#look. this isn’t founded on much the idea sort of just sprang out of nowhere but. listen

[speedruntechnically]

I think hell might have killed god

#look. this isn’t founded on much the idea sort of just sprang out of nowhere but. listen #ultkl has multiple instances of creations killing their creators and inferiors killing their superiors #humanity was killed by machines. it’s own creations. #v2. the ‘superior’ model. was killed by its own predecessor v1 #gabriel experiences his first two defeats at the hands of something he clearly views as inferior #the council. potentially the only beings other than god to have a high status than gabriel. are killed by him #so if god made hell and later came to hate and regret it. and hell is alive whether intentionally or not #it wouldn’t be out of place for it to have killed. it’s own creator #maybe all of this should have been in the body of the post but it’s too late I’m not retyping it. read my tags boy #or perhaps hell and god are in some ways the same person #ultkl also has a lot of focus of transformation. prime souls and gabriels change of heart and even swordsmachine and mindflays and ferrymen #perhaps it is his corpse or hell is an extension of him. I don’t know I’m kind of rambling at this point #whatever. look at my theory boy #mine #ultrakill

[anemonenemerosa]

The Spare - Chapter 7

Hello again,

here we go with the next chapter.

The fic is still inspired by the lovely @lumosinlove

TW for mentioned homophobia, past (and present?) abuse, mental health issues.

Chapter 7

Regulus quietly eased himself down on his bed, not making a noise, struggling to grasp what he just overheard. And it was a lot. His brother was, erm... dating the person he called after dinner. The voice on the phone was somewhat unintelligible but clearly male... named Remus. Sirius is dating a man. He was gay... playing in the NHL. Holy shit.'

After a moment of comprehension, Regulus pushed the newly found insights in his brothers’ sex-life aside. There was so much more. Sirius did not just go and found himself a new family six years ago. He felt as abandoned by his family as Regulus felt by Sirius. He feared their parents. Was the brave attitude Sirius would show Regulus just to keep him calm and happy, to protect his little brother? The beatings didn't end when Sirius was fifteen, as Regulus was always made to believe and he was going through therapy because of the psychological damage it caused. All the time Sirius told him he did not understand, Regulus drove him further away but his brother was right all along. Regulus did not understand, and he could kick himself for not getting this earlier.

But Sirius left Regulus there instead of explaining to him what he did not understand.

“I wouldn’t trade places with him though. I wouldn’t give up the Lions for anything.” His brother had said. Regulus wouldn't want to trade places with himself either.

This made clear that Sirius had no idea how Regulus' life went and how leaving him alone did not ease the pressure off of him. On the contrary. Do other families actually talk about such things? Probably, but we did not talk and now the damage is done.

Then, another aspect of the conversation demanded attention. Sirius had found someone. A team, some kind of family he actually wanted to spend time with and not just showed up out of sense of duty. And this Remus, who seemed to deeply care about him. Him, not his career, not his status. That man might even love him.

Regulus felt his eyes burn. He hadn't cried in years but the bare idea that relationships existed where people cared for each other like that, without expectations, showing support and giving comfort, left him longing. He remembered the feeling of being cared for by Sirius when he was young and realised that he was secretly craving it. Envy mingled with the burning the remorse of all he ever did to his brother while tears ran down his face.

                                   ............................................

The next day went by in a blur. Regulus was confused and hurting. His carefully maintained walls broke down yesterday and he was struggling to get them up again. He still couldn't look into his brothers’ eyes, he was off kilter and felt too exposed. But he knew he needed to get a grip, needed to talk to his brother before he left the next morning.

Regulus wandered around again at night but not in the house. He couldn’t walk past Sirius room again before he was ready. Instead, he put his running shoes on, climbed out of his window and started off along his favourite path. He'd run it so often, it didn't even make a difference that is was dark. He put Sirius' sexuality on the back burner, deciding that it was more important to get a concept of how he felt about his brother after all the input from last night. Letting the call replay in his head, Regulus tried to make a note of the feelings that surged through him. It hurt horribly but he pushed through and began to classify his emotions halfway through his second laps.

He felt sorry for his brother. Sirius was abused, felt just as abandoned as Regulus, stood under enormous pressure from the media already and oh, he was a closeted gay NHL-Captain dating his teams' -almost professional NHL-player- PT. The name Remus stroked something in Regulus' memory and he had looked him up earlier that day. Somewhat typically Sirius: Never one to do things by halves. But back to the feelings-endeavour.

There was shame, quite a lot. Regulus was being big-headed, naive and too eager to please his parents, the Snakes, too eager to escape Sirius' success pressing down on him until he couldn't breathe. He had let himself get blinded.

Despite the re-evaluation of their last years, Regulus still felt abandoned by his big brother and unbearably hurt. Although he began to fathom why Sirius put so much distance between himself and the family, he promised Regulus to always be his brother, to be there for him. And then, he wasn't. This wasn't all Sirius' fault of course, there were so many layers to their relationship that his head spun and he didn't even know everything that happened to his brother.

Regulus took a short break from running and feelings before he began his fifth laps, wishing he had thought of water.

Envy was the next feeling on the list. It was a not a knew occurrence but while it usually focused on his brother’s career, he now envied Sirius for something completely different. For having friends as close as a family, a team that supported him and seemed to genuinely like him as a person. Jealousy threw itself into the mix with a pang. All these people were in company of the Sirius' happy and caring side. The side that once was reserved for Regulus only. But maybe, it was possible to deeply care for several people. That Sirius finding real friends didn't mean he had nothing left for his baby brother. But Regulus drove him away and lost his claim. As quick as the jealousy came, it was overshadowed by longing for true affection and loss of how close he once was to his brother.

Remus. The name sprang up in Regulus' mind. Sirius hadn't just found a home, he found love. Something, Regulus grew more and more aware that he himself was undeserving of such strong affection. Any affection honestly. After all he had done, no one could possibly like him. The realisation just increased the longing and gave it a painful twinge.

 As if it wasn’t bad enough already.

Regulus gave up running after the fifth laps and settled on lying on a park bench in the middle of nowhere instead, like a proper creep.

Maybe I could do with a bit of therapy too, at the very least to sort through this mess, he thought dryly.

Then, there was the sexuality part. His brother was gay. This thought should have evoked repulsion in him but it didn’t. He briefly considered the common slurs and dirty jokes in the locker-room and on ice. Regulus was not sure how much of it was supposed to be harmless chirping but without doubt, it would become ammunition of certain players, if they knew it was actually true. And his parents made decidedly no effort to sugar-coat their opinions.

                                 ......................................................

"Sports is stooping lower and lower these days!" Regulus remembered his father’s agitation during the Olympic winter-games in Sochi.

Tim Stevenson, a Vancouver City Councillor, urged the International Olympics Committee to add "sexual orientation" to the Olympic Charter. The politician was openly-gay and married to Gary Paterson, the equally openly-gay moderator of the United Church of Canada.

"They shouldn't have allowed that in the first place" Orion hissed while succumbing into a rare fit of rage.

Regulus, of course, couldn’t remember the marriage in 2004 but his parents would never fail to show their distaste and indignation.

                                   .................................................

Regulus had always believed blindly what his parents told him, once out of naivety, later out of self-preservation. A mode of action he began to question deeply by now. The blind trust towards his parents was crumbling quickly, and Regulus felt himself uncertain of what to do now that his moral concepts and alleged knowledge were dissolving at an alarming rate. But as many tumultuous hard feelings as he allowed himself against Sirius for abandoning him and escaping, he did not think that being gay changed something about his brother...

Wasn't sexuality something you can’t help? That has always been like this? Then, hadn't he always been gay and knowing about it did not make him a different person. But Regulus hardly doubted that most of the NHL shared this train of thought, let alone their parents.

This can ruin Sirius' career... but isn't hockey supposed to be about the game and the game only? His mantra came back from the dead.

Why should it be of any importance for his game where he put his dick, or let other people stick their dick, for that matter? Regulus shuddered at the thought that his brother had a sex-life but he found himself not cringing at the idea of Sirius liking men. It was more the fact that he had sex in general. He denied that brothers, just like parents did this at all. Being the living proof that his parents had definitely had sex, was irrelevant.

Regulus decided to keep his brothers secret. He would not hurt him any more than he already had.

Coming home, around three in the morning, tired but much more at ease he found himself able to really sleep for the first time in what felt like years. Come next morning, he would grow a pair of metaphorical balls (he already had actual ones, thank you very much) to tell Sirius about the Interview and apologise. He would not talk about his brother’s sexuality, didn't want to intrude. It was not Regulus' business after all.

Regulus never overslept but this very day, he did. When he woke up, his brother was already gone. Thats that. I hope you liked it :)

Stay safe and channel your inner Hufflepuff

#the spare #Sweater Weather #lumosinlove #regulus black #Sirius Black #sirius and regulus #Remus Lupin

[wildmagicplant]

i found some vox machina ficlets hanging out in my google drive and i’m never going to write the others (it was meant to be an exercise to get me to write more and i’m just not interested in that lol) so i’m tossing them up on here!

dialogue prompts from this post

Vax- “You found it on the beach? You know, when most people take a walk on the beach, they pick up seashells.”

“You found it on the beach? You know, when most people take a walk on the beach, they pick up seashells,” Vax deadpanned, staring at the horrifying corpse in front of them. When they’d followed the trail to a coastal town, he’d sort of hoped they could relax a little. He’d never really had a chance to spend a day at the beach, but he was pretty sure you weren’t supposed to fight deadly tentacle monsters.

Percy shrugged. “I was poking around, exploring, and something poked back. Besides, seashells are awfully ordinary as mementos.”

Wiping his hand on his pants, Scanlan said, “This seems pretty tacky to me, along with sticky, and disgusting… I could keep going,” he offered. They shook their heads. Vax took a moment to look over at his sister, and found her already settling back down against Trinket. Sometimes, he marvelled at how casual she could be. They’d just been surprised by a huge beast trying to-eat them, he supposed, but really who knew-and she’d been quick on the draw as ever, firing off arrows without even standing all the way up, and here she was, looking like she was about to fall asleep.

An idea sprang to mind. “Scanlan,” Vax whispered, moving a little closer to the gnome. “Would you help me play a prank on my sister?”

Before Scanlan could answer, a loud voice shouted, “Did we miss anything?” Vax turned to see Grog clomping his way back to them, far less impressive than usual, given that he seemed to be sliding in the sand. Pike was perched on his shoulders, wobbling to keep her balance, with an occasional hand from Keyleth, who was walking softly beside them.

Vax looked back at the tentacle monster corpse, and then shared a look with Percy and Scanlan. “Absolutely nothing,” he called back.

Grog- “Put the chicken down.”

Not much surprised Grog Strongjaw. Sure, sometimes he missed things that everyone else saw, and maybe sometimes they were a little important, but the big stuff? He was great at not being surprised when it counted. So walking into the dining room in the mansion to see Keyleth and one of Scanlan’s servants fighting over a full, cooked chicken was really fucking weird.

“Put the chicken down,” he said, striding toward them. Keyleth froze when he said it, and turned her head slowly to look at Grog. She didn’t let go of the chicken.

“Uh, hey, Grog, fancy seeing you here,” she said brightly. He didn’t understand why she said half the things she did, so he ignored it. The servant didn’t appear to have let go of the chicken either, which was also weird, since he was pretty sure Scanlan had said they had to listen to anyone in Vox Machina giving them orders. Maybe he had to be more specific, he thought.

“Servant,” Grog said, in his best commanding voice, “unhand that chicken.” It was pretty hard to see the servant’s eyes, being all see-through, but he swore it rolled his eyes at him. “Isn’t that supposed to work?” he asked Keyleth.

“I think it probably won’t listen if your orders conflict with someone else’s. Like Scanlan’s,” she added, and glared at the servant. It tugged on the chicken, and Keyleth barely avoided falling over. Grog chuckled.

“Wait, but why did Scanlan tell it not to let go of this chicken? Hang on, what do you want with the chicken? What’s so great about this chicken?”

Keyleth sighed. “I think Scanlan told them not to give me any chicken. I… may have tried to play a prank on him yesterday?” she said, not really looking at Grog. “He, um, said it was ‘the worst excuse for a prank he’d ever seen’ and he was insulted, and… I think this is him trying to teach me what a good prank is.”

Grog laughed. “Okay, but it’s pretty good. You’re playing tug-of-war! With a chicken! It looks pretty stupid.” Keyleth looked a little sad, but she’d get over it. Still, maybe he could help. “Here,” he said, and grabbed the chicken out of their combined hands. “Ta-dah, now you don’t have to worry about it. How about you go tell Scanlan, ‘haha, very funny, great prank,’ he gives up, and I get to eat this chicken. Sound good?”

She looked a little skeptical, but Keyleth sighed again, and said, “Thanks, Grog. Good idea.” Of course it was, he thought. Why didn’t they all see that he was clearly the most logical one in the group? Shrugging, Grog left the kitchen again, and went to settle down for a nice midnight snack.

Scanlan- “I don’t really think of myself as a thief…”

“You really make a shit thief, you know,” Vax said, materializing out of nowhere as he was annoyingly prone to doing. Scanlan resisted the urge to jump.

“I don’t really think of myself as a thief… more of a liberator,” he explained, turning the gem over in his hands. What if it did something really cool? Percy would probably want to examine it, he thought scornfully. As if he knew anything about magic.

“Well, that’s your first problem, there,” Vax replied. He seemed cheerful, or at least as cheerful as anyone wearing what looked like a goth feather duster could. “If you’re going to steal stuff, you’ve gotta be honest about it. Then you can get better.”

Scanlan snorted. “Aren’t you the one trying to be all holy and righteous? Maybe you should try the whole ‘being honest’ thing.” If only there was some way to tell what kind of magic was on this stone. He could feel it giving off energy, there was no doubt there, but what did it do?

Shrugging, Vax said, “I mean, sure, I’m trying to be “all holy and righteous” but I’m still a thief. It’s what I do. I’m just saying, if you ever want a lesson, I’d be happy to teach you.” Scanlan finally looked up at that. Vax looked genuine, but-

“I don’t need lessons! I do just fine on my own, thank you very much.” Scanlan huffed, and turned away. Something clinked lightly on to the ground in front of him.

As Scanlan reached down to pick up his own money pouch, Vax said, “Are you sure?” He didn’t give Vax the satisfaction of looking back.

#critrole #cr1 #ficlets #critical role #vox machina #my stuff

[wistfulcynic]

Error 404: “Little” Brother Not Found

SUMMARY: Liam Jones loves his little brother, he truly does. And if that love takes the form of good natured teasing, well, what’s the harm in that? Sure it annoys Killian but that’s kind of the point, and anyway Killian’s still just a lad. Liam’s sure he only just started shaving last year at the earliest. So when he stumbles on Killian mid-dalliance with a certain blonde princess, Liam is forced to reassess a lot of things about his “little” brother, many of which do. not. compute. 

a/n: ahahahahaha yeah. So this sprang, as so many mad things do, from a discord discussion about how Liam might react to the discovery that his little brother, the awkward, blushing, nerdy Lieutenant Jones, is in actual fact not so awkward anymore and involved with Princess Emma. Involved, in multiple senses of the word.  

I have never been a huge fan of Liam, full disclosure, and I particularly dislike it when their interactions infantilise Killian and take away from his own qualities and accomplishments. So while Liam in this fic does not die or get hurt in any physical way, he does have a few fairly painful revelations. And of course the full DOES NOT COMPUTE meltdown. NOT SORRY. 

This is modern Lieutenant Duckling. Imagine Misthaven as a 21st century minor European kingdom. 

-

Rating: hard-ish T/soft-ish M Words: 3.5k Tags: Modern AU, Modern Royalty AU, Lieutenant Duckling, Brothers Jones

On AO3

-

Liam Jones likes to think of himself as a reasonable man. He’s an honest man, and an honourable one. Those two attributes have never been in question. He’s frequently an impatient man, and sometimes a judgemental one, as his little brother Killian tells him frequently. Killian also calls him a stubborn arse, and Liam has to admit that this might also be valid, but when Killian accuses him of being unreasonable, well, that’s where he draws the line. 

He’s perfectly reasonable. Perfectly. What’s unreasonable are Killian’s objections to a) being called ‘little brother’—he is little, after all, by comparison to Liam’s greater height and broader shoulders—and b) his refusal to allow his older and wiser and bigger brother to help him find a girl. 

“I do not require your input on that subject, thank you very much,” Killian snarls. “Kindly back the fuck off.” 

“But Tink is really nice,” wheedles Liam, as they walk from where his ship is moored in the harbour and into the town to have some lunch. Killian no longer serves on the same ship, having accepted a secondment about a year ago to work on a highly specialised project for the Royal Council. But whenever Liam is in port they make a point of spending as much time as they can together. 

“I’m sure she is,” Killian sighs. “Not interested.”  

“She’s pretty, too.” 

“I don’t doubt it. Still not interested.” 

“Look, Killian, I’m only trying to help—” 

“No, you’re trying to control me as you always do. I’m twenty-four years old, Liam! I’m an officer in the Royal Navy, same as you, and trust me when I tell you I am more than capable of finding my own women!” 

Liam scoffs at this. Killian only just started shaving, he’s sure of it, and the last time he witnessed his little brother trying to interact with a female Killian stumbled over his own feet and spilled his drink down the front of her dress. 

He still brings that one up. 

-

The next day he goes to visit Killian at the project’s headquarters in the palace library. On his way there he runs into Princess Emma—almost literally, as she’s not paying any attention to where she’s going, strolling along with a sort of dazed, dreamy look in her eyes, and he does his best to catch her as respectfully as possible by the elbow before she slams into him. 

“Begging your pardon, Your Highness,” he says, with a small bow. 

“Oh! Captain Jones!” Emma blinks in surprise. “Er—I apologise, my mind was wandering.” 

Liam bows again. “No trouble at all, Princess.” 

He stands aside so she can pass and watches her go with a smile on his face, wondering if he should tease Killian about it now or wait until later. Liam flatters himself he has a good relationship with Princess Emma; he served as a member of her personal guard for a short time and they have always got on well. Killian on the other hand, always flushes bright pink whenever her name is mentioned and makes stuttering excuses for why he has a pressing need to be anywhere that she is not. 

It’s adorable, Liam thinks. Killian has a little crush. 

He finds his brother in the palace library, leaning against a bookshelf like he needs it to hold him up. His colour is high and his hair is sticking up at the back. 

“Lieutenant Jones!” Liam barks. “You are out of uniform!” 

“I—what?” Killian scowls. “What are you on about, Liam, there’s nothing wrong with my uniform.” 

Wordlessly, and with crisp, precise movements, Liam withdraws a comb from his uniform coat and hands it to his brother. Killian’s scowl deepens but he takes it and carefully tidies his hair before handing it back. 

“What have you been doing in here that got your hair all mussed up?” Liam teases. “Research got you excited?” 

“Something like that,” Killian mutters. “I—must’ve tugged on it when I was thinking.” 

“Mmmm,” says Liam, and decides the best time to torture little brothers is always. “I ran into the princess on my way here,” he says casually, biting back a grin when Killian’s ears go pink. 

“Did you?” He’s clearly trying hard to be casual but his voice comes out as more of a croak. 

“Yep. It makes sense, I suppose. Her private apartments aren’t too far from here.” 

Killian clears his throat. “I wouldn’t know anything about that.” 

“Do you ever see her? Or do you hide in the bushes when she goes by?”

“Liam—” Killian growls warningly.

“I’m surprised you accepted this posting, actually, seeing as it means you’re working so close to where she lives. What are you going to do if she stops by to check on your progress? Stammer like a schoolboy in front of the rest of the project team? Run away?” 

Killian’s eyes flash. “I expect I’d manage,” he snarls. “As I keep telling you I’m an adult—” 

“—an adult, yes—”

“—and I do actually know how to speak to women!” 

Liam smirks. “Somehow I don’t think Ariel would agree.” 

“That was eight years ago, Liam! I was sixteen! And you know Ariel and I are friends now. You are literally the only person who ever talks about that anymore.” 

“Well—” 

“Do you know what your problem is?” Killian interrupts. 

“I only have one?” 

“The biggest of your many, many bloody irritating problems is that you refuse to see me as anything but a child. Not that you can’t you just won’t.” He sighs and runs a hand over his face. “I wish I knew how to make you.” 

Liam feels a pang of guilt. He does rag on Killian quite a lot, it’s true, but it comes from a place of love. He’d been solely responsible for raising his brother from a time when he was barely more than a boy himself, and he loves Killian fiercely. He just doesn’t quite know how to express it. 

“Hey,” he says, hooking his arm around Killian’s neck and ruffling his hair again. “Don’t be like that, little brother. I’m sorry.” 

Killian pulls out of Liam’s grip and makes an ostentatious show of smoothing down his hair. “Sure,” he says. 

Liam feels bad, and he doesn’t like it. “So, um, why don’t you show me what you’ve been working on?” he says, hoping this will distract Killian from the previous teasing. 

It does. Killian brightens instantly. “Really?” he says. “You actually want to see it?” 

“Of course I do.” 

Liam doesn’t quite understand Killian’s project; it involves lots of complex equations and research into things that he never had the chance to study, but he’s immensely proud of his brother for being chosen to work on it. Killian is the youngest member of the team by a good ten years and his selection was a tremendous honour. Liam nearly burst with pride when he heard of it. 

Not that he would ever tell Killian that. 

Killian’s face is eager as he shows Liam the research he’s been doing and the presentation he’s preparing for the King and the Royal Council. Liam smiles and nods and lets him talk, his mind wandering.

-

Two days later Liam is back at the palace on business and he decides to see if Killian is free for dinner. He knocks on the door of the quarters his brother shares with the other members of the research team, who inform him that Killian isn’t there. 

“He’s not around here much,” one of them says, with a knowing smirk. “I mean, I wouldn’t be either, in his shoes. Lucky git.” 

“Can’t remember the last time he actually slept here,” adds another. “He ‘works late’ a lot.” The man makes quotation marks in the air with his fingers. “I’m guessing right now he’s busy ‘working’ real hard, you know?”

Liam does not, in fact, know. He has no idea what they could be talking about but it’s clear they think he does and so he plays along. 

“Right. Well, er, better luck next time, I guess.” 

He walks back to his ship, wondering what on earth Killian could be doing with his evenings if he’s not spending them in his quarters. Surely he’s not actually still at the library? 

That lad needs to get himself a girl, Liam thinks. If only he would agree to a date with Tink.

- 

The following Thursday is the day of Killian’s big presentation to the Royal Council. Liam arrives a few minutes early, thinking he might have to help calm his brother’s nerves. He takes a seat in the council chambers and looks around for Killian but he is nowhere to be seen. 

Then the door opens and Killian arrives, quite at his ease as he greets the council members and bows to the king. Liam frowns. He expected his brother to be cripplingly nervous, flushing and stammering through his presentation, but the reality could hardly be more different. Killian stands confidently at the lectern, looking older than his years—when did his facial hair get so thick, Liam wonders—and when he begins to speak his voice is deep and calm, with a note of authority Liam has never heard in it before. 

The crowd is riveted, hanging on his every word. The other members of the project team, the Royal Council, none can take their eyes off him. The king is actually taking notes, nodding to himself as Killian speaks. 

Liam catches a glimpse of Princess Emma sitting near the back of the chamber. She’s not officially on the Council though of course she is heir to the throne and so he’s not surprised by her presence at an important event. He is a little bit thrown by the look on her face, though. It’s soft and a bit awed, with shining eyes and flushed cheeks and a sweet smile on her lips. He’s never seen her look like that before.  

Killian concludes his presentation and opens the floor to questions from the audience. There are many, more than Liam anticipated, but Killian handles them all with aplomb, giving knowledgeable, definitive answers and not flinching even when the king himself challenges some of his conclusions. Killian stands straight with his shoulders square as they debate, and Liam gets the strangest feeling that both he and the king are enjoying themselves. 

Liam is proud. He’s always been proud of his little brother, of course he has. Of course he knows that Killian is smart and tough and hard-working, but this—this is a new kind of proud. Like he’s seeing his brother as a peer, for the first time. 

When the presentation is officially over Killian mingles a bit in the crowd and Liam debates going to speak with him. He wants to tell his brother about this new pride he’s feeling, but he’s not sure if he can find the words or if this is really the time or place. But then he sees Killian heading off through one of the council chamber’s side exits and thinks he might take the opportunity to catch Killian and have a few words in private, and so he goes to follow his brother out the door. 

So does Princess Emma. Liam bites his lip to stop his smile when he sees her heading for the same exit through which Killian just disappeared. Because yes, he did just realise that he might need to start treating Killian as more of an equal but that doesn’t change the fact that he’ll always be a big brother and he can’t help wanting to witness Killian stammer and blush when he runs into the princess. 

He slips through the door and follows Emma until she turns a corner, then hurries his pace a bit so as not to lose her.  

“Well,” he hears her say as he approaches the corner. “Fancy meeting you here, Lieutenant.” 

Liam halts just before the turn, waiting for Killian’s stammering reply. Instead he hears something that has his jaw dropping in astonishment. Killian’s voice, pitched lower than usual and with a flirtatious note in it that Liam has never, not even in his wildest dreams, imagined he might hear from his own little brother. 

“What a remarkable coincidence,” Killian replies. 

“Isn’t it just.” 

“Whatever shall I do with you, princess, now I’ve discovered you here in this very dark corridor?” Killian growls. 

“I’m sure you’ve got a few ideas.” Emma’s voice is breathless. “Brilliant man like you.” 

“Oh I do love, I absolutely do. Though I confess they all require you to be wearing rather fewer clothes.”

“Those are my favourite ones,” Emma gasps, then Liam hears the unmistakable sound of kissing. 

They’re kissing. His brother and the princess. They’re just around the damned corner bloody well making out and flirting and talking about sex. 

Sex. 

His brother. 

And the princess. 

The princess. 

The king’s daughter. 

Is talking about sex. 

With his brother. 

What 

What 

Whaaatttt

Liam’s jaw lolls and his throat works, his Adam’s apple bobbing furiously, but no sound comes out. He doesn’t know what noise he’d even make if he could, he certainly isn’t capable of forming any words. He sidles up to the edge of the wall and pokes his head around the corner, just far enough to get visual confirmation of what he still can’t believe he heard. And there it is. There they are, wrapped up in each other with her back pressed against the wall and their mouths fused together. 

Liam was almost hoping that it had all been some insane mistake, that maybe there was another lieutenant waiting in the corridor for the princess and speaking with his brother’s voice. But no. That’s Killian, unmistakably him. It looks like him and sounds like him, everything is him except that this man—yes, man—is kissing and flirting and making some pretty damned blatant allusions to sex. With the princess. Sex that he—that they—ack

Argh 

Ermmmbbgggggghhhhhh

Liam’s brain makes a noise like an old dial-up modem as he watches Killian’s mouth leave Emma’s to trail sucking kisses down the neck she arches back for him, watches as his brother’s hand slides up the bloody royal thigh and under the hem of her dress and between—no. No, he can’t. He can’t see that. He can’t think it. He. Just. Can’t. 

“Fuck.” Emma gasps, rolling her hips against Killian’s hand. “Fuck, Killian.” 

“That is definitely the aim here, love.” 

“Oh, God,” Emma moans. “We can’t do this here.”

“Can’t we?” 

“No, we can’t.” 

No you bloody well can’t, Liam’s brain screams. Please, please, please stop doing this here! 

Emma pushes Killian away and he takes a step back, giving her a smirk that is positively lewd as he slowly licks his fingers. She smirks back, completely unfazed, and saunters towards him with a swing in her hips, hooking her own fingers under the waistband of Killian’s uniform trousers. Trousers that Liam absolutely, positively refuses to notice are tented. Impressively tented. Like perhaps Killian is right to object to being called little brother.

WHYYYYYYYYY wails his brain. 

“Why don’t you come back to my place, sailor, and ravish me properly,” she purrs, and Killian puts his hand on her arse—her arse—his brother’s hand is on the princess of their bloody realm’s arse—(it was someplace far worse a minute ago, but his brain shrivels a bit and warning klaxons begin to shrill in his head before he can think too much about that)—and Killian’s fingers are tracing the curve of the arse in question and curling around the princess’s hip as they head off towards her apartments, bodies moving together in the kind of perfect harmony that suggests that when they fuck it’s hawt. 

Nonononononononononononononooooooooooooooo Liam’s brain is in full meltdown mode now, alarms shrilling and screens flashing error messages and he just. Cannot. Compute. 

He was prepared, almost very nearly prepared, to acknowledge that Killian is a grown man now, one well on his way to an impressive career and who has earned the respect of his colleagues and his king. But this—when—how did his shy and nerdy little brother become smooth enough with women to pull a bloody princess? 

Where is the blushing? The stammering? The tripping over his own feet? 

Where???

-

The next day Liam visits Killian in the library again, finding him sitting quietly at a desk with his brow furrowed as he reads from a large, leather-bound book. His uniform is pristine and his hair tidy, and his reading glasses are slipping down his nose. Liam clears his throat and Killian looks up, his face creasing with a grin. 

“Liam! I was hoping you’d drop by. I didn’t get a chance to talk to you after the presentation yesterday.” 

“No. I, er. Um. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s all right.” Killian waves his apology away. “I left a bit earlier than I was anticipating, actually. Something came up.” 

Liam looks at him carefully to see if this is meant to be a joke, bitterly recalling how twenty-four hours ago it would have never even occurred to him to wonder whether Killian might be making a crude innuendo about his penis. Such a thing would have been as inconceivable as the idea of his brother even carrying on a conversation with Princess Emma, much less—

Killian’s smile begins to fade and Liam pulls himself together, claps his brother on the shoulder. “You did well yesterday,” he said. “I was proud of you.” 

Killian flushes with pleasure. “Thank you, brother,” he says. “It means a lot to hear that from you.” 

That blush is what does it. It’s so familiar, too familiar, and with everything Liam now knows about Killian he simply cannot reconcile these two versions of him, his easy-blushing brother and Princess Emma’s lover and—

“You’re sleeping with her.” 

“I—what?” 

“The princess. You. I saw—and her. Kissing, and—and—how long has this been bloody going on?” 

“Ah.” Killian removes his glasses, folds them up, and places them in their case. He sets the case on the desk and stands, giving Liam a cool look that the elder Jones absolutely cannot meet. “I think perhaps we’d best discuss this someplace more private,” he says. 

He does not blush. 

Killian leads Liam out of the library and across the small, grassy quad that separates it from the royal living quarters. He nods to the guard at the entrance as they go inside and strides confidently through the maze of corridors to a door which he opens with a key that he selects from his own keychain. 

“Emma’s visiting hospitals today,” he says. “She won’t be back until late. We can talk here.” 

“This is—” Liam gulps. “This is the princess’s private apartments.” 

“Yes.” 

“To which you have a key.” 

“I live here. Not officially, of course, for the sake of the optics, but for all intents and purposes they are my apartments too.” 

“So then it’s not—not just—” 

“Not just sex?” Killian smirks. “No. We’ve been together about three years and it’s serious. I plan to marry her.” 

“But—you can’t marry a princess! You’re a—” 

“A lowly lieutenant in her father’s navy? Aye. And I certainly couldn’t marry her in that capacity. But as a valued and trusted adviser on the Royal Council? That would be rather a different story.” 

Liam feels comprehension begin to dawn. “That’s why you wanted to work on this project,” he says.  

“That’s why I wanted to work on this project,” Killian confirms. “And of course, it gives us a chance to live together normally, without attracting attention. Just to be absolutely certain this is what we want.” 

Liam collapses onto a sofa, utterly gobsmacked. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?” he whispers. 

“Would you have listened?” Killian sits down next to him. “Would you have believed it? All you ever do is tease me and treat me like I’m still sixteen. How would you have reacted to the news that I was dating Emma if you hadn’t seen us together with your own eyes?” 

Liam is silent. He’s ashamed of himself and for once he allows himself to fully feel that shame. Killian is right. He has treated his brother as a child, even though he clearly isn’t one anymore. Not just because of his relationship with the princess but because of his accomplishments in his career and the impressive future he has ahead of him, as a Royal Councillor and someday the Prince Consort. 

Liam could not be prouder. 

“You’re right,” he says after a long silence. “I wouldn’t have listened, and I wouldn’t have believed it. But I will now, both those things. Will you tell me the story? How you met Emma and how you fell in love? And—when you have time I’d love to see more about your project.” He clears his throat. “Actually see it, I mean, and do my best to understand.” 

Killian smiles, wide and delighted. It’s the smile of the boy Liam solemnly promised to take care of all those years ago, and it’s the smile of the man that boy has become. 

“I’d love to, brother,” he says. 

-

@thisonesatellite @ohmightydevviepuu @stahlop @mariakov81 @katie-dub @kmomof4 @teamhook @donteattheappleshook @darkcolinodonorgasm @xhookswenchx @snidgetsafan 

#cs fic #cs ff #cs ff au #modern au #royalty au #modern royalty #captain swan #lieutenant duckling #brothers jones #error: 404 #profdanglaisstuff

[anangelicday-mrwolf]

Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)

(previous chapter)

Chapter 60 – Help out of Nowhere

“Sir Rael?!”

“What are you doing here?!”

Contrary to the daze in their huge eyes, Tao’s and M-21’s voices spoke of glee, although they were too occupied at the moment to show any welcoming gesture.

As much as Rael was braced for what he was beholding, things only took the worse turn throughout his race towards KSA, which is why the distortion in his face intensified as he neared his destination.

Now that he finally entered the heart of the calamity, he was appalled to find the perfect example of chaos.

There was cataclysm in every corner his eyes could meet; Tao, M-21, and Takio, now somewhat used to the discord, eyed what Rael was holding at either side of his arms, which made their eyes expand for the second time.

“M-mr. Jang?!”

“What happened? What’s with that look?”

“And who’s this...? His attire tells me he’s one of yours.”

“...Long story. Let’s save it for later. First of all, I need you to do something about this one. He’s burnt badly.”

Tao said no more, as he was already aware of how Yuhyung was grunting non-stop, and he swiftly led Rael to the KSA lab.

“I did what I can at the moment, but he’s gonna need full check-up and heavy treatment, since it’s obvious the fire that burned him is no ordinary sort. I’ve never seen such serious burn ever since my departure from the Union.”

Tao muttered, after cloaking Yuhyung from head to toes with a spray specially made for burns.

Just as he pointed out, Yuhyung, even though he was grunting less, still looked like he was in pain, enough to make the bystanders worry that he might kick the bucket as soon as they take their eyes off him.

Unfortunately, they were not given more time to care about the human.

“Krr...”

“Kraah!”

They have been binding the modified agents, employees, and civilians and holding them captives, using the lab as a temporary concentration camp.

However, they were beginning to wonder if the gas in the missile was embedded with zombie virus, for the modified humans did not cease to shove themselves into their eyes.

Shifting away from Rael (whose eyes for some reason were fixed on Yuhyung), Tao, Takio, and M-21 had to dedicate themselves in stopping the group of people that crawled their ways into the lab.

“By now these people would have spread throughout Seoul. I’m sure this isn’t the only place going through this catastrophe at the moment.”

“But we dare not leave this place. Which is nuts.”

“This will never end if we stick to this measure. We need a solution – a more fundamental solution.”

“Isn’t there any antidote for this phenomenon? If Union came up with a rapid body transformation, I’m sure they had devised something that undoes it at an accelerated rate.”

There’s no way Union would have completed a technology without any safety gear, objected M-21’s face.

Yet they knew that what M-21 was asking for was more than hope – it was a miracle that he was demanding.

“Even if there is such technology, it’d take time for us to apply it for actual use, at none other than a time like this!”

Tao flung himself towards the two of the captured humans, who were squirming away from their original spots.

M-21 did have a point, however – the founding cause of this disaster is the rapid body transformation that took over people.

The most effective solution, therefore, would be to counterwork their body modification.

And of course, they had no idea where and how to obtain the technology needed.

Nevertheless, there is a reason why hope is meant to shine at the darkest moment; a solution was given to them so very absurdly and suddenly.

“Tao! Take a look at this!”

The man’s head rotated right away; it was only on a rare occasion that Rael would address him with his name.

The noble who was away from the skirmish so far unbenched himself with something: a notebook in one hand and a palm-sized kit in the other.

“What’s this? Where did you...”

Perplexed, Tao directed his gaze towards where Rael just sprang from, and understanding smeared across his face.

He concentrated on the notebook, to soon enough lift his shuddering eyes from the papers.

Compared to his eyes that were ridiculously far from calm, his lips were curved in an unmistakable sign of hope.

“I-is this true?!”

“Beats me. But it’s worth a shot, don’t you think?”

“What? Tao, what is it?”

Asked Takio, who was immersed in a battle with empty hands for once.

“Guys, I need you to buy me some time! Perhaps we’d be able to settle this once and for all, in one go!”

Immediately, the three pairs of eyes flashed from three gorgeous faces.

As Takio, Rael, and M-21 were chasing and arresting the modified humans, not at all dwindling in number and thus giving them impression that there was duplication instead of infection behind all this, Tao frantically whipped his way all over the lab for essential kits and parts.

He snatched away Yuhyung’s bag, luckily in one piece despite the fire, stationed right next to the table serving as Yuhyung’s bed, to go ahead and put his fingers to violent labor as he fidgeted with Yuhyung’s machine, with desperation that was by no means behind the one he harbored during Crombel’s nuclear missile incident.

After who-knows-how-long, Tao raised his voice to let his party know that he was ready.

“Get over here! We’ll need to brief this!”

All men practically threw themselves upon Tao within a second, and the latter wasted no time in explication.

“This is called a GC chip. Simply put, it’s a biochip meant to carry DNA information. And the weapon charged with this chip will target only the creature from which the DNA information was taken.”

“Is this part of Union’s scientific arts? Where did this come from out of blue?”

“We’ll talk about this later. Right now we have to use this thing and...”

Tao’s face abruptly stiffened, his hand thumbing over the last pages of the notebook.

The change was so brisk that Takio, M-21, and Rael could not help plunging their faces into the notebook.

“What? What’s the problem?”

“If this thing targets only the creatures that provided the DNA information, are you saying we must collect from every single victim their DNA information?!”

“...No. I already made adjustments regarding that part, so we only need single DNA that will function as the master key. When a human body goes through body modification, regardless of the intensity of the modification, it will inevitably go through genetic transfiguration, to beget artificial genetic factors. I can pinpoint and sample those common genetic factors that follow all types of body modification. But the thing is...”

Tao had to struggle to move his lips, as six pupils with varying contours and hues bored holes into him.

“We need high-class modified human’s DNA as a sample. Let me give you a rundown of the missile I’m about to launch with the GC chip injected: it will basically work as a neutralizer. I have turned the catalyzing components inside the gas to work exactly the other way, so this gas will neutralize, delete, and, most importantly, permanently exterminate the artificial gene factors in the victims. But human cells never stop diving for good unless their hosts are dead. So by now the victims’ bodies would be teeming with the gene factors from modification. In order to neutralize them all at once, I need DNA information so strong that it will not fail to cover every single gene factor.”

“Is it similar to how you need painkiller at least equal and hopefully stronger than the pain you seek to erase?”

“That’s close enough, M-21. Modified humans that have gone through elaborate modification would boast elaborate, supreme genetic information. So even with just a little bit of their DNA, I’d be able to wash off modification in the victims.”

“Well, then what are you waiting for?”

Takio rolled up his sleeve as he stepped up and offered himself, but Tao waved his head and grabbed his teammate’s arm.

“Takio, you and I received Dark Spear’s power from boss, remember? If the Dark Spear’s power is included in our DNA sample and end up passing onto the victims...”

“...What we’re sweating our behinds off for would be nothing but a child’s play.”

Takio shivered and stepped back, and M-21 was the one to take over the volunteering.

“Then what about me? My body is clean of Frankenstein’s power.”

“I’m afraid you’re not an option, either. As of now your physical makeup is close to that of a werewolf than that of a human. For this GC chip, we need genetic information of a modified human. There’s no guarantee that your genetic information would be compatible for the result we want.”

“...I guess it’s impossible for me to make myself available for the job, if it is a must that you base this missile on a modified human.”

Rael added, to which Tao nodded with despair.

Nobody denied that their standing was preposterously frustrating; they had the remedy right in their noses, but they could not bring themselves to use it.

Just when they were about to plummet into the despair of no exit or safety net, a call as light and bright as a ray of sun awakened them and brought them back to reality.

“Allow me.”

Yuigi clicked her way towards the four men, who flipped their eyes at her as if flipping a pancake.

“DNA from an ex-bodyguard of a Union elder would be more than enough to cure those people, right?”

Yuigi and Takio’s initial plan was to head to KSA together, but upon witnessing how every street and road, for pedestrians or not, were apparently plastered with modified humans, they decided to split up.

And Yuigi was supposed to mediate and control the modified people, so it was not surprising that Takio jumped out of his skin upon spotting her.

“Miss Raciela?! What are you doing here...?! Without you, the civilians...!”

“Don’t worry. You think I would have come without taking that into consideration?”

Yuigi nonchalantly shrugged and showed something in her hand.

It was a communicator, not much different in size from the ones used by the RK, but the founding three members of RK flinched upon recognizing the design.

It was a model adored by the Union.

Sure enough, the men opened their mouths wide when a voice resonated from the communicator.

<What’s your plan regarding these people?>

They were so very inclined to bark at him that he is surely thick-skinned, asking them what to do with the victims of rapid body modification.

Nonetheless, they put their rage aside for the moment, and they shared their plan with the GC chip with the 3rd Elder, to which he responded oh-so-casually.

<Go ahead. I happen to be holding all the victims in their places with my power.>

All the listeners beamed except Tao, who hurriedly tossed a warning.

“Wait – once this gas is detonated, it will surely take effect on you, too. The degree of your genetic completion is superior to that of Miss Yuigi, so your power won’t be completely gone. But there’s a chance that you will never get to exercise powers like before.”

Only silence existed beyond the communicator and at the lab, where variously colored hairs were nestled together.

<Which is why I must be the one to stay behind. You have a country, a city, a life to protect – you have someone’s life to protect. So you don’t want to replace me and lose your powers, do you?>

The RK’s mouths were instantly shut, for they did not expect the 3rd Elder to bring up Raizel in order to convince them to let him sacrifice himself.

Notwithstanding, both their silence and their conclusion were quickly met with an end.

“...Very well. Give us some time. We must collect as many victims as possible in a single location so that I can launch the missile only to that place.”

<Yuigi and I already took care of that. So I’d like to ask you to deliver for me only the victims within the KSA.>

The audience exchanged flabbergasted looks, for there was no denying that the 3rd Elder was truly willing to help them, but they lost no more time in carrying the modified humans they were safekeeping at KSA.

“Krgh...”

“Krrr...”

At the largest crossroads stood the 3rd Elder, pressing down modified people with his power.

Thanks to the aid from the KSA agents summoned in the middle of a night, the area was set as off-limits, because of which the agents and the 3rd Elder were the only people at the site.

“Now hurry up and get out of here. I’ll hold them.”

RK’s and Yuigi, after relaying the KSA agents not too far from them the evacuation message, turned around to look at the 3rd Elder just as they were about to leave.

“I’m fine. Just go ahead and do it. Consider it my atonement for unleashing such tragedy. Of course, I know that I am still far, far away from paying off for all of my sins.”

Realizing how his face was marred with determination and disconnection from something they could not name, they finally turned away, to give a signal for Tao, who was waiting to launch the missile sampled with Yuigi’s blood, and run towards KSA as if their lives were on the line.

Listening to Tao’s countdown until the missile’s arrival through his communicator, 3rd Elder smiled a bitter smile – a smile suggesting guilt, wholeness, and mysterious relief.

At last the count was downed to zero, and thick pearl-shaded gas flourished from the missile that speared the ground the 3rd Elder was keeping.

(next chapter)

This is what I saved Yuigi & introduced the GC chip for. XD I already planned a scene in which Yuigi steps in and saves the day during the brainstorming of this fic, and at last I got to post it. :D When Yuigi was first introduced in the original webtoon, I was excited about this suggestion that there is and will be something concerning Yuigi and Takio (because it meant Takio will be given more scenes and opportunities; I was kind of disappointed how he was shoved away from the spotlight since the end of the 2nd season of Noblesse). But in the end there was nothing that met my expectations, so I decided to give her a chance in my own fic. And there is a reason why the 3rd Elder had a change of heart, which I’ll talk about in the following chapters. Now that the trouble at Seoul is over, all that is left is Lunark’s battle, as well as the ending chapters of this fic. I shall do my best until this fic meets a grand finale. Thank you so much for staying until me now, and I hope you’d check out the final chapter of this fic as well. :)

#korean webcomic #korean webtoon #fanfic #noblesse #frankenstein #lunark #frankensteinxlunark #lunarkxfrankenstein #wolfsbane #Mr.Wolf #AnAngelicDay

[marsupials-of-mars]

Regicide

(A little bit of inspiration drawn from @sweetest-honeybee s Kingceit doodles)

What do you MEAN you won't?!" Deceit stood cold, frozen, immobile. He seemed to refuse to believe what they had just requested. "You can't just STOP! What about me?! About us?! What about what we had?!"

Roman attempted to avoid eye contact, but found it difficult once Remus had shoved him forward and ducked behind him.

"We just... we've been doing this so long now, and we all know it's not what anyone wants."

"Who knows that?! Who said I know that?! It IS what I want! It's what he wants!" Deceit bared his fangs as he shouted, a hiss from deep within his throat mixing with his words.

"But..." Remus peered over Roman's shoulder. "It's NOT what he want's. It's not because of you, he just doesn't want to BE anymore. He almost isn't him, and it's about to feel like an act to keep going."

"Then let him act!" Deceit gritted his teeth at his own words. They tasted sour in his mouth, but the thought of losing him for good was even worse. "I love him!"

Roman shook his head and reached out for Deceit's arm, but he quickly jerked it away. Roman sighed. "You won't love him. You loved him. But he's not gonna be the same anymore. I know it, Remus knows it, he knows it. And I know you know it. Trust us, it's less painful for everyone this way."

"Nothing could be more painful than this!" Tears sprang to Deceit's eyes. "You're KILLING him! You're MURDERING my King! And you expect me to just accept that?" The anger in his voice quickly drained until nothing was left but grief. "Please... I need him. I'm begging you, you know I don't beg..."

"I am partial to begging..." Remus met Roman's eyes and wiggled his brows.

"Cut it out! Not the time!" Roman sharply shoved his brother. Remus coughed and looked at his feet.

"Yeah sorry I uh... it's how I lighten the mood..." his voice was uncharacteristically soft and apologetic. He looked back up at Deceit. "We do care... but it hurts to be King. Like the bad kind of hurt, painful hurt. It's like trying to hold your head together as it's splitting down the middle." Remus demonstrated, a crack running down his skull and his head falling open to expose red goo and grey matter. Deceit jerked back. "But way less fun."

Roman chimed in: "Every time you see him, he's in pain. He hides it because he loves you but... it's getting unbearable. Remus and I, we're not parts of a whole in the slightest, and King can tell. We used to be the good and the bad, we could click together like puzzle pieces. But we're... rounded. And the pieces don't fit anymore."

Deceit clenched his fists and squeezed his eyes shut. "I... undersss.. ssstand. But.. pleasss..sse... at leassss-ss-st let me ssse-sssee him one lasss-st-st time? To sssay goodbye?" His voice broke. His hiss had worsened in his hysteria, each S a struggle, slowing his sentences to a sluggish pace, but the brothers were patient. It was the absolute least they could do.

"Um..." Roman wrung his hands nervously. "I-uh... we don't... I mean..."

"Of course we will! Ain't that right Lame-miserables?" Remus elbowed Roman sharply in the ribs without breaking eye contact with Deceit. "The least we can do!"

Roman looked up at Remus. He finally noticed something he hadn't before. Unmistakable love. His smile was anxious but soft, his gaze warm and sympathetic. It wasn't quite clear what kind of love it was, but Remus cared immensely, more than Roman had seen him care for anything in a long time. It clearly changed Roman's heart, because before he could stop himself he was agreeing.

"Yeah, of course we will, we want this to be as painless as possible for everyone."

"How long do I have?" Deceit grabbed Roman's shoulders. Roman had never seen him this emotional, without his usual calm collected exterior.

"Um..." Roman looked at Remus, who shrugged. "Ten..." Remus frantically gestured to raise the number. Roman grimaced but complied. "Twenty minutes. Twenty minutes to say what you need to say."

Roman had never known exactly what Deceit and King talked about. All he retained was a feeling, a distinct lack of the fear regarding Deceit that the other lights seemed to have. When Deceit acted tough or collected, Roman couldn't quite take what he was saying at face value, could feel his more personal motivation, the feelings Deceit had about his contributions.

He was overall more quick to open himself to Deceit's side, and from that he'd realized that Deceit must talk often with King about his deeper feelings and ideas. He would only open up like that to someone he felt extremely close to. He was very secretive in general, and the act of revealing even the smallest bit of personal information seemed incredibly intimate to him. Roman wasn't quite sure what Remus experienced from King, but he always assumed it might be similar.

"And then...?" Deceit gripped Roman's sash and twisted it around white knuckles. His eyes were pleading, hopeful.

"And then we're done." Roman gently lowered Deceit's hands. "I'm sorry."

"Monthly! How about monthy?! Every other month? Yearly?" Deceit looked to Remus.

"We... will think about it." Remus's smile was strained. He couldn't operate on the spot, pinned by Deceit's desperate stare. Roman had to be the bad cop, no matter how backwards it seemed.

"NO. We won't think about it. Do you REALLY want a relationship monthly, or every other month, or yearly, where you get twenty minutes with an in pain and slowly fading shell of who you really want to be with? You need to let him go, rip off that bandaid rather than slowly peeling it off over... who knows how long you want to keep this up?"

"But Remus just said-!"

"Remus is an idiot! You're hysterical if you're hung up on what he said!" Roman took Deceit's shoulder. "Look, don't think about this now. Just enjoy your last bit with him."

Deceit slowly loosened his grip and the desperation faded, replaced now by a sort of empty acceptance. "I... okay. Let me sssee him."

Roman nodded and looked to Remus. "Ready?"

Remus fell into Roman without a second thought, eager to give Deceit closure. His tentacles wrapped Roman's waist and shoulders and Roman resisted his instinct to recoil. He leaned in and touched their foreheads together. His brother's breath smelled awful and he could feel himself getting more disgusting by the second. His final thought, before he lost himself, was how relieved he was that would never have to bare a fusion again.

King woke with a splitting headache. He rubbed his temples as he slowly opened his eyes, the light sending more piercing pain through his skull.

"King!" He looked down in time to see Deceit barrel into him with open arms, knocking him to the ground.

"Woah! You're hardly a hugger..." He rubbed Deceit's back.

"I am when you're DYING jackass!"

King winced at the volume. "Aw, cmon, I'm not dying. I'm just... not gonna be around anymore."

"That's no different!"

Deceit pushed his face into King's sash and flicked out his tongue, drawing in his scent while he still could. King was the only one who knew most of Deceit's "embarrassing" habits and reflexes, though he tried to convince Deceit that they were adorable. In turn, Deceit was the only one who knew some of King's secrets, such as;

"I don't know what I'm going to do without you Tiberinus..." Deceit spoke softly and gripped King's sash.

"You're going to be the best goddamn side in the mindscape, you're going to get your points across, you're going to open yourself up, you're going to SMILE and you're going to do anything else you damn well please because you're DECEIT and your your own wonderful amazing sexy person."

Deceit scoffed. "Yeah, I'm sure..."

King stuck him with a stern look. "You're going to SMILE. Because you have the most radiant smile and the sickest fangs i've ever seen, and it's not fair that I'm the only one who gets to see that with any regularity. It's absolutely sinister."

"I'm sinister." Deceit hissed.

"No, honestly right now you seem pretty sniffly and cuddly. And in any case sinister people still gotta smile from time to time. Look at the joker."

"Oh, the joker! What a fun and convincing comparison!" Deceit rolled his eyes.

"You get what I mean though, I don't want to be the only one you can talk to because then you'll stop talking altogether. You have so many amazing things to say, and as much as I love being your outlet, if you keep plugging everything into a single outlet your house is bound to burn down. And if you only trust that one outlet and it burns out, you'll be some idiot sitting in the dark surrounded by perfectly functional outlets upset that you can't read your book. Comprendo? "

Deceit let out a lengthy sigh. "What if my lamp can only reach one outlet?"

"Then you move the lamp. You may get some weird shadows and you might have to sit at the other end of the couch. But you'll still be able to read."

Deceit slapped King's knee in frustration. "See?! You can come up with these perfect metaphors and figure out feelings so easily. I'm not good at that."

"Patton is good at that. And Logan, and sometimes even Roman and Remus. I don't get it from nowhere. You're gonna be okay."

"Who's going to act with me?"

"Roman."

"Who's going to help me when I'm sick?"

"Patton."

"Who's going to make me laugh?"

"Remus, Roman, Logan... they're funny if you ever tried talking to them. You need to think outside your tiny me-centered box. You just have to try a little. Honestly... this might be for the best."

Deceit bolted upright. "How can you say that?! How could this possibly be for the best?! You're DYING!"

"Okay, yknow what? I'm breaking up with you."

Deceit paused. "What?"

"I'm breaking up with you. Looks like you have to move on now. And you're not going to see me anymore. Because we're broken up."

Deceit blinked. "What are you doing?"

"Look, what's harder? Your beloved dying, or never again having to see that awful ex you hate? So I hate you, and we're through."

Deceit stared a moment before breaking into laughter. King relished the last time he'd hear that laugh.

"Fuck you!" Deceit shoved his shoulder.

"That's the spirit! I hate your guts!"

"Go to hell!"

"See you there!"

"I hope I do so I can kill you again!"

"You gotta kill me first you coward!"

Deceit fell into King's arms in fits of laughter.

"God I'm gonna miss you Tiber...I dunno if-"

"Nah. Not allowed. Chin up, Scales. You got this."

King suddenly felt a dampness on his chest. Deceit shook with sobs, gripping King's waist until it was almost painful. He placed a hand on Deceit's trembling back and trailed his fingers down his spine, softly, slowly, as he got it all out.

"Shhh... yeah, I know..." He wiped Deceit's wet cheek with his thumb.

"I don't want you to go... I know you think I can handle it, and I probably can I just... I still don't want you to leave me."

"I'm not going anywhere. I keep saying, it's not like I'm dying. I'll still be with you, and not even in a cheesy spiritual way, all that makes me up is still inside Roman and Remus. I know it doesn't seem like me, and I know it's way different from talking to me, but I'll always be there. I'll know what you're up to and I'll be watching. In the creepiest way possible. So you'd better not mope around once I'm out of here because I see all."

"Comforting..." Though it was sarcastic, King could tell that he'd managed to calm Deceit a good amount. His head ached from being together so long. He looked up at the clock on the wall.

"Twenty minutes. Looks like it's time to- Ow! Shut up! We agreed- You're disgusting!" He gripped his head. Deceit looked up at him anxiously.

"Tiber? What's going on?"

"Ah, just... bickering." King forced a smile. "Twenty minutes is up and they really want to split."

"Oh." Deceit took a deep breath and wiped his eyes. "About that... does it really hurt you? Have you been hurting? And keeping that from me? I would have wanted you to tell me... this might have been less unexpected."

"Oh so you're the only one who gets to keep secrets?" Deceit pulled back at the jab and King felt immediately guilty.

"Sorry, I'm just... headache. I wanted to hold it together. I wasn't planning this, I thought I could handle it. Because I love you, and I didnt want to do this to you. But I finally realized that it would be unfair to both of us if I ended up something that... wasn't me. I know it was selfish...I had some warning, I helped make the choice, so I got a head start on the mourning. But you only get... twenty minutes..." King hissed at the sharp pain in his skull. Deceit studied his face.

"Honestly... truly and honestly... I wouldn't have wanted you to tell me sooner. That would have just prolonged the inevitable. I wouldn't have been able to enjoy what I did have with you without worrying that everything we were dojng would be for the last time. And there's no use being mad anyway, I've lost any time I would have had to teach you any lessons."

"Eh, I don't learn anyways. uGH SHUT UP!" King covered his mouth and squeezed his eyes tightly shut to ward off his headache. "Sorry... I need to go."

"I know." Deceit helped King to his feet and wrapped his arms around his waist. He stared a moment. "Know that every second I spent with you makes up for this moment."

"You sappy snake..." King leaned his forehead against the top of Deceit's head. "One more for the road?"

"Like I'd let you go without it."

King tipped Deceit's chin up with a knuckle. He savored his last look into his lover's eyes, one a radiant yellow and the other a warm honey brown. He tried to burn the image into his mind, wherever it would end up. Only once he was convinced that he had it did he lean down to meet Deceit's lips with his own.

For that moment, he forgot about the pain, and he could ignore the taste of salt on both their lips. It was bliss, the kind he would never have again, the kind that was so perfect that he didn't need to.

He felt his body begin to warm, then a buzzing, a tingling throughout his skin. His headache built to a dull pulse. He pulled Deceit tighter, for what he could tell was his final second.

And then he was gone.

Roman woke with tears on his face and a rapidly beating heart. He looked up, first at Remus, who was no better off then he was, then to Deceit.

He was trembling, fingers poised over his lips as though he were afraid to touch them directly. His eyes were vacant and upturned, as if he hadn't quite noticed that whatever he'd been looking at had since left his line of sight.

Roman debated, for a moment, whether to speak or to leave him to his own thoughts. After weighing his options, he decided on the latter. He looked to Remus, who had already lunged forward to wrap Deceit in a hug, and had been returned with a shaky hand slowly closed onto his back.

Roman gulped and made his way over. He let his knuckles brush Deceit's as a gentle invitation. Deceit quickly accepted, intertwining their fingers and squeezing tightly.

"Can you feel him?" Deceit's voice was nearly inaudible. "Is he there?"

Roman stared at Deceit's soft profile. A warmth grew in his chest, a feeling that could have been his, but not quite. And it was clear.

"Yes. And he loves you a whole lot."

A ghost of a smile pulled at Deceit's lips.

"I know."

#deceit sanders #king creativity #sanders sides #thomas sanders #creatwins #angst

[illfoandillfie]

Quiet In The Library

Pairing: (70s) Roger x Fem Reader

Summery: Roger visits Y/N at work.

Warnings: Dom!Roger, Public sex, oral (m receiving and f receiving), exhibitionism

Words: 2535

A/N:  I’m a librarian. I’m a bottom for 70s Rog. Sue me.  #bottomrights

He couldn’t be here. You’d only seen him briefly out of the corner of your eye, maybe you’d made a mistake? Please God, let you have made a mistake. Let it be literally anyone else, even the patron with the bad breath. Him you could handle. Christ, you specifically hadn’t told anyone in the band where you worked because you knew he’d pull this shit. You liked Roger, he was a sweet guy and a great shag, but the last thing you wanted was him to be here in your library. Partly because you knew he’d take the piss for your dowdy workwear, partly because you knew this would spark some sort of sexy librarian fantasy for him that not even the most unattractive uniform could dampen. Not that you hadn’t had those fantasies yourself, but if you were both here thinking about it the chance of you being fired for inappropriate conduct was much higher. Shit now you were thinking about it. You had to clench your thighs together and silently thanked god Roger couldn’t see your legs under your desk.

You glanced up from your work, praying it wasn’t Roger you’d seen, only to have your fears confirmed. Roger gave you a subtle wink as he walked over to the card catalogue and began pretending to search for something. You stood up from your desk and walked over to him, hoping that if you cut off whatever game he was playing, he’d leave you alone.   “Good afternoon sir is there anything I can help you with?” you said in your most professional voice. Roger just grinned back at you.  “Are you looking for a particular book?” you glanced around to make sure none of your co-workers were within earshot, “Perhaps you just got lost trying to find the exit?”  “Oh, no, I’m right where I wanna be,” He looked you up and down taking in every inch of your uniform – the bland white blouse, the knee length brown skirt, the sensible shoes. You tried to ignore the way he cocked his eyebrow at you and the growing pit in your stomach.  “What the fuck are you doing here Taylor?” you hissed. “That’s a bit rude. What happened to calling me sir?”  If you hadn’t been standing in the middle of a library you could have screamed. You were about to tell Roger to go fuck himself when you noticed your boss looking your way and you slipped back into customer service mode, “Well, sir, if you do require help locating any resources please don’t hesitate to ask.” With that you turned around, work appropriate ponytail bouncing, and grabbed the nearest trolley of returns, pushing it towards the back of the library. 

It was midday on a Tuesday, so the library wasn’t overly busy, thankfully. Most patrons were towards the front of the library anyway, looking through the fiction shelves or else playing with the microfiche. You specifically headed towards the non-fiction shelves where there was less chance of being overheard; if you were going to tell Roger to fuck off you couldn’t risk your boss hearing. You turned down an empty row of shelves – 570s, Biology – put the brakes on your trolley and slowly let out the breath you’d been holding. You knew Roger would follow you – you had felt his eyes on your bum as you walked away from him. You shook your head trying to get rid of the entirely inappropriate ideas you were suddenly having. About ten seconds later Roger joined you. You crossed your arms, trying to look as threatening as possible and waited for him to be close enough to hear you. “I’ll ask you again. What the fuck are you doing here? How did you even find out this is where I work?” you were whisper yelling, but Roger just seemed to find you amusing judging by his stupid fucking smile. “First of all, that’s not a very polite way to speak to a patron. Secondly, Bri let slip.”  “How the fuck did he find out?”  Roger shrugged, “Didn’t ask. Can’t believe you didn’t tell me though.” He was close enough to grasp the material of your skirt and begin to slowly drag it up. “The whole sexy librarian thing really works for you by the way.”   You rolled your eyes, trying not to let on how much his words affected you, but you could feel the blush creeping up your neck and you hadn’t made a move to stop his roaming hands. "Roger we both know these are literally the least sexy clothes I own.” He laughed quietly, continuing his quest to expose as much of your legs as possible while also running the fingers on his other hand up and down your side, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake, “and that’s not the point.”  “What is the point then?” He’d finally succeeded in lifting your skirt high enough that he could trace the outline of your pussy through your already damp underwear.  You clutched at his shoulders for support, catching some of his hair between your fingers. “The point,” Your voice was much breathier than before, “The point is that I’m at work and you shouldn’t be here,”   “I thought we we’re having fun.” He circled your clit with his thumb. You dropped your head against his shoulder as you felt yourself getting close, biting your lip to keep quiet. Suddenly he withdrew his hand, “But if you want me to go I will.”   “You complete and utter bastard,” “Think I preferred it when you called me sir." He leaned into your ear as he spoke, his voice low and rough, and his words hit you like a lightning bolt, “You want me to stay?” “Yes sir,” it was almost too quiet to hear, but it was enough for Roger.  “Christ, you make it so easy,” His fingers returned to under your skirt but this time they dipped beneath your underpants as well. Light teasing touches around your clit that were nowhere near enough. “I’ve barely done anything and you’re completely soaked for me, and y’know why?”  You shook your head.   Roger held your chin and tilted your face up so he could look you in the eyes, “It’s cos you’re a slut.”   Your whine was muffled as Roger covered your mouth with his hand.   “Uh uh uh, gotta be quiet in the library. Shouldn't have to tell you that.” Roger’s other hand was still teasing your pussy, slinding his fingers through your wetness and around your clit, never giving you quite enough. You closed your eyes trying not to whimper into the hand that still covered your mouth.  “Y’know seeing you like this, in your uniform, practically begging for me to make you cum, its driving me fucking wild. You’re such a needy slut. Got me so hard right now, there’s no way I could leave without someone noticing,” He pulled his hands away from your body wiping his wet fingers on the inside of your thigh “Think I’m gonna need that pretty mouth of yours to help me. If you’re a good girl and keep quiet I’ll let you cum.” You dropped to the carpet, desperate to please. 

You slid your hand up the inside of Roger's leg, eventually landing on the outline of his cock, and began stroking him over his jeans, teasing him the way he’d teased you, until you felt him grab the base of your ponytail in warning. You looked up at him innocently and bit your bottom lip as you undid his belt and fly, pushing his pants down until his cock sprang free. You couldn’t quite hear him but you were pretty sure he muttered the word ‘Christ’ as he watched you lick a line up the underside of his shaft, before taking his tip into your mouth. You lowered your eyes and bobbed up and down, adjusting to his size, your hand wrapped around his base. Roger’s hand was tangled in your hair and his breath was ragged as you licked around his tip, before taking him back into your mouth as far as you could manage without gagging. The fear that someone was going to overhear you was constantly in the back of your mind, making your heart beat faster, but Roger was letting you control the pace which made you less worried. Suddenly you heard a noise that made you pause. You pulled off of Roger and looked up at him panicked when you realised it was someone in the row next to yours. Roger held a finger to his lips, signalling you to stay quiet, and pushed you back down onto him.  Your eyes were wide with worry as you continued to bob your head, watching Roger for any sign that the person was getting closer, but you had to admit it was a huge turn on. Roger certainly seemed to agree. He kept one eye on the person in the next row and one on you as he snapped his hips up, pushing himself further into you and making you gag. Every time you let a noise escape, he’d tug on your hair, another warning to control yourself. You could see he had his lip between his teeth in an effort to muffle his own gasps and whines.  

Eventually you heard muffled footsteps retreating as the person in the next row left, Roger pulled you from him and held you by the ponytail as he leaned down and growled into your ear.  “You better hope they left because they found what they were looking for. That they didn’t notice you being a slut and went to find your boss. I’m gonna fuck your mouth for real now, and you’re gonna swallow all my cum like a good girl, isn’t that right?”   You nodded, afraid that anything you said would be too loud. Roger slammed his cock back into your mouth, using his grip on your ponytail to push you down onto him before pulling you back up again rapidly. You were a gagging, whimpering mess. Saliva dibbled from the corners of your mouth, your hair was falling out of the neat ponytail it had starting in, and your eyes filled with tears causing your makeup to run. Roger kept control of you, treating you like nothing more hole for him to use. His grip on your hair got tighter as he got closer to his release, causing you to moan around his cock.   “Taking me so well” he said softly as he pushed you down once more and held you there as his orgasm hit, his cum sliding down your throat and coating your tongue. Your chest was burning when he finally pulled you off, letting you drop to the floor, heaving for air.  

Roger gave you a minute to catch your breath and wipe your chin while he tucked himself back into his jeans, before hauling you back up to your feet.  “Show me,”  You stuck out your clean tongue.   “Good girl.” He wiped the remaining tears from your eyes before continuing, “Think you deserve to cum?”  “Please sir, I was good.”  “I don’t know. I told you to be quiet but you didn’t do a very good job. Could have got us caught. But maybe you would have liked that.”  “That’s not fair sir, you made me gag! I would have been quiet but you made me gag.” You kept your voice as quiet as possible but you felt ready to throw a tantrum at the injustice of his suggestion.   “You’re sounding like a bit of a whiny brat right now.”  “Please! You said I took you so well and I was a good girl and I swallowed and I need to cum so bad please.”  “I do like it when you beg.”  You weren’t sure whether or not that meant Roger was going to give in, until he lifted you up to sit on top of the trolley and pushed your legs apart. He bunched your skirt up at your waist so you could watch him pull your underpants down to your ankles. He didn’t waste any time before he had two fingers running between your folds.  “If I hear a single noise from you, I will stop.”  “Yes sir, thank you sir.”  His fingers, once again soaked from how wet you were, pushed inside you at the same time he bent down and licked a line up your slit. You had to cover your own mouth to stop any noise escaping as his fingers increased their pace and he began lapping at your clit. He was going wild, eating you out like it was the last thing he’d ever do, and you couldn’t look away. There was something about seeing him between your legs, here where you worked, that was so insanely erotic. Roger’s eyes caught yours and you had to bite down on your knuckles to stop from moaning. You could feel him smirking against you as your free hand landed on the back of his head, pushing him into you. You could feel the pit in your stomach tighten with every swipe of his tongue and pump of his fingers, hitting the perfect spot and pushing you closer to your edge. His lips latched on to your clit and sucked. Your toes curled and it took all your energy not to scream around your knuckles. Roger continued his ministrations as you rode out the orgasm.  

“Fuck” you whispered in between deep breaths, “I can’t believe we just did that.”  Roger chuckled softly as he helped you back to your feet. He took your hand and examined the knuckle you’d been biting down on. “Surprised you didn’t draw blood,” You pushed his shoulder playfully before pulling your underwear back up and readjusted your skirt.   “Can’t believe I have to go back out and work now. How do I look?”  “Kinda like you just sucked dick in the back of a library”  “Fuck, Rog, how am I gonna go back out there. There’s no way to get to the bathroom without walking through the main area.”  But Roger was already on it. He licked his thumb and began rubbing at the mascara lines under your eyes and on your cheeks. He then spun you around so he could untie what was left of your ponytail, run his fingers through your hair to smooth it down and retie it.   “Sorry I can’t do more, but that should look tidy enough to get you to the bathroom where you can fix yourself up properly.”  “Thank you,” you breathed out, wrapping your arms around him and leaning into his chest. His arms came up around you and he spoke into your shoulder.  “Shit, no, I messed up your hair and makeup in the first place.” He pulled back from the hug, dropping a quick kiss to your lips, “Probably should have thought about that before I pushed you to your knees.”  “No harm done. Plus, y’know I like it when you pull my hair. I had fun”  “Good. I’m glad.” He leaned back down right next to your ear, “Next time I’m going to fuck you properly though.” 

#roger taylor smut #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor imagine #queen fanfic #queen smut #my fics #this goes out to everyone who wants 70s rog to top them! #you are vaild !! #We Are Valid !!! #come and get your rights !!! #I will not stand for the bottom discrimination on this site #(i also have a squeal half written as well lmao #so look forward to that)

[per-ineptia-ad-astra]

Star Trek Episode 1.13: The Conscience of the King

AKA: The Devil Hath Power to Assume A Pleasing Shape: A Thesis 

Our episode begins with a man being stabbed, which as dramatic openings go is certainly a bold one—though the reaction of the man being stabbed looks rather more like he just hit his funnybone than got knifed in the chest. The man doing the stabbing—a gray haired chap in nonspecific Fancy Old Clothes—puts a bit more effort into it, looking down at the blood now covering his hands with some amount of consternation.

Before the audience at home can start wondering if they accidentally tuned in to Masterpiece Theatre by mistake, we see Kirk, watching this from some comfy seating nearby, because it is, of course, actually a play. Macbeth, to be precise. The guy sitting next to Kirk tells him to watch Macbeth, presumably for a more serious reason than because Macbeth is the main character of the play so you’re kind of supposed to be paying attention to him.

Macbeth goes about his business, exiting through a nearby flat that I have to say looks like it was made for a middle school production, and monologuing to Lady Macbeth, as one does. In the audience, Kirk’s friend, still serious and intent on the scene before him, says that he knows that man’s voice. It’s the voice of Kodos...the Executioner. Judging by his tone I’m going to assume that he’s not just talking about another credit on the guy’s IMDb page.

After the titles, we see the Enterprise circling around a planet while Kirk gives a captain’s log, telling us that they diverted from their planned course to go check on one Dr. Thomas Leighton—Kirk’s friend at the play-- who claims he’s discovered a new synthetic food source that could end the threat of famine a nearby colony is dealing with. But we then immediately see that things are not quite as they seem. Down on the planet, Kirk is talking to Leighton, and he’s not happy. It seems that in fact, the real reason Leighton had the Enterprise diverted was so that he could tell Kirk about the actor that he thinks is this Kodos guy. In fact, he’s very sure Macbeth is Kodos, so sure that he lied to Kirk about the food discovery just to get him to come over there—which, as Kirk points out, has put both Leighton and Kirk in trouble. Kirk also points out this guy probably isn’t Kodos because Kodos is dead. Oh. Hm. Yeah, that does tend to complicate things.

Leighton thinks there’s still a chance Kodos is alive because the body that they found was too badly burned to be really sure. Kirk says this whole thing has been over and done with for years but Leighton wants to reopen the case. And quite a serious case it is, too—4,000 people dead. (It is, incidentally, some not half bad exposition; despite both characters effectively reiterating things they already know to one another, it comes off as pretty natural.) Kirk asks Martha, Leighton’s wife—well, I presume she’s his wife, and not just a random woman hanging out at his house—to talk some sense into him, but she says she can’t, he’s been in a snit about this ever since the actors showed up.

Kirk repeats that Kodos is dead and he’s satisfied with that, but Leighton says he’s not. He remembers too well what Kodos was like, what he did—and as he says this, he turns his head to the camera to reveal that his right eye and most of the right side of his face are covered in a black patch.

[ID: Leighton, a white man with short brown hair and one brown eye seen from the neck up and looking off to the side grimly. He has a black fabric covering over the right side of his face, extending into a patch that covers his eye.]

Leighton pleads with Kirk to help him. Less than ten people ever saw Kodos in person—somehow--and Kirk and Leighton are two of them. Leighton needs Kirk to help him expose this actor for who he really is. But Kirk insists that Kodos is dead. Which is not really surprising; what would you do if someone invited you to come see a play and then leaned over and said, “Hey, you see that actor there? I’m pretty sure he’s actually Hitler.” You could be forgiven for a certain degree of skepticism. But Kirk’s tone throughout this scene indicates that things run deeper than that. He has a history with Kodos. This is personal to him. He’s not just dismissing Leighton because his claim goes against something that is commonly known to be true; he needs to believe that Kodos is dead and gone, and is personally unwilling to entertain any idea otherwise.

Seeing that he doesn’t have Kirk’s support on this, Leighton dramatically announces that if Kodos is dead then there will be a ghost in his home tonight--he invited the actors over, because this whole thing is a puzzle, and dammit, Jim, a true gentleman leaves no puzzle unsolved! And seldom have the words “I invited them over for a cocktail party” been said so ominously. Kirk doesn’t much care, though, and heads back to the ship, grumbling about the trouble he’ll have entering this in his log—although compared to the kinds of things Kirk usually has to describe in his log, you’d think this one would be pretty easy.      

But it seems Kirk is perhaps not so certain of things as he claimed, because we find him looking up Kodos in the library files, along with this suspicious actor, one Anton Karidian. The computer helpfully informs him, and us, that Kodos (I don’t know if that’s his first name or his last name or if he just went by one name, like Cher) was governor of a colony on the planet Tarsus 4, twenty years ago. The ‘executioner’ bit came in when he invoked martial law and killed half the colony, which does have a way of earning you a certain negative reputation. When backup from Earth arrived to sort things out, they found a body, but as previously mentioned it was too badly burned to be definitively identified, so it was just assumed that Kodos was really most sincerely dead.

Karidian, on the other hand, has been the director of this company of actors for the past nine years, traveling about as part of a galactic cultural exchange program. Also he has a nineteen year old daughter named Lenore. Man, this whole voice-operated computer thing sure is convenient. It’d be a lot harder to dramatically frame Kirk looking all this up on Wikipedia.

Before the computer can go into Karidian’s complete life history and theatrical appearances, Kirk interrupts and tells it to compare Karidian and Kodos. But the computer can’t, because there are no identification records on Karidian. Nor is there any information about Karidian before twenty years ago. It’s as if he just sprang up out of nowhere, right after Kodos died. Hmm. Leighton’s not sounding quite so paranoid anymore.

Kirk calls up side-by-side photos of Kodos and Karidian. They do look quite similar, albeit Karidian is a lot more gray in the hair. Suspicious—but just looking like a dude isn’t evidence that you are that dude. They could be distant relations or something.

[ID: An over the shoulder shot of Kirk looking at a small computer screen on the table in front of him. The screen is showing two images side by side, one of a red-haired white man with a goatee, the other an older white man with gray hair and a mustache.]

There is, in case you were wondering, absolutely no information given about how Kirk was involved in this whole thing or what he was doing on Tarsus 4 in the first place. Originally I believe the episode was supposed to say he was stationed there as a young midshipman, which would make sense, but that got cut out, and the later information we get about Kirk’s age would make him thirteen at the time—and Starfleet might recruit young, but they don’t recruit that young. So the question of just how Kirk got from Iowa to Tarsus 4 is, like so many things, left up to the EU. And the question of what impact that traumatic event had on Kirk is left up to fanfiction, because lord knows the show will never revisit it again.

While Kirk is sitting there glumly staring at the pictures, Spock walks in on him, which is what happens when you use a random conference room to do your morbid internet searches instead of doing it in your room like a sensible person. Kirk asks Spock what he thinks of Leighton, if he’s the sort of man who’s prone to bouts of fantasy. Spock says that Leighton’s a good, reputable scientist, not presumably known for any tendencies to accuse random people of committing genocide. He also tells Kirk that they’re ready to leave orbit, but Kirk says to delay that for a little bit—he’s got a cocktail party to go to.

Down at the party Kirk is mixin’ and minglin’ with the actors, but Leighton himself is nowhere to be seen. Martha tells Kirk that Leighton went out to town, presumably to get more chips or something. In the meantime, everyone seems to be out on the patio, conveniently out of camera range, but as Kirk wanders into the house he encounters that most rare and stunning of creatures, a woman. Kirk immediately turns up the good ol’ Kirk charm and introduces himself, chatting with the lady about her performance. She says her father is the leader of the company, which would make her Lenore, the daughter of Karidian the computer mentioned. The nineteen year old daughter. Maybe, uhhh, turn down the flirting there a bit, Kirk?

Kirk says he was hoping to meet Karidian himself, but Lenore says that her father has a strict rule about never meeting anyone personally or attending parties. He’s the leader of a theatre company and he never meets anyone personally? That’s got to make networking a challenge. If Kirk can’t talk to Karidian himself, though, he might as well talk to Karidian’s daughter. He asks about their travel plans, compliments her on her performance as Lady Macbeth (personally I think it’s a mite weird for a nineteen year old to be playing Lady Macbeth opposite her dad as Macbeth, but stranger things happen in show business I guess), and says he’d like to see her again—not necessarily professionally. Lenore says she’d like that, but they must keep a schedule, to which Kirk points out that she doesn’t have a schedule right now, convincing her to go out for a walk with him. I’m just gonna sit here and pretend that Kirk isn’t chatting up a nineteen year old. It does help somewhat that she doesn’t look or act like a nineteen year old in any way.

So they go out for a stroll ‘n’ flirt, and Lenore comments on how Kirk is a bit different when he’s not around a lot of other people that he has to act all captainy for. Then she goes in for a kiss, but Kirk is distracted at the last second by the sight of a body crumpled against the rocks nearby. That’ll kill the mood, alright.

Kirk runs to investigate. It’s grim news—the body is Leighton, and he’s dead. And he didn’t bring any chips back.

Next thing we see, Leighton has been brought back to the house, where Martha mournfully lays a cloth over his face. Aw, dangit, guys, you’re not supposed to move the body until CSI gets there! We’ll never find out who killed him now. But it does seem that he was indeed killed, which raises the question of why someone would kill him if his suspicions about Karidian weren’t true. The obvious answer that maybe his suspicions were true hangs in the air, but all Kirk says is that he’ll try to find out what happened. He gives poor Martha a rather perfunctory hug before she exits, leaving him alone with Leighton.

After a moment, Kirk calls up to Uhura and asks her to put him through to John Daley, the captain of the Astral Queen—a ship that Lenore mentioned the company was planning to hitch a ride on. Turns out that Kirk and Daley are buddies and Daley owes Kirk some favors, which Kirk is about to cash in on. He asks Daley not to pick up the theatre company, saying the Enterprise will do it instead, and Daley is perfectly happy to abandon his passengers without any questions. Looks like Kirk’s up to something.

He goes back up to the ship, where Spock soon comes over to tell him that they’re ready to leave. But Kirk says to hang on for a minute, because they’re due for a pickup. Spock’s naturally a bit confused about this, but right on cue, Uhura says that Lenore’s just come aboard asking to talk to Kirk. Man, it sure is easy to get onto the Enterprise. All you have to do is invite yourself up.

Kirk tells Uhura to have Lenore come up to the bridge. Spock wants to know how in the heck Kirk knew Lenore was coming. Kirk is not helpful.

[ID: Kirk sitting in the captain’s chair on the bridge and saying, “I’m the captain,” while Spock stands behind the chair with a rather confused look on his face.]

Lenore enters the bridge, all dressed up in...uh...I have no idea what this is. Looks sort of like a bathmat wrapped around her torso.

[ID: Lenore, a smiling white woman with blonde hair half piled up and half hanging loose, walking through the doors of the turbolift to the bridge. She is carrying a pocketbook with a dappled pattern and wearing sparkly translucent tights and a furry gray dress-like thing with a boxy shape, which extends from partway down her arms to just below her hips.]

Lenore tells Kirk that, oh dear, it seems that their ride isn’t coming, and they don’t have time to wait for another ship if they’re to keep their schedule, so could they hitch a ride on the Enterprise, pretty please? Which is a touch strange because in my experience lead actresses are not the people who make the transport arrangements. But I suppose the episode would have gone rather differently if it was instead a beleaguered stage manager who called up to say, “Listen, who do I need to bribe to get us a ride on this ship because I have got a goddamn SCHEDULE to keep and I will fight off Klingons with a STICK if that's what it takes to get us there in time. You've got to have SOME room up there. You need us to stay in the cargo bay the entire time? Fine. Solid. I'll rig up hammocks. Whatever it takes. I am NOT KIDDING about this schedule.”

Kirk dithers, saying it’s against regulations to pick up actors. Well, actually, all he says is that “the regulations are very clear” which could just mean that they’re not supposed to pick up anyone, but I’m choosing to believe that Starfleet has a specific mandate against actors. Lenore says that she’ll make a bargain: if Kirk will be so kind as to give them a lift, the company will put on a special performance for the crew. Well, I mean, it’s against the rules, but who can turn down free theatre? Not Kirk, who says it’ll be something nice for the crew; they’ve been doing boring patrols for quite a while and are starting to get a bit stir crazy.

After a bit of banter, Lenore leaves. Kirk seems quite pleased with himself, but Spock is, understandably, wondering what the hell just happened. His confusion only increases when Kirk tells him to set a course for the Benecia Colony, which as Spock points out is eight light years off course. Kirk, suddenly a lot less jovial now that Lenore’s gone, snaps at Spock to follow his orders. Which Spock does, but not without the Eyebrow of Disapproval.

Kirk gives a log musing on the situation—how he has a lot of questions right now and he’s not entirely sure he wants them answered. Some time later, as they’re underway to the colony, he takes over Spock’s chair to consult with the library computer some more.

Specifically, Kirk is wanting some information about the eyewitnesses Leighton mentioned—the small number of people who actually saw Kodos. Which he says out loud, to the computer, which responds to him, out loud, while he’s on the bridge in front of everybody. Smooth going there, Kirk. Great job keeping this investigation of yours a secret.

Apparently there are only nine people who can identify Kodos, which strikes me as a bit odd considering the guy was the governor of a whole colony. One would presume he would be pretty recognizable to most of the people in that colony, unless he went full evil overlord from the beginning and holed up secretively in a castle or something. Not to mention the people who must have known him before he became governor. But no, there were just nine people—and one of them was Leighton, so there’s only eight people now. One of them is Kirk, a few more are names we don’t know, and then there’s one K. Riley.

That catches Kirk’s attention. Would that be Kevin Riley, who’s currently assigned to the Enterprise? Yes, it is—somehow, totally by accident, two of these nine people wound up serving on the same starship. It’s a small infinity out there. (Riley is referred to as being in the ‘Star Service,’ yet another proto-name for Starfleet.)

Kirk calls Spock over and tells him that he wants Riley to be transferred down to Engineering. Spock points out that Riley came up through Engineering—he’s now in Communications; I don’t know how the qualifications for those overlap but evidently they do—and without an explanation he’ll surely take this sudden transfer as a punishment for something. Kirk only says he doesn’t want to talk about it.

But Spock’s had enough of all this weird behavior. It’s time to get a second opinion, and that means talking to McCoy. Spock and McCoy might disagree on just about everything it is possible to disagree on, but there’s one area where they can always find common ground, and that is Dealing With Jim.

McCoy’s a bit reticent about this one, though, since he hasn’t been around to see Kirk’s recent odd behavior and also is a bit preoccupied with having a drink. Which leads to an odd bit of dialogue: “My father’s race was spared the dubious benefits of alcohol.” “Oh. Now I know why they were conquered.” There’s no other mention in the series of the Vulcans ever being conquered, so it’s anyone’s guess what McCoy is talking about.

Anyway, McCoy figures that Kirk probably just invited the actors up because he took a liking to Lenore, which admittedly would not be terribly out of character for Kirk. He’s also not impressed by the news that Kirk had Riley suddenly transferred, since after all he’s the captain and he can do that if he pleases. But then, I doubt McCoy keeps up with any of the various crew movements that don’t immediately concern the medical department, so Riley’s transfer probably doesn’t stand out as anything especially unusual to him.

Meanwhile, Kirk is taking Lenore for a stroll around the ship, stopping in the observation deck to look out at the stars—although for an observation deck, it has some really tiny windows. Lenore recites “star light, star bright” and when Kirk says the rhyme is very old she says it’s “almost as old as the stars themselves.” Right, I guess growing up with a traveling company of actors didn’t leave much time for science class.

They swap innuendos about how full of surging, throbbing power the Enterprise is (yes, really), and then Kirk tries to tease out some information about Karidian. But Lenore deflects, saying she wants to know about the women in Kirk’s world and if the Enterprise has changed them, “made them just people instead of women?” one of those lines which was so obviously written by a man that it might as well have been accompanied by A DUDE WROTE THIS in flashing letters on the screen. Kirk says that no, the women are still women. What a relief.

While all this nonsense is going on up on the observation deck, Spock is alone on the bridge, brooding. Yes, alone. Sure, it’s nighttime by the ship’s clock, but one would expect there to be a night crew. Maybe Spock chased them all off for better brooding conditions. He asks the library computer—which is really getting a workout in this episode—to call up the histories of Riley, Leighton, Karidian, and Kirk, and to check them all for similarities.

Evidently he finds something there, because next we see him talking to McCoy again—still at night, but hey, I don’t think either of them sleep, except when being drugged by salt monsters. Spock is explaining to McCoy exactly what happened on Tarsus 4, finally letting us in on the details of the situation. Apparently a fungus destroyed the colony’s food supply, leaving eight thousand colonists with barely any food. Kodos responded by declaring martial law, and began to separate the colonists, deciding who would live, rationing the remaining food—and who would be executed, to free up resources for the rest. Apparently he had some ideas about eugenics, and used them to determine who was fit to keep living for the benefit of the colony and who wasn’t. Yeah, uh, that’s...that’s not going to win you the politician of the year award.

The result was, as could be expected, brutal. Relief ships showed up, but not in time to prevent half the colony from being executed. As we’ve already heard, they found a body, but couldn’t determine for sure if it really was Kodos. And now this Karidian guy has shown up, and funnily enough, his personal history begins rather abruptly and immediately where Kodos’s left off. It rather strongly points to Karidian being Kodos, and also rather strongly points to him being really bad at making up a new identity. You gotta backdate some records, invent a bit of personal history, some fake relatives, man, c’mon.

So now Spock thinks that Kirk is suspecting Karidian is Kodos, a point on which Spock agrees with him. But things are worse even than that, because Spock has also discovered that that list of nine eyewitnesses isn’t just down to eight: it’s down to two. All of them but Kirk and Riley are dead, and not only that, but every time one of them died, the theatre company was somewhere nearby. Looks like there’s something rotten in the state of...whatever state we’re in. McCoy seems to agree, because he’s looking a good deal more serious now than he was earlier.

We don’t get to hear much of what McCoy has to say about the matter, though, because the next thing we see is Riley, sitting alone down in Engineering and looking supremely bored. And yes, if you’ve been wondering, this is in fact the same Riley that we saw back in The Naked Time, taking over Engineering and relentlessly singing at everybody—a rare case of a recurring character in TOS who wasn’t one of the main cast. In fact, this was entirely accidental; the character wasn’t written as Riley, but when Bruce Hyde was cast for the part they realized he’d already had a named appearance on the show and figured, what the heck, might as well make it the same guy--which is either a monumental coincidence or a really small casting pool.

Of course, that does mean that Riley mysteriously went from being a helmsman to being a communications officer who started out in Engineering. But hey, it’s the Enterprise, where people move around and show up in weird places all the time. Why do you think McCoy constantly reminds everyone that he’s a doctor? He’s probably afraid that if he doesn’t repeat it enough he’ll wake up as a botanist one day with no explanation.

At any rate, Riley’s pulling the night shift down in Engineering, and given his history, one has to wonder if the poor guy is taking this unexplained demotion as an overdue punishment for the Incident, or perhaps even, considering where he was reassigned, as a cruel joke. One thing’s for sure, he certainly doesn’t look very happy. He’s also still wearing a gold shirt, even though both Communications and Engineering are Operations, which is red, so I don’t know what that’s about.

Riley is so bored, in fact, that he calls up to the rec room just to have somebody to talk to. He laments his current position to the few people hanging out up there, who also assume that he’s been reassigned as punishment, though Riley protests that he has no idea what he did. But luckily for him Uhura is hanging out in the rec room playing her lyre, and she agrees to play him a love song to take his mind off how dark and empty and lonely Engineering is.

Unfortunately, while the music of Uhura distracts Riley from his predicament, it also distracts him from some other things—like the fact that someone else has crept into Engineering, with nefarious plans for the delicious dinner of fruity space cubes and milk that Riley has set aside. Although evidently the props department phoned it in on this one, because the villainous stranger is carrying that classic TOS prop, the Completely Unaltered Modern Spray Bottle, and as a result it looks rather like their plan is to poison Riley by putting Windex in his milk.

[ID: A tray showing a partly covered dish of red, yellow and green cubes, and a glass of milk. A gloved hand is reaching in to spray something into the milk from a clear spray bottle. From offscreen, Uhura is singing, “Tomorrow, a stop along the way...” ]

I mean, I guess that would do the trick.

Shortly thereafter, Riley remembers that he does in fact have food waiting, and decides to whet his thirst with some delicious milk while listening to Uhura. It’s a lucky thing for Riley that he did decide to do that when he did, and that Windex is such a short-acting poison, because the comm link is still open to the rec room when he starts gagging and choking and spluttering for help. Then he falls out of his chair, spilling milk all over the console in the process. Man, Riley just can’t help but make a mess of Engineering, huh.

Help soon arrives, presumably, because the next thing we see is Riley unconscious in Sickbay, while Spock and McCoy look on seriously. Spock says that McCoy has to save Riley because if he dies, Kirk will be the only witness left and he’ll be targeted next. And also because Riley is a person and his life is valuable, or something, presumably, I guess. Of course it looks like whoever’s doing this is trying to take out all the witnesses, so unless they’re just really determined to do things in a specific order, Kirk’s going to be the next target regardless of whether Riley makes it or not.

But as Kirk’s log soon tells us, Riley’s condition is not looking good, and McCoy is struggling to find an antidote for Windex poisoning. Since the substance is in use aboard the ship—all those giant windows, y’know—McCoy tells Spock that it’s possible someone just made a mistake and poisoned Riley’s milk by accident. As you do. But of course neither of them really believe that, and Spock wants Kirk to be notified immediately, not even letting McCoy finish his report first.

So the two in blue go off to confront Kirk in his quarters, where he’s brooding over some paperwork. Spock tells Kirk that they know about the whole Kodos thing. Kirk is feeling tetchy, though, as a murder threat is wont to make you do, and accuses Spock of prying into Kirk’s personal business and generally being out of line, which quickly turns into a shouting match. But while Kirk may be able to fend off Spock or McCoy individually, both of them working together is too much for him. Too much for any mere mortal, really.

Kirk backs down just a bit and points out that they don’t have any proof of anything, but Spock tells him to cut that bullshit out (but, y’know, in a more Spock-like manner). He wants to know why Kirk is risking his life, knowing that he’s surely going to be the next target. Kirk says that he’s interested in justice, but McCoy asks if he’s sure it’s not vengeance, and Kirk admits that he’s not.

He goes on to talk about how he cannot be certain Karidian really is Kodos, and that he must be certain before he can accuse anyone of something like that. After all he only saw Kodos once, twenty years ago, and human memory becomes distorted over much shorter periods than that. Kirk does not want to rely only on logic for this: he won’t be satisfied until he knows in his heart that Karidian is Kodos.

And if he is certain, what then? McCoy asks. Nothing done to Kodos now will bring back the people he killed. No, Kirk agrees, but…

[ID: Kirk looking seriously into the distance and saying, “But they may rest easier.”]

It’s quite the scene. Kirk is obviously struggling with this dilemma, and with his own memories of that terrible event. He knows there’s a weight on his shoulders to do something, but that weight only makes him more determined to be certain before he acts—while also making him all the more uncertain. William Shatner primarily gets remembered for all the hammy shouting he did as Kirk, but he was fully capable of pulling off the quieter scenes as well, when he had something to work with.

After the break, either the conversation is still ongoing, or Spock left and came back just to repeat what he already said, I’m not sure. At any rate, McCoy’s gone off somewhere and Spock and Kirk are still hashing it out when Spock hears an ominous humming noise. They both immediately recognize it: it’s a phaser on overload, getting ready to blow, and that’s seriously bad news.

Spock starts tearing about the room while Kirk puts out a call to evacuate the deck, because if that phaser goes off it’ll take out the whole thing. Then he pushes Spock out the door to go lead the evacuation while he keeps looking for the phaser. The hum is getting louder and louder as Kirk throws books around desperately, until finally he spots it—it’s in a tiny alcove in the wall, behind a transparent frame. What possible use that alcove could have besides hiding phaser bombs in is a mystery to me.

Kirk grabs the thing out, and evidently it’s too late to turn it off now, because after a moment of grappling with it he runs out of the room and chucks the phaser in a convenient nearby chute, labeled ‘Pressure Vent Disposal.’ Spock comes running back in time to stand there and wait for a tense few seconds before there’s an explosion somewhere far below, still strong enough to knock them both against the far wall. Crisis averted—just. Man, good thing that chute was there.

Elsewhere on the ship, Karidian is hanging out in his temporary quarters, wearing quite the elaborate high-collared robe, as actors do when they’re relaxing. But the tense music tells us that this is not any ordinary hanging out, it’s very ominous hanging out. Kirk soon comes in, determined to have a talk. He’s in quite the mood after that little incident with the phaser, understandably—Kirk’s not much bothered by a threat to his own life, but a threat to his ship and crew? That will sure spur him to action. He’s not here to beat about the bush, either, just straight-up asks, “Are you Kodos?” Blunt. I like it.

Karidian reacts very little to this, which in itself is telling, because if you’re not an infamous mass-murdering eugenicist, then one would expect that your reaction to someone walking into your room and accusing you of being one would be surprise. And confusion. Just a general sort of, “What? No. What the fuck, no?”

But Karidian only asks if Kirk believes that he is Kodos, and when told that he does, says that he’ll be Kodos if it pleases Kirk to believe that. Because he’s an actor, and plays many parts. My dude, that’s not how acting works. You don’t have to just pretend to be anybody that someone accuses you of being. Hell, there’s probably a union rule about that somewhere.

Unsurprisingly this non-answer doesn’t much amuse Kirk, nor is he amused when he asks what Karidian was twenty years ago and Karidian just says, “Younger. Much younger.” So he gives Karidian a piece of paper and tells him to read it into the wall comm, so they can compare it to a recording of Kodos that they have on file, which Kirk says is a “virtually infallible” test.

This is a part of the episode that didn’t hold up so well over time. We’re repeatedly told that Kodos was never positively declared dead because the body was too burned to be identified. That made sense in 1966—or at least, I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt that it did—but we’ve gotten a lot better at forensics since then, so it’s a bit hard to find that believable. What, no DNA test? No dental records? Facial reconstruction? Nuthin? The whole computer voice comparison thing is obviously supposed to come off as cool future tech but in a modern context it just seems rather silly.

I’m not real inclined to hold this one against them as an actual criticism, though, since it’s not like the writers could possibly have known otherwise at the time. That said, even putting aside the modern context, the crux of this whole ‘only nine witnesses’ thing doesn’t really hold up too well within the episode. I already mentioned how weird it is that apparently there are only nine people, out of the four thousand or so surviving colonists, that could identity the governor of the colony, but even allowing that one it still doesn’t make any sense because there are photos of Kodos. We saw Kirk looking at one back near the beginning of the episode! If there’s photographic proof of what the dude looks like, why the heck are these eyewitnesses so important? It’s not as if they can’t prove he did the crime unless they have people who can say they saw him doing it—that’s not the kind of crime you can cover up, and anyway, no one ever expresses the slightest bit of doubt that it was Kodos himself who did it. Everyone knows that. The question is what he looks like, and that’s not a mystery. Eliminating the eyewitnesses would do nothing because someone could still figure out who the guy was by looking at a picture of him! That you have! In public access library files!

The weird thing is that plot-wise there was never any need to show that photo at all. It just came up and Kirk went “hm” at it and that was it. They could easily have just not shown that there were any photos of Kodos, and then we wouldn’t have this problem, but they did, and here we are.

Anyway, Kirk gives Karidian the paper, and tells him to read it out. What, without even a lawyer present? You can just walk into someone’s room and make them take a possibly self-incriminating identity test? Man, space law is tough.

Karidian doesn’t look happy about this—unsurprisingly--but he’s not got much choice, so he takes the paper and begins to read from what is evidently a speech that Kodos gave. “The revolution is successful, but survival depends on drastic measures. Your continued existence represents a threat to the well-being of society. Your lives mean slow death to the more valued members of the colony. Therefore I have no alternative but to sentence you to death. Your execution is so ordered, signed Kodos, governor of Tarsus 4.”

As he reads, he slowly looks away from the paper and stares into the distance, clearly no longer reading the words but remembering them, and the look on his face says that it is a sharp memory and a haunted one.

Kirk does not fail to notice this, and points it out to Karidian, who deflects by saying that he just learns lines very quickly. Kirk’s not buying that, and asks whether he didn’t instead “play the part in front of a captive audience, who you blasted out of existence without mercy.” At that, Karidian starts going into a spiel about how Kirk is just an example of a modern technology-driven society that lacks humanity, which he defines as being about striving to survive with our own resources. Which is an odd definition of humanity, but okay. He insists that Kodos only made a decision that had to be made, that those four thousand people had to die so the other half could live, and if the supply ships hadn’t turned up early, his actions might now be remembered as heroic. I dunno about that, man, it’s pretty hard to get people onboard with killing four thousand innocent people. Unless you convince them that they’re terrorists first.

Seeing that Kirk is not impressed with this argument, Karidian asks (loudly) why Kirk doesn’t just kill him now, if he’s so sure that Karidian is Kodos. Just execute him on the spot, eh? That sounds like something Kodos the Executioner would suggest! Got him!

But while Kirk might not be hewing real close to due process at the moment he hasn’t gone that far, so instead he presses Karidian on how there are no records of him prior to the date of Kodos’s supposed death. Karidian doesn’t really dispute this, choosing instead of muse about how he’s grown old and tired, memory failing him and grateful for it, and doesn’t really care about being alive anymore. Out, out, brief candle, and all that.

Then he asks Kirk if he got everything he wanted, and Kirk quietly says that if he had gotten everything he wanted, Karidian might not leave the room alive.

With that, Kirk turns to go, but before he can leave, Lenore emerges unexpectedly from a side door and ushers Karidian to go rest. Then she tells Kirk that “there’s a stain of cruelty on [his] shining armor” and accuses him of only using her as a tool to get to her father. Which, well, that is what he did. Kirk insists that it started out that way but that he wound up wanting a more genuine relationship, which is not really great consolation.

Lenore says that Kirk has no mercy in him, to which Kirk responds that if Karidian is Kodos, Kirk has shown him more mercy than he deserves. And if he isn’t Karidian, Lenore asks? Then the players will be let off at their destination and no harm done. Lenore protests that Kirk has no right to decide whether harm was done, and maybe that’s true—but her case is looking rather thin at the moment, because like with Karidian himself, her lack of reaction to her father being accused of being Kodos leaves little room for doubt. She makes no attempt to dispute Kirk’s claim, let alone respond to it with the kind of anger, shock and confusion that would be expected. I mean, let me put it this way: if I heard someone accusing my dad of being a mass murderer I would not be like “you have no mercy in you! you could have spared him this!” I would be like “WHAT the FUCK are you TALKING about.”

Elsewhere, away from all this high drama, McCoy is in Sickbay making a medical log about Riley. Apparently Riley’s recovered, but Kirk wants him restricted to Sickbay for the time being so he doesn’t have any encounters with Karidian, who, as McCoy helpfully adds, might be the guy who murdered Riley’s family. Unfortunately, Riley is right in the next room and overhears all of this. Whoops. I mean, on the one hand, this is what happens when you don’t have keyboards, but on the other hand, ya probably could have been just a wee bit more careful there, Bones.

Kirk gives a log telling us that Karidian is under surveillance, and that “strategic areas” are on double guard, but that the scheduled performance is still going ahead. Which seems a bit odd, but then I guess at least if the guy’s onstage you know he’s not off somewhere murdering somebody. Or some four thousand bodies. Evidently the Enterprise doesn’t have an auditorium that can seat four hundred people, though, because only a few people get to actually watch it in person—everyone else has to watch it being broadcast on a screen.

Lenore comes out on stage to inform the audience that they’re performing Hamlet, and also, please make sure you turn your communicators off during the show. She calls it a “violent play written in violent times when life was cheap and ambition was God.” Man, if I wrote that in a paper my Script Analysis professor would have laughed me out of the room.

Meanwhile, Kirk and Spock are examining the results of Karidian’s voice test. Is this virtually infallible computer test actually being done by the computer? No, it just printed out a couple of pieces of paper with soundwave patterns on them for Kirk and Spock to look at. Technology, ain’t it wonderful. Spock says it looks like a match, but Kirk says it’s not an exact match. Well, no, it wouldn’t be, the guy was twenty years older the second time. But Kirk says they’re dealing with a man’s life and no machine can make that decision. WELL THEN WHY DID YOU MAKE HIM TAKE THE TEST.

Over in Sickbay, McCoy is about to go to the play and stops in to remind Riley of something—to stay put, presumably—only to discover that Riley has vanished. Poor McCoy, he just can’t make anyone stay in Sickbay. They really need to put a door with a lock on that place.

McCoy immediately calls up Kirk and tells him that Riley’s gone, and that he might have overheard McCoy talking about Kodos. Right after that, security calls Kirk to tell him that someone broke into a weapons locker and took a phaser. Great job, security. Kirk puts out an alert for security to find Riley and keep him from murdering anyone, which I’m sure they’ll do quickly and competently.

Kirk slips backstage while Hamlet is having his encounter with the ghost of his father, as played by Karidian. Y’know, when I was in college, a group of traveling actors came and did a performance of Othello at our theatre, and their set design was just a white cloth running around the stage and a few chairs at the back. It worked incredibly well and the production was phenomenal. I’m just saying, just because you have a low budget and have to pack all your equipment around with you doesn’t mean your plays have to look like this.

[ID: A stage set with a cheap-looking ‘stone’ wall to the left, with windows facing into the red curtains. On the stage are Karidian, wearing a black belted robe with a silver cape slung off his right shoulder and holding an abstract metal mask in front of his face, and a man wearing a blue robe, bright red undershirt, enormous gold medallion, and what looks like a pink feather boa wrapped around one arm. Karidian is saying, “...when thou shalt hear.” ]

Backstage, Kirk spots Riley, sneaking up behind a flat with a phaser at the ready. Man, only five scenes in and already things are derailing pretty badly backstage. Could be worse though. At least nothing's on fire.  Kirk tries to tell Riley to calm down and not kill someone on a suspicion, but Riley—despite presumably being a lot younger than Kirk when he saw Kodos—has none of Kirk’s hesitation about the issue. He remembers what Kodos looked and sounded like and he’s dead certain that Karidian is him.

Evidently he’s not all that ready to take justice into his own hands, though, because once Kirk gets over to him—crossing right in clear view of the audience, dammit Kirk! If you can see the audience they can see you!--he’s able to easily take the phaser away, and Riley leaves with little fuss.

Karidian takes his exit, and Lenore is waiting to tell him that he’s doing a great job, but Karidian is quite agitated. He tells Lenore that he’s being tormented by a voice from the past; there was “another part he played, long ago” and “now that same curtain rises again” because as we all know actors speak entirely in theatrical metaphors. But Lenore says no—after the performance, the last two people left who can harm him will be taken care of. Oh.

Judging by Karidian’s reaction, Lenore did not keep him in the loop about her witness-murdering activities. He grabs her and starts yelling, demanding to know what she’s done.

[ID: Karidian standing backstage behind some castle set pieces, holding up his hands and yelling, “More blood on my hands?” at Lenore, who is wearing a pink and yellow dress, and looking away with dismay.]

Dammit, Lenore! I just got the last damn spot out!

Lenore insists that it had to be done. She’s buried the ghosts of the past, and now there is no more blood on her father’s hands. That’s an interesting concept of justice you have there, Lenore. Karidian is distraught, and exclaims that Lenore was the only thing in his life not tainted by his crimes. Now he has nothing.

For some reason no one reacts to this rather loud confrontation taking place just offstage, which is also mysteriously bereft of, say, actors. You'd expect someone to have a reaction to this. Probably the stage manager. “GODDAMMIT I told you to stop talking backstage. The audience is going to hear you. They're going to SEE you if you don't quit hanging around blocking traffic back there. That is NOT THE PLACE to have a nervous breakdown. Lenore I don't care if you're having a dramatic revelation about your murderous role in covering up your father's past misdeeds, if you miss your cue I WILL SHOOT YOU MYSELF.”

Lenore is still grinning unnervingly and talking about how everything’s fine now, she’s taken care of everything, now no one can harm her wonderful, brilliant daddy. Kirk, who’s been listening in the whole time, has had enough, and tells them both to come with him. Lenore says they will after the show, but Kirk tells her the whole ‘the show must go on’ thing doesn’t apply to murder investigations.

She doesn’t take that one too well, and when Kirk summons a security guard (from...somewhere) she grabs the guard’s phaser and runs out onto the stage, sending the audience diving to the floor in panic. Kirk, Karidian, and the extremely useless security guard come after her, but stop as she turns the phaser on them. When Kirk tells her she’ll never make it off the ship, Lenore, who is clearly no longer on speaking terms with normal reality, says that then the ship will just go on drifting through space with Karidian’s ghost giving performances forever. Then she starts quoting Shakespeare, which is never a good sign.

Kirk tries to get close to her, but Lenore moves to fire—and Karidian dives in front of him. The phaser bolt hits him square in the chest and he goes down as Lenore screams in anguish. As Kirk steps forward to take the phaser away she collapses to the floor, kneeling over her father’s body, sobbing and feverishly babbling more Shakespeare at him while the audience stares in confused horror.

Well that brought the play to a rather abrupt halt, and so early on too. Still, I'm sure they could salvage it with a concerted effort. “Shit. Shit, did one of the actors just murder another one of the actors? Okay, no one panic, I've seen worse. Just keep going. Act like it was meant to happen. The audience won't know the difference if we play it cool. It's Hamlet, everyone dies anyway.”

Sometime later, McCoy comes to visit Kirk on the bridge to give him Lenore’s medical report. Apparently she remembers nothing and thinks Karidian’s still alive. McCoy says she’ll receive the best of care, which I hear has really improved in the Federation since they got rid of the brain-melty chair. He asks Kirk, “You really cared for her, didn’t you?” Kirk dodges the question, giving orders to leave orbit instead—but he gives McCoy a look which the doctor takes as an answer before he leaves the bridge, and the ship carries on through space.

It’s a weird way to wrap up the episode, if you ask me. This was a story about Kirk having to revisit a horrible event in his past, and struggle with questions of justice and revenge and what he has the right to do, and what the fallout of his suspicions could be for an innocent man if he is wrong, and if redemption is ever even possible for some crimes. I don’t expect them to wrap all that up in the last minute and a half, but it’s jarring to me that they went, “You know what we really need to focus on here out of all of that is the romance angle.” Perhaps I am biased, but why that should be considered inherently more interesting than everything else going on here is beyond me. Not to say that Kirk’s feelings about Lenore are not complicated and painful and probably quite worth examining, but there’s no question asked about how he feels about Kodos, a horrible figure from Kirk’s past risen again to haunt him, only to prove more complex than was thought, who then dies in a way that could offer no real catharsis for anyone.

I suppose you could say that McCoy was just way off the mark about how Kirk was feeling and didn’t ask the right question. But I’d like to think that McCoy--who has a medically educated understanding of the complexities of trauma, who has very strong feelings about the taking of life in any circumstance, and who has been through a scarring experience or two himself--would know better. Still, on the whole, it was a fine outing for TOS, giving us some interesting characters, great little character bits with our mains, and tackling some serious questions, even if the acting allegories got a little bit overwrought.

TREK TROPE TALLY: None once again. Next time, we’ll be getting our first look at some classic enemies in Balance of Terror.

#star trek #star trek TOS #star trek TOS season one #1.13 The Conscience of the King #recap tag #star trek TOS recaps #1.13 The Conscience of the King recap

[reptilerach]

“Rejection”; Chapter Twenty-Six

NOTES:��

Thank you for the congratulations, Anon. And even more importantly- thanks for smacking a fist of “get off your lazy procrastinatin’ ass and update your freakin’ story pls love ya!” into me. xD 

Also, some cursing in this chapter. Not a whole lot, but it’s still pretty sailor-y.

________________________________________________________________

“No. No, Sans. Anything but tickling. Please. Please!” You begged, and he laughed darkly. You were too worried that he’d kill you with your extremely sensitive sides to recognize any true humor in his tone. “ooo, i found your weak spot, huh?”

He leaned over his bed and set the phone on the table where his nightshade stood. He turned his attention back to you, and a blue spark crackled from his eye. You wanted to scream; if someone even poked your side, you would shoot up 10 feet into the air. You haven't been tickled in years; mainly because everyone knows that one does not simply try to touch the (Y/N). “Sans. I beg of you. Please! I'll do anything!” You cried, and he retracted his hands that were mid-air.

He smirked devilishly, and placed his hands in his pocket. He gave you a sideways look, and raised his non existent eyebrows. “anything?” He cooed, and you nodded quickly. As soon as you did, you took it back. You weren't willing to do anything- you just thought people who had a heart would accept the proposal of mercy and let them go. But then again… Sans was a skeleton.

He didn't technically have a heart.

“S-Sans?” You stuttered, and his eye sockets darkened to a pitch black. You didn’t know what he was thinking, and you didn’t want to stick around to find out. Using sheer brainpower, you focused real hard on your chest that was being held against its will. A crack sounded within your eardrums, and at first you thought it was only yourself. But when you opened your eyes, Sans was staring with a horrified expression.

He had his palms held up in front of him, glancing back and forth between them and you. You tried to sit up, and somehow- you succeeded. You weren’t being held back anymore; you were free. Without wasting a second, you spun around and did a little maneuver that you were taught by your teacher back in middle school. You sprang up into the air, and ripped away one of Sans’ hands from his face.

You pulled his arm down towards the bed, and twisted your body so that he fell through the air and you were the one in control again. He still said nothing; you smirked at your victory. You know you done good when you made the smartass skeleton shut up and need a moment to recollect his bearings. He lay there, pinned to his own mattress, dumbfounded. His eye fizzled out pathetically, stunned by the sudden trick that you just tried out at that second with no practice before hand.

Honestly, you would have been more shocked with your reflexes and how you managed to break free from his strong magic in the first place; but you were panting and unaware of what to do next. You chuckled, and broke the unusual silence from the monster. “Looks like the tides have changed. But as you were saying…?” You were so happy with yourself, you didn’t even care how close your face was to his skull yet again.

Starstruck, Sans continued to say nothing. He had no idea what happened. One minute, he was in control with you begging for mercy. Then he was the one with the broken magic and interrogated? His soul urged for him to reply with a good comeback, but his head refused. It couldn’t comprehend what the human just did; because no one has ever done it before.

She overpowered his magic with her own, and tore away from his infamous soul-grab technique.

Appearing as though her little muse was over, she let Sans go and got to her feet. Brushing off her hands on her pants, she sighed and chuckled to herself again. “Would ya look at that. I’ve silenced the Almighty Sans. Guess that’s quite the feat, huh?” She placed her hands on her hips, and pushed her big, nerdy glasses up. “I’ll be downstairs with the gang. See what they wanna do next tonight.”

And with that, she strolled out of the room and shut the door courteously for the astounded skeleton still lying on his mattress. He listened to her footsteps fall downstairs, and her laughter ring out throughout the house at something that Undyne said. Sans sat up from his bed, staring at her phone across the room, deep in wonder.

***

You rushed down the wooden stairs from Sans’ room and threw yourself onto the couch. Papyrus was nearly crushed, and Undyne barked out a fit of laughter. Alphys scolded at you to be more careful, but you just rubbed her head in response. She smiled, and wiggled her eyebrows. “You seem awfully happy. Did something happen…?” She asked, raising her pitch at the end of her sentence to secretly imply something.

You blushed a little, and shook your head. “Nah. I simply asked Sans a few questions as to why he changed all the names in my contacts list.” You weren’t exactly lying, but you weren’t telling the full truth, either. Alphys made a “mm-hmm” noise under her breath, and Undyne bared her teeth. “What’d the trashbag do? What’s our names now?!” You reached for your phone in your pocket, but remembered you left it upstairs.

Dammit. He was distracting me too much. You shrugged, and laid your legs over Papyrus’s lap where he’d started observing the firm muscle on your bones. “Dunno. He still has my phone. But knowing him, he probably changed your name to some sort of pun about fish. Like, ‘F.S.H’; get it? Because it’s missing an  ‘i’?” You burst out laughing, and Papyrus chuckled along even though it was kinda mean.

Undyne scrunched up her face in anger, and swung a clenched fist in the air. “YOU PROBABLY HELPED HIM MAKE THAT ONE UP!” You kept laughing, and a snort came out of Alphys’ nose. “You don’t scare me Undyne.” You teased her, and brought a finger up to your eyelid and pulled it down in an offensive, anime way. Alphys squealed at the little reference, and you gave her a wink.

Undyne jumped to her feet, and stomped over to you. Papyrus stuck out an arm, and pushed her shoulder away from beating the shit outta you. On the outside, you pulled a “Sans” and remained calm. On the inside, you were terrified as images of Undyne the Undying flew through your brain. How she melted and her determination to live past death crumbled away as Chara- a.k.a. you- dodged all of her infamous spear attacks.

“Is that a challenge, punk?! Do you wanna fucking go?!” She swore, and Papyrus yelled at her to watch her language. You snickered, and nodded. “Sure. Why not?” The place where her nostrils would have been flared up and down rapidly; the gills on her neck fluctuated in and out with rage. She slammed a fist down on the table beside her, breaking the heavy wooden table clean in half. Papyrus uttered out a cry of defeat, and was on the verge of tears.

Alphys ran over, comforting him. “I’ll make sure to get you a new one, Papyrus.” She rubbed his shoulder pad armor, while Undyne laughed maniacally. “Alright!! A human that isn’t a total wimp! What shall it be?! I’ll even let you get to pick, since I’m naturally good at everything athletic.” You wagged a finger at her, and even tsked her daringly.

“Oh, Undyne. I already know that. So I’m going to challenge you to a match of chess.” Her rambunctious glare dropped immediately, the blue spear she’d summoned in her hand (you had no idea when that got there) faded into nothing. “Uh...what?” She stood up straight, and Alphys gasped. Frisk never negotiated; they only agreed with a newfound determination to win at whatever was thrown in their way.

Papyrus wasn’t sad anymore, and asked Undyne’s question for her. “HUMAN...HOW DO I SAY THIS WITHOUT BEING RUDE? HMM… OH!” He paused for emphasis, and took in a deep breath. Then out of nowhere he screamed, “ARE YOU CRAZY?!” You gave him a lazy smile, one so big it could rival his brother’s. “Nope, I’m (Y/N).”

He flipped the broken table pieces in front of him, and shrieked with fury. Undyne took ahold of your shirt, and raised you high into the air above her. Alphys tugged at her jeans to put you down, but Undyne ignored her. “I think you’re just being a coward! You’ve barely even been in the Underground for more than a few days; how in the world would you know if you were going to lose?!”

You knew you couldn’t answer that question; only Sans knew the answer to that, and he’s the only one who ever will. You had to come up with an excuse right on the dot, which was something you weren’t normally very good at. But, by God’s Grace, it hit you. “When I first fell into the Ruins, I met Frisk. She told me all about you and your amazing athletic capabilities. So why fight a battle when you know you’re going to lose?”

Undyne bit her lip, and thought hard. Then she snapped back to life with as much energy as ever. Papyrus was still running around the living room with his hands flailing up into the air like a beheaded goose. “Determination! And hope! You rely on those traits to help you get through the battle! And believe me when I say that those will get you far in a place like this; the kid befriended every monster in the entire Underground within a week just with hope and determination alone! Even me!”

You looked around the room, realizing what you were about to say was really depressing and incomprehensible to her. “What if none of that mattered? What if your fate was already predetermined by mysterious beings with a power that you would never be able to understand?” She looked more confused than ever, and set you down. “Huh?” Her red hair flew about wildly, and Alphys finally managed to take ahold of Papyrus’s sanity once again.

Bags suddenly grew around your eyes, and you continued rambling. “What would be the point to doing or believing in anything anymore? Why even try?” You realized that you had sounded just like Sans; you covered your mouth with your hands in surprise and a little fear. Undyne stared at you as if you had three heads; maybe there was even a glimpse of concern in her gaze. “(Y/N), what are you talking about? Life isn’t predetermined like some sort of...of...video game! It’s always changing, and anything can happen!”

You looked back up at her, and listened to her words. “In life, you always have to make the best out of it. And that means taking chances! Risking all you got just to try out something new.” She laid a hand on your shoulder, smiling genuinely. She no longer seemed angry. “And if that is what you wish, I will take on your challenge at a chess match! Be prepared to lose, because I’m gonna have Alphy teach me everything about it and how I’m gonna beat you!”

She jabbed a thumb into your skin, laughing proudly. Alphys blushed in a corner where she was nearly finished with calming Papyrus down upon hearing Undyne’s words of praise. You chuckled half-heartedly, and nodded. “That’s what you think. But one lesson I’ve learned lately is that you can’t count your chickens before they hatch.”

FIRST

PREVIOUS

NEXT

Chapter Ten (Where all the chapters before that are)

Chapter Twenty (Links for Chapters 11 --> 19)

Chapter Thirty (Links for Chapters 21 --> 29)

#rejection #undertale #undertale fanfiction #fanfiction #reader insert #sans x reader #reader x sans #sans #undertale sans #papyrus #undertale papyrus #alphys #undertale alphys #undyne #undyne the undying #undyne the badass #undertale undyne #anon ask #female anon #anon x sans #frisk #undertale frisk #frans #sans x frisk #procrastination #thank you for the reminder #ask me anything #i really need to stop being lazy