jaime and Cersei were having penis-in-vagina sex at seven years old, but I think they were doing something … Extreme. I mean … this is the family of 77 course feasts and cloth-of-gold capes that are probably worth kingdoms. Extreme is their middle name, with Tywin’s line the most Extreme of all. I mean, we’re talking specifically about two people that, the moment they were reunited, fucked on the altar of the sept next to the body of their dead son. And we’re talking about Cersei, who, as a little girl, stuck her hand in a lion’s cage and taunted a witch and murdered her friend. Frankly, if Jaime and Cersei weren’t doing something Extreme together at seven years old, I’m gonna be Extremely disappointed in GRRM. I’ll save my Extremely Specific Headcanons about what happened between the twins when they were seven for another day, but I personally consider the events of 273 to be the forerunner of Jaime and Cersei’s sexual relationship.

I think an important thing to consider is that Cersei was already being sexualized in 272 or 273, when she was only “six or seven,” when Tywin promised her that she would be Rhaegar’s wife. Westeros is an extremely patriarchal society, and Cersei was being raised to think of herself as a man’s sexual possession. She even drew pictures of herself “with her arms wrapped tight about [Rhaegar’s] chest”. And if you wanna get Freudian, in her drawing, she was riding on Rhaegar’s dragon … isn’t my blog great, friends?

And so here you have baby Cersei being raised “to smile and sing and please”. “I was to be sold to some stranger like a horse, to be ridden whenever my new owner liked, beaten whenever he liked, and cast aside in time for a younger filly.”

Even as a child, I think Cersei understands that she must please Rhaegar, and be a good wife to him. Even now, even years and years and years later, Cersei thinks of how she would never have given Rhaegar cause to stray from her bed, how she would have given him sons, how she would have pleased him as his queen:

“If she had only married Rhaegar as the gods intended, he would never have looked twice at the wolf girl. Rhaegar would be our king today and I would be his queen, the mother of his sons. She had never forgiven Robert for killing him.”

Cersei thinks to herself how there was no “better man” than Rhaegar. And this is Tywin’s daughter we’re talking about. The Lannister children have defined themselves as Tywin’s children, and that’s shaped so much about all of them, but it’s really fucked Cersei up, arguably even more than her brothers. (We debate about whether Tyrion or Jaime will live, whether they will do heroic things in future books, etc; we’re all pretty certain Cersei will die, and will die a villain, given her strict adherence to Tywin’s philosophies. Tywin fucked Cersei up beyond hope.) “Lord Tywin’s daughter was the first through the flap”. Cersei has lived her whole life trying not to disappoint her father, to be the boldest, the bravest, the most beautiful, the best at everything.

How do you get to be the best? Why, you practice, of course.

Cersei is told at “six or seven” that she will be Rhaegar’s wife, and then (covertly, without Jaime understanding the reasons) Cersei ~researched~ how it was done by observing “mares and stallions in the fields and dogs and bitches in the kennels” and then at seven she “began to play at being lovers” with Jaime. (I believe Cersei initiated this “play”.) I think this is something very sad, very tragic.

(Plus, I’m very fond of the idea that Tywin has contributed to All The Problems by upholding Westerosi patriarchy and sexualizing a six year old girl and shoving her into the idea of marriage.)

I obviously think there’s a lot more to Jaime and Cersei’s relationship, since I ship it like FedEx (in a gouge-your-eyes-out-no-happy-endings-allowed sort of way), but that’s how I think the relationship first got … real inappropriate.

But what are some other reasons why Jaime and Cersei would embark on an incestuous relationship?

Well, like I said, they were twins, so that immediately establishes a close bond between the two of them that excludes everyone else (”everyone who isn’t us is an enemy”). I quote @inkandcayenne‘s beautiful fic like it’s canon (it is canon to me) but like

There was a time before he began to think of them as separate. In the sept she bends her head to hear his whispered joke and locks of Jaime’s hair fall over her slender neck, and when their hands entwine you cannot tell whose fingers are whose. They move in tandem, with a grace Tyrion can only imagine; at breakfast he slides a pot of jam toward her, she a pitcher of milk toward him, without either having to ask. He first learns to say their names as one, holding his arms out when they walk past his crib: up, Jaimencersei, up. Only one of them ever stops to pick him up, but he expects that. They are two halves of the same whole, one cruel and one kind, the way the moon has bright and dark faces.

The world is divided into the twins and everyone else, and everyone else must not know of it: the whispers and creakings he hears coming from her room, their flushed faces, a tangle of limbs and golden hair happened upon in a dark corridor, though it’s years before he has a word for what he sees. Nothing could seem more natural to him, yet he knows it’s a secret without knowing what a secret is. Jaime brings him lemon drops and ruffles his hair: you mustn’t tell Father. He wouldn’t even know how to describe what he saw.

If you love something you must keep it secret. It’s the first time he learns the lesson, but not the last. [x]

Cersei and Jaime have a bond between each other, it makes them think of each other as “more than brother and sister. We are one person in two bodies.” Combine their identity as twins with Tywin’s philosophy that Lannisters are “worth more” and no one else is worthy of them (Robert killed the only person who Cersei thinks might have been a worthy husband), and add in the idea that the world is divided into Lannisters and enemies, and I think it’s clear Tywin really fucked them up, long before they actually started fucking.

Also, you have to remember that Jaime and Cersei were dealing with the trauma of their mother’s death around this time, and I think they were dealing with it pretty much alone (except for, like, y’know, 777 servants).

King’s Landing had never loved Lord Tywin. He never wanted love, though. "You cannot eat love, nor buy a horse with it, nor warm your halls on a cold night,” she heard him tell Jaime once, when her brother had been no older than Tommen [Tommen is eight or nine here].

Jaime was seven when Joanna died, and after her death Tywin is like, “Fuck love, what good is it?” I don’t think Tywin offered a lot of emotional comfort to Jaime and Cersei, and I think they grew more dependent on each other emotionally after Joanna’s death.

And then I think you have Jaime and Cersei’s relationship developing as a backlash against what Cersei feels is the injustice of patriarchal institutions.

“at your birth, Jaime […] You and Cersei, pink and perfect, as alike as two peas in a pod … well, except between the legs.”

“When we were little, Jaime and I were so much alike that even our lord father could not tell us apart. Sometimes as a lark we would dress in each other’s clothes and spend a whole day each as the other. Yet even so, when Jaime was given his first sword, there was none for me. ‘What do I get?’ I remember asking. We were so much alike, I could never understand why they treated us so differently.”

��She dreamt she sat the Iron Throne, high above them all.”

“Jaime’s lot was to be glory and power, while mine was birth and moonblood.”

“A pity Lord Tywin Lannister never had a son. I could have been the heir he wanted, but I lacked the cock.”

“When he is in me, I feel … whole.” The ghost of a smile flitted over her lips.

With Jaime, Cersei can be the person she always felt like she deserved to be. She can go hang out with her dad and have Tywin treat her as his heir (“even our lord father could not tell us apart”) and, per the WOIAF app, she could take up a sword and train with the CR Master-At-Arms, and she can pretend, at least for a day, that her destiny is “glory and power” and she can feel what it’s like to be Tywin’s “most beloved child” (WOIAF app) and to ask the question, “What do I get?” and not be left empty handed.

And every other male in the world, everyone except Jaime, is going to see Cersei as someone less. What a torment for a Lannister – to be less. But it’s not like that with Jaime. Jaime sees Cersei as his twin, his mirror, his equal – “if I were a woman, I’d be Cersei.”

Like, by AFFC, Jaime is the only person left in the world for Cersei, and she hates it. She hates that no one else will treat her with the respect she deserves, that Jaime is the only one who will recognize her as a full human being. (FFS, Cersei’s own uncle let her walk naked through the city streets while she was pelted with garbage. !!!!!!!!)

And obviously the incest during Cersei’s marriage to Robert was meant to be revenge, because Robert was still obsessed with Lyanna, because Robert abused her, because Robert was a disappointment. idk, I like the idea that the incest evolved as a response to Cersei trying to conform to patriarchal institutions and eventually turned into Cersei’s way of saying “Fuck what patriarchy did to me and what it denied me.”

And I realize I’ve given a lot more reasons why Cersei benefits from an incestuous relationship than Jaime does, but this post pretty much says everything, how Jaime lives for Cersei. So “Why incest?” Because Cersei means so much to Jaime (unfortunately, a lot of that meaning that Jaime has ascribed to Cersei isn’t who she truly is)

I think Cersei gets more out of the relationship than Jaime, tho. and I think that’s on purpose, and I think that’s why in AFFC / ADWD you see Jaime doubting their relationship and they move away from each other.

I think Jaime’s just … always loved his family, and in this case he loved his family a little too much. It was something natural for Jaime. Cersei was his best friend, he enjoyed her company (“He could never bear to be long apart from his twin”), they were twins, they thought of themselves as special. So by AFFC Jaime realizes he basically has no friends.

And Jaime just … Jaime thought they were gods together, “I thought I was the Warrior and she the Maid” – who is a god to love, save another god?

(Also “keeping the bloodlines pure” I SWEAR I’M STILL WORKING ON MY LANNISTER FASCISM ESSAY, JUST GIVE ME TIME)

(Cersei was extremely jealous of Jaime’s company as children, she didn’t want other girls to even think about taking him away from her, so I think Cersei just made a point of hanging out with Jaime.)

ok I could probably talk more about the “why” part of your question, but I’m gonna wrap this up with the “how” part right now. (If I had more time, I would make charts and diagrams and shit for this post, I love Jaime and Cersei so much.)

Like I said above, I think of the discovery by the maid in 273 as a stepping stone to Jaime and Cersei’s fullblown incestuous relationship.

When Cersei and Jaime were fifteen years old:

“Is it a rock you want? Or me?”

He remembered that night [in 281AC] as if it were yesterday. They spent it in an old inn on Eel Alley, well away from watchful eyes. Cersei had come to him dressed as a simple serving wench, which somehow excited him all the more. Jaime had never seen her more passionate. Every time he went to sleep, she woke him again. By morning Casterly Rock seemed a small price to pay to be near her always. He gave his consent, and Cersei promised to do the rest. (Jaime, ASOS)

She smiled for him, so sweetly. “Do you remember the first time I came to you like this? It was some dismal inn off Weasel Alley, and I put on servant’s garb to get past Father’s guards.”

“I remember. It was Eel Alley.” She wants something of me. “Why are you here, at this hour? What would you have of me?” (Jaime, AFFC)

I don’t think this time on Eel Alley is the first time Jaime and Cersei had sex. It’s the first time Cersei dressed up like a peasant (first costumed sex!! first roleplay!! so proud of my babies!!) (but not the last time?) but “Jaime had never seen her more passionate” so he had seen her passionate before? Cersei seems like she knows what she’s doing here.

So I would put the beginning of their sexual relationship before this, although this is the first textual example we have.

Like I said earlier, Tywin sexualized Cersei at a very young age, and she was already at age 7 treating sex acts like a weapon (ie twisting Tyrion’s penis).

While for Jaime … here’s a very short list of Westerosi men and the ages at which they lost their virginity. (I put Jaime with a question mark, cuz the above is what we have documented.) I think I would put Jaime in the 13 or 14 age group, during the time when Jaime is a squire and he would be facing pressure to perform the ~~“rituals of masculinity”~~ to lose his virginity.

We know that Jaime visited Cersei at Casterly Rock when he was 13 or 14. Maybe Cersei first started menstruating at 11 or 12, and they had sex at 13. I guess one of them secretly crept into the other’s room, like they usually do?

I can see them doing a lot of experimentation / mutual masturbation that just eventually evolves into sex.

I hope that answers your questions?

…I have way too many opinions about Lannister sex lives.

#jaime x cersei #jennusdemenus #replies #cersei lannister #asoiaf #lannister thoughts #jaime lannister #idk if there are unpopular opinions here???#possibly???#lannister timeline project

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victorianimmortal · 7 years

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my recent and glorious accomplisment

@thehomosexualistagenda @browherenew @corrupted-by-aftg

Remember that game I mentioned as one of the reasons I’m partially leaving Tumblr for a bit? Here’s what I posted about it a couple weeks ago:

The plot so far seems to be based around the concept of the multiverse as it affects memories. (I know, the multiverse–and tachyons were mentioned!) We, we being all of the teams involved, are supposed to try to become lab assistants for a [fake] professor here at the college who’s studying where the “hot spots” of fermion and tachyon entanglement are.) There’s all sorts of mystery, code breaking, and espionage involved, and it’s completely taken over my life.

It’s over. In fact, we just won. And I definitely want to get this story down--here seems like the best place, especially considering it feels exactly like The Flash. Under the cut if you want to hear about it. This got pretty long—there’s a lot of story. It’s 4000 words long; I’m sorry.

Okay. We show up to this fake (just assume everything is fake from here on out) talk last Saturday night, a talk by Professor Christopher Lugo, a theoretical physics professor. The chair of the theoretical physics department, Kerry Goss, introduces him, a couple of his lab assistants such as Alex Terry, Lugo’s wife Libby, and an ambiguously named person from the Ethics Board. Also present is Professor Aileen Snaut, an ethics professor who took an interest in Lugo’s research.

At the talk, Lugo tells us about what he’s researching. Apparently, the multiverse theory is real, and our universe is occasionally colliding with another one. When this happens, particles (particularly fermions and tachyons) can pass through, become entangled, and, in a “temporal pop”, suddenly unentangle, causing changes in our universe. Areas where this is particularly prevalent are called hotspots.

“Are these hotspots dangerous at all? Have their effects on humans been measured?” Snaut asks.

“No. I don’t know. I’m fine. My lab assistants are all fine,” Lugo says.

At the end of the talk, Lugo tells anyone who might be interested in becoming one of his lab assistants to email Alex. We do so, and, at a suggestion in their response, friend them on Facebook as well. They add us to a Facebook group filled with physics memes posted by Lugo’s lab assistants.

Then things get exciting. Part one: the false emails. This was a veritable epidemic at the beginning of last week--we’d get an email that purported to be from one of Lugo’s assistants and not be able to tell whether it was real or not. Messaging the appropriate lab assistant, or checking the contact information on their Facebook pages, typically solved that problem. Our group was actually the cause of a couple fakes (we managed to eliminate a team that way, but all’s fair, right?).

Part two, the real part—Alex emails us with a bunch of pictures and says that Lugo’s wife took them. Apparently, Lugo thinks that the pictures don’t quite reflect reality, and they might be indicative of hotspots. We need to find these places on campus, take more pictures, and determine whether anything changed. Surprise, surprise--seven out of eight of the pictures have differences. We email our findings to Alex and wait for the next task.

The next task, as it happens, doesn’t come from Alex at all. Eryn Hall, another of Lugo’s assistants, posts a video on the Facebook group. She’d been waiting to meet with Lugo, as he’s her advisor, but someone barges into his office before she can. Enter Aileen Snaut. An abbreviated transcript:

“Have you heard of Aiden Murgel?” she asks.

“Sure, I read his research,” Lugo says. “He was looking into the multiverse too.”

“And he stopped publishing in 2001.”

“Your point?”

“The stuff he was looking into seemed pretty dangerous.”

“You’re an ethics professor, not a physicist—”

“I have more experience in physics than you might think.”

“Look. Something happened to Aiden Murgel. Something I wouldn’t recommend repeating.”

(direct quote) “Sure. It was the fluorine, in the water—the government, right? JFK’s on the moon with a sniper rifle, and Elvis, and Tupac, right? They’re going to Atlantis, with Aiden Murgel, right now, to see what he knows about fucking multiverse theory. Get out of my office.”

Exit Aileen Snaut. Eryn posts this video and adds “Anyone heard of this Murgel guy? He’s not on Wikipedia.” Another lab assistant, Matt, comments “I know what you’re looking for, Eryn.”

Well. We’re not going to let that pass, so we message Matt and get back this:

Murgel's a fucking weirdo. His shit makes some kinda weird code. At least, the stuff I've found so far does. I’ve solved it. I’ve read it. But I’m not gonna tell you because what have you ever done for me? You can have the puzzle, though. When you’ve solved it (if you can), go talk to the library front desk supervisor, Joe, he’s a nicer guy than I am, and probably more helpful, too. He's usually in on Tuesdays and Wednesdays from like 3-10. Better hurry, don’t know how long it will be there.

Looking to call? First, look just to the right of nothing. Next you'll need my personal favorite letter. It marks my favorite word. Or, in here, my favorite subject. Thirdly you'll need what once, twice and thrice have in common with effervesce but not with eternity. To fill slots four, five and six you will need something of a different stripe. If you take the midpoint of an election year, you'll have found it. The Penultimate is an ending. In fact, you just saw one and are about to see another. Lastly, the first perfect.

Solve that and it gets you #QC183.6, the call number for something in the library—turns out to be a folder. Inside is a 16-page paper written by Snaut, two recommendation letters written for her, and a journal entry from Aiden Murgel. Why all this is filed together, we don’t know, but we’ve been told Murgel likes codes, so…

Turns out the first letter of every sentence in his journal is a message—one that points pretty obviously to a couple of the hotspots we found with the last challenge. Specifically, a fountain next to one of the buildings. Message that to Matt and he’s an asshole and says to talk to Alex, message it to Alex and they tell us Lugo’ll be interested, email it to Lugo and he thanks us for the help, makes snide remarks about Snaut trying to sabotage his research, and says he’ll be in touch. In the interest of fully exploring our options, we email Snaut and ask why her things are filed with Murgel’s, and she says she’s uninterested in discussing Aiden Murgel further at this time.

It’s Wednesday by this point, and Lugo emails us later that night with a task: break into Snaut’s office and find out what she’s hiding. We accept, though one of us emails Snaut too and gains her reluctant approval. The time is set: 4:30 Thursday.

4:30 Thursday rolls around and our team, tense, enters the office. Then follows an hour and fifteen minutes of pure panic. There are numbers hidden all around the office, leading us to books on the shelf, but we can’t quite figure out the code, and the safe we’re certain it unlocks only allows three tries before locking for a few minutes (letting out an incessant, headache-inducing beep-beep-beep the whole time). Desperate, we email Lugo for help, and he sends Alex. They “don’t even want to know what you’re doing”, but help us figure out the code, just in time too (I’ll never forget the code: 629315). Entirely out of time, frantic to get out of there, I flip through the papers within and take pictures, gaining only bits of knowledge from each one—it’s correspondence between Snaut and another professor, Jo Haley—

They’re starting a relationship—

There’s a breakup note—

They’re becoming friends again—

But the last page…

The last page…

…is a name change form.

From Aiden Murgel to Aileen Snaut.

Okay. Okay, so she definitely does know about physics, then, and about what happened to Murgel. (For a little more context, Snaut is trans; the person playing her, I know in real life, she’s trans in real life. That’s not the surprise. But the fact that she’s Murgel…)

We email Lugo. We email Snaut. We get meetings set up with both of them on Saturday afternoon; Snaut first, Lugo second.

We meet with Snaut and it turns out there’s a bigger plot twist in store than just that she’s Murgel. Not only has she done research into this other universe and the hotspots, oh no.

She’s from that other universe.

Her mind, anyway. Turns out women in science aren’t really a thing in this other world, and she got fed up, so she used one of the hotspots and ran. Ran here. Somehow combined her mind with the mind of her counterpart here, Aiden Murgel (who still identified as male; he “didn’t know yet”), and started doing research on this end.

The hotspots, to absolutely nobody’s surprise, are dangerous. And Snaut’s crossing and Lugo’s continued research only exacerbated the problem. The collisions between the two universes (which Lugo calls Castor and Pollux, though which is which is unclear) are happening more frequently. The changes are getting larger. “If Lugo continues his research,” Snaut tells us, “it’s going to become irreversible.”

“So what do we do?”

“We have to stop his research.”

“And if we can’t?”

She hesitates. “Well, the other option might be to erase that other universe.”

We debrief at the convenient ice cream shop down the street, where I term the universes Earth-1 and Earth-2. The two people watching The Flash with me, currently halfway through season two, groan. But then we fall into a real discussion, because we’ve been trusting Snaut more than Lugo, who’s a bit of a dick, this whole time. But erasing a whole other universe? That’s… that’s bad. That’s supervillain levels of bad.

Curiously, there’s the ambiguously named person from the Ethics Board sitting outside the place we met with Snaut. Weird.

We meet with Lugo, who rolls his eyes at the idea that his research could be dangerous. He won’t stop, despite us relating Snaut’s concerns. We ask what exactly the goal of his research is, and his eyes light up.

“Temporal computing.”

We stare blankly.

“If you fire tachyons back and forth between the two universes, you can convey huge amounts of information. We can have almost infinite processing power.”

All right, fine. I’ve watched The Flash, I can accept fake science. We tell him about Snaut’s plan to destroy Earth-2.

“I do not condone mass murder. Write that down. And the only device capable of destroying the other universe is the computer in my lab. She’ll have to go through me and my lab assistants—and through you, I hope—if she wants to do that. This is a waste of time. I’ll be in touch.” He heads around the corner.

One of my friends, ever the extremist, frowns. “If she’s willing to destroy another universe, who’s to say she won’t hire an assassin to stop you?”

Lugo scoffs. As the elevator doors close: “On a professor’s salary?”

Fair point.

We don’t know who to trust, so we email everyone. Jo Haley, to notify her of Snaut’s plan. Kerry Goss, to get an email for the Ethics Board. The Ethics Board, to tell them just a bit of the complicated situation. Snaut, to ask a few more questions.

Then we receive a couple of emails from Jo. She responds to our initial email, saying that she’s certain there’s some misunderstanding about Snaut’s plan. And then, to everyone still in the game, she sends a trivia quiz for us to complete. Our team, working together over chat, solves it in a couple hours and sends her the screenshot of it completed. Time filling, that seems to be all it is. We have larger concerns.

Cut to an email late Sunday, from Goss, about a formal investigation being put on by the Ethics Board. We show up at 5:30 Monday and find that it’s not just us invited—it’s all the remaining teams. Not to mention Jo Haley, Kerry Goss, Libby Lugo, Alex Terry, Ambiguously Named Ethics Board Guy, and another lab assistant, Kira Fuller. The subject? Christopher Lugo. Who’s vanished. Along with his supercomputer.

It gets worse. Snaut isn’t the only one with some crazy plan involving Earth-1 and Earth-2. Lugo wants to merge the two universes into one. Libby’s scared and has no idea where he is. Alex insists that there’s no danger in his research and that, until they see some evidence, they’ll continue helping him. Goss has no idea what’s going on and is very upset about it. Ambiguously Named Ethics Board Guy doesn’t say a word, but they haven’t the whole game. Jo supports neither of the scientists’ plans and offhandedly suggests another alternative—move the two universes away from each other. Goss challenges us—“If anyone has any more information about what’s happening, speak up now.” No one does.

In brief bits of conversation with other teams after the hearing, it’s implied that there’s another journal of Aiden Murgel’s that we’re missing, and that there’s some map indicating another hotspot. We remain unconvinced of the reality of this, but the possibility is there.

So that’s where we land Tuesday morning—caught between Lugo’s plan to meld two universes and Snaut’s plan to destroy one. Either way, a full universe of people are going to die. In Snaut’s plan, it’s clearly Earth-2 (and a couple of probing emails prove she’s not backing down), but in Lugo’s, it’ll be a mixture. Information is preserved, Snaut has told us, so it’s probably the smarter of the two doppelgangers whose mind will end up in the resultant universe—Earth-0.

Then we get an email from Lugo. He refuses to tell us where he is, but promises to send some notes of his to decipher on Wednesday at 4:30. Every path to follow seems bad, but we can’t fall behind now. Especially because only the first four groups will get to advance.

This is our gateway into endgame. We brace ourselves.

Wednesday, 4:30. The email arrives. It’s gibberish, plain and simple, with repeated words and phrases and none of it really seems to mean anything. Of course, there are three gifs: Shakespeare writing, a blue light swooping around in an infinity symbol, and a bunch of quick-running clocks.

It takes an embarrassing amount of time to realize the connection: the infinite monkey theorem. It’s Thursday, and we’re off to the comic store. There, on a display case, we find a QR code. It links to a website with the prompt “A name of an author from the last clue” and a blank text box. Enter Shakespeare, and we’re rewarded with two images. They look like steps of a dance, and are labeled “Go dance Shutesbury Reel by David Kaynor, then walk it out.” Beneath each step of the dance are w, a, s, or d—except two of them, which have “ment” and “base” in that order. Basement, all right, and the wasd must be directions of some sort. We start poking around basements, not fully following the directions (what do we count by? Buildings? Street corners?) and eventually return empty-handed to our dorm.

On the dorm bulletin board, though, there’s another QR code. This one links to a different question-and-answer setup from the same website, asking only “The answer to the previous puzzle (one word, no punctuation)”. That’s too vague—clearly they want us solving these in order. Still, it means we might be able to find all the codes just by exploring campus. We set off on a grand adventure to check out the most obvious places: the library, the student union building, etc. Nothing found, we return to various dorms and continue to think.

Then, one of us discovers that the website these QR codes are hosted on? There’s a directory. It’s got all the questions and all the images, though there seem to be some red herrings in there; some of the puzzles are repeated in slightly different ways. Both can’t be real. Most likely, an attempt to keep us from doing what we just did.

Still, we get to work on all the easily discernible puzzles. Random guessing at the question seeming to come from the dance code, asking “what are the northernmost and easternmost streets you walked on”, gets us a logic puzzle asking about birds, locations, and activities.

By the time we receive it, another of us has already solved it via the pictures. Plug in the answer “Pelicans plotz in the pergola” and we see a crossword—also already solved.

The next question asks for a few of the crossword answers, and gives us a dice code with the clue H=(2)(6). Turns out, each blank die is a break between letters, and the sum of the dice in between the blanks corresponds to a letter, the standard 1-26. That actually yields an obvious location, a certain statue on campus.

Go there, and there’s a QR code and the keyword amaranth. Two questions are asked: “Read down the column of the previous clue”, and “Your favorite color”. Down the column of the dice clue is “khek”, and our favorite color, well, who cares what it was before—now, it’s amaranth.

The next puzzle has a large grid, with only a few blocks shaded in: a few forming a rectangle in blue near the left, and a single block closer to the bottom in red. Along the top and left side are lists of numbers, everything from 0 to 1,4 to 1,1,1,2,5,1 to 17. Weird. We stare at it for a while and then one of us, doing some googling, realizes it’s a nonogram; the numbers correspond to chains of filled-in blocks in that row or column. Plug it into a nonogram solver and it yields something that looks awfully familiar—a map of North Quad. The red indicates the statue where we found the last clue and the blue is a dorm.

Unfortunately, we explore that building thoroughly and there’s nothing there. We’re certain we’re right, so we email Lugo and all go to bed.

Next morning, Friday, there’s a reply, something vague about “probabilistic interference last night”. We snicker. That’d be gamerunner code for “someone took it down we’ll replace it right away.” We’d know—we took down a few QR codes ourselves. Still, we revisit the dorm and find a QR code right away. It asks for the keyword in the previous URL, and we enter “amaranth” again.

This is it. It has a picture of a fireplace, something in one of the academic buildings, and the instructions, “The machine is calibrated, and in the location above. Contact me with the keyword ‘topiary’ to arrange a time on Saturday to turn it on.”

We do so, also informing everyone else we’ve been in contact with during the game—Snaut, Libby, Alex, Jo. Lugo agrees to 3 pm Saturday. Snaut doesn’t reply. Neither does Libby. Alex says only that they’ll be there. Jo says she’s working on a plan and asks if we have any ideas.

Well.

My Flash fanfic-writing soul isn’t about to let that opportunity pass. With way too much time until Saturday at 3, I start thinking, and eventually email her back with a complex but airtight plan—assuming, that is, that we trust Earth-2 people not to destroy our universe when they realize they’re in danger. She points this out, and adds that, because Snaut’s move from Earth-2 to Earth-1 exacerbated the collisions, maybe sending something to Earth-2 would fix it.

“I just don’t know how we could do this or what we would send…” she says.

Unable to resist, I email back, “The question might not be what we send, but who…” and then immediately backtrack as though I was joking.

We show up. Friday. 4 pm—I know, I know. We got a call at 2:30, a real one from a gamerunner, requesting that we push the time back an hour. A few frantic texts and we agree.

Friday. 4 pm. We find Jo waiting outside on the steps, and eventually Alex joins us, letting us into the building. Lugo’s in there with some crazy machine, mostly constructed of wood and wires, with a desktop and keyboard sitting atop it, not to mention some weirdly colored chemicals.

He starts yelling at us not to touch anything, and something about how we have to be careful what we do around the machine to keep things from aligning wrong as the universes merge. Mostly this means we aren’t allowed access to phones, and instruction sheets for how to finish the calibrations, written by the poor, overworked Alex, have to be kept on the balcony above the main floor.

That said, we have limited time and we have to start the calibrations. Two of us run up to get the instructions and start shouting down at the others. One: line up the colored chemicals in a certain order. It’s just after we finish when Aileen bursts into the room and starts shouting at all of us to stop.

We don’t have time for that. Jo (after advising us to read all the way through the instructions) goes to talk to Aileen, Aileen tries confronting Lugo, something weird happens and Lugo’s hand seems to be experiencing the other universe? We have to keep going, though.

Ambiguously Named Ethics Board Guy, of course, says nothing.

We read all the way through the instructions and turns out Alex had an idea on the last page. They suggest that, if half of the steps for calibration are right, i.e., aligned to merge the two universes, and the other half are wrong in a very particular way, i.e., set to destroy Earth-2, maybe—maybe the two universes will be pushed parallel to each other. It might solve the problem.

Okay. Okay, but that still means we have to solve all the problems. They’re all puzzles, and it’ll take coordination. We start working to set up a grid of tiles. Getting them lined up correctly, when the instructions and the grid are a full floor apart, isn’t the easiest job in the world. Eventually, we get it done. The next step is a logic puzzle, one that’ll be far easier to solve by one person than by shouting. I tell everyone else to get to work on the next step, a cipher, while I puzzle out the logic. We reconvene once that’s done and keep working.

We have four of seven puzzles right now, one of which, according to the instructions, doesn’t actually have a ‘destroy’ setting. Time to get some things wrong.

There’s a Mandela effect challenge, and we struggle to remember what things actually look like in our universe. Easy enough—I nearly wrote a novel about the Mandela effect once.

Then come the hard two. Certain objects need to be set on a grid, and we have to decode a cipher whose keyword we can’t quite figure out. Time is running out—and then everything goes to hell.

Lugo and Aileen burst back into the room and yell at us to stop. Those of us on the balcony clatter down the stairs and we gather on the floor.

“What did you decide?” Jo asks.

We explain—“We’re doing half right and half wrong, it should push the universes apart, according to Alex, but we’re not done—”

“Okay.” Jo, pushing Lugo out of the way, enters the correct code on the machine, which immediately demands more information. She turns to me. “Remember what you said in your last email to me?”

It takes me a moment to remember, but I do. “You said—you said that pushing the universes apart might take an information transfer from here to there, but you didn’t know what. I said it might not be what… it might be who.”

My intrepid team member immediately volunteers, but Aileen (to whom all attention has already turned) shakes her head.

“…I came over to begin with. It started this whole thing. I have to go back.”

Jo, who clearly, clearly knows that there isn’t another option, nevertheless protests. “You can’t.”

“I have to.”

They’ve drifted toward each other; they clasp hands.

“Over there,” Jo says. “You have to find me. The other me. You have to find me and make me fall in love with you.”

Lugo complains in the background. Ambiguously Named Ethics Board Guy hovers ominously.

Aileen goes to the machine, grips the wire, screams, and falls to the ground. Jo scrambles to her side, sobbing.

A beat.

Then Aileen moves, turns over, looks confused and pushes away from Jo. “What…what’s happening?”

“Aileen…” Jo murmurs.

“Who’s Aileen? My name is Aiden Murgel.”

“Of course it is,” we whisper to each other.

Murgel stands and leaves.

“All that grant money, and all I have to show for it is a machine that goes swoosh?” Lugo demands.

Swoosh goes the machine.

Alex is freaking out in a corner somewhere.

Jo is still crying on the floor.

Ambiguously Named Ethics Board Guy crouches next to Jo and hands her a business card.

“Keep in touch,” they say.

#college life #i am such a nerd #and i had a GREAT time #long post

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mvsicbookfrxndom · 7 years

Photo

OKAY, LISTEN UP, EVERYONE, 'CAUSE I HAVE THE BEST MOTHERFLIPPING STORY EVER TO TELL YOU!!!

Here's a mental image to paint in your mind:

A socially impaired, lonely teenage girl is hiding in the bedroom she shares with her younger sister from her parents, reading fanfiction on a device she isn't supposed to be using because she's a rule-breaking savage. It's spring break, which should be really fun and awesome, but it isn't because her home life isn't really all that great. Which is why she's hiding in the bedroom she shares with her younger sister from her parents.

She isn't just reading any old fanfiction, either. She's reading Monsieur George deValier's Hetalia: Axis Powers fanfics. They transport her to a world of ubiquitously inclusive homonormativity and give her hope that true love always wins in the end, because its love. No matter what gender anyone happens to love.

Her parents would pass out if they knew what kind of scandalous stories her eyes gobble up while they converse suspiciously about whether or not their rogue daughter is slitting her wrists upstairs.

Which she isn't. She's doing something almost more painful - imagining what it would be like to come out of the closet. To openly admit to the whole world that she isn't monosexual - in fact, she's the furthest thing from it. To have more accepting parents, to have more accepting people around her in general. To not be judged, to be safe in her home instead of being cast out, abandoned. To find her one true love and be devoted forever, whatever gender they might identify as, because that couldn't matter less to her.

George deValier's works have brought to her life a new dimension she never imagined she'd discover. She wishes she could meet him - who knows if he's even a man at all? - and hug him. Tell him he's changed her life forever. Thank him for existing. If only anyone knew who he was so this could happen.

TL;DR: I love George deValier more than my own family.

There's my "setting the scene" portion of this post. Now here comes the crazy story portion!

So I'm reading Auf Wiedersehen, Sweetheart, the first deValier work my eyes have ever had the blessing of experiencing, and there are no words - in any of the multiple languages I am fluent in - for how much it's affected me (not even French, the most romantic language on earth).

I've probably read half of the works on fanfiction.net and AO3 combined, but nothing has come even close to this. At all. The writing is sublime, the plots intricate beyond belief, and the character development positively shocking in its detail. The dedication and talent spent on this is almost scary to think about, not to mention the research that must have taken years to complete, so the stories could be as historically accurate as humanly possible. What's the point in writing fanfiction if this is what you're up against? I'm close to giving up one of my favorite things to do in the whole world because of how shook I am, but if this is how I go down, I'll be going down happy.

Though I've been reading for hours, I've only reached chapter 5, since my eyes have been taking their time to lasciviously devour every letter and fully grasp the meaning of each delicious sentence before allowing further conquest. However, I am no less enamored by the magnificent, captivating story than when I just started it at what seems like a lifetime ago.

As I near the end of ch.5, I almost screech out loud when I read the conversation between Feli and Ludwig about the latter's fighter aircraft Greta. About a quarter of the reason why is because Ludwig just confessed that there is no special girl of his, and my angsty soul is ripping me apart because I need one of them to confess their love for the other RIGHT NOW OR ELSE I'LL DIE.

The rest of the reason is because of who appeared in my mind when I read this scene. The worst person on the planet to think about when you're reading a homoerotic fanfiction is your female ELA teacher, but that's what happened, but not for the reasons you're undoubtedly assuming.

You see, my ELA teacher's name is Mrs. Schmit.

I lose my utter shit. I'm going insane, absolutely bonkers, over the fact that my freakin' ELA teacher's name is in this book, discounting the extra T. Of all the places to find her name, of all the things to remind me of her...

So I come up with the most bloody brilliant idea in the history of the world. I screenshot this section of the book, taking way longer than needed so I can be positive there's no evidence of two men lying next to each other in a field of flowers and tall grass having a "no homo, I'm just wondering, I'm not interested in you at all" chat about their lack of girlfriends to each other by making the font super big and swiping the page up so the dropdowns can conceal Feli's obviously masculine name. By the time I'm done working my magic, the conversation is cutesy and innocent, and, most importantly, there's no mention of anything scandalous. All that's left of the passage is the Greta Schmitt joke, which I consider adorable, clever, and laugh-out-loud funny. At the very least, it's mildly amusing.

Then I send her a picture attachment with the screenshot, along with this exact message, through my school email:

"Hi, Mrs. Schmit!

"I really hope you are having a fantastic spring break so far!

"I'm just sending you this email because I was reading a story and a little part of it brought you to mind immediately (for reasons that will become obvious if you look at the file I attached). This scene was also funny, so I thought it would be something interesting to send you. Maybe it will be a source of amusement for you during this leisurely time off from school.

"Have a great rest of your break, and see you on Monday!"

And then, of course, I sign off the email with my name.

The file I attach to the email is the original screenshot I took. The picture I've attached to this post is a screenshot of that screenshot as it appeared to my teacher. It's pretty meta and rad since I screenshot-ed the screenshot at the same time of the original screenshot one day later.

They're also the same except in the picture in this post, which is the latter picture, the portrait orientation lock is on and in the bottom left hand corner the previous page arrow isn't glowing. I feel the need to point these discrepancies out because they wreak havoc on my perfectionist OCD and if they are destroying you inside as well, I want you to know that I'm aware of these mistakes and I'm incredibly sorry.

On a lighter, less soul-crushing note, what about proposing a fun drinking game? Throw back some liquid every time the word "screenshot" appears in the paragraph before the one above. You'll be sloshed by the third sentence.

Oh yeah - and if you were wondering why my phone says 1:17 WD instead of AM or PM, that's because my device's preferred language is Oromoo. WD is ante meridiem - AM.

At first I hesitate to send the email immediately, because of the indecent time of day it is - i.e. not daytime at all - and the fear that I'll really piss off Mrs. Schmit by sending her a completely unnecessary email at 2 in the morning in a week when she shouldn't bother dealing with anything having to do with her students. It's break, after all.

And if there's one thing I don't want, it's Mrs. Schmit to be annoyed by me. Even though she's very intimidating and I can't help but be extremely scared of her, she's an absolutely fantastic teacher (though I don't think she'd believe me if I told her so) and I like her a lot as a person. Thus, I don't want her deductions on me to be negative, especially since I'm pretty sure she finds me very book smart with good grades, but flighty and scatterbrained (which I am, but not in a cool way). If this rather risky email backfires, it won't improve her opinion of me at all.

Another possibility also occurs to me - what if she finds out what kind of story the picture is from? Or the story itself? It wouldn't be hard at all; it would take me two milliseconds to locate that story. I could be in deep shit, but... In that moment, it doesn't matter to me. I'd probably laugh my ass off. She'd die of shock. It would be hilarious.

To be completely honest, I don't even enjoy the story more because of the gayness, or the lust, or the sex. Meaning, it seems more taboo that a presumably straight girl is reading a mildly erotic gay fanfiction as opposed to a straight one, presumably to get a sexual high from all the possibilities and fantasies manufactured by manipulated attraction, but for me that isn't it at all. The sex isn't even a bonus. I don't mind it, but it isn't the reason I love the story so much. If anyone saw me reading it, that's what they'd automatically think, but I'm not drawn to that. I'm asexual anyway, so I'm not even planning to ever have sex. It just doesn't have that allure or even stigma for me. An example: I occasionally watch porn, but it doesn't turn me on in the least, contrary to what one might assume. I just find it fascinating and laughable, not to mention disgusting and more proof of the downfall of humanity.

When I read books like George's, I adore them because of the writing prowess and talent. The plot twists. The characters. The worldbuilding. That's the shit I'm obsessed with. Not the literary porn in the least! Although it does provide amusement and intrigue.

I feel like I should just clear that up. I wish the story was more... ahem... appropriate, or my motivations for consuming it more ubiquitous, so I wouldn't have to worry about sending an appropriate snippet of it to my teacher, but it's George motherflippin' deValier, so nothing else needs to be said. It's perfect. (Just like you, dear beloved darling reading this!) No further explanation needed.

Also, I'm fairly certain her curiosity wouldn't be piqued enough to actually track the story from my email down, which is a comforting thought. Then again, every time I'm left alone with my thoughts, they conjure up an image of Mrs. Schmit sitting at a computer in a dark room, the artificial blue light illuminating her face as if she's some deep web underground black market Anonymous hacker, Googling the transcript of the fated snapshot, her green eyes widening as she begins reading.

I fucking hate my brain. It hates me too.

So before I can change my mind, I hit send and continue through the glorious Auf Wiedersehen, Sweetheart, a devilish, Alfred F. Jones-type smile spreading across my face. There's no going back now. It is done.

Exceeding my highest expectations regarding a response, I don't even need to wait a full 24 hours before my unread emails total increases by one.

To anyone who's gotten the far, it's been an unjustly long post in the making. The moment you've all been waiting for with an anticipation that rivals that of a beat drop in a particularly lit dubstep track. Don't get too excited, though, because I have this frustrating habit of letting people down and I have a feeling this is no exception. You know, since you're all the way down here, you deserve a treat. What'll it be? Tea and biscuits? Nachos? Poutine? It's up to you. Ask and you shalt receive. I am your humble servant, friends.

Here is her response to my groundbreaking, world-changing email:

"Hi __{my_name}__,

"Yes, that was cute and made me smile!!! I hope your Spring Break is going well.

"Thank you,

" "Messerschmitt" "

DID YOU SEE THAT, GUYS???

SHE PUT THREE EXCLAMATION POINTS AND SIGNED OFF AS "MESSERSCHMITT".

I HAVE WON LIFE! I'VE SUCCEEDED! I AM A CHAMPION!!!

Mon Dieu, she liked the deValier excerpt. She made a fucking reference to it. She's got to be my favorite teacher now.

Don't know how to end this, so I guess...

...y'all, we need to start an international manhunt for our Lord and Savior George deValier. If we find him I can do all the things I said I would. If I get cancer, that's what I'll ask Make-A-Wish.

HIS STORIES NEED TO BE MOVIES I SWEAR TO HIMA-PAPA OR ELSE...

ok I'm done now

#hetalia #fanfics #anime #original post

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chaoticblades · 7 years

Text

Wing Meta: Kalas

Now that the holidays (and extended family interactions =____=) are over, let’s talk about our favorite fuckup! :D

I think this one has even more spoilers than the Xelha post.

Wing Meta: Xelha

Wing Meta: Savyna and Lyude

So, good ol’ カラス. There’s little point in speculating about the inspiration for his wings (since the game is very, very clear on the raven theme), buuuut I’m gonna do it anyway ‘cause that’s just the kinda guy I am.

Well, that and the fact that they’re no ordinary corvid wings. They’ve got a distinctive hook off the wrist, which is most likely an unusually pronounced alula (aka bird thumb), meaning that what we’re looking at is exposed bone. Spooky! (Also appropriate, given the whole carrion bird/harbinger of apocalypse thing.)

Fun fact! According to Wikipedia, “alula” translates to “winglet”! And it’s also called a “bastard wing”. And Kalas has no parents, so....

Anyway, his wing is otherwise a fairly standard shape for that family... except for the pronounced secondaries. Alas, I’m not actually a bird person so I won’t speculate further about that (so as to spare myself any more hours of futile corvid research. The winglet diagram comes in real handy here, since it’s basically a mirrored skeleton of his other wing). Finally, he’s got falcon-like stripes on his pinions resulting in a mix of browns and greys.

Even expanding into other corvid species, I could’t find any that truly matched these details.

In any case, onto symbolism!

Ravens are consistently depicted across cultures as tricksters and omens of misfortune and death, though the latter is isn’t nearly as universal.

Trickster Ravens

Corvids in general are considered highly intelligent birds, an attribute that they mainly use for theft. For example, they’ve been known to yank the tails of other birds/animals in order to distract them from a tasty, tasty meal. Magpies in particular have such a rep for stealing End Magnus shinies that they’ve become synonymous with the act in much the same way as we use “packrat” to describe a hoarder and “chicken” a coward.

Ravens As Omens

In Greek tradition, a white raven was Apollo’s messenger. Ravens are more relevant in terms of the practice of augury, a form of divination in which certain birds are observed for signs of favor/displeasure of the gods. Ravens (and crows) fall under the label of “oscines”, or birds whose omens are determined based upon their calls. They aren’t regarded as being inherently unlucky (that dubious honor goes to the owl).

According to Wikipedia (citation desperately longed for), in Serbian folklore ravens “appear in pairs and play the role of harbingers of tragic news... in combination with female characters as receivers of the news”.

Unlike black cats, there’s an emphasis on ravens as a sign of misfortune to come rather than an embodiment of it. Similarly, they don’t directly symbolize death; instead they’re merely associated with it, much in the way one might associate the fall colors with the coming winter.

Ravens in Japanese Folklore

I went through many layers of questionable research to get this info, so it damn well better be accurate.

Yatagarasu, the 3-legged crow, was a guide sent by Amaterasu to Emperor Jimmu in order to guide his lost ass to his future seat of power.

Seen here: Yatagarasu and Jimmy’s lost ass (left).

After Google Fu’ing for awhile to figure out the meaning behind a sentence found word-for-word and lacking citation in nearly every article on Yatagarasu, I finally managed to track down an additional piece of lore: he is apparently an incarnation of Kamo Taketsunumi no Mikoto, god of good fortune and founder of the Kamo clan (???? Maybe??? All those articles weren’t kidding when they said the legends of Yatagarasu are contradictory).

Color Symbolism

This is, of course, something the varies from culture to culture. The relevant symbols here are black and white.

Black

West

death/void

authority

evil

mystery

Japan

evil

bad luck (take this with a grain of salt--I don’t trust my sources on this)

White

West

purity

peace

holiness

sterility

Japan

death

mourning

simplicity/purity

Interpretation

Kalas and Fate

So how does this shape how we can interpret Kalas?

It’s best to start with how he got the name in the first place.

Hearing you were not the perfect being [Geldoblame] had envisioned, he called you an ill omen, a cursed premonition of things to come. He named you Kalas, which means Raven in a long-lost language.

Larikush, on the origin of Kalas’ name

I guess it was the reason for my existence, and my hatred.... Something I just couldn’t get rid of.

Kalas, on why his name was the only thing he remembered after Alfard

And, of course, straight from Emperor Gelnochill himself:

I found you Kalas, you sickly raven!!!

Geldohead, triple exclamation his

I find Kalas’ comment the most interesting, since it’s an explicit reference to the theme of destiny yes I said it that is woven into the Baten Kaitos as a whole. One of the things I really like about this series is the interplay between fate and choice--many characters have fated roles (Kalas, Xelha, Melodia, Mizuti, Sagi, Guillo, people touched by the Dark Brethren in general) but even as they fulfill them, the narrative never treats it as if free will is antonymous with these events.

Dr. Georg’s experiments were aimed at creating a Magnus of Life. This would be the exact opposite of the End Magnus, which are symbols of death and destruction... Kalas and Malepercio may have been destined to fight one another....Kalas could be said to be a bad omen for Malpercio, a harbinger of the god’s demise

Lyude, on something that’s really sad once you’ve played Origins

Love and hatred... Melodia[sic], and Kalas... She is Malpercio’s curse to the world, Kalas must be his prayer...

Xelha, ditto

“Fate” is largely played as being somewhere between divine intervention and the consequences of choice (e.g. Malpercio seeking power from the Dark Brethren put everything in motion), hence why the Magnus of Life could and did choose not to oppose Malpercio at first. It makes for an interesting hierarchy of power, like an arch.

The Dark Brethren can be considered the keystone and Malpercio the arch itself--it is by their power that Malpercio is what it is, their locking the gods into position that keeps them from acting of their own will. Melodia and Kalas are outside forces, bound to--but unfettered by--the conflict between master and unwilling servant. Despite their role as pawns, they’re the ones with the most power. Influence can be asserted over them, but in the end it’s their hands that decide if the keystone is restored or removed.

Kalas’ identity as the ominous raven is the perfect example of this theme at play. He’s repeatedly acknowledged as an entity of misfortune, but ultimately it’s his will that decides whose. He’s no passive auspice--bad things may happen to those around him, but only by way of his own agency (and the of others. Looking at you, Geldoblameworthy-for-his-own-problems). Even at the very end, when Melodia chooses to surrender to fate, it’s he who rescues her and tells Malpercio to rest.

He and Melodia can be considered the pair of ravens, Xelha the receiver, as per her witnessing them discuss their plans in Moonguile.

Kalas the Trickster

Kalas is possibly the most wily protagonist who isn’t straight up a villain I have ever seen. Street smart, people smart, and a fantastic actor, he’s able to pull the wool over the eyes of basically anyone who isn’t already aware of what he’s trying to do. It can be surmised that he’s also gifted at sleight of hand, given that no one noticed him slip an ever-glowing magnus to the ducal heir of Mira.

The entire first half of the game is an elaborate trick on the Guardian Spirit and Malpercio, fooling them about their memories and using them as a buffer against Malpercio’s power (though one has to wonder if that wasn’t just a trick on Melodia’s part, as Kalas was already exposed to that power. It would absolutely be in character for him to nope out of the picture if he thought that coming in contact would turn him into a boob monster).

As is common in the trickster archetype, he rarely relies on brute force to achieve his goals, to the point that one of the major character shifts in the late game is him swearing to take down Malpercio. Giacomo is his other blind spot, his mere appearance sending Kalas into an otherwise unseen rage. It’s easy to overlook that these are the exceptions, given how prominent they are (and how they launch you into one of the more dreaded fights in the game).

However, when it comes down to it, most of his work is done so quietly, it becomes a major reason to replay, just to see if you can catch him. Right from the get-go, he uses Xelha’s reference to Moonguile as an excuse to head on in. When she gets mad at him for looting, he restructures his argument to appeal to emotionalism and lets her believe what she wants. And while he initially resists joining up with her, he has no problem travelling together for convenience sake (and later, presumably, to stay close to the Earth Pendant and Chaotic Trio). Then there’s his efforts to direct suspicion onto Lyude. Despite coming across as the brashest member of the party, he frequently hides behind the others in this manner.

Yatagarasu

This section won’t be as carefully constructed as the others, but I believe the allusion is intentional. For the purpose of this argument, I’m going to have Kalas’ 3 arms--his arm arms/winglets and his natural wing--stand in place of Yatagarasu’s 3 legs. (Alternatively, one could count his original wing and the white wings, but I’m not going to for reasons to be indicted.)

Xelha takes the part of Jimmu, the royal wanderer. It was, after all, her dream of Kalas that was the inciting incident for her entire part in the story, returning him to the role of omen. It lead her to send out the witches, spy on Geldoblame, and bring Kalas along even knowing his intentions. In times of uncertainty throughout the story, she turns to her desire to save him as a source of strength and guidance.

Kalas: Black and White

Melodia refers to him both as “dark-winged stranger” and “white-winged darkness”. Kalas’ treatment in the narrative is interesting regarding the idea of purity. His lack of a second wing leads to him being ostracized by everyone from Geldoblame to some Miran randos. Larikush links the single wing to Kalas being “excessively human” and Balancoir Asshole #2′s “Malformed wings are the direct result of a malformed heart. His soul must have been tainted at birth”.

Of course, once he’s touched by Malpercio, he gains a (literally) shiny new pair of wings. This is also the point where he goes from morally distraught antihero to unrepentant mwahaha’er, only changing back when he makes the choice to rip out his additional wing.

The color symbolism is a little hard to decipher here, given that it’s an Eastern game but Kalas’ design is more West-inspired than just about any other character. From a Western perspective, it’s a fairly clear-cut juxtaposition of contrary symbols--his dark wings initially foreshadow his betrayal but ultimately are associated with his good side while the white represent the acceptance he seeks but are tainted by evil.

Kalas is the fallen angel, right down to Xelha being drawn to him like a moth to flame. I could probably make a whole section on Kalas being a croc-wearing anime Lucifer but I’m kinda really uncomfy with the Church, so I’d rather save myself that stretch.

In Japan it gets more complicated, assuming that that info regarding black’s symbolism is accurate. Because while the white of death is suitable for the dark harbinger, black isn’t terribly befitting of the Divine Child. It’s possible it’s a reference to the fact that Kalas wasn’t originally the Divine Child but *shrug*

Uh, so yeah. There’s plenty more I could say but this is already too long ^^;

#baten kaitos #kalas

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astrologista · 7 years

Text

Acceptable Losses

for @starspatter

“Imagine Bruce confronting Clark over his son's death though... And Clark being so far gone at this point that he's all "sacrifices must be made for peace" and Bruce being like "You really have gone insane" and storms out.”

---

((( This ficlet references events from the Justice League episodes “A Better World Pt 1 and 2″ and the Batman Beyond 2.0 issues 17-24, and the Justice League Beyond 2.0 issues 17-24. If you haven’t seen/read them, the Justice Lords AU may not make sense to you... I guess... sorry ‘bout it :^) )))

---

A day after Wally was taken from them, Bruce had started work on what he was tentatively calling the “bat-bunker”.

It existed miles below the Cave, accessible by elevator only, in a natural cavern that had sat barren since he first began this mad game of cops and robbers.

The bunker was outfitted with sensors, with cameras, a complex ventilation system that promised fresh air for many years (none too simple to design), fresh water from an underground spring, and everything else needed to sustain life, for years, as necessary. It also happened to contain several of Tim’s favorite video game consoles, stores of shelf-stable snacks and canned food, stacks of comic books and a cabinet full of DVDs (mostly superhero movies). It was designed to be nothing less than a gilded cage for a bird. A place where his child would be totally safe from the traumas the world had yet to endure.

Wally West had been too young to die. Bruce wouldn’t see it happen to Tim. He’d lock him away and throw away the key first, no matter the misery or frustration it caused. Tim would thank him someday.

The plan, while well-intentioned (he thinks), never comes to pass. Lord Batman needs his soldiers, he needs everyone he can muster - and his family, most of all. The bat-bunker sits forever dormant, another awkward symbol of care that it’s better Tim never sees.

---

“We’re fighting a new kind of war, Tim.”

The new suit is safer, in some ways. The reinforced cowl (there will be no bullets in the brain), the bandoliers crossed over the chest (there will be no shrapnel in the heart), nominally treated against the worst effects of heat vision (not completely heatproof, but what else can he do against five-thousand-degree alien heat vision?). Multiple tracers, hidden in the lining, woven into the cloth. Every feature seems to be motivated by a fear, a worry - there’s love, there, too. Bruce had input into every Robin costume yet devised - but this was the first he had designed without input from a cheerful child, instead crafting it to his whims and catering to his neuroses in the process.

Bruce hands him the costume with an expression that brooks no argument. “You’re not Robin anymore. We’ll call you Red Robin from now on.” he tells him.

Tim takes the costume into his arms, holds it as if it’s fragile, something sacred. “Okay, dad.” he whispers reverently.

Lord Batman only nods, sharply. “Good boy.”

---

It’s easier to control Tim now, than it was before everything. With the onset of global war, Tim learns to be quiet, to be stealthy - as he always was, but in a somber way, in Bruce’s shadow, always, now.

They are the only resistance against Clark’s - Superman’s reign of terror, his iron grip upon the world. Those who do not agree can expect to be lobotomized at up to one hundred yards - or more - that is, if Superman decides that they deserve to live.

Dick and Barbara can no longer tolerate the stress, can no longer tolerate Bruce. They promise they don’t agree with Lord Superman, but that they can no longer remain on the side of the resistance. It’s a safety issue. Barbara is carrying Dick’s child, and it is safer for them to outwardly support the regime. Dick becomes a Commander, and Bruce is not allowed contact with their child outside of the photos and vids Barbara occasionally sends.

Oddly, the only one who stays - other than Alfred, of course - and Tim, now his good right hand - is Diana, but she is not the Diana he knew. This is the Diana from the other universe, the one where Wally did not die. She brings the strength they need, mother-hens Tim, and Bruce marvels at her undying determination in the face of total war.

He’s already fallen in love with her.

---

“Can I go?” The time had come - their tight knit group had begun to unravel. Perry White had been speaking against the regime through his underground newspaper for too long, and Superman, who had long since lost his mind in Bruce’s eyes, was prepared to deal with him once and for all. They had to put a stop to it - a man’s life was in danger simply for speaking his mind.

The new costume fits Red Robin perfectly, but Bruce had been so sure that Tim had outgrown pleading and whining for inclusion.

In his mind’s eye, he can see Luthor aim the gun - BAM - gone is the Flash, that bright, quippy young streak of red that lightened the burden in their hearts, hell, even made him smile just a few -

“No.” It’s a final no, an end-of-conversation no. Tim should know by now that this is all for his safety. They live in a world where Clark has decided that the world’s citizens are his wayward children, not knowing what is best for themselves. Therefore, he appointed himself to be their savior, whether they want it or not.

Maybe he and Clark aren’t that different after all.

“Tim, I have another job for you, and it’s to be done right here.”

That earns him a pointed look, rebellion brewing low but buried deep under layers of loyalty, of love. As Bruce steps into the car, he prays that Tim knows better now, after all the close calls they’ve had, he should know to follow Bruce’s orders without question. The last thing they want is to lose another -

---

They were too late to save Perry.

As per usual, Superman addresses the television cameras as what’s left of Perry is led out of the small shack that now constitutes the Daily Planet. He’s in cuffs, but there’s no need for them - he won’t be fighting back any time soon. “Mr. White will be cared for at a secure facility. We must do our best to keep our world safe, all of us. Spreading lies and defamation is poor stewardship, and will not be tolerated. Nor will a bad attitude... remember to report all incidents of poor sportsmanship, jaywalking, or misplaced aggression to the police. We will handle the perpetrators as necessary. ...There is no reason for anyone to be hurt. Citizens, good day.” Dispassionate, as usual. Robotic. (It may as well be one of his doppelgangers delivering the speech. Perhaps it is.) It’s a script Bruce has only heard a thousand times. And as the crimes listed become more and more trifling, he becomes more and more sickened by the Orwellian horror their world has become - and even more so by the part he played.

Diana comforts as always. “We gave it our best, Bruce. Someday, we’ll put a stop to this.”

As they retreat, Bruce keys his communicator. “Red Robin, report.”

“Eh? Yeah, Batman. I’m here at the Batcomputer... checking those samples... like you told me...!”

Clear sounds of a fight echo in the background audio and Bruce’s stomach clenches painfully. This is how it started with Dick, too - the lying.

“No... you’re not.” Bruce breathes, quickening his pace to a run while Diana flies beside. “You’re not...!”

---

Bruce has at least five main methods of tracking Tim. His boy is never hard to find. In the worst case scenario (and there is always a worst case scenario), he can even track Tim’s biosignature within a radius of twenty miles. Lucius is already overworked, but Bruce had insisted that that number be boosted to forty by week’s end. Tracers fail; and some methods are unreliable. He laughs at the days when he used to slip a mini-GPS into Dick’s utility belt and call that “safe”.

“Batman, listen to me. I’ve been working on this for months. I couldn’t tell you and you know why. I’m going to rescue Emil Hamilton and the researchers - we already know they want to join the resistance - that way Lord Superman will have a way harder time with R&D, as you know. He’s got a lot of scientists on his side, but only Hamilton’s team are the experts on Kryptonian technology -”

The words go through Bruce, as he pushes the car to its limit, honing in on Tim’s location. The boy is babbling - this shouldn’t be happening - he thought Tim had learned to be quiet - to work in the shadows - to keep himself safe.

Maybe there would be a use to the bat-bunker, after all. His heart couldn’t take much more of this.

“I can do this. I’m going into the central lab now where me ‘n the scientists agreed to rendezvous. Maybe I kept this secret for more than the fact that I knew you’d try to stop me. Maybe I wanted to make you proud.” Tim’s voice is small, sad. “But you’ll see. And you said I couldn’t do this all on my -”

The communication feed cuts and Bruce is running, full tilt, into the research facility. Heedless of alarms, of sensors set off. Diana follows, “Bruce! Wait!” Cursing quietly, she covers his back against the stream of guards that respond to their entry. This is the only situation in which Batman can’t remain quiet, stealthy.

Wally was killed in cold blood, and it could happen again. The youth, the brashness, the color red. The symmetry. And now, it was only red swirling in Bruce’s vision. Red, at the world, the Hell that Superman had constructed for them to live in.

It doesn’t take him long to find the lab.

“We knew Red Robin wanted us to join the Resistance.” Hamilton explains. “But we know what Superman does to dissenters.” The professor looked genuinely afraid. “We turned him over as soon as he showed.”

Bruce growls and throws the man aside, throws him to the floor. A disgusting coward. But he knows.

He knows the worst fears have now been realized. The world opens up, as if to swallow him.

“Batman, I’m sorry.” the scientist gasps. “He fought. So they dealt with him.”

---

There is no such thing as safety.

“It was unfortunate, wasn’t it?”

Clark is there, but Bruce wishes he weren’t. For the first time, Bruce wishes the man were dead. For doing this to him, to their family.

It’s their only ceasefire. Ever. Clark brings him his son’s body and places it - places him - into his arms. Now that Bruce looks, the costume is too big on Tim.

It never should have been made.

Diana can’t hide her tears. Bruce is unable to look - instead, he looks to Superman; his friend, more than just a coworker, but a brother - they grieved together, when they lost the Flash. The old Clark would know what to say, would try and fail to ease his pain, but he would try.

“Acts against the government are intolerable and damage the integrity of the public order.” The same, mechanical voice of Lord Superman. As if he’s reading off cue cards. His face, a stony mask. No indication that he cares what Bruce has lost. “To discourage further criminal activity, we have a zero-tolerance policy. His sacrifice was necessary to keep everyone living here safe and sound.”

“Safe and sound?” Bruce hisses, his voice low and growling but tight with the fresh pain of grief. “Who are you protecting? Who are you really protecting, Clark?”

All the trackers and tracers in the world can’t save him. Tim is lifeless in his arms.

At some point Bruce thought that there might still be a chance. That the real Superman still remained somewhere within, knowing that his actions were capricious, unfair, and ultimately unjust. That maybe Tim’s death really would be a sacrifice, a catalyst, to save the world from tyranny. (And still it was too high a price to pay.)

The only indication that the real Clark still existed is the fact that he didn’t kill them where they stood.

Tim’s body is heavy, so heavy in Bruce’s arms. He grew so much, since everything changed. But now...

“Madness, Clark.” Bruce can finally look down now, at the slack jaw, the pale face (pale like an old joke) - the rigor of death setting in, he can feel it. Tim was always too brave, too determined to prove himself - and now he never could again. “It’s madness.” He can shed his tears later. Alone. Maybe in the bat-bunker.

“Stop this.” he begs Clark. Before anyone else gets hurt.

If there was a hole in Lord Superman’s armor, it’s been patched long ago. The red uniform on Tim is just as red as the one on the Flash. Bruce can tell this doesn’t go unnoticed by Clark.

Diana is silently mouthing a prayer. A prayer of her people, most likely, a prayer for Tim.

Clark looks to the East, where the Sun is just rising. For half a second, he looks like their friend once more. The spell broken.

But it’s too late for that. They’ve already gone too far, the wedge driven too deep. In a year, Lord Superman would arrange for Batman to die, and succeed. And with a horrible sense of foreboding, Bruce even felt that he knew. Deep in his bones, he knew Lord Superman was now on a collision course with him. Set to destroy him... destroy them both.

“I’m sorry, Bruce.” And it’s Clark’s voice they hear, at last. Low. Ashamed. But there. Broken through the layers of contention between them, moved by the loss of the Robin he knew.

His final gift is to depart quietly, leaving them - physically - unharmed.

For all that’s worth.

---

Dick weeps when Diana tells him, and Barbara does too. Their son John is not told exactly what happened to his Uncle Tim, but it doesn’t matter. He’s too young to fully understand.

Bruce dresses the mannequin in the case in his son’s costume. It fits the mannequin quite well. This is where it will stay, where he can always see it.

“You made no mistakes, raising him, Bruce.”

Diana’s words are soft, but to Bruce (and only to him), they feel somehow accusatory. Especially when he feels he has done everything wrong.

“You kept him safe.”

“Diana... there’s no such thing as safe.”

Not in this world. Not in this life.

Tomorrow he’d go to the bunker and sit among all of Tim’s belongings that he’d meticulously picked out for him, especially for an extended period of time, books carefully curated into a variety of genres such that he would be in no danger of going mad down there, alone, constantly watched, fresh air provided so he would not suffocate, food so he would not starve, every need attended for. An absolutely... safe... area.

An area, he would tell himself, was decidedly not a larger and fancier grave, nor the tomb of an Egyptian prince, taking his worldly possessions with him into the afterlife.

It was safety.

Safety that Clark wanted to bring.

Safety, that Lord Superman had taken away from them.

An anguish that would never stop, born of a war that would never end.

#dcau #specs fic #jeeeez it feels good to write #yeah this one's dense #probably not easy to understand if you haven't read the issues #i would recommend watching the episodes of justice league and then reading the issues and THEN reading this #you might enjoy it more iunno #and yes... i wrote another story about the bat bunker and tim's reaction to it #but it's on my external hard drive at home so #yeah maybe one day ill get back to that one

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jedifighterpilot2727 · 7 years

Note

Prompt: Lena doesn't tell anyone it's her birthday but on the day Winn who previously hacked Lena and knows all the info tells Kara to tell Lena happy birthday and Kara is annoyed she didn't know but also determined to give Lena the best birthday ever.

Thank You, Happy Birthday - Eyes Like Kryptonite CH.4

Kara felt extra perky this morning - The yellow sun was shining, the birds were chirping, the winter air was crisp, and there was talk of a rare National City snow storm. It was a good day, a great day, the best day. Lena had stayed over at her apartment last night, an event that was becoming more and more common. Lena’s town car had dropped her off at CatCo first thing that morning, and Snapper had let her go with no more than a “Keep an ear out for any good stories.” And now she was at the DEO, where even J’onn’s cursory glare couldn’t dampen her mood. Winn was typing away at something she was sure only Alex or Lena would understand, and she took the seat beside him.

“What are you working on?“

“Lena suggested some new updates for your suit, and I was just running some algorithms before I made up the prototypes.”

“Ahh, cool. Sounds … complicated.“

Winn’s eyes lit up as he swiveled to face her.

“She has some spectacular ideas; if these work - which I’m sure they will cause she’s a genius - they could completely revolutionize the way you fight. I don’t know why I didn’t think of them in the first place.”

Kara couldn’t hold back the smile that threatened to split her face. Her best friend becoming best friends with her girlfriend gave her warm fuzzies.

“Well if you need me to hit the training room, test anything out, just let me know!“

“It’s still a few weeks out at least, but I’ll keep you posted.d”

He turned back to his computer and Kara quickly became bored with the numbers scrolling past the screen. She was too amped up to sit still for this long.

“I’m gonna go find Alex, maybe she has something for me to punch.”

Winn’s fingers wiggled in a half wave, and his eyes never left the computer screen when he responded.

“Hey, tell Lena I said Happy Birthday! I’m sure I won’t get to see her today - you’ve probably got ridiculous plans.“

Kara froze.

“What?”

“Tell Lena I said Happy Birthday.“

“Lena, who?”

Winn stopped typing and stared at her.

“Lena … Luthor? The only Lena I know? And also your girlfriend? Whose birthday it is today?“

Her shocked expression must have worried him.

“Did you just experience sudden amnesia? Do you know where you are? I should call Alex… ”

“Lena’s birthday is today?“

“Yes?” He stood slowly, hands twitching as if he wanted to reach out and touch her but was also slightly scared to.

“How do you know that?”

“Well, when I was doing all that research on her when we thought she was trying to kill you -”

“More importantly, why didn’t you tell me?!“

“I thought you knew! Birthdays are like your thing! And Lena’s your girlfriend, so I just assumed you knew!”

“She never said anything! And with the holidays and everything, I didn’t think to ask! Winn! What am I gonna do?! I need at least a month to plan! And now I have - “ She grabbed his arm and studied his watch. “- eight and a half hours to plan the most spectacular birthday surprise ever!“

“Kar, whatever you do, I’m sure she’ll love it. Like, you could just smile at her really big and she’d melt into a puddle.”

“Winn! Lena is - well she’s different - I can’t just- I have to - urgghhhh!!” She screeched in frustration and shot off, taking the quick exit through the skylight, spiraling into the skies of National City.

It was a quick flight to L-Corp, and she was grateful that Lena didn’t have any meetings planned until later. Her feet landed softly on the balcony, but Lena still turned, features lighting up when she saw Kara.

“Supergirl,” She greeted as Kara stepped inside. “To what do I owe the pleasure? I have a meeting in half an hour, but if you wanted to make out I could squeeze you in.”

Kara tried to ignore the way Lena’s eyes traced her suit, she knew that Lena kind of had a thing for her Super ego, and she fought the urge to take her girlfriend up on the offer. She was here on a mission.

“Actually, you’re in quite a bit of trouble.” She put her hands on her hips in that classic Supergirl pose.

“Trouble?” Lena’s eyes clouded briefly and then cleared, a sheepish grin spreading across her face. “Did I forget to rinse out my wine glass again? I know that’s a pet peeve of yours.“

Kara relaxed her stern posture, she didn’t want Lena thinking she was too mad, after all.

“No, it’s not the wine glass thing. That’s not a big deal, really.” She put her hands back on her hips. “But you could have told me it was your birthday!”

“Oh, well it was never a big deal at the orphanage, and then the Luthors were always busy; I haven’t really celebrated it since Lex … Anyway, it’s not a big deal - I promise.“

“It IS a big deal! It’s a huge deal! One of my favorite people in the world was born today!”

Lena blushed a pretty shade of red.

“I’m one of your favorite people?“

“Of course! You’re pretty close to the top of the list.”

“That’s probably the best birthday present anyone could ever get me.“

Their eyes locked and once again Kara was struck with how alone Lena was used to being.

“I wish you would have told me. I would have made you birthday pancakes!”

“You made me pancakes this morning!“

“Not birthday pancakes! Birthday pancakes have chocolate chips in them!”

Lena laughed, and Kara lost herself in the musical sound.

“How did we happen?“

“What?” Kara was confused at the sudden change of topic.

“A Super and a Luthor. What are the chances of us ending up together?”

Kara stepped forward, tucking the stray strand of hair that had fallen from Lena’s bun behind her ear.

“I don’t know, but I’m really glad we did.“

She felt the pull of those green eyes, but she forced herself to step away.

“What time are you getting off work today?”

“Six-thirty?“

“Can you make it six?”

“For you? Yes.“

“Good. I’ll pick you up.”

“Kara, you really don’t have to do anything, it’s just another day.“

“Lena.”

“Ok, ok.” The CEO held her hands up in a placating gesture. “I’ll be waiting.”

Kara leaned forward, giving Lena a quick peck on the lips before speeding away, leaving a smiling Lena staring out her balcony, fingers pressed to her lips.

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

Eight hours was not nearly enough for all that Kara wanted to do.

It was lucky she had super speed and could fly, otherwise she never could have pulled it together.

She showed up to Lena’s office at six o’clock on the dot, this time as Kara Danvers. Jess let her up right away, and Lena was just locking away her notebooks when she walked through the door.

“Ready to go?“

“Of course. I’m all yours.” Lena smiled at her, and for a brief moment she forgot what she was there for.

“You’re beautiful.”

“What?” Lena chuckled.

“You’re beautiful.” She carefully traced the curve of Lena’s jaw with her fingertip. “Stunningly, breathtakingly beautiful. And I’m so glad you’re in my life.“

“You, Kara Danvers, are a charmer.”

“It’s all the truth. And I hope that one day you believe me.“

“I hate to break the mood, but if you don’t whisk me away right now, we might not make it out of the building.”

“Right, right. Allow me.” She held out her arm to Lena and proceeded to walk them out to Lena’s town car. She opened the door for the CEO and then slid in after her.

“First, we have a glass of the newest red straight from your favorite vineyard. I talked them into bottling their next cask a little early.” She said, passing Lena a wine glass.

“My favorite vineyard is in France.”

“I know.” Kara winked knowingly.

“I’m impressed already!” Lena said, awed as she took a sip. “This is delicious!”

“Just wait for the rest of it!.“

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

It was 11:59 when Kara rolled onto her side to face Lena.

“Well, for the last time this year - Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you, this is by far the best birthday ever.” Lena remarked. “I don’t know how you’re ever going to top this next year.”

“I only had a few hours to plan this, usually it takes weeks, or at least a couple of days - I think I’ll manage.“

Lena cast a glace at the giant teddy bear propped up in the corner of the room.

“I still don’t understand how you managed to arrange all of this.”

“Super powers go a long way. Plus it’s amazing what people will do if you ask nicely.“

“Should have known, Kara, Sunny Danvers can get anything.”

“I got you, didn’t I?” She smarted off, feeling a little bit high from the blissful expression on Lena’s face.

“That you did,” Lena smiled and kissed her. “That you did.”

Send me Supercorp prompts and be my friend on tumblr!!

#supercorp #supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #fanfiction

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jossysara · 4 years

Text

Research Project

The revolutionizing developments in technology have created thousands of tools and resources that we use everyday in our lives. It has made our lives easier and faster, but has it made them better? The average American spends nearly twelve hours staring at a screen. Recent studies have shown that too much time spent on screens, whether for work or pleasure, increases the risk of becoming addicted and can even affect one’s mental and physical health. Social media, video games, and movies also have an impact on an individual’s way of viewing the world. It is important that we are aware of the affects technology has on us and how we can use them in a responsible and productive way.

My phone used to be my best friend. Wherever I went, it came with me. Often, I would pick up my phone to check the time, then mysteriously find myself on Instagram thirty minutes later. Sometimes, I’d have the false perception that my phone vibrated, but when I checked the lock screen there weren’t any notifications. These same things have happened to 66% of the world’s population. Two in every three people are addicted to their phone. With the rapid growth in technology, this risk of addiction is higher than ever before. Children are the most at risk, being the ones growing up in a world full of screens. The number of teens with depression and anxiety have skyrocketed, and scientists believe it’s because of the phones. People in the workplace are constantly staring at a blue light that is affecting their eyes, posture, and brain. Is it too late for these individuals, or is there still hope?

According to healthcare specialist, Nicole Fisher, there is hope. Starting with the parents, they can turn things around for their children by creating an electronic free environment. By simply encouraging outdoor play, family time, and creative activities, kids won’t be so anxious to get on their devices. It’s okay to be allowed some screen time, preferably at night when the sun is down, but it’s the amount of time we spend on these devices that have an affect on our brains, bodies, and relationships. The National Institute of Health found that even “children who consume two hours of media a day have lower thinking and language scores on tests than their peers who don’t” (Fisher). It doesn’t matter if you are on your phone, computer, or TV, the affect it has on the human brain is all the same. New research is currently finding that depending on how long we spend staring at a screen, it can “literally change the way we think and develop” (Fisher). The most concerned age group currently is teens, since they are spending more time than anyone on these devices. Kids are the most at risk for gaining mental health problems because their brains are still developing. Researchers have compared the brains of kids who don’t use electronics to those who do, and there is a physical difference in each of them. Screens are addictive, and even dangerous if we aren’t careful. Parents need to be aware of how often they use their devices, especially in front of their kids. The NIH found that, just like an addictive substance, “parent’s use of devices will become a vicious cycle for their children and their children” (Fisher). If parents are able to establish a stable household environment where electronics are only used briefly throughout the day, kids won’t be as at risk for developing mental problems.

Teenagers have a special relationship with their phones. Some can’t even be without them for a few minutes. In an article written by Jose De-Sola Gutiérrez on the NCBI page, he summarizes some of the known causes in phone addictions. Studies have shown that some of the problems that form through phone use are associated with, “personality variables, such as extraversion, neuroticism, self-esteem, impulsivity, self-identity, and self-image” (Gutiérrez). This can lead to other issues like sleep deprivation, stress, depression, and anxiety. Gutiérrez compares the use of cell-phones to drug addictions. Echeburua defines behavioral addiction as “the loss of control, the establishment of a dependent relationship, tolerance, the need for progressively more time and dedication, and severe interference with daily life.” Many behavioral disorders in cell phones are particularly found in teens. Nomophobia is the fear of being without your phone or being unable to access it, which is seen in many teens today. Another behavioral disorder is Textaphrenia. This is “the false sensation of having received a text message or call that leads to constantly checking the device” (Gutiérrez). Aside from the behavioral side, physical and psychological problems have also been reported in result to phone abuse. People have reported rigidity and muscle pain, computer vision syndrome, and pain in thumbs and wrists. Researchers are most concerned with adolescents as they are currently the most exposed to these problems. It is encouraged by experts to set a limit for how long you’re on your phone, then find something else to do like go outside or do something creative. As long as we are careful with how much time we spend on these devices, we are less likely to develop physical, psychological, or even behavioral problems.

When parents are always on their phones in front of their kids, it too, has a negative impact on them. Parents may be answering an important email, or simply scrolling through Facebook, but that doesn’t matter. All their kids see is that they are focusing more on the small device in their hand instead of them. Sara Lappe studies the relationship between parents and kids, and how technology affects that relationship. Studies have shown that when parents increase their screen time, children will do the same. Without even realizing it, parents are sending a message to their kid that says, “My phone or the TV is more interesting than you” (Lappe). Another study found that when parents are on their phone, kids are more likely to conduct risky behavior. Lappe says some parents she knows are worse than teenagers when it comes to putting their phone down. “They refuse to stop playing video games or scrolling through social media during medical visits” (Lappe), so she has to repeatedly tell them to put the device away. If parents don’t establish some self control on their own screens, how do they expect their kids to behave? It’s time to put down the device, and focus on what’s more important. Lappe suggests a few tips to help parents who are struggling with this issue. First, ban electronics from the dinner table, then limit screen time, and finally, play with the kids! Help them embrace their creativity and parents will finally see what their kids are capable of without a screen in their face.

Technology addiction can happen to anyone, and its affects are life changing. Whether you’re a young child, teenager, or adult, our technological world is not something we can hide from. Some people’s jobs require them to be on a computer most of the day. The Nielson study found that “American adults spend nearly 12 hours a day on average staring at a screen, and most of that screen time occurs while they’re at work” (Creighton). Kelly Creighton asks the question many Americans are wondering, “Is too much screen time a problem for your employees’ wellness?” Although technology has transformed our lives in many positive ways, too much of it can be unhealthy. Neuroimaging research shows that “too much screen time actually damages the human brain, its gray matter and white matter, and its overall ability to function; it also shrinks in size” (Creighton). This can affect a person’s ability to think clearly, plan, and organize, and also may increase feelings of stress. Staring at a screen for too long can also negatively affect employees vision. Their eyesight may become blurry, and they may experience frequent headaches. This is because of the blue light emitting from the screen. Sitting at a computer all day also means that employees aren’t very physically active. Doing this long term can lead to higher risks of becoming obese or getting heart disease. Lastly, staring a screen for too long can lead to serious screen addictions. To prevent this, it is recommended to “promote the implementation of distraction-free times when employees can pick a block of time each day where their devices won’t notify them of anything and they won’t be staring at a screen” (Creighton). By encouraging device-free time during parts of the work day, screen addictions can be less common. Too much screen time is bad for anyone, but people in the workplace are especially concerned for since it's their job.

People are worried that the increase of technology is affecting our ability to focus or remember certain things. “Tech is messing with our minds” (Pietrangelo). But researchers aren’t so sure this is the case. The relationship between technology and mental health isn’t a clear link. “The literature is a wreck,” said Anthony Wagner, a psychologist from Stanford University. There’s no data that can truly confirm if technology is the cause for altering our cognition. The question itself is very broad. “Screen time isn’t a thing; it’s 100 things,” said Florence Breslin, a scientist studying at the Laureate Institute. Because screen time can mean so many things, it’s hard for scientists to measure what is affecting our brains and how it is doing it. The only advice they can say to people is to limit your screen time to a minimum.

Even if the link between screen time and our mental wellness isn’t certain, there are other ways technology can influence us in positive and negative ways. Media and entertainment are two frequently used and very popular uses technology provides for us. Whether you are on Instagram for hours, playing video games all night, or binging your favorite Netflix show, they’ve all been observed to affect our mental health. Many studies have proven that kids who are surrounded by violent television and video games will begin to mimic those same behaviors. Similarly, teens who spend lots of time on social media are at risk of developing depression or anxiety. Being aware of the issues that develop in both scenarios can help people who are facing these problems have a better understanding of the cognitive effects it has and how to prevent them.

Psychologist Albert Bandura has studied social learning for many years, as well as the tendency for children to imitate what they observe. He conducted a well-known study known as the Bobo doll experiment. The purpose of the experiment was to expose children to two different adults interacting with a Bobo doll. One of them aggressive towards it and the other non-aggressive. Once the adult left, the child would be put in that same room with the Bobo doll and many other toys. Just as Bandura predicted, the children who were exposed to the aggressive role model imitated that same aggression towards the Bobo doll. Bandura’s social learning theory concluded that, “learning occurs through observations and interactions with other people. Essentially, people learn by watching others and then imitating these actions”. Just as Bandura studied how children imitate aggressive behavior from watching adult role models, other psychologists around the world try to see if violent media will have that same impact on kids. The American Psychology Association records their findings as they try to answer the question, “Does violent media affect children’s behavior?” Bandura studied the surprisingly violent content in children’s programs, and more importantly, how it affected the child. In 1982, the National Institute of Mental Health found three major effects violent media had on kids. They observed children to be less sensitive to the pain of others, more aggressive behavior towards their peers, and fearful of the world they lived in. Psychologists L. Rowell Huesmann, Leonard Eron found that kids who are constantly expose to violent entertainment show more aggressive behavior in high school. They were also more likely to get arrested for criminal acts when reaching adulthood. Psychologists say that, “exposure to media violence is just one of several factors that can contribute to aggressive behavior” (APA). Besides a child’s personal family life and mental health, video games can also have an effect. Christopher J. Ferguson concluded that “video game violence harms children” (APA). It is important to be aware of what your child is constantly being exposed to and how it is effecting them throughout the day. Being able to observe small problems and stopping them now will allow you to prevent bigger potential problems in the future.

Katie Hurley records her discoveries of the pros and cons of social media in an article found on Psycom. While social media can be used to stay in contact with friends and family, recent studies have shown it can also cause anxiety, depression, and possible eating disorders. I find that whenever I’m scrolling through Instagram or Facebook, I always compare myself to others, putting myself down in the process. A study from the University of Pittsburgh “found a correlation between time spent scrolling through social media apps and negative body image feedback” (Hurley). But social media isn’t all bad, right? I mean, don’t you like seeing how many people have liked and commented on your recent post? The UCLA Brain Mapping Center found that receiving those constant notifications has shown “increased activity in the reward center of the brain” (Hurley). Maybe that’s why teens are getting so attached to social media. “It feels good to be ‘liked’” (Hurley). Social media is an easy way to make socializing “easy and immediate” (Hurley), and gives teens a sense of community and connection. These qualities can be used for both good and bad. While communicating with others is easier than ever before, teens can also be confronted with “cyberbullying, trolls, toxic comparisons” (Hurley) and many other upsetting scenarios. Social media can make us focus more on the fake friends following us, then the real friends we are with every day. It is important to not get caught up in this digital world and remember what’s most important in life.

Technology isn’t all bad, however. In fact, the advancements in technology have created thousands of jobs and opportunities that never existed a few years ago. We have access to infinite amounts of information, making it easy to learn anything we want. It has made our lives easier, faster, and better. Technology has helped us communicate with others, manage money, track our health, and keep our homes safe. It has also changed the way we entertain ourselves. Technology will continue to transform our lives in ways we can’t even imagine, and we should embrace it! A huge study on brains and technology is currently being overseen by the National Institutes of Health. Vox records their data-intensive study as they strive to further answer the question if screens truly do affect the human brain. “It might not be able to provide those answers. They’re limited by the data they can collect,” (Resnick) however, they’re high hopes that this ten year study will finally answer some questions. Technology has made our lives better and easier in every way. Our lives would be very different without it. Just make sure that your life isn’t consumed in it everyday, even if it is your job. People in the workplace are just as at risk as a teenager on social media when it comes to the dangerous symptoms of too much screen time. Be aware of your body and mind, and take breaks from screens throughout the day. By following these simply guidelines, we can still enjoy the benefits of technology while also taking care of ourselves.

Technology can be our friend if we use it in the right way. It’s good to know how our devices affect us so we can be more aware of how we use them. I personally choose to not let my phone rule my life. Although I used to be a slave to its every beckoning call, now I only use it for communication and my morning alarm. I’ve found myself to be much happier throughout the day and have used the extra time to embrace my creativity and spend time with my family. With kids and teens being the most at risk for the consequences of screen time and media content, it is important that parents take charge to help them learn responsible use of these devices. Limit screen time, encourage outdoor activities, play with siblings, even throw those electronics out the door if you have to. Your mental and physical wellness depends on how you choose to spend your time on technology. Just remember that you’re not the enemy, the screen is.

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