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wishingstarinajar · 3 years

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I am going to ramble a bit but I will hide it under a cut because it's a bit long. It will be about the previous fandom I was active in around two years ago and how it affects me to this day. It's also about popularity and putting others on a pedestal.

If this sort of ramble isn't up your alley then feel very free to skip over this post! I don't mind. If you want to read more about it, just check under the cut.

The Franchise And Its Creators

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THE FRANCHISE AND ITS CREATORS Around mid-2014, I joined the Wakfu and Dofus fandoms, a small-ish fandom as a whole but popular in certain circles.

For those who don't know, Wakfu and Dofus are (online, console, mobile, figurine, card and board) games, comics, animated series, specials and movies created by a French studio named Ankama. These two franchises are intertwined with each other as they play out in the same universe but in different timelines. I myself dabbled around in the animated part of the fandom; I was a huge fan of the two series and the Dofus movie.

There was very little catering to the international part of the fandom when it came to the studio's attention and interactions. There were no English dubs or subtitles; international fans had to rely on English fan subtitles on ripped/pirated episodes of the show and movie, same for the franga/comics. Merch was hard to get. A lot of articles related to the shows and whatnot were in French only, which is understandable because it is a French-made product. But there's no denying that the international fanbase felt a little neglected back then.

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MY FANDOM JOURNEY

Because I was very interested in the lore of both franchises, I had to do a lot of digging and translating to be able to fully indulge in it all. I went full in! I dug deep, created OCs, art and also tried to write fanfiction. I also shared news and info about the series and movie; I ran a fan blog dedicated to sharing things with the international part of the fandom. I was also often approached about lore, particularly for a few of the canon characters and one of the races that play a role in the Wakfu franchise; the Eliatropes. It was fun, it felt good to help other fans out, it was nice to make friends and be creative with others about similar things.

Eventually, the character and art theft began. We all know this is a 'normal' part of fandoms, so I won't hammer too long on it. My issue with it was the fact that my main OC, a female Eliatrope, gathered a lot of attention because female Eliatropes were a rarity in the Wakfu franchise. They existed but didn't get a moment in the limelight, except for one that even received her own game (Islands of Wakfu) but it was so obscure that a lot of fans didn't know about its existence. My OC was somehow mistaken as canon by plenty of folks and many others started to use her as a template to create their own (female) Eliatrope OC. I didn't mind, as long as they weren't straight-up copies and I tried to be supportive by answering lore questions and give feedback whenever it was asked for it (which happened a lot). Of course, copying and theft happened more often than not; over the five years I was part of the fandom, I sent out almost a hundred DMCA reports for art and character theft (like true theft; I could handle some similarities or one-time occurrences). One particular case went to the extreme but I won't beat that dead horse any further; it brought me enough misery to last me half a lifetime, that's all I'll say on it. I kept a lot of the negative experiences behind closed doors and dealt with a lot of it quietly to not bother, worry or burden anyone else with any of it. I wanted a positive and supporting environment for my followers, even if the truth wasn't as pretty.

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ANKAMA'S STRUGGLE

Over the years, studio Ankama increased attempts to cater more to the international fanbase of its animated properties (articles in English, English dubs and subtitles, etc). However, the studio's struggle to garner the attention of international supporters (aka companies and sponsors) didn't go too smoothly, and to make matters worse, they were also struggling with finding a platform in France to broadcast the Wakfu series on after wishing to take a different and more mature direction. Ankama wanted more freedom with the Wakfu show, like less censorship, a serial rather than episodic, and it not being aimed at a young audience like its previous contractor demanded Wakfu to be. Ankama even turned to crowdfunding to get certain projects (like new Wakfu seasons) off the ground and let's just say that those crowdfunding projects are best described as tiny dumpster fires; they weren't pretty to watch. The first one was a disaster with plenty of displeased backers and the following crowdfunding attempts often didn't meet the end goal due to bad past experiences or the lack of interest.

Luckily, Netflix breathed some life into the international Wakfu fandom, which was great! But it was still received badly (mostly due to the awful English dub and sound mixing of the first two seasons and special) that the third season Netflix made possible was not getting the attention it deserved. It was also a rushed product due to financial and time constraints on Ankama's part. Netflix eventually declined a fourth season and it all fell a bit apart from there. Ankama turned to crowdfunding once more to try and make season 4 a reality. Last time I checked (which was quite a while ago), it did decently enough to make season 4 a reality. (Please don't ask me about it, I don't know anything about it.)

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THE PEDESTAL

While all this was happening behind the scenes, I was starting to struggle with the reputation I built up in the Wakfu and Dofus fandom over the few years I was a part of it. The best way to describe it is that I had grown exhausted.

Aside from dealing with the theft and answering people's questions daily, I wanted to be treated as an average fan but I kept getting put on a pedestal. People went as far as to call me by titles (like lady Wish and miss Wish) more often than not. To be called and treated as such made me feel alienated, like as if I wasn't considered real. I often asked to just be called Wish, no titles/formalities required, and that I wasn't as 'popular' as they believed, but the majority of the people didn't seem to listen. People were either afraid or refused to interact with me because they considered me 'too popular', or simply wanted nothing but my validation, feedback and/or free art. I also had my fair share of haters and people that didn't approve of my 'status' in the fandom. Join the club xD I wasn't very happy with it either.

I really started to dislike being called 'popular' because it had such a bad impact on the people around me (and my own mental wellbeing). Friends started to become jealous of the attention I garnered and it dragged me down every time. At times, it would turn toxic. It was never my intention to make my friends feel like they meant less because they surely didn't. To learn that they believed others were only friends with them or only looked at their art/writing because they were good friends with me hurt so much. It still does. I refuse to believe that was fully true because I was (and still am!) surrounded by very creative people and they all deserved as much attention as I was getting, at times more. I wish others saw it that way too.

I was also heavily chained down thanks to the role (model) I played in the fandom. Too many people (especially young ones) looked up to me and there were a lot of expectations that I felt forced to meet. I started to lose the energy for it, but if I dared to stray a little from the path, the pitchforks and torches would come out. It was very restricting.

In the end, I felt stuck. Things started to grow toxic. There was a point where I began to dislike the franchise because of the bad feelings it brought me. I couldn't even get myself to watch the series or movie anymore. I focused less and less on the canon side of things and more on my own ideas, which was one of the only comforts I really had left in the fandom. I started to shut myself off, which upset a lot of people. I am sorry for that, I wish it didn't happen that way but I was at my wits' end.

When I realized and also accepted that I was no longer enjoying myself with canon or fanon, I knew I had to move on or stuff would end badly. It was a very tough realization and decision to accept and make; I literally dedicated five years of my life to the fandom. I spent hours a day digging for info and news to translate and share, doing 'research' for my fanfics, answering questions, and whatnot. I truly lived the fandom day in and out. It was the first fandom I ever actively participated in to this degree. What the heck was I going to do without that?

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THE NOW

Abandoning the fandom was a scary step to take but not one I regret. I left the Wakfu and Dofus fandom behind me in late 2019. I feel freer now and so much happier. I no longer have the burden of expectations, being a lore guide or be forced to portray a certain role model weighing me down. I am no longer on that f*cking pedestal. I can finally explore interests that aren't exactly child-friendly without a big part of my following pummeling me down for it. (Don't worry, I always try my best to keep it in the appropriate places.)

Do I still like Wakfu/Dofus and all the stuff I've created with it? Yes, I do but I also want nothing more to do with it. Aside from the friends I've made there and also stuck around on my new adventures, I left the fandom behind me.

I still get approached at times about how my Wakfu OC, art and writing inspired someone and ask me if I could give them feedback for their own ideas or give them advice/information on Wakfu/lore. I am extremely humbled by it every time. It's great to see someone feeling inspired and be creative. However, I've moved on. I've left interacting with the Wakfu/Dofus fandom and fan-made stuff far behind me. I haven't touched it for almost two years and it shows on all the social media I share my art and writing on. I at times wish people could be considerate about the fact that I moved on but I also know and understand that not everyone knows my reasoning or my side of the story. I try not to be too harsh on it.

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MY ADVICE

I don't hate anyone for how things turned out; a lot of it was my own doing by not saying no or taking a stronger stand.

It did teach me a lot of things, especially about caring for my own well-being and putting others on pedestals. Please be mindful when you treat someone like others treated me before; it's not healthy, for yourself and the person you put on that high pedestal. Take everything in moderation and consideration, that's all. Everyone's human, everyone has feelings, and everyone deserves a sense of being. Even your favorite artists and content creators. Don't treat them like an otherwordly being that you have to worship.

In turn, if a fandom or something you enjoyed is making you unhappy nowadays, you owe it to yourself to make or find a change. Be good to yourself, always!

Thanks to anyone who read through this ramble. I needed to get this off my chest. I am not asking for advice, neither pity or whatever else. I just wanted to share my thoughts on past experiences because I have a feeling others might be going through something similar.

Thank you again, please take care.

#wish talks #wish rambles #edited with some format fixes

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shiny-procrastinates · 3 years

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(re)Watching Magia Record S1 - part 10

part 9 here

Hello and welcome back everyone! Do I really need to write this part? I'm running out of ideas here.

Last time, Iroha answered the mysterious messages she was getting and entered the barrier of the Rumor of Endless Solitude, Ai, that had been calling her in the hopes of being erased. There, Iroha meets Sana, a invisible Magical Girl who had run away from the world to Ai's barrier and made friends with the Rumor. After a brief battle with one of the Magius, Alina Gray, Sana's forced to delete the corrupted Ai in a heart-wrenching scene, and the episode ends. What will happen now? That's what we're about to find out.

Puella Magi Madoka Magica Side Story: Magia Record S1 episode 10

Continuing from the last episode, we get a peek at the only time Sana was ever happy the events that led her to her horrible situation and then go back right into the way-too-sad Ai's "death".

However, being meguka is suffering and Sana doesn't even get to grief Ai's death properly because the Rumor's barrier collapses and leaves her and Iroha falling back into the city. Also because she fainted.

Iroha manages to catch Sana in mid-air and is relieved but, uh, Iroha? Unless you can channel the same magic you use in your transformation to land softly you two are still screwed.

Now to something slightly unrelated, after the opening we get a look at what's going on in the other tower, the one Yachiyo and the others had theorized was the exit. I'd ask what's this statue about but I've already learned not to question the backgrounds by now.

On the other tower the Amanee twins are freaking out over the Rumor getting erased, since this means they've failed to protect yet another one. And while they're doing that, Yachiyo team arrives, realizes they hit the mark by seeing them and Tsuruno messes up yet another Rumor(?) by virtue of pressing a random button. Nice(?), Tsuruno! Never mind that you just screwed with the town's whole electromagnetic field.

Why, while you two were freaking out, of course.

The machine Tsuruno activated conveniently attracts Iroha and Sana (and everything metal in x km), saving them from breaking all the bones in their bodies. Sadly, it also pulled in Alina's witches. She rides one of them in order to get closer and then captures them in her cubes. Gotta catch em' all, huh.

Y'know, you'd think that a girl that can somersault over a witch could also straighten herself in the air to land on her feet, but that'd make Iroha be competent and we can't have that, apparently.

RIP Walking Antenna-kun, you shall not be missed.

Thanks to the magnetism dying, Iroha and Sana get a hard landing, while the more skillful Alina just jumps down. The twins continue panicking while Yachiyo and co. go check on Iroha and Sana, who are fine (though only Iroha's conscious).

Then, because what even is continuity, we jump ahead to our girls having moved and getting ready to fight a very pissed Alina. Even the twins are scared. No wonder, since, well

Alina broke (though I'm not sure she was ever not broken). She releases all of the poké- witches she has on her (all dupes too) on our girls. Nasty.

As expected, Felicia rushes in, and Yachiyo follows after her, encountering some trouble. While Iroha protects her back, Yachiyo questions the twins about what's going on.

Yachiyo asks if the cult has been raising witches inside Ai's barrier and the weirdo twins say that both the Rumors and witches are necessary for salvation, for they have need of human emotion. Uhh, Amane sisters are you sure you two are sane? You're sounding a lot like Kyuubei now. Were you brainwashed by the cult?

Felicia keeps being reckless, Alina keeps being crazy, there's a lot of witches and oh god just what's going on with this episode's production, I wonder if it's more intelligible in the blu-ray.

Tsuruno and Felicia do a Connect, burning down some copy-witches, which only makes Alina even more deranged (if that's even possible). Alina does... something, I think she might be doing the same spewing-a-witch-out thingy that we've seen a few times now. Iroha, who had already seen this one of Alina's powers inside Ai's barrier, warns Felicia and Tsuruno not to touch it, but the two are kind of surrounded right now. When everything seems lost...

MAMI! I have never been more glad to see those marvelous drills.

Mami shoots Alina's hat as a warning and, though Alina gives her a face of absolute disgust, she calls back her witch. Mami then orders the twins to go catch some pokémon witches... oh wait, Mami's part of the cult now too? Then why'd she bother saving Iroha earlier and all the girls now?

Thanks for nothing, Mifuyu. You're late.

While Yachiyo and Mifuyu are having a awkward meeting, with Mifuyu looking kinda guilty now, Mami puts the pressure on Alina, questioning what's up with those witches, but Alina just peaces out, saying she doesn't like being interrupted.

Yachiyo calls out to Mami, who apologizes for before. Considering that she's with the Wings of the Magius now, she should know what was up that time, so that makes sense. Yachiyo and co. realize she's with the cult now and raise their guard back up. Mami then says that, even though they're using Rumors and witches, the cult is trying their best to keep sacrifices at a minimum, which does explain why she stepped in these two times. Mami insists that it's all for the sake of salvation and that she will save everyone, the latter being a very Mami thing to say indeed. (with the right to a flashback to the og, even).

Iroha asks what does she mean by "you'll understand eventually" but gets ignored big time. Yachiyo tries to stop Mifuyu, saying what they're doing is no different than a witch but Mifuyu, despite looking guilty, doesn't respond and once again uses her illusion magic to let her group run away.

Oh, and Snaa wakes up.

After the ruckus from the previous night, the Mikadzuki girls (minus Felicia) are helping Sana with moving in. Sana's seems a bit uncomfortable, but I guess it can't be helped when you've been invisible almost all your life.

And well, there's no way she's not feeling down with what happened with Ai. It's going to take a while until she can settle down here yet. Of course, the others get worried about her state, but Yachiyo also says this.

Iroha wonders if they can really become Sana's new home and Yachiyo says only Sana can decide that, but, after seeing the mugs in the cupboard, she also say that there is something they can do for her.

Iroha invites Sana, and the group go shopping for mugs. Sana wonders why mugs, and Yachiyo explains that it's distant to have them continue using the guest ones. She says, while looking affectionately at Tsuruno and Felicia, that it's about time they got one since their group had already gotten this big.

Decision anxiety: The image

Sana says she wants one with a cat, which Iroha picks for her. Felicia chooses one with a cow design, saying that they're delicious when Tsuruno asks why, though Felicia's reason for that is surprisingly thoughtful... and then she tells Tsuruno to get a pig one because twice-cooked pork lol

And there they are. This is almost saying "that's the team". Though they're really basically found family already.

Yes Tsuruno, exactly!

Hearing about family, however, makes Sana remember her own family, so she silently leaves and heads back to her parent's home, maybe to look at how they're doing.

Where are the walls on this thing?

I'm sure they wanted to tell us something with this but I'm not sure exactly what.

One has to wonder how can they leave her food on the door and not realize she hasn't eaten any of it for who knows how long now. Just goes to show how much they don't care about her. She could've died and they wouldn't even had realized. God I hate Sana's family.

Yup, shitty as ever.

Sana takes her things and leaves that house, this time forever. While heading back, she starts suffering while hearing(?) all the kids who get to have their names called by someone, who are seen, until she flashbacks to Iroha calling out for her inside Ai's barrier.

With this, Sana realizes the place she belongs now, the place she wants to be in is Mikadzuki Villa.

*sob* uungh please let this girl's happiness last, show.

Episode 10! This is the title card, but look at the time, there's no way this episode would be over yet.

Oh my god the sound these familiars(?) make is so adorable!

...*ahem*

At what we can assume is the Wings of the Magius' HQ, Mifuyu and Mami are reporting what happened earlier to two obscured figures I think we can assume are the other two Magius besides Alina.

Later, we see Mifuyu lamenting the state of things. Nah Mifuyu, I'm sure Yachiyo would welcome you with open arms as long as you leave this shady cult. Mifuyu hears her doorbell and answers, and the Amane twins let themselves in to make her dinner. You really haven't got it together, do you, Mifuyu?

Mifuyu goes back to her pondering, thinking about how she has to achieve salvation for their sake too. ...are all veterans like Mami here?

So you say but aren't you already?

Back at Mikadzuki Villa, it seems they were filling Sana in on Iroha's situation and why the group is chasing Rumors. Iroha says this, but they've already told you this plenty of times, didn't they? They're aiming for salvation.

Iroha asks if Sana hasn't heard about either Ui or Touka and Nemu, the girls who were hospitalized with her. Sana then reacts to the name Nemu, asking her if that's Nemu Hiiragi, one of the Magius...

Aaand then the episode ends for real. Talk about a cliffhanger!

- x -

While this episode was still about Sana's situation in part, it did manage to drop some grand revelations on us: Alina and raising witches, Mami being part of the Wings of the Magius (and a high-ranking enough member that she could tell Alina off) and last but not least the possibility of one of Iroha's sister's friends being one of the Magius. We just got our main team together, but there's no sign of things slowing down. And since our girls will definitely keep erasing the Rumors, they'll keep on clashing with WotM. To us who watched the og, the main question is, of course, how exactly they plan to execute their "salvation" plan but to Iroha and co., who don't even know about the witchfication yet, the question's still at "what are they trying to save us from", I suppose, so we can look forward to seeing what kind of hell will break loose (or not) once the cat's out of the bag.

Well, not much else to say about this episode except: LET, SANA, BE, HAPPY.

This is everything for episode 10. This one ended up late because the backlog ran out and was incredibly annoying to write because my "w" key is dying. Do you have any idea how much "w" is used in this language? A lot. Please resuscitate, w key.

Thanks for reading and I hope to see you next time!

#Magia Record #pmmm magia record #magireco #puella magi madoka magica

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bubonickitten · 4 years

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TMA fic: where there’s a will, we make a way

Decided to start writing a multi-chapter time travel AU fic to get me through S5, lmao.

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

ETA: Chapter 2 is up. (tumblr // AO3)

Summary:

"So, what does happen if an Eye learns to See within itself? What happens is this: the Archive Beholds the Watcher – and the Watcher blinks first." Or: Jon goes back to before the world ended and tries to forge a different path.

CWs for Chapter 1: canon-typical horror & sadness; canon-typical spiders; mentions of canon-typical trauma (including being held captive by the Circus); (temporary) major character death/absence; spoilers up to and including MAG 169.

And, a couple things from the top:

For this chapter and the next, Jon's dialogue will consist entirely of statements from the episodes (cited in the end notes), but he'll have original dialogue at some point (probably by chapter 3).

TEMPORARY CHARACTER DEATH/ABSENCE: Martin's absence is left intentionally vague (and there are moments in the first couple chapters of Jon grieving for him), BUT I promise Martin will be back (probably by chapter 3 or 4 once I figure out how I want to pace things). Time travel is great like that.

The first couple chapters will be rough but I promise it won't be all bummers going forward.

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Chapter 1: Hubris

At the end of the world, as a tape recorder clicks on, uncountable eyes open wide and the Archive begins to speak.

“There is a tower at the center of creation.

"It juts up from the scorched earth, casting its oppressive shadow over all, so certain of its rightful place in this world. But although it may appear sturdy and eternal, it is, like everything else in this place, decaying – more slowly than the rest, but moving inexorably toward its own extinction all the same.

“In the dying light of a ruined world, it Watches over all that crawls and chokes and blinds and falls and twists and leaves and hides and weaves and burns and hunts and rips and leads and dies. For now, it is sated and gorged on the fear permeating its perfect world – but what happens when the fear runs out? There will come a time when each pinprick of life blinks out around it, one by one, taunting it with the dreadful knowledge of its ultimate, encroaching fate: a slow, agonizing death of boredom and isolation and starvation.

“And it will hurt.

"Nothing lasts forever, but rest assured: the tower will be the last thing standing, wilting alone in a barren and desiccated realm of its own making.

“It will be outlived only by death itself, and even then, only for the briefest of moments.

“The tower is a monument to hubris, and as such, it is destined to collapse.”

The recorder clicks off and Jonathan Sims comes back to himself, standing alone before the menacing bulk of the Panopticon.

The statement was shorter than he's used to, but it isn't surprising – he can't See much here, in the Watcher's domain. Still, it took a lot out of him. He barely has time to take a breath, though, before a familiar door opens up in the ground just in front of him, its yellow paint chipped and faded. The Distortion’s ringing laughter ripples up from the ground and Jon closes his eyes, sighs heavily, and counts to ten.

“No ‘hello’ for me, Archivist?” Helen pulls herself up and out of her door to loom over him. “You’ve become quite rude these past few… how long has it been?”

Shaking his head, Jon readjusts the straps of his backpack and starts to walk. Helen, of course, prowls after him. Her gait seems different, Jon realizes, and when he trains his sight on her – yes, apparently she’s added an extra kneecap to her left leg. She watches him with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes, daring him to comment on her latest modification, but he’s learned by now that it’s best not to encourage the Distortion.

“That was a rather short monologue for you. I very much doubt your patron will be satiated.”

“Oh, how I wish he’d go away,” Jon mutters under his breath. The pronoun is wrong, but it still gets the point across, and Helen is familiar enough with his current mode of communication to catch his meaning.

“Still voiceless, are we? It must be very frustrating for you. Reduced to rifling through others’ trauma, forced to appropriate someone else’s terror any time you want to talk. It really is a shame your lexicon is so… limited. You’ve always had such a lovely voice. It seems a waste to deny it any novelty.”

Ignore her. Count to ten. Breathe.

“Silent treatment?” Helen pouts. “Well, that’s fine. I can speak enough for the both of us.”

Jon wishes he could comment on the irony of It Is Lies telling the truth, but the Archive doesn’t offer up any fitting statements. Probably for the best, really; as a rule, he tries not to let Helen rile him. Tries being the key word.

“Off to see the Watcher? I do wonder how our dear Jonah is doing these days. You’re curious too, aren’t you? You can’t See anything in there. You have no idea what you’re walking into.” Helen’s lips curl in a too-wide smile. “That must drive you mad.”

Jon ignores her. Even if he had something to say, he expects he would be speechless at the moment, beholding the Panopticon. The tower bears no resemblance to the Magnus Institute he remembers. It’s the tallest thing left in the wasteland, now; standing at its base and looking up, it’s impossible to estimate exactly how high it stretches. He could Know, but he doesn’t care to. (The Eye bristles at his refusal to ask the question; Jon dismisses it with an almost childish defiance.)

All of the surrounding buildings have been reduced to dust and rubble, and there is no remaining evidence of there ever having been a street. The composition of the tower's walls is entirely obscured by a viscous coating of –

…aqueous humor, grave dirt, assorted viscera, sawdust, flensed dermis, dental pulp, spider silk…

– Jon closes his eyes and shoves the Knowledge away with a practiced resolve. Its content is no more unsettling than anything else he’s encountered, but even after all this time, having the Beholding hijack his thoughts is still nauseating. He had experienced intrusive thoughts long before becoming the Archivist, but Knowing takes the experience to an entirely different level.

After the moment has passed, Jon opens his eyes again. He can’t tell if the tower no longer has windows, or if they’re just hidden by the horror cocktail smothering its exterior. He supposes it doesn’t really matter either way; the Watcher doesn’t need windows to See outside.

The staircase stretching to the entrance is impossibly long, and the stairs are of the narrow, shallow variety that never accommodate anyone’s stride. Jon sighs as he places one foot on the bottom step.

“That looks like an awfully long climb,” Helen observes. “And a tripping hazard. I would offer you a shortcut, but… well, you know.” She winks and flashes him a wicked grin just as her door materializes beneath her feet, dropping her down into a vertical corridor. “See you at the top, Archivist,” she calls cheerfully, her door slamming behind her and vanishing.

Jon rolls his eyes and ascends the stairs.

___________________________________________

The enormous doors to the tower are already open when Jon reaches the top of the steps. The moment he crosses the threshold, he is bathed in a blinding white light and every one of his eyes reflexively snaps shut. One by one, the extra eyes he has grown so accustomed to wink out of existence until finally, for the first time in forever, he has just the two he was born with. It’s jarring, having his hundredfold, 360-degree sight so suddenly reduced back to a binocular field of vision, but it feels oddly freeing.

At the same time, he doesn’t quite know what to make of it. Does the Watcher want him at a disadvantage? Is there something inherent to the Panopticon that allows only the Ceaseless Watcher itself to See, rendering all others – even its Archive – effectively blind? What if -

“Look at you!” Helen chirps directly into his ear, cackling when he startles. “My, you spook easily, Archivist. Not very becoming for one who Sees all and revels in the terror he has wrought –”

Jon is already walking away. The light isn’t as overwhelming as it was before, but he still has to squint against it. As far as he can see, the interior of the tower is a flat expanse of white. He can't perceive any walls, ceiling, even a floor, making it impossible to guess the size of the place – or if it has an end at all.

“Do you actually Know where you’re going?”

“I was finding it really hard to get a solid idea on where we were,” Jon admits.

“Yes. It’s quite like the tunnels, isn’t it? You never could See down there, either. What did you call it – ‘a universal blind spot’? Strange, how your voyeurism touches everything except your own domain.”

“I come to you not to wallow in my condition – but to request your assistance.” Helen hasn’t been any help in ages, but Jon figures it’s worth a try.

Helen simply laughs. “What assistance could I possibly offer? You are the most powerful thing the apocalypse has to offer, Archivist. Aside from the Entities themselves, that is. I’m certain you can figure it out on your own. As I’ve told you so many times, all you have to do is embrace it.” Jon glares at her. “Now, as much as I would love to stay and watch you get terribly lost, I believe there are more interesting things going on in the world.”

With that, her door swings open on the ground in front of her.

“I thanked them as they left, even though they had been of no help whatsoever,” Jon grumbles to himself.

“You are tetchy today,” Helen teases. “Well, I’ll check back in with you later.”

She steps off the ledge and plummets down through her door again, pulling it shut after her.

Jon pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. It’s incredible how after all this time, even a short encounter with the Distortion leaves him feeling drained.

But she did have a point. He never could See in the tunnels, but that was before he became the Archive. As he is now, he probably has a better chance of finding his way than Helen would. It’s just that doing so is bound to be… unpleasant. No use putting it off, though.

He closes his eyes, looks inward, opens the door, and –

A churning deluge of information crashes into him, sweeping him along in its undertow, and all at once, he’s drowning.

…the equatorial circumference of Jupiter was 439,263.8 kilometres before it was devoured by the ravenous Falling Titan…

…Mr. Spider has taken up residence behind innumerable doors – not every door, but any door. It has an average of one guest for dinner every 39 minutes and still it is hungry…

…the Sandman and the Buried wage war over scraps within the catacombs of Paris, now located approximately 6,294.2 kilometres below creation and sinking…

…as of 23.8 seconds ago, the Crawling Rot and the Lightless Flame have completed their race to consume the endless apartment block located at the corner of Nowhere and –

Jon shakes his head and tries to refine his search.

Tell me about Jonah Magnus.

…Jonah Magnus was born in –

Tell me where I can find Jonah Magnus.

…Jonah Magnus is –

A wave of force crashes into Jon like a freight train and then he’s back in the white space, eyes open, gasping for air and struggling to fill his aching lungs.

It comes as no surprise that the Ceaseless Watcher doesn’t want him to Know the way, but if the Eye didn’t want to be Seen, it should have picked someone less inquisitive. Or less stubborn.

He takes a deep breath, steels himself, and dives back in.

…in a hollowed-out sanctuary of bone and gristle, the Boneturner scavenges uselessly for –

Tell me where to find Jonah Magnus.

A harsh buzz of static starts to ring in his ears.

…the Distortion in its corridors waits for –

Show me how to reach Jonah Magnus.

The static pitches up into a shrill whine.

…Martin Blackwood’s last –

A̵N̴S̸W̴E̸R̶ ̷M̷E̷.̷

The noise reaches an earsplitting crescendo, then cuts out abruptly and –

When the Archive opens its myriad eyes, it Knows the way.

___________________________________________

Once the Knowledge settles in his mind, it's as if a veil has been lifted; the empty, directionless white void resolves itself into perceptible details. Jon finds himself standing in a cavernous, cylindrical space. Countless iron-barred prison cells are recessed into weathered red-brick walls, stacked vertically one on top of the other and stretching all the way up to an impossibly high vaulted ceiling covered in… cobwebs.

Of course. It figures the Web would have infiltrated this place. In fact, it had probably staked out its territory when the initial foundations for Millbank Prison were laid and had simply never left.

Jon shudders and looks away. Or tries to, anyway – there are always a few recalcitrant eyes that linger on the things he does not want to See.

He turns his attention to the observation tower. Its looming presence seems to take up the entire room, radiating a palpable sense of dread. There is nowhere in this world that its gaze cannot reach, but being this close to it is nearly unbearable.

It hurts.

Jon forces himself to stand there, to experience and endure the sheer weight of its omniscient scrutiny concentrated wholly on him. This is what it’s like to be Seen by the Archive, and Jon needs to Know how it feels – how it felt when he turned the Ceaseless Watcher’s gaze upon the monsters he met on the journey to the Panopticon.

And it hurts.

It’s like having his consciousness torn to shreds, every memory and thought and experience comprising his existence ripped out of him, pinned under a microscope, dissected with precision, classified and then hoarded away by a dispassionate curator. It’s sharp angles and blinding lights and throat-rending screams and scalding heat; it’s burrowing worms and scalpel blades and crushing earth and cold plastic hands; it’s fear and pain and love and loss and it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts –

Jon’s knees give out and he crumples to the floor, panting, resting his head in his twitching hands as the aftershocks of white-hot pain ripple through him. He lets himself roll over onto his side and curl into a fetal position while he waits for the tremors to stop.

Martin wouldn’t have approved, but Jon had to Know. He had to Know what it was like, if the monsters he killed deserved it, if the punishment was proportionate to the crime, and –

They did and it was. He can confidently say that each sentence he handed out was justified, and it’s somewhat of a relief.

Beyond that, though, experiencing it firsthand was the best way he could think to fully appreciate the consequences of allowing his potential to go unchallenged and unrestrained, and to make clearer the distinction between Jonathan Sims, the Watched and the Archive, the Watcher – or conduit of the Watcher, at least. If nothing else, the memory of it will be an anchor going forward – a searing reminder of how much is at stake and the ultimate cost should his plan fail.

And, of course, it was also an effective way to assess the power he has at his disposal, to determine whether he’s strong enough for his plan to work. He did survive it, at least, which seems like a good sign. Hopefully it's a good sign.

As the pain fades to a dull ache, he pushes himself to his feet and takes a minute to compose himself before entering the observation tower. He has not come eye to eye with Jonah Magnus since before the world ended, before he forced himself through the domains of each and every fear that marked him, before he completed his metamorphosis. That was the point of the journey, he realizes now: reliving the terror and retracing every mark was necessary for him to emerge as the fully-fledged Archive.

He hopes it was all worth it.

Jon takes a deep breath, braces himself, and crosses the threshold.

___________________________________________

Jonah Magnus is a pitiful sight.

He sits slumped on the Watcher’s throne within his lonely observation tower, ropes of spider silk binding him in place. The look in his eyes when he beholds his Archive is entirely unreadable, and Jon doesn’t care to Know.

Well – his two original eyes, in any case. The other eyes bulging through Jonah’s skin – bloodshot, rolling and twitching in all directions, and glowing a repellent shade of green – belong to the Watcher, and all they contain is a cold, measured fascination. Jon wonders absently whether they might cluster beneath the skin as well, a fitting mirror of Albrecht von Closen’s gruesome fate. Martin would have appreciated the poetic justice of that thought.

Jon takes a step forward.

“I don’t think I’ll ever know what they expected to happen.”

The Archive’s voice rips through the silence like a clap of thunder on a clear day. There is something of a command threaded through the words, a power that brooks no argument and permits no lies. Jonah flinches at the force of it, and Jon takes that as his cue to continue; he has Jonah’s full attention now.

“It’s weird, isn’t it, the things that can change your life?” Jon wonders, briefly, how Tim would feel about his statement being repurposed like this. Hopefully he would approve, seeing the way Elias – Jonah – is rendered silent and cowed in its wake, even if Jon’s voice is the vehicle. Either way, stolen words are Jon’s only option, and so he presses on: “You can plan for all the devastating, terrible possibilities you can imagine, and it’ll always be those tiny, unexpected things that get you. You know, the things that you never even noticed as they were happening, just… just nudging everything into motion. But even if there was a way I could have known, I really don’t think I’d be able to have stopped him.”

When Jonah opens his mouth as if to speak, Jon catches a glimpse of a roving eye sprouting from Jonah’s tongue. What comes out is not words, but a small spider, creeping languidly over his lip and up his cheek, as if summoned by the Archive’s mere mention of manipulation. Even from a distance, Jon can See all eight of its eyes focus on him.

The Spider perches there, patient and waiting. Whether she is issuing an invitation, a challenge, or simple, curious observation, the Archive does not know, and Jon will not waste his energy searching for the answer.

Curiosity always was Jonathan Sims’ fatal flaw. It can be an asset in small doses, but Jon habitually took it to endangering and self-destructive extremes. By now he has learned how to wield that curiosity with precision, patience, and careful calculation. It was a lesson hard won and at great cost, but now he knows: there is a difference between a constructive avenue of inquiry and a dead end. One leads to answers that need knowing; the other only sates the Eye’s voracious appetite and leaves Jon adrift and wanting. The trick is to prioritize – which means accepting the existence of questions that aren’t worth asking.

The Eye balks at an unsolved mystery, and the Archive’s every instinct drives Jon to seek, to ask, to know at any and all costs – but this is not the first time he has weathered the dueling instincts of Archive, Archivist, and human, and it will not be the last. If he stands in the crossfire long enough, breathes through the dissonance, and allows himself to simply exist as the strange, contradictory gestalt his apotheosis has made him… eventually, he can find the quiet.

In any case, the Archive’s eyes outnumber the Spider’s by far, and Jon meets her gaze with a resolve that still feels new and untested, but unyielding nonetheless. Neither of them blink, but the Spider does eventually – slowly, so slowly – crawl away and out of sight.

A stalemate. Jon expected nothing more or less; these confrontations with the Web never have a satisfying conclusion, only a protracted, stop-and-start hiatus.

When Jon feels the Spider’s presence fade away, he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. For all his bravado, the fear never has gone away. He suspects that the Eye would never give him the choice in the first place. It isn’t enough to Know or See the contents of his library – he has to live them, feel them, share in them, or else the knowledge is not comprehensive. The Beholding requires more than facts and words and retellings. It demands the insight and dread that comes only from lived experience, and it has no use for an Archive that cannot fully experience its own catalog.

If Jon was given the choice, though, he still wouldn’t give up the fear. It’s the fabric of this world, which makes it a reliable anchor as long as it exists. It tethers him to his humanity; it reminds him of his reason; it keeps him moving forward.

And so, he approaches the Watcher’s throne, and the Archive resumes its recitation:

“I continue to see in you the reflection of my own past hubris.”

It’s a nice touch, Jon thinks, using Robert Smirke’s dying words to rub salt in the wound, and the surge of stunned outrage on Jonah’s face confirms that for him.

“Why does a man seek to destroy the world?"

Jonah’s human eyes widen ever so slightly as he recognizes his own words.

“…you would quite willingly doom that world and confine the billions in it to an eternity of terror and suffering, all to ensure your own happiness, to place yourself beyond pain and death and fear.”

Jon kneels before the throne, a mocking gesture of fealty to a man who so arrogantly believed that he was to be –

“…a king of a ruined world” – he pauses, fast-forwarding the statement in his mind, picking through disparate fragments to cobble together something that can convey his intended meaning – “had miscalculated.” Another pause, and then: “The ritual failed."

Jonah squirms against his bindings, though whether it is in fear or frustration or anger, Jon does not know. He does not need to know, and he strangles that alien part of him that wants to taste exactly what flavor of distress struggles in front of him. He refuses to feed the Eye, even if it is at Jonah’s expense.

“…as much a victim as any” – Jon gives a curt nod to indicate Jonah – “trapped in the nightmare landscape of a twisted world.”

When he sees the glint of the knife, Jonah’s eyes widen further and he redoubles his thrashing. Jon is flooded with memories of his month held captive by the Circus – rough ropes chafing at his bare skin; cold, plastic hands slathering him in strong-smelling lotions; the bruises that lingered long after he escaped through the Spiral’s door. Part of him wishes that he could enjoy seeing Jonah like this – the one who orchestrated that trauma and so many others – but all he feels is that familiar revulsion that rises up in him any time he catches a whiff of shea butter.

Another, louder part of him is relieved to find that even after everything, he still can’t quite bring himself to find pleasure in torture.

Taking revenge on Jude Perry, obliterating the NotThem – it felt good in the immediate aftermath, to make them appreciate the terror and pain they had wrought, to stand in their presence not as a victim but as a long-overdue consequence. As soon as the adrenaline wore off, though, he would always crash. Whether or not they deserved their fates was never what haunted him the most. It was the simple act of using the same power that destroyed the world that always left him feeling sick, guilty, divorced from what remained of his humanity, and terrified of what he could become if he embraced his role as the Archive. It felt good in the same way that stealing live statements used to, and that terrified him.

Still, Jon has a point to make. He draws the knife to Jonah’s face and holds the tip mere centimetres from his right eye, poised to strike. Jonah freezes and Jon stares him down. The Archive’s uncountable eyes open wide and focus laser-like on a single point, and he waits for the would-be king to blink first.

And he does.

With that, Jon stands and drops the knife. As it clatters to the floor, Jonah opens his human eyes ever so slightly, looking at the discarded weapon and then back to his Archive with uncertainty etched onto his face.

“…didn’t even have the decency to kill me,” the Archive says. Jon swallows down a reflexive wave of revulsion at the memory of Peter Lukas’ voice, but he needs Jonah to understand this choice his Archivist has made, to truly appreciate the fate to which he is being condemned.

The Archive reaches for Gertrude next:“They might even stop death entirely, deny us the one last escape, keeping us alive and afraid – forever.”

It takes a moment for the words to sink in, but slowly, ever so slowly, the existential terror dawns in Jonah’s eyes. His greatest fear may have always been mortality, but faced with the reality of what an immortal existence could actually entail, well…

“You’ll get used to it here, in the world that we have made."

Jonah Magnus’ own triumphant declaration reverberates through the space in the voice of the Archive he forced into being. The words sound as smug and gleeful as they did the first time the Archivist read them to an empty room, on the day he opened the door.

Behind it all, though, is Jonathan Sims. Not the Archive, not the Archivist, just… Jon. He feels no catharsis, no gratification, no closure. He just feels tired.

But he didn’t come all this way to the Panopticon just to monologue at Jonah Magnus. This is the stronghold of the Eye, and that makes it Jon’s best chance of actually communing with the Beholding.

He places the tape recorder on the floor next to the knife and turns his back on the man who sought to reign over a desolated world. As Jon walks away, the recorder clicks on, and the Archive’s final statement begins to play:

“There is a tower at the center of creation…”

__________________________________

End notes:

- Jon’s dialogue is taken from the statements in the following episodes, in order: MAG 85; MAG 149; MAG 098; MAG 027; MAG 137; MAG 104; MAG 138; MAG 160 (x4); MAG 159; MAG 162; MAG 160 (again).

#the magnus archives #tma fic #tma #tma spoilers #long post

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enchantedbride · 4 years

Text

A Ballad of Brimstone.02 (1/2)

<02. But Let Me Go Back to the Start> (1/2)

Tagging: @curiousobsession101, @goldenworldsabound, @foreveryours-mouse, @juliannos

Warning(s): Brief Profanity, Discussions of Being Kidnapped

A/N: If you like me to tag you in my Obey Me or other Self-ship writings, let me know!

As mentioned in the previous installment, this series of ficlets will be jumping around timeline wise. While the first one offers a glimpse into the future, we now go back to the day Joey was summoned to the Devildom to take part in the exchange program.

Due to how long this wound up being I wound up splitting this into two parts, this is part one of two!

She had slipped into a dark slumber that night. Her mind was held by dreams she wouldn’t remember when she awoke in the morning. But, she would remember the sound of soft, beckoning whispers. In the midst of her dreams, they didn’t seem out of place, almost blending into the surreal sensations he mind conjured.

“Come,” they said. “Come this way. Come to us, into the dark below.”

It was like a round, but the words were spoken rather than sung.

Joey felt a sudden, sharp feeling of hesitation that broke through the murkiness of her dreams. But, in response the whispers became more insistent, and she felt the vague sensation of being pulled away. But to where, she didn’t have the awareness to question.

“You must come. Your fate has been decreed.”

Weakly, she tried to pull back against what was pulling her. At first she stopped, but then a more forceful tug overpowered her.

“Come this way,” the whispers insisted once more. “Come... come...”

It started to feel almost like she was falling. Or perhaps she was floating? It was hard for her to tell the difference. She felt the sensation of cloth and hair fluttering, and then-

A high-pitched voice severed the hold of sleep on her.

“She’s waking up. Everyone stand back and let Mister Barbatos through!”

The next thing she sensed was the feeling of pain and throbbing in her temples. Then, she felt the surface underneath her was harder than she remembered her bed being. Joey let out a groan as she slowly opened her eyes.

“Ow...”

The soft light of what appeared to be distant lamps came into view, only to briefly be obscured by a round, inky silhouette. But, as her brows knit and she attempted to understand what she was seeing, she made out the shape of a pair of small, dark blue eyes looking at her before they disappeared. A moment later, the silhouette was gone.

“It looks like she had a rough ride, sir.”

“So it seems,” a voice lower in tone replied to the high-pitched one she heard first. “Lord Diavolo’s suspicions and mine were correct, it appears. Truly extraordinary for a human who appears to have no magic potential.”

Joey turned her head towards the voices, putting her hands to her temples as she attempted to soothe her headache with gentle circular motions. She saw what appeared to be a man in a suit kneeling down in front of her.

“Please try not to move just yet.”

“O-okay.” Joey didn’t move from where she was or change her position, but she kept her fingers to her head. “Sorry, my head really hurts.” What’s going on here? Am I still dreaming?

“No need to apologize,” he assured her. “Here, take your hands away for a moment.”

She complied, resting her hands on either side of her. She felt...was it stone underneath her? It was also at that moment Joey recognized an array of other noises in the background. She could hear the flow of water, the soft pattering of feet, and the distant caw of crows.

“I’m going to touch your forehead,” he explained. “Is that alright?”

“Yeah.” Is he going to check me for a fever?

Joey felt him gently press the tips of his fingers to her forehead, and whisper something she couldn’t quite make out. No, I don’t think this is a dream. This feels too stable to not be real. But then, why am I not in my bed? Where am I? ...Ah! Suddenly, she felt the throbbing pain begin to subside.

“There. Does that feel better?”

“Yes, I’m starting to feel better!” Joey replied. But then she blinked in surprise. “Did you do that? If so, thank you!”

“Indeed,” he confirmed. “I used a minor incantation to ease your pain. It was no trouble.”

“Incantation?” Joey asked. “As in...? You used magic? Real magic?” Or maybe I am dreaming after all?

“Yes,” the man answered her without hesitation. “I take it you’re not the sort of person who believes in magic?”

“Well...” Joey however, did hesitate. “I’ve always wanted to believe there was magic. But I’ve never really seen it. Or... recognized it, I guess.”

“I see. I’m afraid you may have a hard time accepting your current set of circumstances then.”

“You mean, where I am and what’s going on?”

“Precisely.” The man withdrew his hand from her slightly, moving to offer it to her. “Do you think you can stand? If so, try to get up slowly. You can use my hand for support if you’d like.”

“I think so.” Joey pressed her hands to the ground for a moment to help herself sit up. She then took him up on his offer, taking the offered hand to use as leverage to carefully bring herself to her feet. She took a breath for a moment, closing her eyes and opening them again to better take in her surroundings.

“Who are you?” It appeared to be nighttime. The sky was dark with distant stars offering little in the way of light. But there were lamps close by more clearly illuminating stone walkways. They went every which way around a fountain and a bed of flowers that wrapped around it. Though the flowers were nothing like anything Joey recognized.

The air also carried with it smells she didn’t recognize either.

“Ah, of course. I should introduce myself. My name is Barbatos,” said the man. “I believe I already know who you are, however. Your name is Joey Andews, correct?”

“Yes, my name is Joey. But, how do you already know my name?” As if things weren’t already weird enough, she thought.

Barbatos simply smiled. “I’m afraid that will require me first to answer your original questions about what’s happening and where you are. Allow me to start with the latter.” He paused for a moment, looking away from her. Joey followed it and realized that eventually the walkways all went into a large building that surrounded them on all sides.

A courtyard of some kind? Joey wondered. She turned her attention back to him and nodded.

“You’re in a place called the Devildom,” explained Barbatos. “It is the realm of Demonkind, ruled by the Demon King in name. Although my master, his son and heir Prince Diavolo has been governing the realm for some time.” He paused, looking back at her. “It was his wish and his will that brought you here.”

Bewilderment spread across Joey’s face. There was also a knot of fear beginning to form in the pit of her stomach. “The land of Demonkind? Where I come from the name for where demons live is...”

“Hell?” Barbatos cut in to predict the end of her thought. “The realm that sinful and evil human’s souls are banished to in death? Oh, that’s certainly part of it, but there’s more to our realm than most humans speak of to one another.”

Joey felt the instinctive need to take a step back, but she restrained herself. “Okay, so I’m in the realm of Demons. And Prince Diavolo brought me here. Have I got the story straight so far?”

“Indeed you do,” Barbatos confirmed. “Unfortunately there was a bit of a mishap in trying to get you here. You have quite the strong will it seems, Miss Andrews.” At this he laughed. “You resisted my master’s call to the point that you went off course and wound up a bit further away then where you were supposed to appear. But, I was sent to fetch you and guide you to where Lord Diavolo is at present.”

My dream... “I-I see.” But what would a prince of demons want with me? What’s going to happen to me!?

“Your willpower will serve you well here. You may not have magic to protect you, but you have that, at least.” He remarked. “But, I digress. Lord Diavolo has summoned you here to assist him with an undertaking of his- an exchange program between the realms of demons, humans, and angels.”

“An exchange program...?” Joey questioned him. “You make it sound like he intends me to be a student in a school down here.” She of course was joking. Surely he meant something else.

Barbatos laughed once more. “Actually, that’s precisely what he intends.” He turned away again. “We are currently in the courtyard of the Royal Diavolo Academy, or RAD for short as it’s often called. I would say it most closely resembles a university or other similar institutions you may find in the human world,” he explained. “My master founded the school long ago, but he is also enrolled here as a student and serves as President of the Student Council. He is forever trying to improve himself and the Devildom, and thus is forever on a quest to learn, and encourage others to do the same.”

“That’s... quite an admirable thing.” Joey found herself struggling to word what she wanted to say. “So, I’m to be a student at this Royal Diavolo Academy?”

“Exactly.” Barbatos nodded. “You will be joined by two other humans like yourself and three Angels who hail from the Celestial Realm. We’ve sent three of our own to the Celestial Realm, and another three to the Human world to attend schools there for the duration of the exchange, which will be a year on Earth.

“My master’s hope is to foster understanding and respect among angels, humans, and demons, and bring a peace between the realms not seen before. It truly is an ambitious project, I must admit.”

“No kidding!” Joey blinked, face shifting between expressions as she attempted to process everything she was being told. “If what little I know of demons and angels has taught me anything, is peace between them and humans is not an easy thing to achieve. Most people believe it’s impossible.”

“Many angels and demons believe that as well,” Barbatos noted. “But my lord believes otherwise. And, I am certain it lies within the realm of possibility.”

“So then...” Certain pieces began to fall together in her mind. “Was I specifically chosen for this? It wasn’t random or anything? Is that why you know my name?”

“Well... there was an element of randomness to the selection. You were chosen from among many other humans we had information on. But you were specifically chosen from among them, and it is indeed why I know your name.”

Joey thought for a moment. “I think I get the gist of what you're telling me so far,” she said. “But, I’m also wary. And I want to know if I’m allowed to turn this down and ask to be sent home.”

At this Barbatos sighed. “Your wariness is not unwarranted. As to whether you can refuse... you may certainly voice it, but I’m not sure it will be granted. When Lord Diavolo has his mind set on something, it is hard to get him to change course, even if he already has doubts about what he’s doing.That and well... he’s very much used to getting his way, being the Prince of Demons.”

After a moment, Joey raised an eyebrow. One thing was now abundantly clear, and she felt it needed to be said.

“So basically what you’re telling me is I’ve been kidnapped.”

Barbatos fell silent, his brow furrowing as he put his hand to his chin. Joey wasn’t an excellent judge when it came to reading the expressions of others. But were she to take a guess, he was considering what he said next carefully.

This can’t be happening! She screamed internally. You’re telling me demons, angels, and magic are all real. You’re telling me I’ve been snatched by demons to attend what’s basically demon college for... a year he said? This is just... unbelievable! You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!

“I won’t pretend it is otherwise,” Barbatos finally spoke. “I imagine this is a lot for you to take in. And further still, it must be frightening to be here without prior knowledge and against your will. I doubt you can persuade my master to let you leave and choose another to replace you. You can try if you so like, but I suspect it will prove futile. I can offer you little assurance but this: Diavolo is a demon of honesty. He can tell if anyone is lying, but more importantly to you at this moment, he also never lies. He has made it clear he only intends for the exchange students to attend for a year, and when that year is over, you will be free to go. He will honor his word.”

Joey raised an eyebrow, causing Barbatos to sigh. “I’m sorry I just... I’d certainly like to believe that’s the case. But, it’s kind of hard to be trusting right now given that I was brought here without my consent. And I don’t know you or your master,” said Joey. “But... I do appreciate your attempt to reassure me nonetheless.”

“I’m afraid it’s all I can offer you, Miss Andrews.” Barbatos replied regretfully. “Well... that and perhaps fetching you a change of clothes. I don’t think it would be best to have your first audience with the Prince of Demons in your nightgown.”

“I...” Joey looked down at herself a moment. “Yeah, I suppose that might not be such a bad idea.”

Barbatos smiled, chuckling softly before he became serious once more. ��All things considered, I think you’re being rather restrained in your anger about this. And at least somewhat willing to give the benefit of the doubt in spite of your anger.”

“Yeah well...” I’ve just been conditioned to lose my shit internally instead of externally, thanks for noticing. “I’ve always been pretty good at rolling with the punches so to speak.”

“I see.” Barbatos offered a hand. “Well, why don’t we get you changed? I’ll escort you to the assembly hall after.” Joey nodded and took his hand following him down one of the walkways. She noticed Barbatos turn his head and nod to a small shadow with eyes before it faded into the darkness a moment later. She then remembered the silhouette she saw when she first awoke. Another demon? Perhaps a helper to Barbatos, maybe?

This is insane! How do I know I can even trust any of this? How do I know they aren’t just going to… I don’t know, eat me or trap my soul in eternal torment? It seemed all she could really do for now was follow Barbatos and have her audience with his master. Part of her hoped this really was a dream of sorts and that soon she would wake up.

Barbatos took Joey to another part of the building, bringing her into an empty room. A few moments passed in silence between the two before the door opened. A round little creature came scurrying in, and Joey recognized from their eyes that it was the little demon she’d seen before. The demon carried a neatly folded pile of clothing and a hair brush above their head, kneeling down as they presented the pile to Barbatos.

She was then handed the pile and left to herself in the empty room in order to get changed and tidied up. But, as she did so, Joey stayed close to the door, faintly hearing the sound of a phone ringing from just outside. She tried her best to listen in, while also navigating the garments she had been given.

“Apologies, my lord. We will be a little later than expected. It seems she was in nightclothes when she arrived. She’s been given a change of clothes and once she’s dressed and given a chance to tidy up we’ll head down to the assembly hall.”

He’s talking to Prince Diavolo. There was a brief pause, presumably in which there was a reply given.

“I deeply appreciate your patience and good humor in this matter. I promise we’ll be there soon,” said Barbatos. “Miss Andrews is understandably wary and skeptical. But, she’s… surprisingly more composed than I would have expected.” Another pause, but briefer this time. “Has the meeting with the other exchange student already concluded then? … I see. So Mammon is already on his way with her back to the House of Lamentation.”

Joey didn’t take too long to finish dressing herself, smoothing out the wrinkles in the simple dress she was given and tapping the heels of the shoes that came with it. She then quickly brushed her hair and tidied herself up a bit, taking a deep breath before turning the knob of the door to let Barbatos know she was changed and ready. The little demon was outside as well, and took the brush from her before scurrying off into the shadows again.

Barbatos nodded and began to guide her again down the halls of the academy. The interior had an antique, stately feeling to it in terms of aesthetics. But things seemed too spacious for Joey’s personal liking. And shadows seemed to stretch far across the floor.

Eventually they came down a long hallway that seemed to go for some distance. As they walked, Joey could swear she heard the soft sound of sniffling up ahead. Was someone crying? There was also the patter of footsteps that didn’t belong to her or Barbatos.

From behind the corner she saw what appeared to be a man and a woman passing the opposite way. The man seemed to wear a black uniform with his shirt and tie askew, while the woman was dressed in a pair of blue jeans with a baggy t-shirt and tennis shoes.

Once they got closer, it became clear where the source of the sniffling Joey heard before came from. The woman was attempting to rub tears from her eyes and compose herself. Wait… could this be the other exchange student and Mammon that Barbatos spoke of over the phone? I guess they haven’t actually left just yet.

God, she must be so scared.

Joey stopped and attempted to cross to where they were. “Hold on just a sec,” She requested of Barbatos before quickly switching her attention. She couldn’t do much about her situation, but maybe she could at least comfort her fellow captive.

“Excuse me!” Joey called out, returning to a normal tone of voice when she was close enough. “Ma’am, are you alright?”

“Huh?” The man whom she presumed was Mammon noticed her approach and turned around to face her. But, only a moment later he also noticed Barbatos waiting for Joey not too far away. “Barbatos!” He then briefly turned his attention back to Joey. “I guess that means you must be the other human.” He looked back at the woman accompanying him, his brow furrowing. “As if it wasn’t already bad enough I got saddled with babysitting duty.”

Joey registered him addressing her, but continued to approach the other woman. When she didn’t seem to respond to him, the man blocked her path, a clearly annoyed expression on his face.

“Hey! I was talking to you. Show some proper respect for the Great Mammon, human!”

Joey stopped, briefly looking apologetic. So she was right. “Sorry about that. Yeah, I’m the other human exchange student.… I saw my fellow exchange student in distress and I wanted to help them.” She took a split second to think more on what he said and had an idea. I need to convince him to be more favorable so he’ll let me talk. “Again though, you have my apologies, oh great one.”

“Now that’s more like it!” Mammon smiled approvingly. But it was quickly replaced by a frown. “Look, I’m under orders from my older brother Lucifer to take your fellow human back to where the two of you will be staying. If I dawdle for too long he might think I’m slacking off.” He shook his head. “Not that I’m scared of him or anything! Just don’t want anymore trouble than I’m already dealing with. I can’t let you two stay and chat, we need to keep moving.”

“You can’t even spare a minute?” Joey tried to fumble for an excuse he might buy. “I mean, if you’ve got a lot on your plate, having a sniffling human must be grating on your nerves right? Well, if you give me a couple of minutes to talk to her and she calms a bit it’ll be one less thing, right?”

A moment passed. Mammon shook his head, looking back and forth between the two humans. The other woman looked to Joey hopefully.

“You’ve got two minutes,” Mammon finally decided. “But I’m not giving you any more. Make it quick, human.”

Joey nodded. “Thank you so much! I appreciate this.” She walked passed up to the woman, not noticing Mammon’s awkward body language or hearing his muttered ‘yeah yeah whatever’ under his breath.

The other woman pulled her hand away from her face and looked over to Joey. “H-Hi….”

“Hi,” Joey greeted her, a sympathetic expression forming on her face. “My name is Joey. What’s yours?”

“I’m… I’m Katherine, but I usually go by Kat,” she replied. “Are… are you okay? I heard them say you ended up somewhere you weren’t supposed to.”

“Me? Oh, nothing too major. I’m not hurt or anything. Just a bit, well, out of sorts to put it mildly.” Joey huffed. “I’ll be fine. I wanted to see how YOU were doing.”

“I’m terrified!” Kat explained without reservation. “I’ve been taken away from my home! And they won’t let me go back no matter how much I plead. It’s not fair!”

Joey shook her head. “You’re right, it’s not. It sounds like you were taken here against your will too. I’m really sorry. It’s not right. But, unfortunately it doesn’t seem we can do much about that right now. It sucks, but that’s the truth of it.” Joey tried to think quickly before Mammon would insist on her and Kat parting ways. “Hey, is there anything you like to do when you’re stressed out? Or maybe a favorite drink or food you like that’s calming for you?”

“Well…” She thought for a moment. “Mostly I like to go for a run by myself or practice playing my cello. I don’t have my cello though and I don’t think they’d let me go for a run by myself.”

“I see,” Joey replied. “Anything else?”

“I also… sometimes take hot baths. Especially when it’s been cold out.”

“That might work! If it’s possible, when you get to where you’re going to be staying, maybe you can try and take a hot bath as soon as you can? It’s not much but maybe it might help, even just a little.”

“I don’t know,” Kat hesitated. “It just feels like everything is just crazy.”

“Completely understandable,” Joey answered sympathetically. “But maybe giving yourself a little comfort and a chance to destress a bit might help you to think and come down from a state of panic. Maybe there’s not a lot you can do right now, but you can do that, right?”

Kat paused briefly. “I guess so,” she said with a sigh. “Alright. I’ll feel worse if I don’t do anything at all, so I might as well.” She turned her gaze away and then back. “Thank you. For trying to help, I mean.”

I couldn’t just sit by and do nothing, thought Joey.

Kat turned to Mammon. “Sorry for holding things up. I’m ready to go now.” Mammon nodded and started walking, Kat following after him.

“Alright, let’s go!” He answered. “Don’t fall too far behind me, human. It’s my job to keep an eye on you and I don’t want to get blamed if something happens to you.”

Joey was unsure of her true impact on things. But at least now her mind would be at ease knowing she at least tried. But, thanks to the conversation, something else was also on her mind. Kat pleaded to be sent home and she was refused. I guess if she couldn’t convince them my luck might not be so good either. I guess I really should be prepared to be stuck here for a year.

“That was a very brave thing you did,” Barbatos remarked. “Especially considering who you were talking to.”

“You mean Kat? Or Mammon?” Joey asked, confused for a moment. She walked back to Barbatos, waiting for him to start their trek to the assembly hall again.

“I was referring to Mammon in this case,” Barbatos clarified. “He may not look like it as he is now. But, he is a very powerful demon. Among the most powerful in fact.”

Joey blinked looking back in surprise. “Wow, seriously?”

“All members of the Student Council are high ranking demons. Currently, the council includes Prince Diavolo, his right hand, Lucifer, and Lucifer’s six brothers.” Barbatos began to walk, Joey following in step alongside him this time. “Lucifer and his brothers are the avatars of the seven deadly sins, not demons any human should approach too casually under most circumstances. Mammon is the eldest brother after Lucifer and the Avatar of Greed.”

Joey’s eyes widened. “So Mammon’s got some serious weight to throw around.” I guess I really lucked out in managing to flatter my way into trying to help Kat.

“Yes.”

“I’m not so sure that makes me brave,” she replied to Barbatos.

“Would you have ignored your instinct to try and help your fellow human if you knew who it was you were dealing with?”

“Well,” Joey barely paused to give her answer. “No, not really. I might have been more nervous and pessimistic about my chances of persuading him. But, I still would have tried for her sake.”

“Then your actions are no less brave, Miss Andrews,” Barbatos said with a smile. “Now, if you’ll come with me this way, we are nearly at the assembly hall.”

Joey nodded, and attempted to keep pace with Barbatos down a winding and even more spacious hallway. Eventually they came upon a large set of metal doors, with ornate decorations embossed into them. If Joey were to take a guess, this was it. The assembly hall. She followed right up to the doors. And then, Barbartos reached out, pulling on the handle.

“Wait one moment. I need to speak with my lord for a moment. But then, you may enter the assembly hall.”

Indeed he went inside and was gone for maybe a minute or two. She could hear voices but they were muffled from this side of the door. Eventually, Barbatos came back out, pulling the door open and stepping aside for Joey to walk through.

“Right this way.”

Joey began to make her way inside, but not before turning to Barbartos.

“Thanks for helping me get here, and for explaining everything you did Barbatos. I’d be pretty terrified and lost right now otherwise.” I’m still pretty terrified to be honest. But at least I know what I’m dealing with.

“It was no trouble, and it was my express duty to assist you as per my lord’s orders. But, your thanks is appreciated. I wish you the best of luck, whatever your fate may be.”

With that, Joey stepped inside and Barbatos closed the door behind her.

#tales of a magus (fanfiction)#verse (into the dark and back: obey me)#modern persephone (obey me!joey)

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mychemicalficrecs · 4 years

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could i get a rec list of long (30k+) frank-centric any pairing fics? (preferably not in first person, and if there's smut with bottom frank)…weirdly specific but at least i know what i like?

Being specific is totally fine! Depending on what it is you’re looking for, it can even be super helpful :) I originally thought this would be difficult, but it turns out I already had all of these in my bookmarks. It didn’t specifically check for bottom!Frank though (sorry).

Frank-centric Longfic

Gerard Way's (Vampire) Detective Agency by jjtaylor, Pennyplainknits, mainly Frank/Gerard, 164k, Mature. Pete, in Decaydance Mansion, with a yarrow stake. Frank and Gerard, in the greenhouse, with a plant of questionable origin. Bob, everywhere you look, with a gang of assassins for justice. Vampires, valets, pamphlets, haunted furniture, dub-thrall, disembodied voices, zombie couriers, and sinister rituals.

Nightswimming by waxjism, Frank/Gerard, 141k, Not Rated. My Teenage Romance

Unholyverse by Bexless, Frank/Gerard, Ray/Mikey, 187k, Mature, Explicit. Religion! Horror! Exorcisms! Piercings! And Gerard is a priest.

Illyria (King and Country) by tabulaxrasa, Frank/Gerard, 57k, Explicit. Today, they'd woken up and Gerard was King of Illyria. Frank hasn't really been a stable boy since he ended up in the archduke's bed, but now Gerard's exile is over and he's king. Frank has to survive court, politics, and scheming nobles to figure out exactly what he is now.

Stunning Someone by morbid_beauty, Frank/Gerard, 82k, Explicit. Frankie, a tattoo artist living in Brooklyn, has basically everything ze wants...except, like, someone to cuddle with at night. As lame as that sounds. Gerard, an art student living in Manhattan, meets someone of questionable gender and starts a friendship with an unrequited crush. (Or: the one where Frankie is genderfluid, Gerard is kind of ignorant to much of the queer community, and sometimes you just fall for a stunning someone.)

Envision the Magic by innocent_wolves, Frank/Gerard, 69k, Teen And Up Audiences. Gerard is a talented magician, responsible for much of the success of the famous Envision Destiny cruise ship. He's also one of those people. You know, one of those people who just seem to take up all the space they come across with their arrogance and confidence. You wouldn't wanna touch their personality with a 10-foot pole, but still people admire them. That is beyond Frank. Working behind the cruise ship bars and seeing Gerard pretty much every day, he can't understand what's so great about him. Besides, everybody else doesn't have to deal with his snide remarks and rude comments. Because if there's one thing Gerard seems to love, it's the act of constantly pestering Frank.

Truths That He Learned by gala_apples, Frank/Mikey, Patrick/Mikey/Pete, Ashlee/Patrick/Pete, 37k, Explicit. It's Frank's senior year, and it seems like he's constantly having new experiences, at least half of which come as a complete surprise to him. He falls in love, comes out, and has sex, not necessarily in that order.

Fit to be tied by maryangel, Frank/Gerard, 56k, Explicit. Frank is a bartender. Gerard is an alcoholic. They were clearly made for each other. Also, Frank is a werewolf.

Only Going One Way by ataratah, jjtaylor, Frank/Gerard, 73k, Mature. Crossover with due South. Constable Gerard Way of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and Detective Frank Iero of the Chicago PD team up find Mikey Way in a city where bowling alley score cards hide secret codes, where the good guys are either lying or undercover (and sometimes lying about being undercover), and where criminal bakers make drug-laced frosting.

James Cameron Got It Wrong by ladyfoxxx, Frank/Fun Ghoul/Party Poison, 57k, Explicit. In which 2005!Frank and Fun Ghoul get it on. Then Frank accidentally winds up in 2019.

Rock and Roll Never Looked so Beautiful by corruptedkid, Frank/Gerard, 58k, Explicit. Gerard Way is a rising solo artist, set to become the next big thing in the alternative scene. Frank Iero is a trashy punk with a reputation of his own as the frontman of Pencey Prep. When their paths cross, a love story is born, only to come crashing down when Gerard hits it big. As Gerard ascends to the A-list, Frank adjusts to life on his own. He almost manages it - until two years later, when fate puts him face to face with Gerard once more. Everything has changed, but the connection between them is still there. Their story has ended once before, but if they're lucky, they just might make a new one.

I never told you what I do for a living. by not0-fuckin-kay, Frank/Gerard, 60k+, PG-13 to NC-17. Frank Iero, male nurse at Pete Wentz's private hospital and possibly more to one new patient he can't keep his eyes off of. When a new pateint is brought in with amnesia, just days before Christmas, and with nothing but the clothes on his back and a strange drawing, it's left to Frank to find out who he is and what happened to him. When he does, it changes Frank's life forever, as he's thrust into love and health scares he never thought would complicate his life. This is the story of how he tries to make it through, juggling his job and his love-life and just trying to make things better. With Patrick the doctor, Bob the ward supervisor, Travis the unlikely therapist, and Mikey, the sometimes wannabe homicidal geek.

and me here on the ground by ohnoktcsk, Frank/Gerard, 32k, Explicit. Frank's worked hard to build a life for himself in the city of Jersey, where dragons swoop and dive over the river, and every day is divided by the ringing of the city bells. He knows the streets of the city like he knows the the tattoos on the backs of his hands, and he's content with what he has: a job as a bike courier, friends who love to give him shit, and a crush on a professor of art history at the local university. But he's also got a secret—one he's been running from for a long time. But all it takes is one delivery to a mysterious, quite-probably-magical bookshop to show Frank that there are some things you can’t outrun. Especially since he’s finally found a place that he doesn’t want to leave.

Companion by onceuponamoon, Frank/Gerard, 34k, Explicit. A workplace AU. There’s a dude sitting in one of the high-backed chairs opposite the reception desk. Mostly obscured by a fake ficus plant between them, the guy probably wouldn’t have been noticeable save for the lazy sprawl of his legs, the Chucks contrasting against the floral rug.

Your Heart The Only Place That I Call Home by dear_monday, Frank/Gerard, 30k, Explicit. When Frank and his crew of morally ambiguous ethernauts (pirates, as Imperial law would have it, but that's such an ugly word) fetch up on the doorstep of the fabled Sanctuary, they aren't expecting to find much - least of all a long-lost brother, a garden in a box and the key to an ancient riddle.

Give Me a Reason by mistresscurvy, Lindsey/Frank/Jamia/Gerard and most variants thereof, 38k, Explicit. July 2007. Frank is fucking stoked for the next tour. This one will be the best ever, because his wife's gonna be with him the entire time. They've been married for less than six months, and he still can't fucking believe he got to marry her. This summer is going to rock. But life never happens as he plans.

In Repair by autoschediastic, Frank/Gerard, 33k, Explicit. "Shit," Frank mutters, and shoves both hands through his hair. He looks around the kitchen like he's gonna find what he should do scratched into the old linoleum, then looks back at the bot. He gnaws on his lip. Fuck it. He already knows what he's gonna do. He's just gotta do it. Getting down on his knees, he braces a hand on the edge of the crate and leans over the bot. It's dressed in a plain white tee and matching drawstring pants like an escaped mental patient. Frank rolls his neck and cracks his knuckles, shaking the ache out of them before carefully laying his palm against its cheek. He's pretty sure his voice is steady when he says, "Activate." Nothing happens. Fucking shitty packaging-- the thing's busted. But Frank keeps his hand where it is, jumping a little when he feels the surge of energy beneath it. The robot's skin goes from room temperature to lukewarm, then warm. Frank watches it open its eyes, the light behind them adjusting until they're a pale sort of brown. It looks at him and asks, "Am I dead?"

Promises, Promises by silentdescant, Frank/Gerard, 31k, Explicit. "Sources on our investigative team say this was a bank robbery gone wrong, and that, when faced with a police task force surrounding the building, the suspect grabbed the nearest person and is now holding that young man at gunpoint as he makes his getaway."

Cover To Cover by silentdescant, Frank/Gerard, 32k, Explicit. You've Got Mail AU. Frank owns The Shop Around The Corner, which specializes in classic and rare books, and Gerard is opening up a large branch of Way Books & Café down the street. They meet online and fall in love.

Love: The Package Deal by jjtaylor, Frank/Gerard, Lindsey/Frank/Jamia/Gerard, 30k, Mature. Gerard gets a special kind of amnesia. Frank gets to reexamine his idea of acceptable relationship structures. Lots of people fail to communicate effectively, but they all sure remember how to kiss.

Let The Darkness Lead You Home by rivers_bend, Frank/Gerard, 49k, Explicit. Vampires are in charge and most of the humans on earth are prey, so Frank Iero's parents have him train as a cyber tech to protect him. Leaving the family he's born into may have saved his life, but his parents never could have expected the lengths he'd go to in order to find a new family to call home.

Gross roomies by turps, Frank/Mikey, 36k, Explicit. Frank loves living with Mikey. Sure, the apartment is a mess, the kitchen's a toxic wasteland, and there's something growing in the refrigerator that's just a day or two away from becoming sentient, but other than those minor inconveniences, it's all cool. Or it is until Mikey decides to embark on a journey of sexual discovery and adventure and Frank's left at home with nothing but the fridge monster for company. To make matters worse, Mikey insists on telling Frank everything he does with his new kinky friends, right down to the tiniest detail. And now suddenly Frank is best friends with his right hand and he can't stop thinking about Mikey in ways he never has before. The really big problem, other than suddenly being in lust with his best friend, is that Frank isn't sure why.

Of All The Hidden Corners by moneyes, Frank/Gerard, ~44k, PG-13. An epic, adventurous tale filled with alternate universes, lords, mischief, magical powers, snark, boyfriends, and luck of the bad kind.

Church of Hot Addiction by spleenjournal, 0nlymemories, Frank/Gerard, Frank/Mikey, 36k, Adult. When Gerard Way gets transferred to Our Lady of Peace in Arlington a few weeks into his Senior year, he thinks it's his chance to be cool. Too bad his idea of "cool" is no cooler than it was in 3rd grade, even if there aren't any green tights.

Paradox 'verse by stoplightglow, Frank/Gerard, 42k, Mature. You know the saying. The best part about hitting rock bottom is that you get to meet a hot psychic.

#frank/gerard #ray/mikey #frank/mikey #lindsey/frank/jamia/gerard #fic rec list #longfic

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deejadabbles · 4 years

Text

Spells of Defiance (Atem x Reader x Yugi) Chapter 3

Three: Home

One //// Two //// Three //// Four //// Five //// Six //// Seven //// [ Eight coming soon]

Summary: The Circle of Magicians protects the world from rogue, murderous fey. The police who keep bloodsuckers and flesh-eaters in check. You’ve hunted vampires for years, earning a reputation as one of the best magicians in that field; but what happens when an encounter with a particular vampire makes your already fragile loyalties split?

Supernatural/Demon Hunter AU. Vampire!Atem x Reader x Incubus!Yugi (yes, a polyamorous relationship). Warnings for cursing, vulgar language, violence, and some sexual themes.

This is a fic I’ve already posted this on my AO3 but I wanted to spread the Yu-gi-oh x Reader love here on tumblr.

It was a hunt like any other. You had been on the Marik case for a while and had tracked down a few of his follower's hideouts. There wasn't any reason for you to assume this night would be any different.

It was, and you knew that the moment you approached the abandoned house and heard the unmistakable sounds of a fight. The scene was already bloody when you busted the door open, two vampires were down, and the man who must have done it had a third by the throat. Absurdly, the wild hair caught your attention before his blood-soaked form. Red coated his right arm and the hole in the chest of one vampire left little mystery as to why.

He must have not considered the one he had by the throat a threat at all, because he glanced over his shoulder at you with an almost lazy look. The eyes. Even if you weren't an expert in recognizing his kind, you would have known he was a vampire as well.

"This does not concern you, magician. Leave this trash to me."

His voice was almost innately husky, but that was an observation you had made later because, in that moment, his words sent a shot of annoyance through you.

"Back off, I'm here on official Circle business and you're killing all my witnesses. Stand down," you snapped your fingers and a flame came alive in your hand, "or I'll take you out too."

Something you couldn't define flashed in his eyes, but only for a moment, before his gaze and whole demeanor sharpened in an instant. You had sensed it a second later. More vampires. Closing in fast.

The one crazy-hair had by the throat laughed. "Oh, you bitches are gonna get it now!"

And just like that, you and the vampire you later would know as Atem were a united force. An unspoken truce sparked and when the cultist reinforcements came crashing in, the pair of you were ready for them.

Who knew that crossroad would lead to here?

Out of everything you'd done in the last day or two, clutching to Yugi like a cat to a tree as he soared through the air had to be one of, if not the most terrifying. You wanted to trust that Yugi would not drop you, just as Atem had tried to assure, but you just couldn't help but scream internally the whole time.

So, when he finally touched down on sweet, solid, motionless ground, you wanted to cry out in relief.

Pride wouldn't allow that, of course, so you simply staggered away from your two new companions and silently got your bearings back; saying your prayers of thanks inwardly.

"A-are you okay?" came Yugi's unsure voice, "I'm sorry if I gave you motion sickness, I was trying to keep the jostling down to a minimum!"

"It's fine," you answered, wanting to give him a smile, but opted not to in case it looked forced or pained. Instead, you took another deep breath, then finally straightened up and took in your new surroundings.

You had landed in a backyard by the looks of it. A tall privacy fence walled it and the building before you in. The building was tall, three stories, but narrower than most homes. A small porch with a wooden swing seat led to sliding double doors. The green roofs and awnings, yellow brick, and star-patterned curtains hung in the windows gave it an overall 'cute' look.

"It's nice," you all but blurted. "Your home, I mean. It's nice."

You heard Atem step up beside you and when you looked out of the corner of your eye, you saw him giving you that gentle smile that eased the sharpness of his features. "You should consider it your home as well now."

"Want the grand tour?" Yugi asked as he joined your other side. "Most of the first floor is actually our shop, so I can show you around both if you want."

While you were trying to think of an answer, you noticed that Atem looked down at the ring you had enchanted to protect him from the sun. He then looked up at the sky with an expression that you could only describe as longing crossing his face. Yugi's face fell slightly as he noticed as well and both of you were left staring at the vampire.

"How long with your enchantment work?" Atem asked after a moment.

"Should be good for another hour or so. I tried to make sure it could last you until sunset if needed."

Another stretch of silence, then, "Could we stay out here for a while longer? I... I haven't watched the sunset in so long, I'd like to watch it with both of you, if that's alright."

Yugi smiled at him so sweetly that you could actually feel the deep affection pass between the two. Then, when he turned that look on you, something strange surged in your chest. It felt so odd, almost wrong to be included in such sweet affection, but that wasn't all of what you felt.

"Alright," the answer came easily, almost too easily. "I haven't watched the sunset in a long time either, and the ring should last you until then."

"We should be able to see if from the porch swing," Yugi suggested, still smiling as he ushered both of you onto said porch.

The swing looked like it could only fit three if you were closely squished together, so you automatically opted to stand against the porch railing instead. You crossed your arms, leaned your head against the support beam, and kept your gaze fixed on the horizon as the two men settled down behind you. You only glance behind for a moment to make sure you weren't obscuring their view, before turning back and letting your mind wander as the vampire had his moment in the sun.

Both of them seemed very keen on you staying with them indefinitely, but you just weren't sure if you could do that. Then again, did you really have any other option? There were many reasons why magicians rarely left the circle, and part of that was because they would have no support or means of living if they did. You had no job or experience in anything other than hunting and investigating rogue fey, not to mention as far as the human world was concerned, you didn't exist. Magicians didn't exactly carry ID cards or social security numbers with them.

You looked down at your right palm, the pink scar where the Circle's Seal had been staring back at you. It still throbbed a little but the pain was minor and it reminded you that your chain to the Circle was severed now. You were free to do whatever you wanted.

So why was your mind already falling back to your investigation into Marik? Heh, you supposed a magic seal was easier break from than the only lifestyle you had known.

A gentle call of your name made you turn your head and you saw Yugi looking at you with a question in his eyes. Atem, who was resting his head on Yugi's shoulder, looked at you with a similar expression. It was such an innocent scene, you found yourself thinking, one of Yugi's wings slightly cupping Atem, their hands intertwined.

"Are you okay?" Yugi asked after a moment.

You managed to give him a smile, "I'm just thinking. Don't worry about me, you two need to enjoy the sunset while you can." Before either could waste more of this special moment worrying about you, you turned forward again and kept your eyes on the skyline, blocking any more conversation.

It really was a beautiful sunset.

Yugi did end up giving you a tour of their home. The back door led into an entry hall of sorts, with shoe and coat racks, another door that went into the shop Yugi ran, and a staircase leading up to the residential area above. Those stairs immediately opened up into a living room with a kitchenette off of it. There was a hallway off of the kitchen with a door on either side and another steep, narrow set of stairs to the third floor at the end. Apparently there were two bedrooms on the third floor, but they hadn't been used for more than storage since Yugi's grandfather, the original owner, passed.

"We can set up one of the rooms upstairs for you," Yugi offered, "We just have to move some stuff around and make sure that old mattress is still okay to sleep on."

You shuffled your feet, avoiding his earnest gaze, "You don't have to go to any trouble, the couch is fine." The words were barely out when you felt a hand on your shoulder and you turned to see Atem looking at you with reassurance.

"It's no trouble. I'll work on arranging everything for you while Yugi makes dinner."

"At least let me help you," you insisted as he headed for the third-floor staircase.

As Yugi went to the kitchen to start on the promised meal, you set your backpack down by the couch for safekeeping and started to go after Atem.

"I hope you like burgers," Yugi called out as he pulled down a skillet from a shelf, "it'll be nice to have someone else who actually eats with me. I can never get used to how Atem doesn't need regular food." He chuckled and the tone of his last sentence said he had said it to himself more than anything.

When he turned to get something else for dinner, he was surprised to see you stating there. Wait, when had you stopped by the kitchen? Weren't you heading down the hall just a second ago?

Yugi looked just as confused as you felt. "Weren't you going to go help Atem? I'm fine cooking by myself," he smiled to assure you he didn't need any help, but it faltered when he saw your lost expression.

"I... I was going to help him. I thought I was walking towards the stairs then..."

Yugi's face went a bit pale, "Oh no."

"What?"

He swallowed a lump in his throat, then started scratching the back of his head as he avoided your gaze. "Umm, you know how I used my seduction magic on you to help with your pain earlier? Well, I think you're experiencing some...uh...side effects."

With a groan, you smacked your palm to your head. "Of course. I'm acting on a subconscious need to be close to you. Hell, I'm surprised I didn't try to hold your hand or something."

"I think it's only a minor need," Yugi insisted looking very abashed as his eyes darted up to you with the look of a sad puppy. "I'm sorry. I swear I wasn't trying to actually seduce you or anything. I didn't think you'd have any side effects..."

Your heart clenched at the sight of his upset sate and you weren't sure if it was the seduction magic or something else that made you want to put your arms around him. You waved your hand in an effort to deny the want as well as alleviate Yugi's guilt. "It's fine, Yugi, I know you didn't do it on purpose, you were just trying to help me. It should wear off soon, right? Until then, just don't blame me if I end up standing too close or hugging you or something."

He gave a soft smiled at the words, big violet eyes saying a silent 'thank you'. You had to get out of there -like now- before you did something stupid.

You turned on your heel, "I'm going to help Atem now. Thank you for making dinner, Yugi."

After having spent all of his recent days with you in mortal peril, Atem found this hour with you to be rather...special. It didn't take long to set up the room for your indefinite stay but he enjoyed the simple work and casual talk you two shared. Atem insisted on leaving the doors and windows open to air out the dust and got you clean pillows and linens to sleep with. The storage boxes had been piled into the closet and third bedroom, so as to not make you feel cluttered. You two had just gotten your bed made when Yugi called up saying dinner was done.

Atem also had to admit that it felt nice having someone else there for mealtimes. Not that he didn't enjoy the simple domestic alone time with Yugi before, but it simply felt...right to have you there, conversing with them and getting to know each other. Though he already knew he liked you immensely, it was still quite a welcomed change to talk about one another without the fear of execution hanging over his head.

After food (and you insisting on washing the dishes for them) Atem could tell that Yugi was on the verge of falling asleep right there and wondered if he should insist on everyone going to bed given the trials of the day.

"Neither of us got much sleep last night and my endurance potions can only go so far," you told him in a low tone, peeking over the kitchen island to look at Yugi as his lids drifted open and closed at a tired pace.

When you let out a long yawn Atem put his hand on your shoulder, "You need some rest as well. Teleporting us all that way, not to mention the physical exertion of having your seal removed can't have been easy on you."

"I'm fi-fine-" another yawn that Atem couldn't help but chuckle at. He might have compared you to a tired kitten if he didn't think the words would earn him a death glare. Or worse.

"Go on to bed, my friend. I'll finish cleaning up and take care of Yugi."

"I'm not a kid, you know," Yugi called from the dining table, but even the scolding sounded half-hearted.

Atem did not miss the way you smiled at the incubus' tired claim, the gesture softening your features for a precious moment.

"Alright, you win," you conceded as you handed him the dishtowel, even giving him a pat on the shoulder as you passed. "Goodnight you two."

"Goodnight! If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask, okay?" Yugi called after you, trying to hold in a yawn of his own.

After finishing the cleanup, Atem took Yugi's hands in his own and gently pulled him to their bedroom. The vampire thought they would have a nice, peaceful remainder to their night, but, as he took off his jewelry at the vanity, a low toned claim from Yugi made his whole body tense.

"You're not going to stop hunting Marik, are you?"

Atem looked at the incubus sitting on the bed, his tail and wings drooping, eyes fixed on the ground and body held so tightly he looked as if he was trying to shield himself from hurt. In all the time he had known Yugi, Atem was sure this moment was the most he had ever looked fragile.

"Yugi..."

"She told me. The message you asked her to give me when you thought you were going to die? She gave it to me. You said you were sorry for letting your need for revenge put you in that much danger. But you aren't going to stop, even now, are you?"

Atem let out a resigned sigh as he sat down on the bed beside Yugi. He took the younger man's hand in his own, giving a gentle squeeze. "I can't, Yugi. He's here in Domino and I can't let him escape, not this time."

"But why?!" Yugi turned his hurt-filled, tired eyes on him, "you don't have to go after him, the magicians are hunting him too, let them handle it. Atem-" Yugi's voice cracked and Atem felt a swell of self-loathing in his chest for bringing his love to tears. "What if next time it isn't the Circle who try to kill you?" he whispered, "I c-can't lose you, Atem."

He pulled Yugi into a tight embrace, wishing he could chase the tears away with sheer will power. He ran his fingers through Yugi's hair as he said, "You won't lose me. You especially won't now that we aren't alone." When Yugi pulled back and gave him a questioning look, Atem elaborated, "I know she's free to do whatever she wants now that she's free of the circle, but something tells me that she will continue her hunt for Marik as well. If she is, we can do it together. We can stop his killing and tormenting together."

After staring back at him for a moment, Yugi let out a defeated sigh and leaned against his chest. "I know I can't stop you. Just promise me you'll be careful and you'll let me help too."

"I promise, Aibou," to lighten the mood he kissed Yugi's temple and said, "I dare say I can't do anything without your help anymore."

"Got that right," Yugi replied but Atem heard the smile in his tone.

They stayed like that for a few long, much needed minutes, simply holding each other. Atem thought Yugi might have fallen asleep, until he shifted and looked towards the door with a questioning gaze. A second later Atem noticed it too, just as Yugi got up and walked to the door. He opened it, revealing you, curled up and still fast asleep at the threshold to their bedroom.

"Oh no," Yugi sighed, kneeling down by you as he whispered, "I was worried about this. She's still experiencing the side effects of my magic and must have slept walked here to get close to me."

Atem joined your side as Yugi brushed the back of his hand along your cheek. Your breaths were coming slow and even, looking perfectly content despite the hard floor beneath you. The sight was actually quite cute.

"Should I carry her back to her room?" Atem whispered as well, not wanting to disturb you.

Yugi shrugged, "She'll probably just sleepwalk to our door again."

"Well, we can't just leave her here on the ground."

The incubus looked to the vampire with an almost timid suggestion in his eyes, "There's always a third option..."

You weren't sure if an entire floor and a bedroom door were enough to block out Atem and Yugi's demonic auras, but you weren't taking the chance. You trusted both of them, but your sleeping mind might still call out danger when sensing them so close by and you couldn't take another restless night of sleep. You only had one sleeping draft left in your stock but it was well worth it to knock yourself out for the night.

Your dreams were pleasant that night. Soft hands holding yours, warmth wrapping around your body like a cozy blanket; the comfort of companionship. Comfort you didn't know how to handle in the real world, but here in dreams, you let it wash over you like a cleansing tide. Was this what home felt like?

The world came creeping back in at a snail's pace and this time you didn't quite dread the mornings like you usually did. You don't think you had ever remembered having such a good night's sleep.

Of course, your blissful moment started to fade when you became more and more aware of the fact that someone was sleeping beside you.

Your eyes snapped open and you sucked in a shocked breath when you saw Yugi's peaceful sleeping face next to yours. He was a respectful distance from you, at least considering what little room there was for distance on the bed. Still, your face felt like it was on fire when you realized you had one hand placed on his chest and the other set firmly on his hip. Not just that. Atem was asleep in the bed too, laying with his chest to Yugi's back, tucked between the incubus' wings and his hand gently resting over yours on Yugi's hip.

Apparently, the sleeping draft had not knocked out your subconscious need to be tucked in Yugi's arms. After a string of mental curses and colorful exclamations, you decided it was best to try slipping out before either of them woke.

At a painfully slow pace, you started moving your hand out from under Atem's, freezing when he or Yugi seemed on the verge of stirring and waiting a bit before moving again. Finally, your hand was free and you started shimming backward to slide out from under the warm, inviting blankets and off of the soft bed.

When you were completely 'free' and started tiptoeing towards the door you heard Yugi make a pouty grumbling noise. You peeked behind you to see him still asleep as he threw his arm over the spot you had been and bury his face into the sheets with another grumble; Atem silently scooting closer to him a second later.

Once you had closed their door behind you and you were safe in the hallway, you let out a sigh. You didn't know if they were awake when you came to them or not, but you were determined not to have that particular awkward conversation. You weren't even sure what time it was because of the thick curtains over every window, but you did see some sunlight around the edges.

With another sigh, you decided that a shower was in order and made your way to the bathroom across the hall. Yugi had hung a spare towel out for you the night before, he and Atem sure were thoughtful hosts. The hot water felt refreshing and you relaxed under the feel of it. You hadn't had your own body wash or shampoo to bring so you had to hope the boys wouldn't mind you using some of theirs. The body wash had a pleasant, light scent to it that reminded you of herbs or woods, while the shampoo had a fresh clean smell.

The scent made you remember what it had felt like to have both of them hold you in their arms as you tried to keep from fainting the day before. You hadn't noticed the scent at the time, focusing more on the pulsating pain from your hand, but it must have stuck into the back of your mind. You lifted your hand, once again examining the scar of your seal. In some ways, you still couldn't believe that the connection had been severed. For years it bound you to the Circle, claimed you as one of their own, and ensured your place in the world. The mere sight of it could strike fear and panic into the hearts of most fey. So much of your life revolves around the symbol, why then, did it feel so natural and easy to be rid of it?

You were jolted out of your thoughts when a knock and a gentle call of your name came from the door. "Please take as much time as you'd like, I simply wanted to ask if you were alright with having pancakes for breakfast?" Atem asked, sounding a bit sheepish for some reason. "Yugi would also like to know if you're alright with chocolate chips in them."

"Y-yes, that fine, I'll be out in a bit," you called back.

When you were sure he wasn't going to say anything else, you let out a small sigh. You didn't want to dwell on the past too much, but, at the same time, you were worried that adjusting to this new life would be difficult, no matter how natural it seemed right now.

After drying off and putting on fresh clothes for the day, you stepped into the kitchen to see if Yugi needed any help with breakfast. Atem was sitting at the kitchen island, reading a newspaper while drinking something from a coffee cup. A quick glance at the red liquid confirmed that it was blood, likely from a pig or cow courtesy of a butcher.

Yugi, who was standing at the stove humming to himself, greeted you with a smile and cheerful, "Good morning! We weren't sure what you wanted to drink, but there's juice and milk in the fridge, and I think there's some coffee up in the cabinet somewhere if you'd rather have that."

"Juice is fine," you assured, not wanting him to go to any trouble. "Do you need any help with food?"

"Nope, I got it! You can sit down and relax." He gave you a closed-eyed smile before going to the fridge for something, his tail swishing happily behind him.

When you took the stool beside Atem he tossed his newspaper away and shifted in his seat, turning to face you more. He seemed to want to talk about something, but scratched the back of his neck and didn't quite meet your eyes as he said, "Um, about this morning-"

"I'm sorry, I didn't even realize I came into your room in my sleep until I woke up this morning," you blurted out, not wanting either of them to get the wrong idea.

"No, no, it's alright. We know you weren't in control, we just..." he cleared his throat and Yugi jumped in to save his red-faced vampire, though he seemed only a notch-less bashful.

"We didn't want to leave you on the floor all night, that's why he put you in the bed. I hope you...uh...didn't think we had any bad intentions or...uh...anything."

"Of course not," you assured, desperately wishing this conversation was over. "It was all just a big, weird, situation, it's fine." You took a drink of the juice Yugi had given you, hoping that was the end of that. Just in case, when you swallowed the drink- and the lump in your throat, you moved the conversation along to another topic entirely. "There's something else I wanted to tell you two. I want you to know that I'm still going to investigate the Marik case."

You saw the boys exchange a look. You couldn't quite discern it, but you knew it was quite meaningful, especially with how tense Yugi seemed to be all of the sudden.

"I am as well," Atem said as he broke eye contact with Yugi and looked back at you. "In fact, I was hoping you would be willing to find him together."

That really shouldn't have come as a shock, but it still took you a moment to reply. "Alright, if that's what you want." For about the dozenth time since you'd met Atem, you found yourself wondering why he was so hell-bent on finding Marik. But, like all the other dozen times, you figured it was too prying to ask.

"Won't investigating the case draw the attention of the Circle?" Yugi asked with caution, "You said they shouldn't be able to find you now, but you might run into them if both you and them are tracking Marik down."

"Not necessarily." You allowed yourself a bit of a smug smile as you said, "Part of the reason I'm usually put on the most wanted vampire cases is because I've built connections and channels other magicians haven't."

Atem met your smile with his own, thought a question again playing in his eyes as he said, "It's obvious that you're remarkably experienced in hunting vampires, but you're so young..."

You shrugged, the smugness fading a bit, "I've been doing this for a long time. The Circle starts their training young. Really young."

"Don't tell me they go around recruiting children," Yugi said, and you didn't miss the undertones of disgust in his words.

"Recruiting isn't really the right word," you sighed. "I, like most of the magicians, was born into service under the circle. My mother was a magician and any maician working for the Circle pretty much hands their child over to the council the moment they're born. We grow up in the Sanctuary with other kids our age and aren't taught anything about the outside world that doesn't involve hunting fey. Combat training and teachings of the fey world starts as soon as possible and eventually, we're given a choice." You looked down at your palm, remembering the pain of the brand that sealed your life to the Circle. "Part of the reason magician almost always stay with the Circle is because they make us choose. We can pledge our loyalty to the Circle and they give us the magician's seal, or, we refuse and they throw us out into a world we know nothing about with no money or family to support us."

Silence followed your words. At the time, when the 'choice' had been given to you, you thought it normal. There was no other frame of reality that you knew to tell you how manipulative and abusive such a life was. In fact, you had only come to that conclusion barely more than a year ago, and here you were in your twenties.

"How old are you when they give you this so-called 'choice'?" Atem asked, sounding like he was barely keeping anger under the surface. You knew it wasn't directed at you, but you still felt a wash of shame on behalf of your old masters.

"Fourteen."

Another thing that had seemed normal to you for years. Fourteen was a fine age to be forced into servitude and trained to kill, wasn't it? You had thought that, until years of seeing the real world and how it worked made you realize that such a way of thinking belonged in the dark ages. Ages where fourteen was considered an adult because the average person didn't live much past forty if that. This time last year you might have said 'that's normal, isn't it?' or tried to rationalize it away, but not now.

"That's just sick," Yugi muttered under his breath and you knew he was remembering how much you said the brand had hurt when they gave it to you. "Fourteen, and do they even wait long before they put up against an actual, dangerous fey?"

"No. Your first field mission is usually a month after pledging your loyalty." You regretted the words almost as soon as you said them, given the horrified look in Yugi's eyes, and Atem's deliberately stony expression. Maybe you should have added that they at least give you a mentor on those mission for a while, but you didn't figure it would help much. You didn't want them to pity you, so, trying for a bit of black humor that might move the conversation along you shrugged and said, "But at least being pitted against bloodthirsty fey at a young age was good for one thing. Like I said I have a few connections that might help us find Marik. I actually have one in mind."

Thankfully, Atem must have sensed that you didn't want to talk about that line of conversation anymore, because, after a moment where Atem closed his eyes and took in a deep breath (and Yugi forced himself to go back to cooking), he asked, "Who?"

"He's a ghoul that lives in the slums on the other side of the city. He tends to keep his ears low and picks up on other fey doing shading things. A cowardly little creep, but I've kept the Council off his back a few times, so he's willing to help me when I need it. Especially after a bit of...persuasion."

As Yugi set a stack of pancakes in front of you and took a seat on your other side, Atem asked, "Are you willing to wait until nightfall to visit him? That way I might come as well?"

"I prefer it, actually. He usually has his guard lowered at night since he's more vulnerable during the day. We can go together tonight."

"Great!" Yugi chimed in after swallowing a bite of fluffy pancakes, "That means I'll have the shop closed by then and I can come too." When you and Atem looked round at him, he gave a very sassy looking raise of his eyebrow. "What, you honestly think I'm going to let you two go after this psycho by yourselves again after what happened last time? No way!"

He took another bite of his food and with a chuckle you finally let yourself dig into the breakfast as well. Atem only smiled at Yugi's words. A while of comfortable silenced passed and you were just about done eating before Yugi brought up his own question.

"Since we aren't going until night, do you think you could help me in the shop today?"

"Of course," you answered finishing off the last of your food, "I'm staying here after all, I don't mind helping out."

"Awesome!" His bright smile was back in place again, "It will give us a chance to get to know each other, besides, I've got a few magical objects that you might be able to help me identify."

"You two better get to it then, I'll clean up here," Atem said as he took your plates.

As he did, something on his finger caught your attention. You hadn't noticed until now but...Atem was still wearing the enchanted ring you gave him. Even though its magic had run out long ago it was still there among his other adornment. You didn't have much time to dwell on the discovery though, because you were soon heading downstairs with Yugi to start your day.

You had not seen the actual shop last night, nor the front of the building, so you were quite intrigued when Yugi led you into the magical store. It was...cute. Cozy in a somehow adorable way. Shelves full of books on tarot reading, herbalism, Wicca, and numerous other things covered the entirety of the right wall. Display cases sporting handmade wands, athames, pagan statues, crystals, and stones sat on the opposing side. A counter with an old register, as well as small tables holding candles, incense, and other nick-nacks filled the center of the room.

Yugi told you that he mostly catered to white witches; humans who dabbled in fortune-telling, herbalism, and all manner of occult matters, but he had a few regulars who were actual creatures of the night. "Those are the customers that I let into the back room," he had said with a wink as he snapped his fingers and his incubus features disappeared from view, leaving him looking just as human as you.

The first thing you helped him with was the store's opening procedure. He led you outside carrying a wooden sandwich sign that looked rather old. It had a carving of three boxes with question marks on them and knives protruding from the sides of said boxes. The shop's name was scrawled above it in raised red letters: 'The Mystic Box'. Eager to help, you grabbed the display table of discounted items that Yugi said he always sat outside to draw attention and carried it out as he set up the sign.

Once out there, you instantly took notice to the neighboring shop- or rather, the people working there. I was a salon, and three women, two of them smoking, stood outside and seemed to be paying quite a bit of attention to Yugi.

"Morning, Yugi!" called the short blonde one, "You look as good as ever!"

"Go-good morning," he replied, barely giving the now giggling women a wave.

"Who's your friend?" another asked, eyeing you with genuine curiosity.

"An old friend. She's going to be living with us and helping out around the shop for a while," Yugi answered in a flash.

After setting up the table, you turned to see Yugi was still fiddling with the old hinges of the sign. He sighed and kneeled down to see what was snagged and you were about to help him out, but hesitated when you took notice of the slight change in the women's demeanors. They were biting their lips and giggling at each other, making odd hand gestures as they looked down at- Oh for god sake, they were drooling over Yugi's butt! By the furrow of his brow and the tenseness of his shoulders, Yugi knew it and wasn't at all comfortable with the lewd staring.

You let out an annoyed huffed and stepped between Yugi's turned back and the women, crossing your arms and giving them a very cold look. Admiring another's body was one thing, but these girls were no better than catcalling construction workers. Each of them gave you some version of a disappointed glare or impatient muttering, not appreciating you ruining their fun.

Yugi quickly fixed the sign and stood, saying a dismissive "See you later, ladies," as you two walked back inside the shop.

"Bye Yugi!" they called in unison, still acting like schoolgirls with their giggling.

Your arms were still crossed as Yugi shut the door behind him, flipped the sign in the window to 'open', and walked over to the cash register. "You didn't have to do that," he said, sounding half appreciative, half embarrassed. "They do that almost every morning, I'm used to it."

You shrugged, "Doesn't mean you should be used to it. Just because you're handsome doesn't give them the right to make you uncomfortable."

To your surprise, Yugi's eyes widened slightly, and the corner of his mouth twitched into a smile. Realizing what you had just called him, you felt your heart sink and you turned away before he could say anything about the compliment.

"S-so where are these magical items you wanted to show me?"

Time passed with relative ease. Yugi spent over an hour with you in the storage room, pulling out this antique or that to ask your advice on. Apparently his grandfather had done quite a bit of traveling in his youth and collected so many things for his shop, that Yugi had no hope of hearing the story behind each of them before his grandpa passed away, even given the long lifespan incubi had. In the end you were able to tell him that he had a Buddhist statue that was made to seal away an evil spirit and had yet to be filled (quite a valuable find for the right shaman), a set a robes imbued with the remnants of an old protection enchantment, a dagger that had some sort of bloodletting curse attached to it (you assured a very nervous looking Yugi you could break the curse with ease), and a pile of pretty, but none-magical items.

Customers came and went. You found most of them quite nice and almost all of them called Yugi by name, chatting as they browsed or mentioned some past conversation as they paid. Just about everyone asked who you were and you two gave the same explanation Yugi had to the salon women, though you actually ended up speaking to a few of the customers. It was a nice, quiet day. You can't remember ever having one like it, which made you happy and anxious at the same time somehow.

It was a little past six now and business was slow, a customer not having come in for almost an hour. Since you had already helped restock some candles and incense, there wasn't much else to do. So, standing at the counter with Yugi chatting, you found yourself asking the question that had been burning in your mind since you met him.

"If you don't mind me asking, how did you and Atem meet anyways?"

Yugi gave a small hum, seeming to recall the memory. "It was quite a few years ago, he actually saved my life." When you gave him an interested look he continued. "See, a troll had...uh...taken a liking to me. He planned to use some kind of dark magic to make me loyal to him, but Atem came just in time. There had been rumors circulating Domino for a while that there was some mysterious guy who prowled the streets at night and saved people from getting mugged or attacked, but I didn't believe it until then. After he saved me I just kind of..I don't know, he seemed so lonely, I went out of my way to get to know him and eventually, he let me in."

There had been a number of mixed emotions in Yugi's eyes as he told the story, some of which you couldn't really identify, but you knew it had been a special time in Yugi's life. Suddenly, the eyes that had been staring off as he recalled the memory darted to yours.

"I could show you, if you want," he suggested, sounding almost unsure. When your attentive look turned questioning he simply shrugged. "When I was- you know, going through your memories, I saw how you and Atem met, I guess I thought that it was only fair that I show you how we met."

You considered it for a moment. You had never had one of his kind project thoughts or images into your head, but, if Yugi's little stunt with Keith yesterday proved anything, it was that Yugi knew that aspect of his powers well. You actually smiled a bit, not just at the memory of what he had done to Keith, but at something else. Yugi so readily suggesting to share something that intimate with you. It felt nice.

"Alright, if you don't mind sharing."

Yugi nodded his head with a small smile of his own, before taking the only step of space between you and placing his fingers on your temples. He closed his eyes and whispered for you to do the same. It was only a moment after you did, that you felt his magic take hold. Your mind's eye filled with images, but not just that, they surrounded you, engulfed you like they were your own memories playing back in real-time.

The scene of a dark room, a large shed or garage possibly, came into view, and you heard heavy, pained panting along with someone rummaging through the contents of a box or crate. The one responsible for the breathing was Yugi and seeing as how these were his memories, the panting almost felt like your own. He was struggling against something and you realized that he had binding chains around his wrists. His eyes scanned the room and landed on the creature making the impatient noises.

It was a troll alright, his size, along with the rank smell revealed that instantly. He was digging through a chest and after a moment seemed to find what he was looking for. He pulled out a glass bottle with blue, glowing contents and the troll smiled a crooked, sickening smile.

"Here we are. One drink 'a this and you'll be my toy forever."

"Let me go!" Yugi shouted back, trying to sound confident, "No matter what you force me to drink it'll wear off and when it does-"

"You'll what, tiny?" the troll taunted as he came more fully into view. Damn he was ugly, and you wanted to punch that sick smirk off his face and keep punching at the way he leered down at Yugi. "I've met sex demons that can use their magic to do some harm, but what're you gonna do? You're nothing but a scrawny, weak, little-"

He didn't finish the string of insults, because his head jerked to the right as a very, very faint sound could be heard, like the breaking of glass. The troll cursed under his breath and went to investigate the noise. Only a second later did he come back- as he was tossed to the other side of the room like a ragdoll! Yugi flinched as the troll crashed into a wooden table and the bottle of potion went flying somewhere.

The next moment a third party came into view: Atem, sparing nothing more than a glance at the troll before he walked over to Yugi. The incubus flinched at his approach and Atem's posture changed from a taut kind of concentration, to something more calming as he held up his hands.

"It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you," the vampire said in a soothing tone.

Before he could try approaching Yugi again, the troll was on his feet and closing in fast. Atem was ready. He turned on his heel, ducked, and drove his fist into the attacker's belly; landing his own blow while avoiding the right hook of the troll. He was lucky that he had vampire strength, any lesser creature would have broken their hands against the hard muscles. Again the troll was sent flying back, but he kept upright and recovered from the blow quickly, letting out a growl at the vampire.

"Back off, he's mine!"

"He isn't property," Atem yelled back and charged at the beast.

The troll tried for another punch but the vampire dodged, grabbing the arm that swung at him and bringing it down on his knee with a sick crack. The kidnapper roared in pain but Atem did not waste any time in landing a sharp blow at his throat. Yugi closed his eyes in that moment, so you couldn't see what happened next, but there was a momentary choking sound, followed by another crack, then silence.

A moment later footsteps were heard, Yugi reopened his eyes and looked up at Atem who was standing over him.

"Are you alright, little one?" he asked in a kind voice.

Even though he, like all vampires, did not age, you couldn't help but this that this was a different version of Atem in someway. He wore all leather, including some buckled boots and a collar around his neck. The only thing that seemed similar to the style of the Atem you knew, was the makeup around his eyes.

"Y-yes I'm okay," Yugi replied, still shaken, "he didn't hurt me too bad." His eyes flickered to the motionless body, "Is he...?"

"Not dead, but don't worry, even a troll can't recover from that very easily. I don't think he'll be able to bother you or anyone again. Come, let's get those chains off of you."

Atem kneeled, keeping his eyes on Yugi's face, as if searching for any sign of discomfort as he reached out and broke the chains clean off with his bare hands. You felt the odd tingle in Yugi's chest at the display of power, and the gentle way Atem took Yugi's hands and pulled him to his feet.

It was only when Atem seemed to notice, that you yourself realized that Yugi was shirtless. Atem looked away and immediately took off his leather jacket, only to put it around Yugi's shoulders.

"Let me walk you home," the vampire suggested.

The scene faded for a moment, turning to haze before coming back into focus and revealing a scene of the two men walking down a dark street. Yugi kept stealing glances at the vampire beside him and cleared his throat before introducing himself.

"I'm Yugi, by the way. Can I have the name of the man who saved me?"

"Atem," he replied, softly, though he still kept his gaze on the sidewalk ahead of them.

Again Yugi cleared his throat, "You're the vigilante everyone's been talking about, aren't you?"

"People talk about me?" Atem asked, finally looking over at the incubus.

"Yup, you've been making an impression on everyone around here, especially in the fey community. My grandpa kept thinking you were a fey, but who knew you'd be a vampire."

"Did you assume one of my kind would never go out of their way to help someone?"

Yugi's face went hot and he stopped in his tracks as he stammered a reply, "N-no! I didn't assume that! It's just that I- I've never met a vampire before so-"

A chuckle cut Yugi off and when he looked up at Atem, he was smirking at him. "It's alright, little one, I was only joking."

After a moment where Yugi breathed a sigh of relief, the two started walking again.

"So how long have you been doing this whole vigilante thing?"

"Since I arrived in Domino last winter. There's no need to call me a vigilante, however. I am merely doing what I think is right."

Yugi seemed like he wanted to say that that was almost the definition of the word, but eventually let it slide. "Well still, it's nice to know someone's out there looking out for people. Just don't be surprised if everyone starts calling you Batman," he giggled at his own comment.

Atem actually scoffed at the words, "'Batman'? Honestly, I have no idea where the rumor that vampires turn into bats came from, but I assure you it isn't true."

"Huh? No, Batman as in the character from..." When Atem only turned a questioning look on Yugi the young man just shook his head, amused and said, "Never mind." This vampire apparently wasn't a comic book fan.

The two finally came to a stop in front of the shop and home, causing them to face each other in goodbye. Yugi started to take the jacket off and hand it back to Atem, but the vampire simply raised his hand.

"Keep it. It suits you."

Again, warmth crept onto Yugi's face, "Thank you again for saving me. I'm not sure what I would have done if you hadn't..."

Atem closed his eyes and gave a slight bow of his head to show he accepted the thanks. "Goodnight, Yugi."

The moment he turned to leave Yugi called out to him and the vampire looked over his shoulder with a raised brow. "C-Could I see you again? It's just that...you seem kind of...I don't know, lonely? If-if you want a friend..."

A smile that seemed soft despite himself crossed Atem's lips, but Yugi and yourself only got to see it for a moment before he turned away and started walking. "I'm a dangerous creature, Yugi. Best keep your distance for your own safety."

You and Yugi watched the man disappear into the darkness and Yugi still remained standing there for a few minutes, his heart pounding and cheeks red. The only thing that brought the incubus out of his stupor was a frantic call of his name. Yugi looked up and you saw an older incubus soaring through the sky. The old man landed just a foot from Yugi and immediately pulled him into a hug.

"I've been looking all over for you!" the old incubus cried, "Where were you- what happened?"

"I'm okay, grandpa," Yugi assured, returning the hug, "it got bad there for a minute, but someone came to my rescue..."

The scene faded again, as if being taken over by smoke and slowly the real world came back into focus.

You opened your eyes and a moment later Yugi opened his own. He was still very close to you and continued to hold his fingers to your temples as he said, "I forgot how much leather he wore back then," and chuckled at the thought.

You found your own laugh breaking through, as well as a smile. "So, you didn't heed 'Batman's' warning and went looking for him anyway?"

Yugi finally let his hands fall to his side, but he stayed close and leaned against the counter with a sheepish expression. "Well, sort of. A couple weeks later a friend of mine came to me and said someone from her coven had gone missing and wanted my help with a tracking spell. When we tracked her we went looking for her on our own, thankfully when we got there, someone was already there to help her." He gave you a pointed look that said 'guess who'. "He was pretty surprised to see me again, and was still pretty insistent that I stay away but..." he shrugged, "things just kinda developed from there, I guess."

You could see it now, the gothic vigilante vampire telling his sweet gentle love interest to stay away from a monster like him, only to be swept up in the passion that ensued. It was all quite romantic, really.

"Glad to see you melted his heart, Yugi," you said still with a smile. "He's obviously a lot happier with you instead of being a stereotypical creature of the night."

Yugi chuckled along with you at the comment, "Oh what you saw was just half of it, did I mention that he was living in an actual crypt when we first met? As in, 1800s, gothic style crypt."

He started describing said sleeping arrangements as he walked to the front of the store to start closing up for the night, but when there was even a slight pause in his description of headstones and iron gates, a deep voice interrupted.

"I hope he isn't telling you all my secrets."

When you two turned you saw Atem leaning against the back doorway with a smirk.

"No, just the slightly embarrassing ones," you admitted.

He closed his eyes and you couldn't tell if actually felt embarrassed or not. "I see, well, once you two are done, I have food waiting for you upstairs."

"And after that, we track down her informant," Yugi half asked, half stated as he looked between the two of you.

You replied with a mischievous smile, "Yup, and don't worry, I have a plan in mind to make sure he talks."

#atem x reader #yugi x reader #yami x reader #atem x reader x yugi #yugi x reader x yami #poly relationship #poly reader insert #series: spells of defiance

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inevitably-johnlocked · 5 years

Note

Do you know of any fics where John has body dysmorphia or an eating disorder? Also, I’ve read almost every fic in your lists... what is your recommendation for a punch in the gut pining fic from either side? Thank you ever so, lovely

Hi Nonny!

Ah, I actually don’t read eating disorder fics because for personal reasons, but I have done a list SIMILAR to John dysmorphia here before: Insecure / Awkward John or Sherlock (Jan 2019). Alexx has a John is Insecure list you can check out there.

For Pining, I have a RIDICULOUSLY HUGE Pining Sherlock [MOBILE FRIENDLY VERSION] list at that link there and a Mutual Pining list too. And Pining John… well, I’ve been putting together a list for years because someone asked me for it ages ago, LOL. Sorry it’s not super long like my others (most of them are in the Mutual pining list, LOL)! I suppose I can use this opportunity to post up what I have sorted so far, LOL

PINING JOHN

See also:

Mutual Pining

Pining Sherlock [MOBILE FRIENDLY VERSION]

Where You Are by Mazarin221b (E, 2,478 w., 1 Ch. || Beach Sex, First Time, Fluff, Smut, Holidays, Pining) – He can admit he’s secretly a little glad Sherlock didn’t come with him. He needs a break. Sherlock is a handful at the best of times, and the near-constant apologizing, fixing, dealing-with, and following up on is exhausting. The near-constant unrequited attraction is a bit exhausting, too, to be honest, and John could really use a tiny bit of rest from the relentless hammering on his brain and heart.

Until the End of the World by SarahCat1717 (G, 3,049 w., 1 Ch.|| Angst, First Kiss, Pining Sherlock, Oblivious John, Drunkenness) – Taking place in Season 3, John listens to an old favourite song and sorts through his memories and feelings about Sherlock and Mary.

Out of Time by westernredcedar (T, 3,163 w., 1 Ch. || Wedding, Angst, Pining John, Sad Ending) – Somerset is a lovely place for a wedding, but what John hadn’t accounted for was the getting everyone there.

Between Asleep and Awake by katydidit (K, 4,309 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Sick Fic, Post-TRF / Reunion) – John is sick. Incredibly, extremely, dangerously sick. Plagued by a high fever, he begins to hallucinate, start seeing things that aren’t really there. Because they can’t be there. Can they?

Overture by Kate_Lear (M, 4,435 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss / Time, Friends to Lovers, Angry John, Introspection, Dev. Rel., Embarassed / Insecure Sherlock, Morning After, Bed Sharing, Cuddles / Limpet Sherlock) – A short snippet on how John and Sherlock might have got together.

You Can’t Always Get What You Want by hubblegleeflower (E, 4,804 w., 1 Ch. || Pining, Sexual Tension, UST / RST, First Time) – John wants. He always has, but now that he’s living with Sherlock again, it’s all he can do to hold it back. And Sherlock isn’t helping…

See Recipe for Details by pandoras_chaos (E, 4,981 w., 1 Ch. || Oral / Anal Sex, Food, PWP, Fingerfucking) – John knows Sherlock’s mouth will never water over the sweet smells of baking chocolate biscuits or a lovely roast chicken, but he’s watched Sherlock nick mince pies out of Mrs. Hudson’s fridge often enough to deduce that the man does have taste, albeit confusing and obscure. So John makes a list: Things Sherlock Likes

Strings by EstherShapiro (E, 5,267 w., 1 Ch. || Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Massage, Friends to Lovers, Fingering, Anal, PWP) – Sherlock wakes his doctor up. Was this weird? John was sitting on his bed, late at night, rubbing his hands over another man’s body? That was supposed to be weird, right? Then again, this wasn’t just some man, it was Sherlock. They were so used to each other that John didn’t even think to question it. It wasn’t weird.

EMERGENCY CONTACT: John Watson, RELATIONSHIP: Saint by blueink3 (M, 6,229 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt Sherlock, 5+1, Hurt / Comfort, Caring John, Scars) – The first time Sherlock Holmes realizes he needs an emergency contact is the first time he mentally appoints John Watson with the job. John, of course, does not know this and neither does the local hospital. Part 2 of The Emergency Contact Series

I can’t pretend by Salambo06 (E, 7,692 w., 1 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Victor Trevor, Jealous John, Miscommunications, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, First Kiss/Time, Anal, BJs) – They had arrived more than a hour ago, and the moment they had walked inside the hotel reception, John had understood why Sherlock hadn’t wanted to come. Two men, posh suits and expensive watches on their wrists, had come to greet them with sharp remarks and badly hidden mockery, and John had seen red. Sherlock hadn’t said anything, mostly ignoring the two men entirely, and without thinking twice about it, John had slid an arm around Sherlock’s waist and introduced himself as his husband.

Sometimes When We Touch by kedgeree (M, 7,755 w., 6 Ch. || Post-TRF, First Kiss/Time, Inappropriate Giggling, Romance, Friends to Lovers, Virgin Sherlock, John Whump, Touching) – John might be touching Sherlock a little more often than is strictly necessary. Sherlock probably hasn’t even noticed. Right…?

Every Night I Look for You by destinationtoast (E, 8,377 w., 1 Ch. || POV John, Post-TRF, Angst, Mystery, Unsafe Sex, BAMF John) – Every night, John looks for familiar hints of Sherlock in the men he meets in bars, and he does with them all the things he wishes he’d done before. Eventually, he stumbles into a situation that Sherlock would know how to handle, and John must decide whether he can handle it without him.

Evening Ride by LapisLazuli (E, 8,632 w., 1 Ch. || Public Sex, Alternate First Meeting, Humiliation Kink, Groping, Frottage, Consent Issues, Come Play) – John has a series of unexpected meetings with a stranger on the Tube.

Ravish Me by amalnahurriyeh (E, 10,025 w., 1 Ch. || UST / RST, Makeup / Lipstick, Sympathetic Sally, Experiments, Pining John, First Kiss, Face Fucking / BJ’s, Cuddling) – Sherlock is experimenting with patterns of wear on lipstick in daily encounters. John is going to go insane.

Down with this Ship by FrostedFlame (PinkOrchid) (M, 10,862 w., 10 Ch. || For a Case, Gay Bar, Pining, Coming Out, Slow Burn) – Sherlock drags John undercover to a gay bar - for a case, of course - looking forward to seeing John flustered by their surroundings (since you know, he’s NOT GAY). John decides that he has hidden both his orientation and his feelings for his daft flatmate for far too long. He is done hiding, time to be honest with his bloody best friend in the world. He just hopes it won’t change anything between them. And then it does.

Johnlock Ficlet Collection by Irrevocably_Sherlocked (E, 11,505+ w., 16/? Ch. [WiP] | Random Ficlets, Pining, Angst, Fluff & Smut, Parentlock, AU’s, First Kiss, Character POV’s) - Just a collection of Johnlock ficlets, originally posted on my Tumblr page.

Say For Me, Love by MirabileLectu (T, 13,147 w., 1 Ch. || UST, First Kiss, Drama, Pining John, Victor Trevor) – If you had asked John this morning what the result of his quiet afternoon at home would be, discovering a truth about Sherlock’s past startling enough to shift the foundations of their friendship would not have been his first guess. So naturally, that was what was bound to happen.

A Hundred Thousand Ways to Say the Name John by Jberry (E, 16,825 w., 1 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Fake Marriage, POV John, Pining John, Cruise Ship, Angst & Fluff, Case Fit) – John Watson and Sherlock Holmes must solve a case on a cruise ship. To get close to the crew and passengers, they must get married for the case on the Baetica. However, their relationship hits rocky seas both due to the case and internal conflicts. Part 1 of Baetica

Love or What You Will by miss_frankenstein (T, 31,987 w., 11 Ch. || College/Uni AU || Professor John, Ph.D Student Sherlock, Pining John, Poetry, Falling in Love / Slow Burn, Light Angst, Happy Ending) – John is an English professor who specializes in War and Post-War Literature and Sherlock is the brilliant yet impossible Ph.D. student assigned to be his TA because no one in the Chemistry Department is willing to put up with him. And - somewhere between Waugh and Plath, e-mails and takeaway, novels and villanelles - they fall in love.

Chaperones by MissDavis (T, 34,114 w., 7 Ch. || 11 Years Post-S4, Fake Relationship, Parentlock, Disney World, Bed / Room Sharing, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, First Kiss, Obsessive Sherlock, Insecure John) – Right. Of course. Everyone assumed they were a couple and no one would question it. John put his elbows up on the table so he could rest his head in his hands. “You want to pretend to be a couple so we can chaperone a trip to Disney World with Rosie’s class and you won’t have to share a room with a stranger?” “Exactly.” Sherlock beamed at him. “Don’t worry about the cost. The Birmingham case last month paid more than enough to cover expenses for all three of us.”

The Wrong Wagon by DancingGrimm (E, 35,663 w., 20 Ch. || Alternating POV, Molly/John [Molly pines for John], Public Sex, Casual Sex, Obliviousness, BAMF!John, Awkwardness, Angst & Humour, First Time, Virgin Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock) – Molly sees John in a new light and realises that she may have hitched her horse to the wrong wagon…or something like that. John pines for Sherlock and worries what he will think if he ever finds out. And Sherlock doesn’t know what Molly’s up to…but he knows he doesn’t like it.

The Boy Who Drank Stars by kinklock (E, 36,157 w., 4 Ch. || Howl’s Moving Castle AU || Witches and Wizards, Slow Burn, Magic, Jealous John, Happy Ending, Bed Sharing) – “I’m looking for a castle,” John informed the scarecrow. “A moving one.”Except that, as it turned out, it was not a moving one at all.

Guidelines by WithLoweredVoices (M, 43,018 w., 15 Ch. || Winglock || Angels, Fantasy, Angst, BAMF! John, War, Jealous Sherlock, Possessive Sherlock, Jealous John, Falling in Various Ways, Needy Sherlock, Wings) – The Good Soldier, one of the oldest and strongest of the fallen, is offered a bargain: to live as John Watson and to Guide a fledgling archangel so that he will stay on the path of good. Of course, Sherlock Holmes has different ideas about his destiny. Fantasy AU. Warnings for violence, occasional gore, and a whole load of hurt and angst.

The Soul Remembers by i_ship_an_armada (E, 43,636 w., 10 Ch. || Oblivion AU || Post-Apocalypse, Movie Fusion, Science Fiction, Action/Adventure, Angst, Dreams, Bittersweet Ending) – John Watson is the lone security repairman stationed on a desolate, nearly-ruined future Earth. His dreams are plagued by a tall, dark-haired man, and when his dreams meet reality, he will be forced to question everything he believes is the truth about his life.

The Bells of King’s College by SilentAuror (E, 64,019 w., 5 Ch. || Post-S4, Missed Opportunities, Angst with Happy Ending, Fake Relationship, Case Fic, John POV, Jealous John, John in Denial, Travelling / Holidays, Virgin Sherlock, Wedding Proposals) – It’s only been two weeks since Eurus Holmes disrupted their lives when Mycroft sends John and Sherlock to Cambridge to pose as an engaged couple at a wedding show in the hopes of solving six unsolved deaths…

Summit Fever by J_Baillier (M, 78,802 w., 18 Ch. || Mountain Climber AU || POV John, Angst, Tragedy, Suicidal Ideation, The Himalayas, Mountain Guide / Doctor John, Mount Climber Sherlock, Loneliness, Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Injured Sherlock / Sherlock Whump, Pining John) – After graduating from medical school, John Watson followed his heart to the Himalayas. Ten years later, he’s a haunted cynic working for his ex-lover’s trekking and mountaineering company. Will leading an expedition to Annapurna I—the most lethal of all the world’s highest mountains—shake John out of his reverie, and who is the mystery client added to the group at the last minute?

Secrets and Revelations by Hisstah (E, 83,535 w., 9 Ch. || Sentinel / Guides Omegaverse AU || Adventure, Violence, Anal / Oral, Omega!John / Alpha!Sherlock, Case Fic, Politics, Mild DubCon) – Dr John Watson has some major secrets that he’s kept from his flatmate, Alpha Sentinel Sherlock Holmes. Now the Sentinel Tower is after him. Can John stay out of their hands until he can reveal his secrets to Sherlock? Part 1 of Secrets and Revelations

A Case of Identity by jkay1980 (T, 91,009 w., 22 Ch. || Post-TRF, Fake Relationship, Case Fic) – John and Sherlock have succeeded in rebuilding their friendship after Sherlock’s fake suicide, but an unusual case puts their relationship to the test. They pretend to be engaged and attend a marriage counseling workshop. Under the pretext of the case, Sherlock turns out to be a master of seduction, and John finally learns he might like Sherlock more than he thought. Slowly, John discovers that he loves Sherlock not only in a friendly, brotherly way, but both men have to fight their own demons before they can think of taking their relationship to a new level…

The Burning Heart by May_Shepard (M, 119,150 w., 21 Ch. || Canon Divergence, Post-TRF, John’s Sexuality, S3 Rewrite, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV John Watson, John’s Gay) – When Sherlock dies, John Watson feels like his life is over too. He’s completely shut down, until Mark Morstan, a new nurse at John’s medical clinic, catches his attention, and helps him uncover the long buried truth of his attraction to men. Although he’s certain he’ll never get over Sherlock, John plans to move on, and build a new life with Mark, unaware that Sherlock is not quite as dead as he appears, and that Mark is hiding secrets of his own.

Gimme Shelter by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (E, 159,368 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || 70′s Surfer AU || Period Typical Homophobia, Hawaii, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Professional Surfers, Gay John / Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, John was a Sailor, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining) – All John Watson wants is the feeling of a freshly waxed surfboard under his feet and the hot California sun baking down onto his back. To finally go pro in the newly formed world of professional surfing and leave the dark memories of his past behind him as he rips across the face of a towering blue barrel. To lounge beside the beach bonfire every evening with an ice cold beer tucked into the cool sand beside him and listen to Pink Floyd and the Doors while the saltwater dries in his sun bleached hair. That’s all he wants, that is, until the hot young phenom taking Oahu and the Hawaiian shores by storm steps up next to him in the sand in the second round of the 1976 International Surf Competition. (PUBLISHED AS ‘The Sea Ain’t Mine Alone’)

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #pining john #angst fics #pining idiots #Anonymous #fic rec sunday

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noirornothing · 5 years

Text

An Instrumental Drive

Part Three - 2329 Words

Part One, Two, Finale

Confessions are made, deals are struck, and that one officer two desks away is dying to know why C.C. Tinsley makes the most peculiar calls at work. Really, it was becoming a daily occurrence.

Upon entering the office of A. Watcher, it wasn’t difficult to imagine why the man had hired Ms. Norris. She sat, only half visible, behind an organized reception desk. Waves of dark hair framing her neat attire, rejecting any cosmopolitan advice that told professional women they should keep their locks up high.

Her visage rested on the cool side of mild, lips carefully drawn with some designer lipstick and pursed into a thin line. A dusky jacket and dress hugged her frame, causing creases to form in all the places which heightened her powers of suggestion. Any other fool would simply fall into line.

Tinsley, on the other hand, had married a woman a bit too much like that. It had ended how he’d imagined it would—an attempt on his life by a serial spouse-killer. A femme fatale. And it wasn’t a case he was looking to repeat any time soon.

“Ms. Norris,” he took his hat off his head, holding it in front. She rose as he walked to her, accepting a handshake.

“Detective,” she looked him over, not quite impressed, “how can I help?”

Norris was clear, leaving no room for further questions save the ones which had already been implied over the phone.

“Armand told me you were in charge of invitations,” he watched her for any flicker of recognition, “and that he hadn’t included any McClintock’s on the list.”

There was no change. She retook her seat, crossing one ankle over the other as she pretended to rake her mind for any mention of the name. After an appropriate amount of time passed, she decided she’d found her answer.

“He called the office saying he was an art dealer, and that my boss had instructed him to be added to the list. So, I did it.” She kept her voice even but couldn’t help clenching one fist against her skirt.

“That’s a fine bracelet, Ms. Norris,” he eyed the wrist connected to the tick, “does your employer pay well?”

“I suppose you could look that up for yourself, with or without me.”

“Was it a gift?”

She shook her head, “No gifts. There’s no man in my life, detective.”

He took a step back, rocking on his heels a bit. No budging, but she’d been wrong to imply he was referring to a man. In doing so, she had revealed what was on her mind, no matter how deeply buried.

“Alright then, I suppose I have what I need,” he put his hat back on its proper place, “if Mr. McClintock calls again would you tell him he’s a wanted man. And that’s by more than just me.”

“What do you mean,” she looked over the stacks of paper, a hand on the edge of the desk as if to stand and demand an answer. Realizing she had asked to quickly she resigned herself to silence.

“He stole a car when he made his getaway—a real nice one,” the bluff always went better when it had some truth mixed in. All the better if it was entirely true. He hovered in the doorway, sneaking a glance outside to ensure they were alone.

She sucked in a breath. “What exactly does that have to do with it?”

He blinked slowly, looking thoughtful but scrambling to form an answer on the spot. “Word on the street is if it isn’t returned by the end of the day, he’ll be contacting…outside sources to take it by force.”

“Isn’t that a little extreme?” She regarded him with a mix of disbelief and frustration as if he were talking nonsense. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about it.”

“I wanted you to know that you have the chance to save a man’s life by letting me get to him first.” It was a bit melodramatic, but he couldn’t give her the full truth. Not without giving away too many names and his own position in the matter. But one way or another, he had to make the stakes clear.

Norris looked insulted, but as the pause carried on it melted away into indecision. Suddenly, she appeared very small behind the desk. Her cold demeanor beginning to crack and crumble at the mercy of a spring thaw, revealing some heart buried beneath the need to appear indestructible.

“What would you like me to say,” she mumbled, now obscured behind the stacks. Tinsley sauntered back towards her, listening intently. “That I met him in a bar the night before the exhibition? That he bought me a drink, told me about what he did, and offered me some money up front to add him to the guest list? That was all I had to do, Mr. Tinsley—he never told me what his plans were.”

“And why did you agree to that,” he tisked lightly, “that’s a crime, Ms. Norris.”

Her fists uncurled as she ran her palms along the pleat of her skirt. She gathered herself slowly, vaguely wondering if she would find herself behind bars at the end of the day. Prison was never something she’d considered for herself.

When she spoke again, it was like telling a secret—something which the omnipotent businessmen and other members of high society weren’t meant to hear. “He was charming in a way that most men aren’t.”

It was a familiar story. The charismatic conman talks the victim into doing something foolish, be it giving away money or committing some crime, sometimes in return for absolutely nothing. The best in the business could do it for free.

Norris broke his train of thought, clearing her throat. She answered his judgments at a normal volume, rediscovering her courage and unwilling to be bested by a stranger’s opinions. “You wouldn’t understand. I don’t expect you too, but I didn’t just do it for the money.”

“No?” Careful not to interrupt her confession, he hovered a few feet away from the desk.

“If you have such promising intelligence on some of the city’s more undesirable citizens, I’m willing to assume you know what goes on here. I wanted my own taste of it, but that wasn’t all. I can’t explain it, but I wouldn’t have done it for anyone else.”

“That’s infatuation, I think.” He was cautious, just in case she had more to tell.

She held her head high, unashamed. “Maybe so.”

“What would happen if I told your employer what you’ve done,” he asked, as she seemed to be finished.

“At the least, I’d be fired.”

“If you could tell me where he went,” Tinsley trod carefully, “I might be able to exclude your name from my report.”

To his surprise, she didn’t brighten at the proposal. It was an offer he’d found himself making more often than he should have. An exclusion here, a blind eye there, and eventually he was surrounded by ghosts. Men and women who should have been behind bars but got away out of necessity to save someone else’s skin.

She rose from her seat, meeting his gaze with a newfound determination. “I don’t know where he went, but maybe I can find out. Like I said I can’t explain it, but I’d quite like to see him again. And I’d rather not see him dead.”

He didn’t reach out to offer any comfort, just tipped his hat. “How long until you can find out?”

“I just have to make a couple of calls.” The was more decisive than ever before, leaving no room for doubt in either of their minds. “Just give me an hour and hope I can get you an address.”

“You know how to reach me?”

“I think I do.”

He left her then, standing behind the desk, eyes trained on the floor as the weight of her commitment settled onto her shoulders. I was easy to see that Norris didn’t regret taking the bribe—at least when jail time was removed from the equation. But somehow, the man named McClintock had her worried above all else.

As he found his way back out of the building, he had to wonder what a man could say to have that sort of impact. Or, if two unlucky soulmates had truly discovered one another under some very unfortunate circumstances. Deciding to leave that portion of the case to fate, he set out towards the station to make some calls of his own.

Tinsley never got to make those calls, as he was at his desk only four minutes before the phone rang on its own accord.

“Officer Tinsley.”

“Report, Officer.”

He shot a look around the room. The station was somewhat open concept, all the desks gathered in one room with small dividers in between. A few other officers scribbled away or were busy made calls of the own. The Chief was nowhere in sight and no one seemed to be paying too much attention.

“It’s only been a couple hours—I’m working on it!”

The voice on the other end let out a low, disapproving hum.

“Well I’ve been trapped in my apartment all morning with the lights off so nobody starts asking questions,” Tinsley could imagine him lying across black satin sheets, a glazed look in his eyes as he was forced to behave for half a day.

“Entertain yourself,” he rolled his eyes, not noticing he’d earned a curious look from another officer two desks over.

“Oh, I am. I just got off the phone with two morons who can’t find the only man in Philadelphia named Banjo.” Tinsley could sense him biting back words—further complaints.

“I wouldn’t be so sure—it’s a popular instrument these days,” he’d stopped writing in the meantime, drifting into thought. It was easy to get lost in conversation with the man—but they always went in circles. He never got anything he needed, only serving to amuse the opposing party. Trying to take control of the situation had only gotten him so far in the past.

He continued. “Now if you don’t hang up, I might miss a call telling me exactly where our favorite art thief is camped out”

“So, you have been working,” Tinsley could hear the smile creeping into Ricky’s tone. He drummed his fingers off the desk, a bit tired of the carousel.

“It’s what I do. Goodnight Ricky,” he held the phone away from his ear, waiting just long enough to hear a wait—you on the other end before he set the phone back in its place, cutting the call. He checked the clock: 1:26 P.M. She should’ve called already.

In fact, it was another twenty minutes before the phone rang. Tinsley picked it up with catlike reflexes and made use of his usual greeting.

“Officer? I thought—never mind. Anyway,” she drew in a deep breath, “The Island. Tinicum Township. That’s all I have.”

Tinsley had already jotted it down, “Thank you. I’ll keep up my end of the deal if you walk away from here on out.”

“Of course.” The coolness returned to her voice as she addressed him. He couldn’t help but notice she sounded entirely sure of herself. Whether he should be concerned about it, or thankful, he wasn’t sure. But, there was no time to linger on it.

“Best of luck with Armand.” He was answered with some muffled thank you as the phone was already halfway back to its hook. Shrugging his coat over his shoulders he scrambled to find the city map he’d filed away.

After a bit of searching, he found it, tucked at the edge of the Delaware. The township was a four-hour journey at top speed, which he had no hope of achieving with any vehicle at his disposal. But he had a feeling if it took him any longer, Banjo would slip into the night, never to be seen again. He flipped through his notes to find a familiar number and rang it.

He heard the line open, but no greeting came. Then he remembered the man was meant to be a ghost for the day.

“It’s Tinsley. I have an address.”

“And I’ve got some information you might want to hear before you go charging off, so I wouldn’t recommend hanging up on me again. That’s no the right way to treat a client, especially one like me. I think I should make that clear.

Tinsley waited, pen poised as he ignored the chastising. Eventually, Ricky gave in to his own frustrations.

“Like I was trying to say earlier, I talked to Watcher and got a description off one of his guys. I sent out some of my more discreet forces to find out where the fucker came from. Turns out, nobody knows. Obviously, it’s an alias, but according to everyone I’ve talked to—”

Utter bafflement, that was the emotion Tinsley decided he was hearing. He quite enjoyed being on the receiving end of it, for a change.

“—he showed up out of nowhere. And I have it on good authority that he doesn’t like to stick around. So, I suggest you get wherever the hell your informant told you to go and shut this thing down tonight.”

He had to admit Ricky was probably right. If they waited any longer than the day they’d been given, he was sure the man named McClintock would vanish into thin air. The only thing standing between them was a whole lot of distance.

“I’m going to need a favor,” he tapped the pen against his chin, hoping Ricky was feeling generous. Or at the very least, under enough pressure to give him what he needed.

“What is it,” finally with a hint of professionalism.

“I need to get somewhere, but it’s at least four hours away and I don’t have that kind of time.”

Quiet on the other line. Tinsley held the pen still, waiting.

“There’ll be a driver outside the station in fifteen minutes. Don’t get too chummy.”

“Sorry, that’s another thing I do.”

#an instrumental drive #welcome to the product of edit hell #one part to go #and it's a long one

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anomaly00-archive · 5 years

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When Comes the Dawn Writing Update #1

Word Count: 1582 out of ?

Pages: 6

Status: Drafting

Hey! Hi! So...this is a thing now.

Imma be honest, I totally procrastinated on Ch.5--like, I haven’t even finished writing it. I just have a vague idea of cinematic scenes that I want to put in. But, uh, progress is progress, right? Even if it is like five and a half pages of crap. But before we dive into what the happens in Ch. 5, I should probably give you some context.

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LAST TIME ON WCTD...

The story starts with Fenice, 15 years old and absolutely craving for a life outside of her comfy countryside manor, having something similar to a panic attack (I say similar, because I didn’t do much research on panic attacks on writing this scene because I wanted to capture the emotions I wanted without getting side-tracked) because she may-or-may-not have accidentally poisoned her own mother.

After being helped to calm down by her governess Misstress Leda, Fenice is told that her mother is still barely alive but will probably not survive through the night.

Mother and daughter have their last moments together, during which her mother (Titania) warns Fenice to be careful, as the people who targeted her may come after Fenice next.

Titania die at the end of the day

A funeral was held at the capital where Fenice meets her estranged father (the king) for the very first time.

After the funeral, King Dantalion can be seen stressing in his study because oh gods his ex-wife is dead, he just met his daughter after more than a decade and when did she get so big??? and what in the abyss is he supposed to do with Fenice??

Fenice plays a game of chess to prioritize her goals. Strangely enough, it works

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AND NOW, BACK TO THE PRESENT

So, chapter five is primarily to introduce the second main character (who is also, technically, the antagonist?) Prince Charles, the de facto heir apparent. A regular ol’ prince charming with a penchant for sneaking out of the palace walls to have some fun and becomes insanely curious of his new neighbor. You can check out the character intro I made for him here

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Scenes

As of now, Ch. 5 has only two scenes, most of it being comprised of

Scene 1: There are rumors about the palace of a deadborn, a word that Charles doesn’t exactly know the meaning of, thinking that it means a ghost. He doesn’t believe in spirits but does start putting some stock into the rumors when he notices the presence of another person living in his wing of Erthain palace. A wing that he and his servants has been the sole occupant of for twelve years.

It’s not that he’s the sort of person to believe in spirits and superstitions--really, all that stuff is nonsense people say to scare children--so the first few days of people talking about the deadborn was met with scoffs and rolled eyes.

Then Charles started noticing things. Erthain palace held a separate wing for royal children and visiting royalty, and for most of his twelve years of existence, Charles was the sole occupant. It’s why he took note of the extra guards stationed in the wings or the two new maidservants milling about the halls. The maids--twins from the looks of it—always report to the chambers a couple of doors away from his, but whenever he’d ask about his new neighbor, they’d always give a vague answer.

A slightly extended version of this scene is in the character intro post I linked above.

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Scene 2: A flashback scene where Charles iterates his first-ever encounter with the ‘deadborn.’

The distance between them and the shadows that streaked her face obscured the woman’s features from his sight, but her red hair could never be missed. In Aetier, or even in lands of Southern Raia, the people’s hair ranged from palettes of a sandy brown to deep obsidian; a rare few, those whose blood originates farther north, could flaunt fair and golden hair. But never red.

To Charles’ knowledge, he only knew of one Aetierian that could boast hair so red.

And the king held a proper funeral for her mere weeks ago.

Shock, awe, indifference, he could not say what emotion it was that came over him at that moment. Only that her gaze rooted him to his spot--that is, if she even noticed him--as if she had cast a spell to turn him to stone.

Who was she?

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This is also the chapter that everyone including the author is introduced to Gwyn Aelid, a young Witch Doctor-in-training (or just Witch), whose serving as the apprentice to the Royal Healer/studying to become a Healer (So like, think a nurse practitioner studying to become a doctor). I don’t really know how the hell he came to be, but I blame it on Charles. Gwyn, from an author’s point off view, is like that one character that just randomly appeared on the page. Like, you never planned for him, never thought of his existence, but then he’s there and you already named him, and well, I guess he can stick around. He may or may not become one of my favorite children in the future.

He’s about a year older than Charles, skinny in the way that mothers and grandmothers everywhere are affronted and want to start shoveling food in his mouth, and whose sharp features contrast with his overall soft personality. Despite his somewhat respected status as an apprentice, he comes from humble origins and mostly relies on his benefactor (the Royal Healer) for necessities.

He’s also the unwilling accomplice to prince Charles’ escapades.

“Look, I need a favor from you.”

At those words, Gwyn slumped his shoulders. His eyes lowered, lips twisted as if he was about to release a groan or a sigh but then thought against it. Charles has seen that look more than enough times to know what was coming next.

“Again? Sir, you cannot keep asking me to do this,” he hissed, eyes shifting at their surroundings. “If anyone--or gods forbid, the king— found out my role in your ‘disappearances’ they’ll have my head! Or worse, my career!”

Charles smiled, the corners of his mouth stretched to the corner of his eyes in that charming way the ladies at court praised him for. “Oh don’t be such a worrywart, Gwyn. I’m a prince; nothing is going to happen to you while I’m around.”

“No, of course not. But what if you’re not around because you died or got kidnapped, and the king found out and arrested me for treason. I’ll be a traitor, a criminal! Then I’ll never be able to finish my apprenticeship because I’ll be rotting in a cell and no healer would ever take a prisoner as an apprenticeship because— “

“Gwyn.”

“Shut up?”

“Good lad.”

The Witch sighed, his free hand pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look. I get it. You want to go out, but you have to understand that this—” he waved his hands around— “thing isn’t just affecting you.”

As you can see, I’m absolutely shitty at dialogue.

That last bit of conversation (the shut up part) was actually inspired by the dynamic between Prince Arthur and Merlin in BBC’s Merlin, though a more tone-downed version because Gwyn is very much a law-abiding/respect your betters type boy.

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Fun Fact: I wrote the entirety of Ch. 5 on a plane during the start of my vacation and haven’t touched it since, except for doing a few read-throughs. I’m probably going to end up changing a lot of this by the time I finish the chapter.

Also, how do 12/13-year-olds talk????? Like? They sound so formal in my wip? But that makes me see them as a lot older than they actually are which really goes against my “timeline”?? Maybe it’s the cause of a strict upper-class education and a sheltered childhood...yeah...

That’s all I have written so far. The next scene I have planned introduces Fenice’s secondary antagonist, Queen Kathleen? Adelaide? Elizandra? god she’s gone through so many names I give up

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Here’s a dialogue snippet I’ll be writing/expanding soon:

“Mother?”

“Yes, dearest.”

“What’s a deadborn?”

“Someone you should be grateful for.”

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Taglist (Message me if you want to be added/removed): @schwarzekatze1999

@aloonycynic

That’s all for now folks! I’m still trying to figure out where I want this chapter to go, but I think I’m getting close. It’s going to be a bit difficult to continue writing through with school just around the corner, so I’ll be praying for some time and motivation to push me along. Either way, I’m pretty happy with how some of the scenes turned out :)

Signing off!

-Maddie

#writeblr #writing struggles #writers of tumblr #creative writing #original writing #am writing #whencomesthedawn #WCTD #wip:wctd #my wip #wip #historical fantasy #fantasy #writing update #excerpts #spilled ink

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darkarfs · 5 years

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Street Hunter

A film so mired in obscurity it doesn't even have a Wikipedia page. One of several films I own that never even got a bootleg DVD release, and you can probably only watch it if you find a Portuguese subtitled version on Dailymotion, or own the VHS and requisite VCR. Before we dive into this film, I should mention that the only reason I own this movie in the first place is that, around 2010-2011 (a simpler time, really) I became stone-cold obsessed with the career of one Reb Brown. Reb, for the MST3K set, played David Ryder in the South African railing-kill-fest that was Space Mutiny. You know, that guy. Tall, beefy, had all the acting range of an airhorn, looked kind of like a retired football player? He's actually had a storied, odd career, one that traverses a lot of genres and a lot of roles. Mostly, he did Italian knock-offs of movies like Terminator, Predator, Rambo, that sort of thing. A lot, and I mean a LOT of war movies, mostly ones taking place during Vietnam. But then he was also in things like Uncommon Valor with Gene Hackman, the Howling 2: Stirba Werewolf Bitch with Christopher Lee and Sybil Danning, and was actually the first ever Captain America, even before that really goofy one with Matt Salinger in 1990. And for some reason, I was more than entertained by watching him do what he does, and what he tends to do more often than not is...well, yell and fire machine guns into the jungle. He does that...a LOT. And he's in this film! But first, if I may reflect for just a moment. As soon as I put this into the VCR, it gave me the sneak previews of other movies made by the same distributor. I'm not a nostalgia sucker, I don't agree with things being better in the old days. But I genuinely, truly miss these. The previews on DVDs are always for the big blockbuster releases, but the ones on VHS? Who fucking KNEW what you were getting! The previews on B-movie VHS tapes are often how I found the next movie I was gonna watch! Turns out, tho, that the first preview was for the aforementioned 1990 Captain America with Matt Salinger. The 2nd was for a movie I really wanna check out now, though, and it's a ream of unconnected nonsense called the House of Usher, with Oliver Reed! This was before bad movies became that self-aware kind of bad. As a friend of mine once said; anyone can knowingly shit their pants, that's not funny. A person *not realizing* they shit their pants...that's comedy. The hero's name is Logan Blade, a name up there with Snake Plissken and John Matrix for "most action-hero name of all time." Not played by Reb (he's actually the weird, semi-warped villain in this piece), but instead by the late Steve James, who usually ended up playing the hero's sidekick in a lot of movies like this one. And you'd probably recognize ol' Frank Vincent, aka the White-Haired Guy with the Black Eyebrows in Every Movie About the Mafia. The movie starts with a bunch of heavily-armed garbage men raiding a gravesite to steal a mountain of cocaine from a guy’s casket. And they’re led by...John Leguizamo?? Yeahp. That’s him.

The guys kick over a tombstone that is 100% made of styrofoam...(one guy’s foot is all it takes, and I wish I could gif it, because it bounces)

and then are suddenly flanked by a bunch of Italian mobsters. Turns out Leguizamo’s gang are Colombian drug lords, and they’re here to steal the mob’s cocaine from this grave. The Italians have them surrounded, until Luigi’s group is flanked by 7 more dudes, led by...

Ah! There’s my dude. He immediately shouts and he and the goons shoot them all dead. THEN Logan Blade shows up, and I gotta admit, he looks like a seriously legit, badass dude.

You know, you’re kind of destined to become a renegade cop or bounty hunter with a name like Logan Blade. You don’t run into many wedding photographers with that name. He takes out all of Luigi’s goons and takes him in alive, and then maybe the weirdest, most sincerely funny thing about this film to me.

An 80s action movie where the police chief and the renegade bounty hunter...get along great! Like, uncharacteristically well! “Dammit, Blade! The mayor’s been all over my ass about those 6 bodies you left in the cemetery! You’re making my WHOLE department look great! You keep this up, and I’ll promote your ass to lieutenant so fast it’ll make your head spin!” Then we meet Blade’s friend, an avuncular grey-haired guy who may as well say “I’ve reunited with with my wife after 3 years and the guys at the precinct are throwing me a giant retirement party tomorrow” for how quickly and seamlessly he telegraphs the fact that he’s next to die. He calls Blade “paranoid” and insists that he “worries too much.” Gets shot in the next scene, and frees Leguizamo’s character (named Angel, should have mentioned that.) Reb cautions Angel that he should “always follow orders.” Y’see, Reb his basically a mercenary who stone-facedly pines for the days of the greatest generals, your Alexander the Great, your Genghis Khan, your Napoleon. He even tells Angel that “you should be as Philotas was to me, Alexander the Great.” (Alexander the Great had Philotas falsely accused of an assassination attempt and then had him beat to death with fucking rocks. Your references won’t get past me, movie!) Then we get to maybe my favorite scene in the entire movie. The Diablo gang send a crew of 3 guys to assassinate Blade’s girlfriend, which will either make him surrender in terror, or drive him into an insane murder fury. Now, I have real issues with this in films, when someone kills the girl to get to the guy. Happens in all the big action films where the good guy is muscling in on the rival gangs or the mob or whoever. She’s being held by one guy, and defiantly spits in his friends’ face. My face fell the first time. “Oh, no.” I thought.

He goes to slash her face with a switchblade...

...she ducks, and he accidentally slits the other guy’s throat. She then takes out the one guy with a candle holder, and the third...well, thank God she was using a cast-iron pan to cook...something...when they show up. She throws the hot food in his face and then bashes his head in with the pan. ...my man Reb has not trained these men well. But it turns out, a cop was on the mafia’s take! (This guy was in one scene, eating a donut, not a single line. You’d never have guessed a man you’d assumed an extra would be working for Don Hermano!)

So they take his girlfriend, and then Blade gives chase...

...in what looks like a 1979 Ford Econoline. Not exactly great for catching bad guys.

...unless he had a fucking HYPERDRIVE installed. What?! Yeah, okay, I’m on board! Blade closes in on the corrupt cop and Reb, who are...where else? A warehouse on the outside of town. Blade brings his dog, a nameless Doberman (he never calls it anything but “boy”) to help the fact that he’s outnumbered. Reb then tells one of the bad guys to “shoot that mutt!” I again braced myself to be disappointed and sad. The bad guy fires three shots and misses with all three as the dog runs away. He turns to Reb. “Sorry, jefe,” he says.

Reb immediately shoots him in the head. Got a genuine laugh out of me. A thing used by the villain 3 times in Sudden Death as a punchline just made me sad. Here, actual laugh. Dunno how these things work, but I imagine it’s a matter of tone. There’s some weird, “what we saw in ‘Nam” undercurrent through the whole movie. It’s what hardened Blade and made him a bounty hunter, but also what made Reb the general-worshipping lunatic merc he ends up being. It’s not but touched on, but I guess it’s as good a theme as any for a hero and a villain in one of these movies. The problem I have with this now...is that the movie ends really anticlimactically. Blade disposes of the goombas and the diablos in basically one fell swoop, and then challenges Reb to a one-on-one fight. He handily whoops Reb’s ass (a little disappointing, seeing how all he does is talk a great big heaping game about how the generals inspired his military tactics and how he fights) and then...leaves. No, really. Blade wins the fight and then leaves Reb behind. Reb goes to find him, but it turns out Blade has, for no reason, a block of C-4. Dunn where he got it. Reb trips over it, and it literally makes a squib-like “PUFF!”

and he falls through what amounts to a perfect square hole he was standing on. Blade essentially set up a trap door for him, and then Reb just stepped on it. Blade punches Angel, restrains him, and then...the movie just kind of ends.

A movie with a lot of promise, but with an ending I couldn’t help but find flat. But they used by boy Reb real well, and that’s got to account for something.

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sugoi-writes · 6 years

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Okay, so since I was feeling under the weather and stressed at the same time, I felt like writing some light hearted head cannons of the muppets. So here is a sick/stressed s/o, being helped through things/cared for by the Matsus!

Osomatsu

Honestly, he would be the initial shit head that would poke you with a stick and ask if you were dead. But seeing the look on your face, whether you were in pain, upset, angry, sick… He’d come back to reality pretty quickly. He is the oldest of his brothers, and understands, to a basic degree, of how to care for someone in this situation.

Though he will tease the ever living daylights out of you, asking for “favors” in return once you feel up to it/are physically/mentally better, he does as asked and told. But, he will prefer you to lay down and get sleep, giving you the space you may not know that you needed. But you may wake up or look up to find Oso cleaning up, restocking supplies for you, or just coming in to check on you every once in a while, with a sincere smile on his face. He loves caring for you, even if he may come off as rude or crass at first. With his help, you know things will be better for you in no time.

Karamatsu

Sick? Depressed? Stressed? These are things that Karamatsu never wants to hear you say. If he sees you in disarray, he showers you with affections. Though this may be hard to handle if you need space, Kara will do his very best to please you. But he does get very worried for you. He fetches anything you request. He makes sure you are comfy. He gives you a heating blanket or a fan if the temp of the room is off to you, or if you’re sweaty or shivering. He has a very go-getter attitude, and his positivity and love for you is infectious. It will rub off on you, one way or the other, and soon, you’ll forget that you were even sick at all.

Though if Karamatsu is pulled away for being too dotting, he has to busy himself. He will try to make you food, clean your room/house, organize something… Anything. If he’s not actively doing something, he fidgets. If he isn’t actively holding your hand and cooing to you, he worries. He feels like the magical cure-all would be his sweet nothings and affections, but understands the importance of rest/space/or meds. But you see Karamatsu peeking on you VERY often, looking over to you hopefully. He hovers close by, in hopes to hear your voice, so that he may do something for you. This man is extra, and a saint. And this part of him makes you smile to yourself. Even if his lovey dovey care can make you feel a bit overwhelmed, its the gestures and thoughts that count. You will also get better in no time, eager to return Karamatsu’s affections.

Choromatsu

Seen as the more sensible of the brothers, he will definitely know when you’re unwell. If it isn’t something physical, he will ask for what you need, and do anything you ask. He may even be willing to do more out of the way errands and requests, but ONLY because you need his help. He is responsible, but he could be just as lazy as any of the other NEETS. If something physically is wrong with you, he will use prior experiences and his mother’s tips and tricks for good/quick fixes. He tries his best, and at times, all he can offer you is medicine, really hot soup, and his time. If you know anything, please tell him. If he wants to use an old wive’s trick on you, he may need to be told that that stuff may not actually work.

9.9999999 percent of the time, he helps. But sometimes it doesn’t have an affect. Choro may become frustrated, sad he couldn’t help, and a little angry with himself. But as you gulp down his soup or bundle up, you’ll chuckle. It’ll be one of the few times that his more doting, “motherly” side comes out. He’ll blush like a baby if you thank him for helping anyway.

At the end of the day, Choro may need some guidance, because he doesn’t know everything. But he will try his hardest for you, to be sure you are well/put back on your feet again.

Ichimatsu

He can sense things easily, especially regarding mood. If you’re particularly stubborn, it may take him a minute to realize any physical ailments, though. But when he realizes things, he will take you gently by your shoulders, and lead you to lay down/sit down. Do not question Ichimacchan. First and foremost, he makes sure you’re comfy, as diligently as Kara. Fans, blanket, damp rag on your forehead, etc. He will also make the cats stay away from you if they would be a burden, but will also let them lay with you if you need their company.

Before you even ask for something, Ichi is already headed out. He will remember the most obscure details from past conversations. He’ll remember the candy/drink/food that reminded you of your childhood, and get it for you. He’ll remember the medication that you took last time you got like this, and have it filled for you. He remembers your favorite movie or book, if you need it to unwind. He ends up getting every little thing, leaving you sleeping at home, or wondering why he left. You think he may have abandoned his efforts to take care of you, until you see him hauling half a ton of things up the stairs with him. He gets really embarrassed if you point out something that only he remembered. He flusters easy, and will easily get a bit quiet, or switch personas on you if he has to.

If you want his company, he may prod you a bit, grinning and asking,” Is this fine, kitten~? You like having the fan on your face~? What do we saaaay…?”. Ichimatsu-sama.exe can easily make an appearance, knowing that this persona makes you just as flustered as he is, or giggle uncontrollably.

But if you need space, he is one of the brothers that will genuinely grant it to you. And he only comes to you when you need him. He will leave you to your devices, but will be sure to secretly check on you, if the opporitunity arises. He, out of all the brothers, is easily the most flexible with you. And he does everything for you genuinely, with hopes to make you feel better or at ease. You’ll find him cuddling against you if you awake up later, and you’ll ask why he was so close if you were sick. But he’ll just smile against your shoulder, kissing it.

“If I were going to get sick, I would have by now… if this is okay, I… wanna lay here a little longer.” You’re his little love bug. And he will take care of you in any way that you need.

Jyushimatsu

The sunshine’s other half?! SICK?!? How can you get sick?? What is “sick”? Jyushimatsu has long forgotten how to getsick, and his immune system is strong as ever. Even if he doesn’t actually help you feel better, he will be sure you’re laughing and enjoying yourself, even with you feeling this bad. He knows what makes you smile. And he will (literally) bend over backwards and spray water out of his ears and nose if it makes that cute laugh escape your lips.

Need space? Uhh… this one is harder for him. But if you’re firm enough, he will listen. After the fourth time. But with mental shutdown or general depression/tiredness… He knows that it isn’t an easy fix. He can jump over the moon for you, and there may just be a few things that just can’t make you smile. Can’t make you feel better all the time. But he tries for you. He will be willing to talk with you, listening intently. He can’t offer the most sound advice, but he knows exactly what you’re struggling with, even if you never knew that he struggled, too. He assures you. Shh’s you. Brushes your hair out of your face, humming off key dreamily as he rocks you a bit. It’s one of the few times that he can mellow out and be calm/quiet. Whatever care you need, Jyushimatsu will do his best to understand where you’re coming from, and work with you in his own wacky way. And soon enough he’ll have you in his arms, the both of you wore out from the day as you sleep the cares away.

Todomatsu

If you’re physically sick in ways that involve puke, blood, or anything unsanitary, he hesitates with helping you. May even steer clear and ask his Mom to come over to help. But things that some find unsightly like rashes? Swelling? Tired backs, tears, and many things associated with depression… Totty will either know what to do, or Google it on the spot. He is one that will make you pamper yourself. If you need a shower, he’ll bathe you, and let you unwind with one of his expensive face masks he just bought himself. If you like bubble baths and bath bombs, you’re in for a treat. He’ll let you use his lotions, polishes, his brushes… anything. So even if you’re down for the count in anyway, you’ll look like a million bucks. You are almost repulsed by Totty’s insistence to make yourself decent, but you’re surprised what a little nip and tuck can do. You aren’t necessarily cured, but feel a notch better.

Once you are more relaxed, he offers to rub your back, feet, thighs, etc. And he lets you wear some of his loose fitting night shirts. He wants you to be surrounded by comfort. And the smell he leaves on his hoodie is a comfort to you. He loves to indulge in a lazy day with you (which is are for him!), with watching movies, doodling, chatting, reading… anything you feel like doing at the time. He may show you funny vines and you may end up gushing about some popular K Pop group. When you talk, he’s fully invested. And you feel like a damn princess/prince.

If you need space, Totty also knows when to back off. But he will at least make sure that you’re okay, hydrated, cozy, and ACTUALLY fine. If you need him, you can always text him, and he’ll head right over, willing to help you out or do something with you. It’s never a boring moment with him, much like Jyushi. But to top it off, over time? You actually feel much better. As he would come to bring you some milk, tea, or whatever you required at the time, you find yourself smiling and thanking him. He’ll tease you on how genuinely sweet you sound, and you may need to give him a playful, non-existent punch to the shoulder for him to ease up. He’s the ultimate twin, with a little bit of habits picked up from his older brothers. Though he denies it, he has always looked up to them, and you notice all the little habits he’s picked up on. But you wouldn’t change it for the world. At the end of the day, Totty will always be Totty, and he is always the pep in your step that helps you through the day.

Polymatsu

Oh boy. It’s chaos with these guys. When they figure out what’s wrong, they’re all scared to react. They have a little meeting, and everyone is shooting ideas left and right. Good and bad ones. But ultimately, everyone gets a role, and they stick to it.

Totty and Jyushi will keep you entertained, and make sure you always have something to engage you, if you want it. They stay close with you, and are the messengers for Kara and Ichi. Kara and Ichi are the errand boys, and with their unified goal of keeping you safe and comfy, they get all the supplies you can ever think of. Kara brings comforts and indulgences. Ichi will bring everything vital and necessary. They work together if you need to move around, be rotated, etc.

Oso and Choro, lastly, are in charge of keeping Momma posted, and asking for ideas for food you can eat, ways to help you get better faster, and the rituals you’ll have to go through to get on your feet. They experiment. The both of them are good thinkers in their own ways, and their sometimes polar opinions can come together to bring something new to the table. They actively work to make you healthier, make sure you take your meds, and things like that.

All together, the twins are a great team. They have spats and scuffles (especially between the older siblings), but they look past their differences in order to help YOU. You’ll find yourself at the end of the night, cradling 6 tired, contented men. They are relieved that you’re better, but they may have pushed themselves too hard. You pray for them to NEVER get sick at the same time, on the off chance that you will be the only one around to help. But you push those thoughts from your head, snuggling up to all of your NEETs, smiling as you all drift to sleep, 6 bodies gently protecting you from the cold night.

#osomatsu san #mr osomatsu #osomatsu san imagines #my writing #osomatsu #karamatsu #choromatsu #ichimatsu #jyushimatsu #todomatsu #x reader #polymatsu #I had a really bad skin reaction to something and its getting fucked over more with stress #BUT #I got a shot and I am at home being a restful bean #will get better soon probably hahah #I hope you guys don't mind this kind of stuff? Agh

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eorzeasntm · 6 years

Photo

Hi everyone! Last week our models battled to the death with the primals. Our intrepid Warriors of Light risked life and limb for some of the best battle shots we’ve seen in the history of the competition.

The ever present threat against Eorzea, primals are our primary foe. How are you keeping Eorzea (or Doma or Yanxia) safe from these menaces?

However, even though everyone did a great job this week (and gave the judges and the community absolute fits - the rankings were all over the place), only one model emerged from the pile of corpses with the best overall score by a mere third of a point:

Rymmrael Bhaldraelwyn

Congratulations! Not even Ramuh’s beard can stand up to your fierce display of paladin strength. Time for a shave and a haircut, primal!

The next round of ENTM Tumblr Cycle 10 will hopefully be posted sometime before midnight EST on Friday, October 12th - assuming Michael stays far, far away.

Please check below for feedback from our judges.

A note from Kat: Models, please know that if you have any questions or want clarification from a judge on a critique, you are welcome to DM them from the Discord channel. Often when the round is this excellent the decisions come down to tiny nit picks, so a suggestion for how a shot could have been improved is not always the same thing as a low vote in the ranks. You could be a judge’s favorite that week and they’ll still have something to say that could have made it even more amazing.

Judge Kusuh

Hey all! Just as a note: these critiques are being written on the road due to a major life move! These may be a bit shorter, but as always, feel free to reach out me with any clarifications!

Ni’ko: Colored marker is an *amazing* color choice for this picture! Everything about this picture adds to it in an amazing way: the dark sun in the back center drawing the shot together, the line connecting you and Ifrit, the ice shards adding sharp edges to the frame of the shot; everything adds something! Here’s my caution though: this picture walks that very thin line between enough and *too much*. While everything in a shot can have a purpose, there is such a thing as overloading a frame, even if you believe it’s all necessary! I want you to keep an eye on that in the coming weeks, making sure to really keep an editorial eye on what you do.

Cowbot: The deadly slice of Odin gives me some maaajor flashbacks to the DPS checks of that fight when it came out, so I’m glad you were able to catch it in a much more showy and epic light! I believe the cinema frame here was a good choice, it’s like the climax of a movie! Now, here’s something I’ve noticed in a few of your shots, including this one: you are a lalafell, and therefore you are shorter then most of your fellow models. This is going to produce unique challenges, mostly in terms of visibility. In this shot, while the look and effect is great, I’m having a hard time seeing you! For the future, I want you to try zooming in a lot more! See what you can get from a different perspective.

Ysildor: I very much appreciate the choice of color and use of the tools available to you in gpose, you’ve clearly put a lot of thought into what you need to do to make the shots as aesthetically pleasing as possible. Here’s what I’m noticing this week: the shot feels a little crowded to me. This mostly comes from the fact that while you are clearly engaged in combat with Odin, the fact that you two overlap on different planes makes me wonder exactly where you are looking and aiming your attacks. Whereas I commonly ask others to zoom in, I’d like to see what you can do with a wider shot in the weeks to come! Let’s see how you do with much more room to work with.

Judge Vederah

Azalea: Stylistically there's some pretty neat things happening here. I love how you put some thought into the glamour you wore for this particular shoot- helps your character fit in with the shot and helps with the narrative. I also like how both you and the primal are super imposed over one another. His might may be looming over you, but the ferocity in the characters expression shows where the true power lies. However, the picture is so over saturated with blue and green hues that you lose a large portion of the primal's shape and a lot of the details on the floor for that mechanic. Perhaps a different filter, or less direct lighting would've helped. Lily: I love how crisp and clear this image is- like almost to the point where it looks like a screenshot from a cut scene. How your character is positioned in relation to the primal makes it feel like they're actively engaged in battle. I also really like the contrast between your character's blue hued armor against the warmer toned backdrop and Ifrit. It's a really well composed shot- and the only thing I could point out as maybe something to change would be to scoot the shot a touch more to the left so it's more centered.

Rymm: I love the pink and deep blue tones of this shot- and how you matched your glamour to it. It's always important that your character fits into the settings. I also really like the angle of the shot and how it directs the eye over to Ramuh who is just being completely surrounded by that amazing lightning graphic. I think the only con to this image is that it's a little dark around the edges. So much so that it almost makes the image as a whole too muted. If the lighting was a touch brighter, those amazing colors would've popped even more- making this image mindblowingly good.

Judge M’Telihgo

Wren: I want to start by saying how much I absolutely adored your picture from last week. You were front and center and in the irrefutable focus of your picture. That picture was you and everyone knew it. Why? Partly you are in the center part of your picture, we always start there when looking at an image. You are the only thing that is blue. We can see your beautiful face, you should show it to us much more often, you are very pretty! I’m sorry Wren, I cannot say the same things for this week. It helps that you are the only thing in white, it really does so +1 for you. I’m kinda sad that I cannot see your face this week. I also have pink hair and thanks to a request by my bf, I am using the same hairstyle right now. I would love to see how your face looks with it too. A slightly different camera angle to focus on you a little more and show your face could be just what you need! Shiva commands much more of the area of this picture than you do. Neither one of you are facing the camera and that would help your image too. I can tell you are trying, and you do get credit from me. This next round is for a close up, please, let me see how awesome you look in that!!

Ona: Your picture also suffers from your face being obscured. Taken from the opposite side, much more of your face would be visible since the hairstyle is asymmetrical. I like the effect, it does look like you are fighting Garuda, you lined it up well. Unfortunately, it leaves you in a weird pose that I feel detracts from your image. I do think a different outfit may have helped you some too. You skin tone doesn’t pop against the blue background, it makes you blend a little bit and since your armor is light and has a low coverage it takes some focus away from you. I like the lighting on Garuda, it makes her look like she has some depth to her and that is also something that you lack because of the pose the action left you in. Again, it’s a nice pose and it works well for the action part, just not so much for the you part. Keep at it, I know you will get there.

Judge Rongi

Adam: This week you really used contrasting colors to your advantage. I love the colors in this shot! This pencil filter was a genius choice because not only does it make the background look fantastic, it also made you look like youre straight out of a comic book. You look amazing in this shot, but one of the hard things about taking screenshots with mobs is getting them to also look good. Garuda has a lot of appendages, and as such, if she isnt in the right position, she can become a confusing mess. If Garuda had looked like she does in Ona's shot in your shot, I think this picture would have been much stronger.

James: Normally I do not like these portrait style shots, but both you and Haila really pulled out some great shots with it. While you both pulled it off very well here, I think where you faltered in comparison is by not doing a back shot. In the shot you submitted it looks like you are summoning the Pheonix yourself, a lot like Azalea did as well, but I think it would have been stronger if you had been facing the Phoenix. Many models this week are facing away from the primals, but the way they are positioned makes them still seem engaged with them in battle. The Pheonix's wings are also cut off at the tips, which I dont think a horizontal shot would have fixed because then we couldn't have seen you either. I didnt rank you low, but I wanted to explain why I didn't rank you super high.

Nadede: Wow! This shot is amazing. I love the color contrast, the pose of both of you, the way you fit like a puzzle piece into the silhouette of Leviathan, everything. I feel like you went for something less flashy, and it totally paid off. I wish we could see more of a weapon, where your hand is being cut off at a strange place, but not focusing on that, only looking between you and Leviathan, i think this shot is great. Wonderful job.

Judge Kai

Chee: Good job with the setup of this image. I love that you’re dominant, and I can see you clearly! Also, you were very smart to wear lighter clothes, seeing that the ground and sky are much darker. It makes you pop without needing to force it. The lighting is also lovely, and I love how dramatic it looks on your face. Concept wise, I see what you were going for but it seems more like you’re getting ready to flee than actually face this menace. Also, the outfit you chose to wear, while great color-wise, is a bit off where it pops out with the knee. Unfortunately, SE didn’t map these outfits to fall naturally when turning and having such a pose, so it ends up just popping straight out and leaves my eye wondering what exactly your body is doing. Overall, love the lighting and I see what you were going for but I don’t think it quite got there. As for the outfit, kudos on picking a color that makes you stand out, but from the waist down it’s just not working for me.

Haila: First off I will say this… that is a beautiful shot, and I love that you made it a long shot and not a wide. It really gives you the height to show how massive this creature really is! That said, concept-wise I’m not sure if it comes off as facing a foe. It seems more like you’re summoning it, and you’re the for about to lay waste to a bunch of innocent people (which hey, I’m not against this because it’s awesome looking). Nice job on the lighting, and on picking an outfit that makes you pop. As for the back to the camera, I’ve always said I'm not fond of it unless it really adds something to the image, and I’m not sure if this really adds to it. Overall it’s an awesome picture, you pop and have nice lighting. Seeing Levi fly out of the water like that is amazing… but I’m just not sure it really follows the concept, as well as some of the others, did.

Lantis: This looks like a battle shot, and I love how you have yourself leaping into the air to meet your foe head-on. Concept wise, I’ll say you hit it pretty much dead on. I’ll also say that it was smart for you to use the glowing weapons and that arc of light under you to attract the eye. If you didn’t have those bright color to pull the eye to you, I don’t think this would have worked as well as it does. The image does come off very dark, and your clothes almost blend into the background without the help of the light around you. If you’d somehow made this image a bit lighter, or have worn something that popped a bit more I think it would have helped your character become more dominant in the image. Overall I think this is a great setup, and the concept is spot on, but the darkness of the image leaves you dependent on bright pops of color to attract the eye instead of your character.

#entm tumblr cycle 10 #ffxiv #entm

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tobns · 6 years

Text

SNOWED IN: A (Tragic) Christmas Story — part one.

In Which Jackie Jinxes It (Hell Freezing Over, That Is)

There’s a saying that exists – a tad obscure, but a rather accurate saying nonetheless: a true friend’s silence hurts more than an enemy’s rough words. I’m not quite sure who came up with that soundbite of wisdom, but they must have lived on the same wavelength as me for a short period of time. Silence coming from the people that at one point, meant the most to you, stings more than digging out bullets that came from the gun of someone who hates your guts. It’s a bitter pill that’s hard to swallow down, and the only cure that I’ve ever found is to dilute the hollow ache into overall numbness is to just fill yourself with endless other things and people as best you can, and leave absolutely no time to dwell on other thoughts. It’s relatively foolproof.

Relatively is the operative phrase, of course; somehow, I got tripped up in a few loose wires in my oh-so-easy, rock-solid method in avoiding the aftermath of radio signals going quiet. The push that triggered my fall was unlocking my phone to see a new text message waiting for me on the lockscreen.

Jennifer Lawrence is the type of person that swears they don’t need a cell phone, regardless of the situation they find themselves in. She could be out in the middle of the Nevada desert, stranded, on the verge of dehydration, and her chances of survival would be better without the aid of a phone to call for help. She’s attained the level of fame that having only one cell phone no longer cuts it; there’s a work cell phone, a celebrity-personal cell phone, a personal personal cell phone, the whole nine yards and then some. Jen never even liked being the owner of a laptop, so the fact that I’m supposed to believe she has actually picked up a phone for a reason other than being within an inch of her life, much less having used emojis (Jennifer Lawrence is not an emoji person) doesn’t fly. In fact, all it does is signal the arrival of the body snatchers to Planet Earth.

So, there I was, staring down at the glowing screen of my phone with a well-written, proper grammar and punctuation included, paragraph long text message from none other than my former costar whom I haven’t heard from since I turned seventeen looking back up at me, the three emojis tacked on at the end a downright mockery. I briefly contemplated on checking the Internet to see if any news had broken on Jennifer Lawrence’s phone falling into the possession of hackers, and when I tried sending a response to debunk the ridiculousness once and for all (asking if it was really her, if she was sure she had the right number, and the request of a picture of her holding up three fingers for solid proof) all I got was evidence that it really was her and she was as serious as a heart attack. I very quickly decided that the body snatching alien theory was the soundest – I’d give them credit too; these body snatchers were outrageously convincing.

Most of the feeling of having the rug ripped out from underneath my ass came from a place of solitude that I’ve somewhat cocooned myself into over the last few years. Isolating myself away from my former core group of friends just…happened, really. It wasn’t like it took that much work. We were all on different paths, and we still are – just because we all avowed to be friends for life doesn’t mean that life isn’t going to have a few surprises up its sleeve. I’m not fourteen anymore, and I tried not to take too much offense when the numbers started dropping. Most, if not all of us have grown up substantially. It’s completely normal to grow apart and go our separate ways without being the wiser, it’s simply a part of life that occurs. And it didn’t bother me any either, until I’d catch a glimpse of the picture on my night table of myself, Jackie, Dayo, Alexander, and Amandla that I for some reason cannot bring myself to change out and get the overwhelming urge to call all of them at once or cry. I’d usually go with the third option, which was stuffing myself up underneath the covers and sleeping it off.

But now, morning has arrived and Jennifer’s got both hands on the curtains as she yanks them open to wake me up and almost blind me in the process. I’m slightly disoriented, trying my best to remember how in the hell I got to this point. Once upon a time, I had the hard reputation of being the most optimistic in the group – which is a hard lie, seeing as how for as long as I have known him, nothing has been able to sway Dayo of his belief that Tupac is still alive on an island somewhere – and yet here I am, triple-checking the truth value of a text from Jen because I’m simply finding it all that hard to believe.

I took Jen’s long, emoji-filled invitation and ran with it regardless, all the way past my frowning mother to JFK where I’m now waiting on a red-eye flight to Aspen, Colorado. Spending the holidays with Jen was something that didn’t even make the list of things that would ever possibly cross my mind, but I didn’t have anything else to do. It seemed like it’d be fun, much more so than trying to help carry the last-minute Christmas tree up the stairs in the high-rise apartment complex my mother lives in.

Airports are less than pleasant, especially late at night and when alone. I don’t like them much to begin with, but usually I have Madeline or Elina to keep me company – my mom being the preferred choice, as Madeline is on one of two wavelengths at an airport: talk to no one, or bitch at everyone. It’s just me this go ‘round, my only companion the steady flow of noise as surrounding gates are called to board, televisions playing the news, and people around me engage in actual conversations with one another. This is the last place on Earth I want to be, and my face conveys that plain as day.

I’m halfway towards a cat nap, the only plausible option as of what to do with myself before they call my flight to board, when my ears pick up the sound of one particular voice over all the rest.

“Excuse the hell out of me, I didn’t realize that I would be boarding Air Force One this evening!”

On instinct, I sit up a little straighter in this ridiculous chair that is designed to give its occupants a future of poor posture. There’s only one voice that I’ve ever heard in that strangled of a tone, and there’s only one person that would string such words together in the most inappropriate location possible. Spoiler alert: they belong to each other.

Turning around in my seat, I wish I could say that I’m surprised to see Jack Quaid huffing and puffing his way towards the same empty gate I’ve stationed myself at, but I’m not. Surprise is no longer an emotion I feel whenever I come into the vicinity of Jack Quaid.

“Honestly, you’ve been to enough airports in your measly lifetime, why are you acting as though the world has ended over TSA confiscating your bear repellent?” Another voice is added into the mix over the commotion, and the options of who could possibly be with Jack and discussing bear repellent like it’s the daily weather report quickly dwindle down to one. I ask myself if there will ever come a day when I don’t accidentally run into these people. “And why the hell did you have bear repellent in your bag to begin with?”

“We’re going to fucking Colorado, Jacqueline, why would I not pack bear repellent?”

“We’ll be in Colorado, not the middle of fucking nowhere!” she barks in retaliation. I don’t see how they haven’t drawn anyone else’s attention – they’re not exactly good at keeping things at a volume that is to themselves. Jack lets out a long, agitated groan, before puffing out his chest and his voice lifts an octave, all matter-of-fact.

“You just remember this when a bear comes along and you need me to save you.”

Judging by the look on Jackie’s face, she’s considering taking her suitcase and using it to run Jack over. “We are not going to be attacked by bears, and like you would ever be able to hold your own against a bear that wasn’t Winnie the Pooh!”

“I genuinely do not know why I bother spending any time with you,” Jack declares dramatically. The two of them go strolling right past me without giving me so much as a second glance – really feeling the love – when I decide to make my own grand entrance into their conversation.

“It’s because you two are lowkey lovers; you just don’t bother admitting it to anyone even though we’ve all known that you’ve had this little fling going on since the Catching Fire premiere.” Jackie’s head is the first to whip around, fast enough to break her neck and her eyes feral as they land on me. Jack drops his suitcase handle, it clattering onto the floor. It looks as though he may have suffered a minor heart attack from my little intrusion.

They’re burning holes in me as they gape, not a single word to be had between the two of them – which, really, is a feat – and I shrug. “What?” I ask, my lips already beginning to curl up into a smirk. “Did I get it wrong or something?”

It seems as though I have shorted the circuit in Jackie’s brain as she blinks at me in a rapid secession. “Yes, hi Isabelle, it’s so lovely to see you too!” I mimic her, standing up with my arms outstretched for a hug.

Jack seems to shake free of his dumbstruck state before Jackie does, claiming the hug meant for her as his own. “Are you sure you’re actually Isabelle?” he questions. “I mean, the whole evil genius bit is still true to character, but last time I checked, Isabelle was much scrawnier. Had real chicken-y legs and bony elbows.”

To prove a point, I ram one of my elbows into his chest. He winces, nodding. “Yep,” he mutters. “Still bony.”

I turn to face Jackie, holding my arms open once again for her. The look of shock has somewhat dissolved from her features as her eyes meet mine. One of my eyebrows quirks. “Going off on a honeymoon?” I tease.

Jackie’s voice is back from wherever it vanished off to for a few moments. “Nope, try Jen’s.” She folds into my hug at an angle, tucking herself underneath my arm. Those last few inches of my growth spurt, as well as Jackie’s barely-there sandals finally set me taller than her, even though it’s not a hard thing to do to start. Jackie’s always been the shortest out of us Hunger Games kids.

Jackie has also been the only one out of the bunch I’ve bothered to keep in touch with over the years. There was no trial or tribulation life could hurtle in the way of our friendship that could scratch the surface – she and I had become instant best friends meeting all those years ago and nothing really had an effect on that. She and I liked to think that we were platonic soulmates, and nothing as pesky as distance could dent that. Jack was sort of part of the package deal that came along with Jackie. Just like her mood swings, impromptu Harry Potter marathons, and week-long vegan stints, Jack was something that you got when you signed up for a friendship with Jackie. I saw him less than I saw Jackie, but much more than anyone else out of our little Hunger Games cult.

“Am I wrong to assume you’re here for that very reason as well?”

“Nope, because you’d be very correct.”

“Then I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that you got the exact same text message as us,” Jackie continues, glancing up at me.

“What, the one with perfect grammar and more emojis than we thought Jen knew how to use?”

“That’d be the one.”

Jack sidles up beside me, draping one of his arms around my shoulders. “Isabelle,” he begins, channeling his inner car salesperson. “You’d agree with me that because we’re going to be out in the wilderness for the next few days, it’s only sane that we arm ourselves with necessities such as bear repellent—"

“Give it a fucking rest already!”

After only just barely serving as the wall between Jack’s throat and Jackie’s claws, the two of them join me in my little corner of our flight’s gate. Not only has Jen apparently decided to play the ever so gracious host over the holidays by extending her vacation home to us, but she’s posted the three of us up with first class plane tickets. Here I’d thought it was just Jen trying to make up for the missed birthdays by at least letting me fly in style halfway across the country.

It’s easy to fall back into a routine of sorts with Jackie and Jack, like no time has passed at all. Jack’s telling me all about the alcoholic beverages I ought to try in February (I hate to crush even more of his dreams and tell him that I’ve spent my fair share of time in Europe over the last few years and for my nineteenth birthday, Madeline got me a fake ID as a present) and Jackie’s giving me the full synopsis of her musical, practically trying to sell the lead role to me. For a moment, I almost feel like I’m fifteen once again and time hasn’t passed me by at all. There’s a part of me that’s tempted to check my phone’s background and see if it’s reverted back to me on Dayo’s back with a giant sparkler held over his head from my birthday party.

“Can I ask you a question, Izzy?” Jack asks for permission, the arm that isn’t draped around Jackie’s shoulders lifting in mock arrest. “And you have to promise me that you won’t get offended or throw the knife in your underwear at my head when I do.”

I roll my eyes. “I haven’t thrown a knife in years, Jack,” I tell him. “And besides, TSA would have swiped it just like they did your precious bear repellent.”

Jack slouches a little, the sulking expression returning to his face. “Do you know how much that bear repellent cost?” he groans. From beside him, Jackie’s shooting me daggers for even bringing the subject back up.

“Just ask the question already, Quaid,” she prompts him.

“Right, yeah – okay, so why in the world did you start running for Nike? I love you and support you and all that other bullshit, but you are not the athlete type. You could barely walk on the hotel carpet barefoot without having a near emergency-room-worthy disaster.” He then reaches up to cover his face, most likely a protective gesture.

“I’m not gonna kill you, Jack, Jesus,” I bark. He slowly lowers his arm, still housing a great deal of hesitation. “Besides, you’re not the first person to ask me that, Madeline tried to declare me incompetent when I told her about the gig. One of my hands begins to mess with the ends of my hair absentmindedly. “It was just something different. Nothing wrong with getting outside of your comfort zone.”

“You know what’s outside of my comfort zone?” Jackie pipes back up. “Seeing Ludwig on the History channel. I didn’t even know he knew what history was, aside from that of his browser’s.”

“Ha, ha. Become a comedian, why don’t you?” A new voice enters our conversation, and as if right on cue, I can feel all the blood in my body turn to ice water.

Scratch that – I now feel like I’m fourteen again.

I turn around, and sure enough, there stands Alexander Ludwig. Or at least, who I think is Alexander. I haven’t seen him in person in nearly four years, only going by the guide that Instagram has given me, and even that was a recent development. Somewhere up above, I can hear God laughing at me, because this has to be the doing of his need for quality entertainment.

Alexander is somehow able to avert from the death stare Jackie’s giving him, his eyes finding me. “Hey, Isabelle,” he says, face softening ever so slightly.

From the seat across from me, I hear Jack give a strangled cough, one that sounds oddly similar to, “Just fuck already.” It’s followed by the sound of Jackie slapping Jack in the shoulder.

“Uh…hi?” I now know how the happy couple felt when I materialized out of thin air – at a complete loss for words. Alexander offers me a hopeful smile and still relatively unsure of what I’m supposed to do with myself, I stand up and go in for the hug. It’s awkward, and I’m sure Jackie is snickering behind my back as we attempt to figure our hug out. We both move in the same direction as we extend our arms, stopping almost halfway before we wordlessly try to determine who’s coming in from the left and who isn’t. If there was an award for it, this would win for the most awkward reunion hug ever, hands down.

It takes a second, but we get there – Alexander folds me up underneath his arms, both of them encircling around my shoulders as my hands slip around his waist. It’s been four years since I’ve so much as seen him in the flesh, so I’m sure this sort of hug is too far of a leap forward back into anything resembling the relationship we once had. Throwing caution to the wind just so happened to always be Alexander’s trademark. We stay like that for much too long, but help myself I cannot. I’ve already fallen down the rabbit hole of the familiar, might as well set up shop there.

“Good to see ya,” he mumbles as we pull away. Right back to the formalities, I suppose.

“Yeah, you too.”

Jackie is burning holes in me when I turn back around, tugging down on the hem of my shirt as I head back to my seat. Alexander has never really been Jackie’s favorite person, and I don’t think time and distance has made her heart grow any fonder.

“I suppose that you being on a flight that isn’t to Aspen is too much for me to wish for?” Jackie sighs as she quickly redirects her attention to Alexander, one of her eyebrows kinking in question.

“It’s nice to see you too, Jackie,” Alexander says, the beginnings of a smirk forming on his lips. “If I didn’t already know any better, I’d cross my fingers and hope my seat was next to you.” He then shifts his gaze to Jack, winking.

Both of Jackie’s hands fly out of her lap in exasperation. “How do you people know about this?!”

My reply is simultaneous with Alexander’s.

“You two are about as subtle as a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade.”

“Because I have eyes.”

She frowns. “Whatever.”

Alexander sets his backpack down in an empty seat and sits down in the one next to it, which happens to conveniently be right next to mine. He’s glancing right in my lap, and I’m about to beat Jackie to the punch of telling him to fuck off before I realize what he’s looking at. “6A,” he notes, referring to the seat number on the boarding pass that I’ve had sitting underneath my leg – not the most responsible way to keep up with it, but I really hadn’t planned on moving from this chair unless it was to board the plane itself. “I think we’re sitting next to each other.”

For emphasis, he holds up his own boarding pass for me to see. Sure enough, his seat number is the one right next to mine. Even across the way, I can hear Jackie growl under her breath, and Jack moves his arm from around her shoulder to rest on her thigh. I can’t fight my grin – not because of the thought that I get to spend the next few hours next to Alexander, but at how fucking adorable Jack and Jackie are. The only thing more adorable than that, perhaps, is how oblivious they’ve been towards how oblivious they think we are.

Yep, my mind flashes. Welcome back to 2013.

…

I don’t know why we decide to bestow the job of chauffer from the airport to Jen’s onto Jack, seeing as how Jackie and I concluded that Jack only ever got his driver’s license by bribing the DMV with signed headshots of his father’s, but we do it. The three of us are much too lazy to be behind the wheel on foreign terrain, and Jack’s never one to turn down a challenge. All Alexander has to do is volunteer to drive since he’s used to driving in the wintry weather and Jack all but pushes him out of the way. Reverse psychology is real.

It’s late when we land, almost the same time now as it was when our plane took off from JFK. Jackie fortunately gives up her shotgun seat to Alexander, the two of us sprawling out in the backseat as we try to get in a few hours of sleep. Jen might have gotten us first class seats on the plane, but she certainly didn’t take note of where the hell the plane was going to be landing in regards to her location.

The plane landed at Denver International, roughly three hours from Jen’s place in Aspen and a small detail that apparently Jack didn’t take into account until our captain was announcing our arrival. Along with his fellow wolf pack buddy Dayo, Jack is an avid conspiracy theorist in the most aggravating way – he doesn’t believe in any of the plausible conspiracies, only the off-the-wall ones. One of those conspiracies that he does opt to buy in on just so happens to be the one about the Denver airport being the gateway to hell.

As we were trekking off the plane, half-dead, Jack was the only one who seemed apprehensive about disembarking. In fact, I had to ram him along using my suitcase, threatening to run over his ankles if he didn’t pick up the pace.

“What’s your deal?” Jackie grumbled sleepily, tugging him along through the terminals only for him to put up quite the deal of resistance as they moved along.

“Hell, Jackie, we’re in hell,” Jack hissed.

Jackie stopped in her tracks, turning around to give him a few love pats to the face. “Are you okay? Did you smuggle more fucking bear repellent onto the plane and accidentally detonate it on yourself?”

The way Jack looked at her, one would have assumed he thought she had three heads. “No!” he demanded, his voice lowering as he pulled me, Jackie, and Alexander closer to him as though we were about to begin trading government secrets. “Look, you cannot tell me that this is not the sketchiest place you’ve ever been in your life.”

“Untrue,” Jackie dismissed almost immediately. “I grew up in a neighborhood of second-rate politicians.”

Jack had glared at her, before turning to look at me and Alexander for some sort of backup. Alexander merely shrugged. “Don’t look at me dude, I’ve been to the red-light district four times.”

“Yeah, of course you have,” Jack muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes. “Have none of you seen pictures of this airport? Been here before? This is literally the entrance to hell – for Christ’s sake, there’s a giant fucking Satanic horse guarding this place like it’s Lucifer’s lapdog!”

“Pretty sure Isabelle and I flew through here for the mall tour stop in Aurora, and we weren’t chased through the concourses by Beelzebub and his horde of demon friends,” Jackie pointed out dryly.

“Jackie, there are goddamn Nazis with rainbows behind them on the murals here, nothing about that strikes you as terrifying?”

“Racism is alive in America, you know.”

“If we’re going to have a riveting discussion on what modern airport art means, can we at least go to Starbucks first?” Alexander asked, raising his hand.

Both Jackie and Jack looked at him, shooting him a resounding, “No!” before going right back to their debate as to whether or not we were standing at the flaming gates. It was at that point that I had to intervene, wedging between them and pulling Jackie away from the conversation and towards the baggage claim. Jack, of course, wasn’t done with his running commentary about how he was convinced Satan was going to pop out from behind a kiosk at any second, mumbling under his breath the whole way through the airport.

“You’ll agree with me and my being right on this,” he avowed as we made our way to our rental car, after swearing that someone was breathing down his neck despite bringing up the rear.

“Yeah, when hell freezes over,” Jackie retorted.

“Well, the weather app says the temperature outside is below freezing, so we’re not too far off.”

I’m not too entirely worried about Jack falling asleep behind the wheel, since his close brush with hell and getting a good look at Blucifer shook him wide awake.

All four of us are running on fumes by the time we make it to Jen’s place. Jackie and I have our noses pressed to the glass of our opposite windows, watching as the snow falls down on the four cars out in the driveway. Snow is no longer uncommon now that I’ve been living in New York City for the last few years, but out here it isn’t interfered with by large construction sites and millions of people. It’s pure, untouched, lazily floating down from the sky and covering the ground in a pristine white blanket.

“God, has she invited us to her family’s Christmas?” Alexander asks quietly. “I didn’t know Jen knew this many people.”

“Oh yeah,” Jackie snorts. “Because being an Oscar winner means you lead a lonely, lonely life.”

Swiveling around in his seat, he turns around and feigns cheerfulness as he smiles at Jackie. “You haven’t changed a bit, Emerson.”

“Right back at ‘ya, Ludwig.”

“Alright,” Jack announces as the engine stops running. “I’m not running the risk of getting trapped in by any other Lawrences in case we need to run for the hills, so the curb it is.”

Jackie leans forward, snaking her upper body around the edge of the driver’s seat to look at Jack. “You know how to overnight park?” she asks cheekily, and I have to turn the rising laugh in my throat into a strangled sort of cough.

“Well, duh,” Jack replies, pulling the keys out of the ignition. “Don’t you have to know how to do that in order to pass your driver’s test?”

“You do.” Jackie falls back in her seat, winking at me as she does.

While I’m almost positive that unloading our luggage would have been a struggle regardless of the weather around us, the snow and steadily picking up wind makes things that much more complicated. Jackie’s doing her best to balance her bags on her back so she doesn’t have to stick them in the snow, which is already up to her ankles, but Jackie isn’t Supergirl – she doesn’t have super strength, and her kryptonite happens to be her inability to pack lightly. Jack and Alexander are currently debating over whose generic black suitcase belongs to whom, preventing me from reaching my last duffel bag and going inside where there’s heat.

I’m about to tell them to either move out of the way or help the short person out, when a new voice rings out over all of us.

“Hey guys!”

Peering around the edge of our car, I see Jen standing on the porch wrapped up in a blanket that looks incredibly toasty, smile stretching from ear to ear at the sight of us. She must be really deprived of quality company.

Taking the opportunity of Jack and Alexander being temporarily distracted from the luggage, I dart back around and all but dive into the trunk to get my last duffel bag. It accidentally hits Jack in the gut as I scramble back out, maneuvering around them to make a break for the stairs up to Jen’s porch.

“Damn, Isabelle!”

“It’s cold and I have thin blood, sue me!” I yell over my shoulder.

Jack is happy to yell right back, “You’re a fake New Yorker!”

Jackie is right on my heels as we climb up the stairs to greet an open-armed Jen. The house is massive, as to be expected, and perhaps it’s the sleep-deprived part of me controlling my brain, but I have never been more thankful for Jen and her vast net-worth, being able to afford a vacation home where even with many guests I will still have a large probability of getting my own bed. I barrel right into Jen, mostly because she’s warm and everything else outside is not.

“Aw, Belly,” she croons playfully. “Didja really miss me that much?”

“You have body heat,” I inform her, wrapping my arms tighter around her.

Jen laughs, prying me off of her and away from the thick blanket that I’d been tucked underneath for a few seconds. “So now I fall second to my temperature?” she asks as she gives Jackie a hug, and I simply shrug.

“Hey, next time invite us to the Caribbean.”

“I’ll put it on the list.” Her eyes avert away from me, most likely landing on the boys that are still trudging their way up the stairs. “You guys are late, I thought your flight landed earlier than this?”

“Yeah, you shipped us right through Satan’s abode, which happens to be three hours from here,” Jack informs her. Jackie, Alexander and I all roll our eyes. “And I’m pretty sure the snow has picked up ever since Blucifer and I locked eyes, which I’m sure is some sort of sign.”

“Late?” Alexander asks before Jack can continue his Denver spiel. Jen nods, gesturing towards the front door.

“C’mon in.”

Everything is all warm and glowing inside, the smell of sandalwood and vanilla embracing me in a comforting hug. We walk right in to what I’m guessing is the living room, a large sectional and a few lounge chairs littered around a crackling fireplace, the TV overhead playing A Charlie Brown Christmas on mute.

Jen wiggles her way up to the front of our lineup, pointing towards the spiral staircase behind the fireplace. “You guys are gonna be in the guest rooms upstairs if that’s okay,” she begins, tugging her blanket around her neck tighter like it’s a cape. “It better be okay, seeing as how I had to ward the hellions away from them.”

“Does this place have an elevator?” Jack asks. “Because my soul has already been compromised once today, I’m too tired to climb up some stairs.”

Jackie’s eyebrows furrow together, still hung up on Jen’s words. “Wait, what do you mean by hellions?”

A shadow falls over Jen’s face almost instantly, quickly diverting any and all eye contact with us. “Well,” she starts, her voice rising an octave. My mind is racing much faster than she can speak. Four other cars out in the driveway, the use of the word hellions, the convenient fact that I just so happened to bump into Jackie, Jack, and Alexander at the airport, all of whom had the same destination as me…

“Wait,” I say slowly as the realization starts to crash over me, and already Jen is beginning to cower into the back of her couch. “You don’t mean—"

“Oh hell to the nah.”

The one and only Dayo Okeniyi comes strolling in from god only knows where – probably the kitchen, seeing as how he has an entire pie in one hand and a fork in the other – stopping dead in his tracks the minute he sees us. Or, rather, Alexander.

“What the hell?” Alexander says, equally as stunned.

Jackie, like myself, seems to have put all the pieces together quickly. “Jen,” she utters out. “Have you done what I think you’ve done?”

“Maybe?” she squeaks.

Right on cue, a leggy blonde comes up behind Dayo. “Dayo, are you talking to yourself again, I thought—” Leven’s voice falls off the deep end the second she lays eyes on the five of us, her face falling. “Oh.”

“Oh is right,” Dayo grumbles.

“What is this, the Hunger Games reunion?” Jackie asks, her eyes still on a hoping-to-disappear Jen.

Ever the wise one, Alexander takes it upon himself to answer that question. “I mean, we’re missing a few people, Josh and ‘Mandla aren’t—”

Alexander, apparently, has spoken too soon, because as soon as the names slip off his lips, out emerge Josh, Amandla, and Willow from the kitchen. The three of them may as well be mythical creatures strolling past the way my eyes bug out of my head. It’s been so long since I’ve heard from any of them to the point I began referring to them in the past tense, like they’ve gone on to greener pastures or some shit.

Josh seems to be the only person who doesn’t seem to be bothered in the slightest by our arrival. He moves past a frozen Amandla and Willow, making his way to one of the recliners in the living room. Something tells me that a) the Charlie Brown Christmas was his idea, and b) he was absolutely in on whatever this is. “Hey Belle, Xander, happy couple!” he greets to each of us individually, a warm smile on his face.

“Alright Liam, come on out!” Jack calls mockingly, in reference to the only person missing from this shebang aside from Gary Ross himself.

Jen’s face falls a little. “Oh no, Liam’s not here,” she confirms as she shakes her head. “He’s in Australia.”

“Well he’s about the only one,” Jackie mumbles.

“Okay, seriously Jen,” Leven pipes up. “What is this?”

“What is what?”

“This,” Dayo repeats, motioning his fork in a circle.

“What?” Jen cries out, holding her arms up as she does her best to feign innocence we all know she doesn’t have in this situation. “I can’t want to have a little holiday get together with old friends, all of whom just so happen to be you guys?”

If looks could kill, Dayo would have Alexander’s blood on his hands and this get together would become a burial service. I never did get the full story as to how the great wolf pack fell apart the way it did, but just going out on a limb, my guess is that it wasn’t pretty and left a little bit of bad blood. Their demise, I think, was the other reason aside from life itself that lead all of us to going our own ways – no one wants to break up a fight between men large enough to have their own area code, and most of us wouldn’t have been able to do so just based on physical means alone. “Yeah, no; sorry, Jenny,” Dayo quickly apologizes, breaking his steely glare off of Alexander for only a split second.

“I mean, no offense to you guys, but isn’t this a bit…y’know, outdated?” Leven says, gesturing around the group as she leans up against the wall. “It’s been years since we all hung out together.”

“Yes, which means we’re overdue,” Jen tries to persuade us, her selling smile not very convincing. “No time like the present to remedy that, right?”

My arms fold over my chest. “Why wouldn’t you just tell us the truth, that this is what our ‘holiday extravaganza’ was gonna be?”

“Hey, I didn’t lie to you guys,” Jen protests, and Jackie is quick to counter that.

“You just left out the whole truth.”

We’re all turning on Jen at a rate she didn’t foresee and doesn’t appreciate, because her fuse is beginning to shorten on us. “Look,” she huffs. “I’m sorry I lied by omission, or whatever; I knew if I told you guys that I was inviting the whole gang, I wouldn’t have even gotten some of you to reply to my text. Hell, some of you didn’t anyways.” Her eyes cut over to Alexander, who takes a step behind me. I don’t know what he’s expecting, if I’m going to service as a shield or what. Our hug at the airport and the several-hour conversation we’d wound up in the air might have been nice, but I’m not standing in the line of fire for him.

“Jen, I get the sentiment of wanting to do this…kinda, I guess,” Jackie says, unable to sell even herself on what she’s saying. “But Leven’s right. We haven’t all hung out together in years, you ever think that maybe that was for a reason?”

Jen’s face quickly falls into a deadpan. “I don’t know why all of you are suddenly bitching, you didn’t complain any when I flew you out first class and let you eat my whole fucking chocolate pie.” From behind her, Dayo guiltily lowers the fork from his mouth. “And to be fair, Jackie, you had the chance to make a run for it the minute you realized Alexander was on the same flight as you, but you didn’t.”

“I mean, I certainly thought about it—”

“Really?!”

“Okay, can we just sort this mess out in the morning? I have had to quite literally go through hell this evening,” Jack whines, and Jackie and I both groan. I’m suddenly missing his griping about the bear repellent right about now, and I’d bet serious money Jackie feels the same. “We just all go to sleep for now, and if anyone wants to bow out, they can do it in the morning.”

Never in my life have we all been on the same page as Jack Quaid, and on the same page as a fairly decent idea that came from him at that. Leven nods, Dayo gives him a three-fingered salute before going right back into the pie, and if my eyes aren’t deceiving me, I think Jackie’s already looking for flights back home for three people – either she and Jack have packed a kid in that suitcase, or they’re sweeping me under their wing and providing me with my get out of jail free card.

Jen doesn’t seem too pleased with this, and I can tell she’s about to argue it. Before she even opens her mouth, a shrill alarm goes off without any warning. It scares all of us but really gets me (what can I say, the skittishness never went away) and causes me to jump nearly ten feet in the air. I stumble back against Alexander, who seems more than pleased to catch and steady me. Jackie is less than thrilled by this, her eyes making Alexander’s hands on my shoulders even hotter than before as she tries to set them ablaze.

“What the fuck was that?” Dayo spits, hand resting over his heart as he tries to regulate its beat back to normal.

“Is that your way of punishing us for not liking this little plan of yours?”

“No, it’s my phone,” Jen replies, rolling her eyes. “Although if it’s working, then yes.” She pulls her phone out from her pocket and her eyes quickly begin flitting over the screen. The expression on her face changes as she reads, and already I can tell something is wrong by the time she lifts her head. “Um, so, the whole leaving here tomorrow morning thing you guys have come up with might not be happening.”

“Why not?” Dayo asks. “Are you going to hold us hostage?”

Jen holds up her phone as an explanation. “That was my dear friend the National Weather Service. We’re currently under a winter storm warning for…heavy snow and blowing snow,” she reads off, before looking back up at the rest of us.

“So a blizzard?” Alexander repeats.

“Near blizzard,” Jen corrects. Alexander looks at her, befuddled.

“It’s the same thing as a blizzard, why not just…call it what it is?”

“Because it’s not!”

“Okay,” Leven sings disarmingly. “We can discuss the National Weather Service’s classification criteria later, let’s just go back to the real issue for a second. Are you saying that we’re stuck here?”

Jen nods. “Says that this is in effect until tomorrow night, maybe later—"

“Tomorrow night? Maybe later?!” Jackie splutters.

“Yes, your hearing is as on point as ever, Jackie. There’s no telling how much more snow it’s gonna bring our way.” I can tell that Jen is trying her best not to look too overly pleased at this development fate has seemed to deliver her, while everyone else is in their varying states of shocked, irritated, or flat out tired – I happen fall into the third category, along with Amandla, who is about two steps away from knocking out in Willow’s lap and not moving until morning.

Josh leans back a little farther in the recliner, both of his hands folded behind his head. “Well, let’s just hope that we don’t get trapped in here or something. That sure would suck.” Everyone immediately turns from wherever they’re standing in the room to glower at him.

Some things just don’t ever change, I guess.

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dndfuckhouse · 4 years

Text

session 16 - a cultist’s work is never done

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> 🎵 DND Ambience - Evil Temple / Michael Ghelfi

Picking up where they left off the group finish chatting wistfully about their hometowns and the various methods of procreation known to them and look towards the now unlocked metal door at the end of the chamber.

Before the party shuffle through Keva attempts to check it for traps, finding nothing the group push it open and peer down a corridor behind it. Staring down they see a similarly cobbled hallway, though it seems to curve at a point obscuring their vision further, otherwise it looks clear as any they’ve walked so far, bracketed by magic torchlight on its walls.

Han chucks a stone down to check for anything fishy...it seems to roll down the hallway with ease. The group then debate if they should send someone ahead first to stealth and check it out. Finn offers again to float down in his mist form.

Han: should we have one person stealth forward? the rest a couple of feet behind? Finn: if you're that paranoid i can go ahead in my mist form again. Rokka: that sounds like a good plan han! Psalm: that's a good idea finn Finn: 2 good ideas what will the party do

Finn: chip i do my thing Cimmorro: FINN VAPE? Han: finn juul WHERES MY JUUUUUUUUUUUUL Cimmorro: WHATS A JUL? are u flammable, watch as he burns over a torch or something

Psalm: idk that much about vaping Plum: sarita wtf do you go to college

Finn transforms into his mist form and floats down the hallway, it winds and turns giving him the feeling that he’s slowly traversing downward, the corridor seeming to widen in size. After some time he comes across what looks like the opening to another chamber, a set of black metal double doors in front of him. Not spotting anything suspicious on his float down he floats back towards the party.

After about 10 minutes time pass, the group get worried and decide to follow ahead, bumping into the cloud of finn on his float back, he quickly transforms back into his regular form.

Keva: she flinches and makes that paul rudd face when she remembers its finn Psalm: psalm has nothing to say about running into the finn cloud Plum: i wonder if plum isn't tall enough to bump into it Rokka: rokka gasp for air before holding his breath so he doesn't breathe in finn which he fails to

Finn: >finn looks a bit confused as to why theyre all here "needless to say the path is safe but you're all aware of that by now. a bit reckless for being so paranoid if i may say so." Rokka: just worried about you finn Finn: did that much time pass? Rokka: felt like it Psalm: not that we didn't just fight clones of ourselves after being a bit reckless or anything Finn: "i see. in that case i apologise." >contemplative sprite

The party move to inspect the large set of double doors, they seem to have a ornate design to them, looking at them they spy the shape of horns and talons melded across it, the door doesn't appear to be locked either. Eyeballing the design psalm picks up that it definitely appears infernal in nature at the very least, the design could be reminiscent of devils of some sort, though he cant really place anything specific.

Deeming the door un-trapped the group ready themselves as Psalm uses mage hand to open one of the doors. It creaks a little bit but nothing else seems to happen, looking down the party see the corridor continue beyond it, opening into what looks like a very large chamber. Han briefly throws a stone again to test the corridor, no reaction again.

Rokka: "COOL A CHAMBER" rokka waltz in Han: both han and i age 20 years Finn: finn just. constantly calculating whether they're dumb or not Plum: i hope theres no single lich in here looking for a partner

Han: psalm: WOW KINDA DARK IN HERE ! Psalm: no please

Finn: well since han threw the rock and it was fine i wanna walk, wait should we wait for pokemon? Finn: I MEAN. POKI Cimmorro: .

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> 🎵 Maternal Heart / Silent Hill 3 OST.

The party choose to walk through the door, as they walk down the small corridor they spy small ...what look like vents close to the ground. Taking note of them they walk further to the precipice of the corridor where it opens into the larger chamber. As they get closer they see what looks like a large pool in the centre, filled with a red liquid and surrounded by red runes, letters and symbols on the floor.

In front of it stands a staircase that leads up to a higher platform shaped like a circle over the pool, it seems to be bound with a tight thick rope. Staring the group notice that it seems to lead up to the top of a tall black pillar in the centre of the pool, pointed at its tip and faintly stained with red, it's quite the structure.

Looking about the rest of the chamber they see thick black and red ornate curtains adorning the walls and a set of columns in front of the pool. They also see at the end of the room, three short corridors behind the pool with a large black ornate door at the end of each of them, seemingly also connected to the red circles around the pool.

To the left and right look like sets of staircases, both leading upwards somewhere, listening close the party can hear what seems to be some sort of whispers or chanting.

Cimmorro: cimm's just gonna "SOME PEOPLE HAVE BEEN BUSY HERE HUH!" and walk over to try and read shit Psalm: can i try reading too Keva: keva stays at the edge of the room lmao she is Skeeved Plum: so is plum “y’all are just walking in??” Rokka: i also stay back Han: han also stays back with keva, esp after seeing the pool lol Finn: i wanna check if its blood for real

Psalm: maybe we should've collected the blood from the clones, just to see if it's the same substance although i'm not sure how that'd help, i'm honestly just a bit curious Cimmorro: we'll find out if it's from the same pool if something comes out to grab the both of us. would be amusing Rokka: that sounds terrifying Psalm: sounds pretty amusing to me Cimmorro: cimm smiles at psalm "yeah atta boy that's the spirit" Psalm: *grins* Plum: i’d rather not have to deal with another one of you again Psalm: i dont blame you Finn: finn kind of just goes [raised eyebrow] to himself overhearing cimm

Finn: NO JUST A LITTLE LICK. like connor Jez: who Finn: dont worry about it jez Han: dont worry bro its just a nightmare

Plum: finn hasn’t been in a bite one of us or die situation yet where’s the romance anymore get it together guys Guest Appearance By Celebrity Aqua: Cmon finn drink the rancid bog blood

Cimmorro: finn, is your field trip going fun so far mate Finn: if this is your idea of a fun field trip i really don't want to go on one with you 🙄 Cimmorro: there goes my ideas for a first date then Finn: "d-date?" finn tries to brush it off quickly though

The party move to investigate the chamber, slowly the more reluctant ones walk in and peer about as well after watching the others waltz inside.

Psalm and Cimmorro inspect the arcane writing and runes, between the two of them staring at the red on the floor they discern the writing to be magic circles of some sort, enchanted by something in runes they can't quite comprehend, they do recognise bits of infernal throughout however. They also read what they assume to be a name of some sorts, a ‘Mephistopheles’

The lines seem to give some sort of power to the pool and the three doors at the end of the hallway, though they aren't sure what exactly. They get the feeling they’re part of some ritual similar to the last they encountered, involving the shedding of blood on top of the pillar.

Han walks in and cranes her hear to discern where the sound of chanting is coming from. She hears it coming from the left staircase, but it feels like its kind of echoing around the whole chamber anyway. Rokka joins her in using his canine hearing, in combination with the chanting he hears the faint sounds of a conversation also coming from the left. Additionally, behind him back where the party came he also hears the sounds of faint talking coming from one of the vents, the one on the right wall in the corridor

Rokka: rokka's ears perk at hearing sounds of people talking and hurries back to tell the others in a semi-whisper tone "guys! guys! there are people here! in the vents! and right corridorrrrrrr" Psalm: does the chanting sound like anything to you?

Finn and Plum walk in and eyeball the pool together, staring at it the liquid seems viscous enough to be blood. Finn moves to dip his finger and takes a taste, he quickly detects the blood of more than one person, it seems to have been collecting here for a while. In his mind Finn is briefly tempted to taste some more, though he also notes that it tastes a little tingly on his tongue, a bit unusual

Finn: "what i can tell you two is that this is fresh blood. of multiple people." finn seems to be unable to tear his eyes away for a good minute, i choose not to share the unusual taste tidbit. Plum: "easy there soldier" and i hit finn's leg Finn: >finn snaps out of it and looks at plum apologetically

Looking at the pillar the two also notice stains on the sides, seems like the blood drips down from the top into the pool

Keva moves to take a few cautious steps up the staircase on the left side of the chamber, from this angle she can see that it opens up to what looks like another corridor, though cant make out much else.

Han takes the moment to cast detect portal, quickly she gets a ping from each of the three ornate doors, at the same time Psalm casts Comprehend Languages on himself to see if he can more directly read the runes as well as decipher the chanting.

Han: everyone shut up, those doors are portals to somewhere Plum: uhhh.... how do we figure out where they lead Han: “no way other then activating them and walking through” han is uncomfortable here lol

Finn: i watch psalm curiously Psalm: mans is just touching the floor Finn: finn: that man sure is touching the floor. crazy. Psalm: i 'll tell you what they're saying in a second Finn: i nod @ psalm and wait, oh wait i guess he wouldnt know if im nodding so ill just say Okay Psalm: hwuhahwa

Psalm: should draw psalm and finn doing each other's nails since they both definitely wear nail polish

Now able to comprehend the chanting, Psalm notes that it seems to be in some coded language, he makes out certain sentences along the lines of "beloved may our lord be, seeing all within his purview" he’s a bit far from the corridor so its hard to hear specifics. The runes on the ground now that he can read them look like some sort of prayers relating again to mephisto directly, but also mention a benefactor, bringing up in scripture some sort of all-encompassing voice.

Psalm: i think we have an old fashioned blood ritual summoning on our hands

Keva moves to quietly make her way further up the staircase in the meantime, as she does the sound of soft chatter becomes slightly louder combined with the prayer which sounds a bit father away. Slowly she comes out to a cobble corridor, peering to her right she spots a shut wooden door, locked with a silver latch. To her left the corridor goes on, and near the middle of it she sees a group of 3 people, donning red robes and hoods, though two of them seem to be more ornately decorated than the other.

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> 🎵 Null Moon / Silent Hill 2 OST.

As she looks she notices that they appear to be discussing something, she also notices that the corridor seems to be aligned with jail cells perhaps? though its hard to see into them from this angle, making out only dark sack shapes. She cranes he ear to try and listen in on the conversation,

???: you hear the tiefling muttering something to the one not as elaborately dressed as him “...ou need to be more careful with the brood. Emruz was so very upset one of them had escaped, though now our lord says it was all apart of his design. Sometimes I wonder why she stands as second, she never trusts enough in fate. Of course it was all as planned, his grace would never make a mistake ...” he turns his head to the drow standing beside him “oh please Ida you must discipline the acolyte too, i know you dont like to speak but i'm not good at …” he seems to trail off Ida: the drow tilts her head in his direction, her eyes staying shut. ???: “Oh grace, nevermind…” he turns back to the other hooded figure. “For now you’ll stay at your post until Emruz makes a decision...she is leading the prayer right now for our grace, it shall be decided afterwards, understood?” the hooded figure nod, while the tiefling seems to sigh in response “ahh...come Ida i need to check the sigils within the heating dens…” Ida: The drow nods in response

Keva watches two then walk of to the right out of her vision, listening she hears the sound of a door shut and close as the other hooded figure walks to the left, followed by the sound of a chair getting dragged across the ground and a thump. Once again silence returns to the halls, aside from the faint sound of chanting from down the corridor. She quickly slips back down the staircase and informs the group of what she saw.

Psalm: heating dens? what kinda kinky ass cult Plum: onsen

Rokka moves up the right staircase to scout it out as well, similarly to how Keva did towards the left, he clambers up quietly to poke his head around. In the meanwhile the party thinks on how they ought to proceed.

Rokka: whats the worst that could happen? rokka dies? Finn: HGBDFUNDFOMDFG

Psalm: i'm not sure how to proceed if i'm being honest Plum: neither am i, im wondering what sigils and heating dens are, like if more people are about to die while we're here

Keva: any way to figure out where the portals go? Plum: i dont think so since everything here's in code Han: “..theyre probably how sammy ended up out on the street” hans still staying back and just. her eyes keep coming back to the pool of blood

Psalm takes a moment to think over the name ‘Mephistopheles’ and what he knows about it, he recalls now that its the name of one of the archdevils that presides over the nine hells. He’s a being said to be thoroughly wicked and cunning but all the same unstable, bards singing of his unchecked temper. It unnerves him to see his name invoked in a place like this.

Finn moves to walk up the stairway in the middle of the pool to investigate it further, looking now he can tell the ropes tied around the circular slab form the letterheads symbol. Standing at the top of the stairs he also notes that he is within easy distance of the pillar in the middle, he walks back down after taking his look.

Psalm: oh right i relate that new information about Mephistopheles as well just to set the mood Keva: great

Han follows suit in continuing to poke around, she turns back to the corridor they came from and looking near the ground she eyeballs the holes in the walls, they appear to be small vents of some sort. They look big enough for someone to crawl through but only someone of plum’s stature or smaller, through the right one she hears a very faint conversation ebb out.

Moving to crouch down she tries to stick her ear in and tries to make out the conversation, though all she can hear faintly is the sound of one voice speaking. Briefly she hears"...thus you know just precisely where to strike..." before it becomes mumbles to her ears again.

Rokka reaching the top of the staircase quietly looks about, directly to his left he sees a figure dressed in a red hood and garb, black gloves and shorts underneath. They seem to be standing guard near a wooden door, seemingly unlocked, hands folded behind them. To his right the corridor continues down for a ways before opening out to what looks like a small chamber, halfway down its length he see two more red cloaked figures speaking in whispers, if he squints he can see what look like jail cells lining the corridor, similar to Keva’s corridor, hard to tell from his angle.

Rokka: rokka hurries back to the others and alerts whoever is closest to him about what he saw "guyyyyyyyyssssssssss" Cimmorro: rokka u good Rokka: there are people hereeeeeeeee i saw themmmmmmm Cimmorro: it looks like keva saw some others as well Han: rokka be like 😨

Psalm: i think our best options are to probably not fiddle with the inter-planar doors for now and pick one of the staircases Plum: agreed Psalm: we should also potentially destroy this altar, but maybe on the way out provided things go well

Psalm: @ han "are you coming? we've investigated the entire room, nothing spooky here to get you" Han: hans just like uuuughghh and catches up

Cimmorro: i was gonna say this looked like we're on a road trip and han is taking a group pic for us

Han: ;LKHAS;LKHFASDF shes actually taking a selfie of herself

The group decide to head up the left staircase after discussing the number of guards they saw. They devise a plan to roll some ball bearings to distract the one they assume is still somewhere in left corridor, before quickly taking him out at a range silently.

Cimmorro: you guys want him to come over here? what if something comes out of that pool Finn: cimmorro, what makes you so sure someone will come out of the pool? Cimmorro: it's ridden with magic bro Finn: the blood did have a ... unique taste. it was good, but there was something unusual to it. i'm not sure if you can make anything of that. Cimmorro: HGUHFDBKJVHB cimm just standing there like "you said unusual, that's even more suspect??IF YOU ASK ME??" Psalm: i'm pretty sure if something was supposed to come out of the pool it would've come out by now Rokka: i would like to have nothing come out of there

Cimmorro: lure the guy out and knock him out then? Psalm: just whisper "such a shame Mephistopheles caught ligma" into the vent and bait him out vaporising him instantly Cimmorro: BRO

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> 🎵 A Stray Child / Silent Hill 3 OST.

As the group discuss their plan to take out the guard Finn attempts to think on taste of the blood again. It seems more than likely that the blood is enchanted in some way by the circle around it, though it doesn’t strike him that the purpose of it is for summoning, it would have most likely had a much more rancid taste if connected to something so directly. The pool is more than likely containing the blood of many for a purpose, effecting the recipients in some way, beyond that he isn’t sure what.

Rokka: DAMN AND WE WERE ABOUT TO OFFER PLUM TO SPILL THEIR BLOOD THERE? Finn: maybe i shouldn't drink the magic blood Psalm: just take a sip Cimmorro: finn become rat poison checker

The group move to stealth their way up the left staircase, Psalm, Rokka and Plum find difficulty in keeping quieter than the others however. The others manage to cover for them however.

Finn: CAN WE COVER FOR OUR CLOWNS Psalm: CAUSE TROUBLE BY ACCIDENT GANG Plum: https://youtu.be/duPJqfKiA78

Psalm: HE CAN'T COMMUNICATE IF HES DEAD, what if it's theyord's favourite mook and he just wants to check up on him and then he's just dead, our entire operation is screwed

Keva rolls the ball bearing down the corridor, after a beat the group hear the sound of wood grinding on the floor and a few footsteps as the hooded figure steps out towards the sound, bending over to stare at it on the ground.

Quickly psalm and keva step out of the stairway, flinging a throwing knife and a blast directly at the hooded figure, the knife swiftly lodges itself in his neck and the blast seems to suck the rest of the life out him, taking him out quickly. The group slowly move now to investigate the corridor, Han staying at the top of the stairs to keep an eye on the chamber behind them.

Psalm: han making sure we don't die

Walking down they now see a series of cells lining the walls, piled with large sacks, a few laying empty. Some of the sacks have the faint colour of blood seeped through, giving the group a bad feeling about what could possibly be inside of them, seems most of the cells are locked.

Plum: they mumbles to themselves "give me a fucking break..."

Halfway through the corridor they turn the corner and see what looks to be a guard post near the jail cells, a shabby wooden desk and a series of lock boxes on top of it. Seems to house the keys to the nearby cells, to the right they also notice another branch off, a wooden door at the end. They assume this is where the tiefling and the drow walked off towards earlier.

Keva moves to check out the body of the guard, all she finds on him are a dagger strapped this thigh and a red letterheads token in his pocket, nothing much else, she pockets the token. The group then discuss how to hide the body so its not left on the ground in the open.

Finn: we could put him in one of the bags as to not arouse suspicion but its certainly grotesque. Psalm: thats a pretty good idea, cover our tracks 🤔 Han: that criminal background huh

As they discuss this Finn moves to put his ear towards the locked door at the top of the corridor, pressing his ear close to the door he doesn't hear anything other than silence from inside. In the meantime Plum and Keva nab the keys to the jail cells from the guards desk, moving to unlock the one closest to them, Cimmorro wanders over to assist.

The three work on untying the ropes and opening the bags inside. Cimmorro moves to inspect one of the corpses on how long its been decomposing but is struck by how close the abhorrent smell is, completely distracting him. Finn walks over and its also disgusted, Rokka moves down to keep watch on the door that the drow and tiefling walked through earlier in tandem with Finn.

Looking through the bags Plum attempts to identify the bodies within, their bag specifically appears to house a human male with dark brown hair, keva's bag seems to contain an elven woman, neither of them recognise the victims at all. The three quickly look through the cells for a bag with enough space to shove the guard inside, Plum takes quick notes on the features of the people they find as they go along, soon they find one and are able to successfully shove the guard inside.

As they go about this Psalm continues walking further down the corridor to the end where it opens into another small chamber, it seems filled with storage supplies and large cages, for what purpose hes isn’t sure he’d like to imagine, as he looks about he sees the letterheads symbol scrawled into the wall as well.

At the far end of the chamber is a set of double doors, made of black metal, it seems this is where the chanting is coming from as he hears the sounds of numerous voices speaking together in he assumes are prayers. To the right he also see more stairs leading upwards to what looks to be another corridor, though he cant fully tell from below.

He moves to listen to the voices coming from the double doors hearing similar hymns to what was being chanted earlier, but he also hears another voice higher pitched speaking above them in common, she seems to be preaching something about "a time of revenge blossoming soon, the process shall begin to bear fruit" he moves away and relays his observations to the group back up the corridor

While they wait Finn attempts to see if he can hear anything coming from the door hes watching but can only make out a very muffled muttering of some sort and soft shuffling.

Psalm: finn always on the lookout for hot guys pog Finn: we arent only thirsting for blood in this house Cimmorro: wow finn looking for cult bukkake Han: if they arent above a 6 finn cant hear them Finn: jez im going to

Finn: i let the others know that i heard some muffling and shuffling behind that door. but very faintly. Han: theyre making out in that room Cimmorro: GIJFSIBJSOPFBJOSJW

The group decide to head up the stairs Psalm found and move down to the small chamber at the end of the corridor.

Han: han is following but constantly at the back Keva: han the vigilant Rokka: not all heroes wear capes Finn: OKAY NOW I FEEL BAD ABOUT LEAVING HER ON HER OWN Han:

Keva offers to take point, and stealth's up the stairs, getting a look at the corridor at the top of them. Peeking her head out she sees similarly to the last corridor they walked, another row of of jail cells with what look like more sacks inside. Halfway down she spies what looks to be another guard, his arms crossed periodically looking to the left and right

The group get in position to take him out, Keva and Han both fire off their arrows, psalm backing them up with a blast, the arrows strike the guard in the side before he is knocked down by the blast, quickly taken out. Han and Plum briefly jog back to the guard post from earlier to grab the keys again so they can hide this guard with the bodies as well.

Accomplishing that the group see now that this corridor connects between the left one and the right one from the initial pool room, they decide to use this to take out the guards they saw in the right corridor carefully, party members on either end of it. From this new vantage point Keva sees there are three of them in the right corridor now.

Psalm: 16 to hit, god i dont like this im assuming i haven't missed yet.... when the boss comes i'll miss every shot guaranteed, bruh the boss is going to kill me

Psalm, Finn and Rokka head back the long way and crouch by the stairs near the far end guard while the others stick to the bottom to take out the two halfway through the corridor.

Han and Keva shoot of their arrows and with their combined might manage to instantly bring down one of the guards. Psalm blasts the one near the stairs, surprising him but he seems to be still standing afterwards now alert. before he can do anything however Finn rushes in and skewers him, quickly silencing him

Finn: FINE IF YOU WANT ME TO SO BAD ILL GO STAB THE GUY Cimmorro: jude is going to sex town

Cimmorro uses sacred flame on the other guard standing halfway through the corridor but only manages to lightly singe his hair.

Cimmorro: he just does it to provoke Rokka: ;DLKFJSLDKFJLSKDJ Cimmorro: really the only thing he been reading in those sacred libraries is the urban dictionary

He strikes again this time doing a bit more than singe the guard’s hair, Han and Keva both try and fire a series off a quick shots once again after he does, Han's goes wide however, only kevas striking, still leaving the guard standing. Quickly afterwards Rokka and Psalm run out at the same time, Psalm is able to step out and blast the remaining guard from the opposite end, taking them all out before any could retaliate.

Psalm: ROOMIES Han: oh my god they were roommates... Rokka: I'll move as close as I can and then cheerleader for psalm Psalm: ^_^ greatly appreciated Rokka: Go roomie!!

Han: hey we've been smart and careful about this, we could've been. REAL dumb Finn: honestly we've been really smart, ALMOST LIKE. CAUTION IS A GOOD THING DSHJFBSDUFGSFH

The group about quickly hiding the three bodies among the jail cells again, completing that Keva rummages through the guard desk in this corridor for anything of note. Inside she finds papers detailing some sort of guard training…seems there are at least over 20 acolytes being trained in the ways of assassination around here.

Psalm: oh can i read the papers or did u just tell everyone what they said Han: keva found them and told everything else to read iirc(edited) Keva: i did not say that in the rp but yes let's assume yall saw it bc i can't read i forgot lmoa Han: LKH;LKHSAWEFSD Psalm: WHAT'D YOU EVEN LOOK AT THE PAPERS FOR THEN

As she does Finn goes to listen to the door at the top of this corridor, he hears no sounds coming from the inside, it appears unlocked as well.

Finn: now if it were cin, he'd open that door. Han: . Chip: jude reminding us of our good fortune rn

Han goes to investigate the small chamber at the end of the corridor they just came through, looking about she sees storage crates piled high and bags filled with more bags, looking inside them she rifles through small amounts of rations within. Around are more cages and a large metal screen of sorts, it looks to be disuse however, she wanders back down the corridor.

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> 🎵 Sewer, Echo, Approaching / 2Mello.

As she does Psalm presses his ear to a door that branches off from the middle of the corridor, listening if he can hear anything or any activity beyond it. As he does he hears the sound of a voice coming through, though all you can really tell is that it sounds like someone giving instruction of some sort.

Cimm, Plum and Keva decide to walk back to the blood pool room, Plum wants to try casting identify on the pillar to see if they can garner any further insight on its functions. In the meantime Psalm asks Rokka, Finn and Han if they can make out anything coming from inside the door hes listening in on. The group stretch their ears once more, though Han in particular recognises the cadence of the voice through the door as the one she heard speaking when she was trying to listen through the vents.

Han: while they're all standing ears pressed to the door han hesitantly asks "is blood letting and stuff like... generally associated with. what you said. cults?" even quieter "actually what are cults lets start there" Psalm: you're asking me? Han: all of you, i guess. you all seem to have more different opinions about this than me Psalm: well from what i just know generally, rituals like these are commonly associated with the more er, 'evil' cults let's say, it does tend to get played up in fiction but since we are also 100% standing in a room with a blood pool and runes on the floor praising a demon you could say that it's played up for good reason. Rokka: rokka just tilts his head like ?? Han: han just looks. kinda processing "what do you mean, "played up"?" Psalm: romanticised i suppose Finn: finn just leaning against the cell. listening. Psalm: like how you'd expect things to be more exaggerated so that they're actually entertaining in a book or play, otherwise it wouldn't be interesting.

In the meanwhile the other group make their way into the large chamber, Keva stands at the bottom of the stairs leading out while Cimmorro and Plum make their way up the one over the blood pool. Plum reaching the top, stands near the pillar with their hands, taking the time and casting identify upon it. As they touch it an unwelcome feeling fills their senses, like whispers in their ears.

The pillar is definitely enchanted, it seems the process directly enhances the person who drips their blood upon it. As long as it is collected within the pool below it seems the enchantment keeps its hold indefinitely, combined with the whispers and information they’ve gathered from before, you get the feeling this is used in some way for whoever wrote the runes on the floor to communicate to those that have bled upon it.

Chip: CIMM LIKES TO FEEL TALL Cimmorro: SHUT UPPP ILL KILL YOU

Satisfied the group head back to the corridor with the others, keva noting that it seems the chanting is still ongoing in the background, as they do they walk into the conversation the rest of the group is currently having.

Psalm: That being said though, we are still very much in a situation like out of a novel you could say. And it's not like i have much experience with cults myself...for all i know they're all like this Han: han visibly looks like she regrets asking "like a novel huh" Keva: keva walks in and sees that she has missed smth

Psalm: oh right, a cult is just a group of people that religious practices that aren't commonly accepted, or in most cases, evil. Forgot you asked. Usually they worship a figurehead, potentially a person or otherworldly being, so they're not that far removed from the average religion. Han: han is borderline sweating Keva: wait, we've been chasing after this cult this entire time and you didn't know what a cult was? Han: well. no not really. Finn: finn closes his eyes. I Cannot

Psalm: why the interest though? i suppose it is a bit messed up in here, and if you didn't know before i guess it's pretty shocking, what with all the blood and everything Han: just uh. curious is all. Psalm: i see. well if you have anymore questions. Cimmorro: [raised brow]

Half the group subtly eyeball Han to see if she’s lying about her questions coming from a place of mere curiosity.

Han: me just throwing these breadcrumbs Psalm: can't just not eat them off the flor Plum: someone eat them!! Cimmorro: gang beats up han with insight Han: everyone at han rn [raised brow] Cimmorro:

Finn: han: asks a simple question, the party: lets get her boys Rokka: rokka just rly wanna know if he gotta comfort u or naw

- finn watching from where you are leaned against a cell you easily see through her lie, you get the feeling the question is related to a past experience of hers perhaps, you understand the feeling of wanting clarification well - psalm and keva it seems clear that shes lying and that she has a deeper reason for asking about this, though you dont really know why - rokka han seems upset by all these damn cults, u understand this place sucks

Cimmorro: prolonged strained silence

The group dont inquire any further into her odd reactions at the moment, Finn moves the conversation along, asking if any of the party would like to help him check out the room at the top of the corridor or if they’d like to check out the door they were just listening in on.

Han: "ye shall we storm these dudes" (points to door) Keva: you were all cautious before and now you wanna just barge in? Han: whispers to keva "i was half joking" Keva: you're hilarious. Han: thank you ^_^

The group decide to go along with Finn’s suggestion, preferring to run into as few people possible for the moment and shuffle down the corridor, the group all stand behind psalm as he creaks the door open with mage hand. Peering inside they all see a small room with no one around inside, piled high are a bunch of beds, seems this looks like where the acolytes sleep.

Han: everyone takes a long rest Finn: HBZUFGMIOGF;HFHGJHOW MANY BEDS ARE THERE THIS TIME Han: finn rn like: . Finn: finn: i do not see it. i do not perceive it.

Rokka: rokka barges in and dives into a bed like "ahhhhhh yes" Han: goes back to look out position Psalm: rokka you really want to be rolling around in the beds of people that drain the blood out of innocents for rituals? Rokka: a bed is a bed Finn: A MAN OF SOLID CONVICTIONS Cimmorro: we're in some hazbin hotel kinda shit and u just gonna sleep here Psalm: that's terrifying resilience. i'm impressed, if not a bit scared

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> 🎵 Highway, Fog, Visitation / 2Mello.

As the group look about the room watching rokka walk in, Han notices behind them all down the corridor, the sound of a door creaking open. Quickly she moves to push everyone inside the room as quick and quietly as she can, though she’s sure they were heard.

Cimmorro: this cult guy barrelling down the corridor upon hearing han

Han: HAN LEVELS UP FROM STRESS AND FAZES OUT OF EXISTENCE

Closing the door behind them inside the room they look about flustered. They all take a beat to listen and hear the sound of footsteps coming closer down the corridor. they decide to dive under the beds and hide, though there isnt enough for all of them.

Psalm casts Invisibility on Han while the rest of them pile under, she quickly moves and sticks herself as close to the wall as possible. Finn in particular also quickly shifts into a bat and hangs himself from a corner of the ceiling

Rokka: rokka rolls off the bed with an OOF then rolls under the bed he was on Cimmorro: plum who is the smallest has the hardest time shuffling under the bed and stubs their toe Rokka: stubs toe and screams FUCK, it echoes down the hall

After a beat they all listen as the footsteps near closer and closer to the door, they hear a shuffling before it is opened up by a hooded figure, human, though his cloak looks more ornately decorated that the guards from before.

Han: whats boytoy doing Jez: whipping his dick out, he came here to jack off bro we all gotta watch him Han: SOME ME TIME Plum: YOU CALLED EM BOYTOYBHHJ Rokka: HSUT UPPPPPPPPPPPPPPSHUT UPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP Psalm: HE CAMEM HERE TO JACK OFGF i'm unsubscribing from pornhub right now Plum: jez, jez, what haunts you Cimmorro: LKVGDASJKLGJDSJBSJFNB Rokka: this is like a bad wattpad fic Cimmorro: yall wanted to share beds we're getting a different kind of sharing today Finn: . Han: save a citizen share a cultist Finn: WHAT IS HE GONNA DO WATCH OUR BEDS ALL DAY Cimmorro: HES GONNA WANK IT BRO Rokka: SHUT HT EHLEL UP

He walks inside and peers about the room, eyeing the floors and the walls stepping around and staring carefully. It almost seems as if he makes eye contact at one point with Han but he continues moving his gaze past her.

Olst: “Where on earth have those louts gotten too” he clicks his tongue and turns to walk out of the room “Discipline is in order, hopefully our grace feels the need to be more quick with his hand…” his mumbling putters off as he shuts the door behind him

Plum: THEYREEE DEAD Psalm: OH MY GOD I JUST REALISED WHO HE MEANT OH MY GOD WE KILLED HIS FAVOURITE MOOKS Han: THE GUYS WE KILLED ;KASDFKH;LKHWKH3EF Rokka: im laughing MY FUCKING ASS OFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

The group one by one slowly emerge from under the beds, Han takes a moment before peering out the door, seeing the man walk down the stairs towards the blood pool room. She whispers out “coasts clear” before walking out the room still invisible to follow him, Finn in bat form follows after her to also trail him.

Psalm: psalm to himself like... god maybe i should've explained how invis works first Han: han said coast clear and fucked off Finn: i wish i could've asked psalm for an explanation on invisible i have no idea when this runs out

The group meanwhile decide to check out the room the man came from in the meantime since he just left it, walking back to the middle of the corridor, sneaking past. Keva stops briefly at the top of the stairs to listen in on any conversation from the blood pool room

As she does Han and Finn follow the hooded man, she slowly scuttles down the staircase standing quietly at the bottom and hanging out of sight with Finn. There she sees 3 other figures, each wearing ornate looking cloaks, one they’ve not seen before. As the human approaches the others he speaks

Olst: “the acolytes are becoming lax in their duties, this is because you aren’t strict enough with them” he stares directly as the tiefling as he says that, to which he babbles back ???: you know th-that is not my responsibility Olst..” the human tuts and clicks his tongue. Emruz: The woman on the far end pipes up “quit your gripping your voice is as annoying as venom, you can discuss the trivialities later our grace has requested all of to assemble now and I’ll have quiet as we do” the two glare at each other for a moment Olst: he relents, responding with an “..of course” The four of them gather near the front of the of the pool and stand at attention.

Han watches them close their eyes, as if waiting for something for a few beats. Keva moves on to where the rest of the group are stationed in front of the door down the corridor.

Rokka: yo is theyorde going to rise from blood pool Psalm: GOD CAN YOU IMAGINE WE WERE FUCKING AROUND IN THERE Finn: finn and han listening to this shit: Psalm: YEAH CAN YOU IMAGINE THE TWO THAT HATE THIS SHIT THE MOST ARE THE ONES WATCHING THE BLOOD POOL MEETING Han: MOST FUCKING BAGGAGE Finn: FINALLY WE HAVE A COMMON ENEMY FOR SOCIAL LINK RANK 1

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> 🎵 The Final Combat / Darkest Dungeon OST.

Han continues watching before suddenly she sees all of their eyes snap open, they all tilt their heads up before clasping their hands together out of some sort of reverence. The longer she watches the more it looks like they’re listening to something. Slowly her and Finn see smiles begin to form on their faces, albeit who’s mouths they can actually see. After a moment they bow their heads again, before unclasping their hands.

They see the woman on the far left immediately cackle and gesticulate with her hands with joy

Emruz: “I KNEW IT I KNEW IT, ony two more days’ time, our grace is amazing indeed finally we will bring down those who stand upon their ivory towers, bring them crashing down to a place wherein we might exact our revenge and force their penance.” Ida: Next to her the drow contemplatively nod in agreement while ???: The tiefling keeps his hands clasped together in reverence muttering “ohh it is true it is true, finally we are ready to enact his great design, the results of our tireless devotion…” Olst: the human next to him chuckles as well “the streets above shall run red as they so deserve, the brood will overtake them at every turn, their defences shall be their very ruin”

The four walk up to the blood pool and touch its outer rim bringing one other hand up to their lips, they speak a coded hymn out loud, as they do they their hands glow a faint red before they are surrounded by a flash. Once complete they step away again, the elf woman speaks up once more

Emruz: “may their soak in their own fluids” before she cackles wildly again.

---

Notes:

🗡 Keva pocketed another「 Red Letterhead Token ✨ 」 🍺 Plum holds the「 Jailer’s Keys ✨ 」 💀5 guards seem to be lax in their duties....

- 48 Hours until 📜🩸 The Reckoning 🩸📜 -

#recaps #200126 #:3c

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jeichanhaka · 4 years

Text

The Robbed That Smiles

Chapter Eight

“That could’ve gone better.” Stephen Strange muttered as he portalled himself and Thor from the government office, neither of them having wanted to fight against people who weren’t their enemies or at least shouldn’t be. The sorcerer sighed.

“We tried things your way, wizard. This country’s government doesn’t even care that my brother is innocent this time. They just want the Tesseract.” Thor growled, furious as he stepped out from Strange’s portal; it took a moment for him to notice the alarm in the sorcerer’s eyes. Or the way Strange tensed, his gaze darting over their surroundings. “Wizard, what is…”

Strange raised his hand in a be quiet gesture, shushing the thunder god. His own gaze roaming over the room - the main room of the Sanctum where he entertained and evaluated guests, especially those he’d considered less than secure. A secure location, safe. It wasn’t however, where he’d expected to portal into - his destination had been the Sanctum library. “This isn’t right.”

Irritated at being shushed, Thor started to criticize his colleague, but faltered as he watched Strange. Watched as the sorcerer armed his magic, the glint in his eyes one of a warrior expecting an assault. It immediately made Thor brace for an attack, expecting an enemy to lunge out at them.

“The Sanctuary spell’s been broken.” Continued Strange, observing the Sanctum cautiously even as he strode forward; his senses keen for any sign of an enemy as well as his fellow sorcerer Wong. His gut and the state of the Sanctum warning him of a dangerous threat.

“...I thought you said that was impossible.” Thor glared at the sorcerer, his concern immediately switching to what this meant for his brother. It was less worry for his brother - aside from his fellow Avengers, none of the Midgardians would be able to really harm Loki - and more worry about what the mischief god might do if pushed. What his brother might construe as reasonable self-defense, the Midgardian government would likely consider cause enough to demand Loki be imprisoned. Or exiled.

“It is. At least for the soldiers who were waiting outside.” Strange hurried into the hall, quickly noticing the signs of struggle. And the humanoid body lying comatose just below the window at the end of the corridor. Immediately he approached the unconscious stranger, not needing much to realize that whoever it was, was incapacitated due to the Sanctuary spell. That fact however did nothing to lessen his concern. The spell may have worked, but the stranger’s location meant one thing. “...it was breached from inside. Whoever broke the Sanctuary spell, did so from inside the Sanctum.”

“What are you saying, wizard?” Bristled Thor, immediately assuming his colleague was about to blame his brother. After all, nearly every Midgardian he met today had done likewise, whether justified or not. “If you think Loki…”

“Relax. I know it wasn’t your brother.” Strange interrupted the thunder god and continued searching the upstairs rooms. “There are security safeguards in place to inform me if he tries and succeeds at breaching any of the Sanctum’s defences. It wasn’t him. I’ve set similar safeguards for Miss Lokki, as well.”

“Then who…” Thor’s brow creased, but before he could say anything more, or voice a suspicion that hissed in his thoughts, Strange noticed the physical breach through the Sanctum wall. Straight through his sleeping quarters, and adjacent to the library. It took little time for the Midgardian wizard to check the breach and notice the monk, lying unconscious in the wreckage outside.

“Wong!” Strange hurried to his friend and fellow sorcerer, Thor following behind him until a noise drew the thunder god to a different direction.

Tense and worried about Loki - both his brother and his brother’s female doppelganger - Thor quickened towards where he heard the noise. The sound was that of someone in pain, whimpering and breathing heavily. Somewhere in his subconscious he realized it was a stranger whimpering, but that mattered little - despite the fact that the stranger would likely be one of the Sanctum’s attackers.

“Are you….” Thor coughed and covered his nose, stricken by the stench greeting him as much as by the cowering man’s whimpers. His eye widened gawking at the stranger, his gut burbling at the bloody sight of the Midgardian’s fingers. It tightened and his breath hitched as the god noticed the cuts on the stranger’s cheeks and the severely frostbitten skin around the man’s throat.

“Loki...” He subconsciously muttered, though whether he meant his brother or his brother’s female counterpart, not even he was sure. At least after his initial assumption passed - shoved aside when the stranger started struggling to breathe; The frostbite damage taking its toll, along with the shock, as the numbness caused by the cold wore off. It took just a handful of seconds for the stranger to succumb to his injuries. “...what have you done?”

“Nice to see how quickly you assume I’m at fault.” His brother’s voice interrupted and the mischief god appeared suddenly behind Thor, the magic that had obscured him from view dispelled. Scowling down at the thunder god, who’d knelt to check on the Midgardian’s injuries, he waited and stood regally over Thor, arms behind his back, the look on his face immoveable. After a moment he shrugged. “He and his buddies attacked - what do you expect I’d have done?” Loki inquired peering down at his brother, whose face reflected an inner conflict. It wasn’t difficult to follow his brother’s thought process - here was a dead Midgardian bearing injuries that couldn’t be attributed simply to combative self-defense. But could to him. “Judging by your rather obvious displeasure at me, things didn’t go well meeting with the Midgardians.”

Thor sighed, his brother’s observation reminding him of what agent Morfield had said about the Tesseract, as well as what Strange had quickly realized: That the Midgardians were right about the artifact’s presence, but were going after the wrong god for it.

“If it’ll help you could tell them this...person…” Loki gestured to the dead stranger while keeping his full contempt for the worm hidden from his face. “Endangered a pregnant guest of the Sanctum.”

The thunder god’s eyes widened, alarm filling him, though it was tempered by his experience with his brother’s lying. “He attacked Sis?”

Loki sighed and rolled his eyes. “Selfie’s fine. I’m just giving you a way to help mitigate things for me. Regardless of what the Midgardians think of me or why they refuse to see sense with this statue nonsense, accusing one of their mercenaries of endangering an unborn child will certainly work to my...our advantage.”

“Sis wasn’t attacked then?” Asked Thor, completely unsure of his brother’s verity. On one hand his brother sounded truthful but on the other his gut screamed at him otherwise. It didn’t help matters when Loki simply shrugged dismissively in response and repeated his explanation. “Loki...if Sis was hurt…”

“If Miss Lokki was endangered, the suppression cuffs I placed on her would release and allow her to freely use her magic to protect herself.” Strange interrupted, having finished helping Wong and questioning him about the identity of the Sanctum’s attacker. The moment his friend and colleague had mentioned Mordo, he was shocked. Although he had expected to have to deal with his ex-colleague at some point, he never expected the man to aid the government’s move on Loki. “More importantly,” He continued after checking on the dead stranger, noting the man’s injuries and ascertaining that the stranger was truly deceased. “Where is Mordo - the third attacker? And the soldiers who were waiting to ambush the Sanctum, where did they go?” Turning his attention to Loki, he asked the liar god who simply shrugged. A response that satisfied neither Thor nor Strange.

Thor grimaced sternly at his brother. “Loki…”

“I have zero idea what happened to the Midgardian soldiers. I was dealing with -” Loki gestured to the dead man lying on the floor. “This thing while whatever happened between them, shield-boy, and that other wizard happened.” He paused, mulling over something before asking Strange directly. “Seriously, just how many wizards does Midgard have?”

“Enough.” Replied Strange, leering at Loki and expressing through non-verbal communication his unspoken threat. That there were enough sorcerers on Earth to deal with the mischief god, either to banish him or seal him away if he became a problem. Loki just shrugged and rolled his eyes, dismissing the nonverbal threat. “What happened to Mordo - the ‘other wizard’ as you so eloquently put it?” Strange asked, sardonically emphasizing the word ‘eloquently’ - which prompted the silvertongue god to scowl at him.

“No clue. Now, if we’re done, I’ll just…” Loki paused and rolled his eyes when Thor reached for his arm, the thunder god’s hand going right through the mischief god’s illusion. “...Really?” He shook his head at his brother’s annoyed yet still surprised look. “You’re pissed off. The Sanctum is...well…” He gestured around at the Sanctum, emphasizing its current condition. “Did you honestly expect me to stick around to be blamed for shit?”

Thor gaped and then started to refute his brother’s assumption, only for Loki to scoff.

“Sure you wouldn’t.” Said the mischief god sarcastically. “Remind me how long it took before your Avenger buddies convinced you I was lying about leaving the Tesseract in Asgard three years ago? A week?” Loki spat, giving his brother a look that exactly matched the attitude and irritation in his words. It soon morphed into one of curiosity as Strange and Thor both reacted at his mention of the Tesseract. He glanced from one man to the other, gauging their reactions, his brain quickly zeroing in on a possible reason. “Don’t tell me that this - that the Midgardians wanting to imprison me is all because of the bloody Tesseract.” Loki growled, becoming more furious with every word. “I should’ve bloody fucking taken it then, if this is what I’m to deal with for the rest of my bloody....”

“Hate to interrupt the quality family time,” Stark interrupted through one of his iron suits, having sent it to the Sanctum to check on things. It arrived just seconds into the mischief god’s tirade, in time to catch mention of the Tesseract. “But there are more pressing concerns to deal with now other than debating whether the liar god lied or not.”

“And what…” Strange started to ask, stopping when Loki dispelled the projection of himself without another word. He scowled, but also rolled his eyes, at the huffyness of mischief god’s exit. Thor, though, didn’t share the same sentiment and nearly rounded on the sorcerer for it.

“Wiz…”

“Now isn’t the time for this.” Stark cut across Thor. “Tell me Rogers is with you. Or that he’s somewhere nearby.” The inventor implored, before groaning when both Thor and Strange shook their heads. “Fuckin…” He muttered, before telling his fellow Avengers to come to the tower asap.

~0~

It was dark. And the space around him felt heavy, the air - it was difficult to breathe, difficult to do anything but gasp repeatedly for air that barely satisfied his body’s need for oxygen. His heart raced in his chest as Rogers realized this, and it took all his willpower to not go into a full-blown panic and thus lessen the effectiveness of his breaths even further.

He floundered around in the darkness around him, reaching out for any sort of handhold or structure or rock, etc. Anything to help him get his bearings and give him some idea where he was. The only thing he could tell was that he was on some surface - he was standing after all, even if he couldn’t see what it was he was standing on. Nor could he see any walls around him, but understood from the claustrophobic feeling in his gut that he was in an enclosed space. Yet when he reached out - there was nothing.

“Hello?” He called out roughly, as it was a struggle to get in enough oxygen with the air so heavy. It took him a few gasps afterwards before he managed to continue. His legs felt shaky and his heart thumped harshly. “Is anyone here?”

There was no answer and he started to step forward, his vision still overwhelmed by the heavy blackness surrounding him. Before he made it a step - barely seconds before the foot he’d lifted forward to begin his walk landed back down onto whatever surface he was standing on - someone grabbed him. By the shoulders, stopping his movement forward.

His reaction was immediate. Grabbing for the hands of whoever it was, he pulled them off him and spun around. Ready to face whoever or whatever it was that had grabbed him. (The hands he’d pulled off his shoulders felt strange, inhuman but humanoid, as well as cold and hard.) It took him a moment to realize that he could see nothing of the thing that had grabbed him. His hand was still clasped around their wrists, but he saw nothing. The darkness was that absolute.

“That way is death. You do not want to go there.” The creature spoke, its voice human but with an odd tone and cadence. The sort that was produced using computers. It was then that he realized whatever had grabbed him was some sort of robot, with the inhumanness of its limbs being due to being made from metals and plastics rather than flesh.

“Then where?” He asked and then took another few gasps for air, his head starting to throb from the low oxygen.

“Please refrain from speaking. The space-pocket you are in does not contain enough oxygen rich air to sustain conversation.”

“Space…” Rogers barely managed to say before the robot shushed him, repeating its warning. Feeling lightheaded and with a headache pounding full blast inside his skull, he decided to heed the machine’s warning. Though he had so many questions he wanted to ask.

“Good. Now step towards me. I will guide you. Just do not let go of my arms.” The robot replied and proceeded to do as it said it would; Rogers felt uneasy just going along with the stranger - the chances it was leading him into danger were high. But considering his only alternative was asphyxiating in the low oxygen environment, he took the gamble that if the robot led him to danger, he could fight it off. Unless the robot was leading him into an even worse environment.

His stomach clenched as he considered that possibility, and he nearly ripped his arms away from the robot - the machine had clamped onto his wrists on their way forward, perhaps out of some sort of AI foresight. He stopped when the first waff of oxygen-rich air hit him and he sucked in a breath immensely relieved. The light was the next thing he noticed - it wasn’t bright or shining, but he could finally make out his own hands and the barest outlines of his surroundings.

Including the robots hands, which were more human-like than he expected. As he continued forward, following his guide, he noticed how realistic the robot was. Realistic skin, limb portions, muscular composition - everything was uncannily real, and when they were in full light, he could see no evidence that the creature was anything but human.

He stared at the robot or android, his curiosity piqued. Five and a half foot tall, sporting dark umber hair, skin a mix of snow and ochre, and dressed in a leather and tweed outfit, the android stopped walking and motioned forward. Rogers barely even noticed. “How…”

“Hey! Hey!! Tin-can!” Someone called out, shouting until the android turned towards them.

“My name is not ‘Tin-can.’ It is Fen. Address me as such or not at all.”

“Whatever.” The person muttered before barraging the android with questions in regard to the man’s colleagues: questions along the lines of how long they would be unconscious and if the first aid applied to them was sufficient. Rogers just listened quietly behind the android, unnoticed by the man, until it clicked in his head who the other human was.

“Wait.” Rogers interrupted the other’s barrage of questions, stepping into the other’s view. “ You’re one of the soldiers that attacked the Sanctum.”

“W...You?! How…the flipping hell are you here?!” The soldier exclaimed and tensed, instinctively shifting into a defensive position while glancing for his firearm. The item in question lay on a bench table about thirty feet away, too far to be of use even if Rogers was a normal human.

“Relax. I’m not here to fight.” Rogers held up his hands in a gesture that matched his words, emphasising his lack of hostility. “I’m as clueless as you. I don’t even know where or what this place is.”

“This is the Arboretum.” Replied the android, Fen, while pointing to the trees, shrubs, and ferns. Many of which, on closer inspection weren’t actually there. Enough were real to account for the oxygen rich environment, but most others were illusionary. The ‘sun’ too was fake, nothing but a light source suspended high above them. “The ship is yet to be named.”

“...Ship?” Rogers asked, despite already having a guess to what the android meant, and when Fen unshuttered a window showing the dark, star-spattered expanse surrounding them outside, the Avenger simply stared out. “Space. We’re in space.” He muttered while Fen left, the android heading towards where the injured soldiers were. The uninjured soldier followed closely behind, barely bothering with the Avenger.

Rogers approached closer to the window, staring out at the stars in awe, his eyes scanning for any familiar constellations or such. Any hint suggesting that they were in space around Earth and not in a vastly foreign part of space as he feared in his gut. The more his gaze searched the expanse, the more he realized he recognized none of the stars or the constellations they made up.

He tensed, his thoughts on Mordo and what the sorcerer was doing - although the man had been truthful when saying the soldiers he’d portalled away weren’t dead, that didn’t mean he wasn’t a threat. Mordo had known about the female Lokki after all, despite the Avengers keeping a lid on that fact about the woman. Keeping it secret from the rest of S.H.I.E.L.D, and only revealing it to a few of their own number. Mainly only those Avengers who’d been in New York the day Lokki appeared.

No one else should’ve known her identity.

(Even if S.H.I.E.L.D or any other government agencies knew of the goddess’ presence, Stark had crafted an explanation for Lokki’s sudden appearance, along with a false identity. It should’ve taken a while - at least a few weeks longer for anyone to see through it. Even longer, considering how focused the government seemed to be on Loki.)

Rogers grimaced, giving up searching for familiar constellations and instead reaching for the communicator Stark had made for and given to each of the team. It was only as he pressed the transmit button and got only static that he remembered it had gotten damaged recently. During a mission. Just that morning he’d been planning on giving it back to Stark to repair, only to be distracted helping Thor.

“I’m not sure if any of you will get this.” Rogers spoke into the communicator anyways, not confident on it reaching his fellow Avengers, but figuring it was worth the try. “I’m on some ship, in some part of space that I have no idea where. Some wizard who attacked the Sanctum portalled me here. Along with some US soldiers.” He paused and walked towards a more secluded spot, something about his environment making him feel uneasy. “The wizard is after Lokki - the female one. He knows about her. Considering her pregnant condition, she should be guarded.”

He concluded his message, the uneasy feeling grown stronger. To combat it, he walked around the Arboretum and then through a doorway behind one of the few real trees. At first he thought it headed to a corridor, but it was simply a walk-in closet or storage. Albeit one with a computer and small desk tucked in the far corner. There was another door beside the desk, locked. That wasn’t what caught his eye - or rather his ear.

It was the computer. Its monitor was pitch for some reason, but the speakers were on and their audio clear, if a bit low. Straining to hear the audio, Rogers leaned in and held his breath. The voice unmistakably that of Stark.

-“...if the worst happens. If none of us make it. If he kills all of us, then…” There was a pause, Stark’s voice lowering a bit. “Lokki, you need to...”-

“What are you doing here?” Fen interrupted, the android’s voice drowning out that of Stark’s. “This area is off limits to all but Lokki. She will be furious if she sees you here on her return.” The android ushered Rogers out of the tiny room, its voice too loud for the Avenger to make out anything else on the recording. And its strength beyond what the man expected. “If the Arboretum is not to your liking, perhaps the Library or the Lounge will be?”

“I…” Rogers stopped resisting; Stark’s voice and words echoing in his ears, along with the android’s. He may not have caught all of the recording, but he understood much more than just a minute ago. Just from listening to the pronoun the android used. “This is her universe. Miss Lokki’s.”

“This ship belongs to Lokki, yes.” Fen replied and tilted its head, not understanding Rogers’ emphasis on the universe being Lokki’s. “The universe belongs to no one.”

“That’s not what…” Rogers tried to explain, but the android just hurried off after pointing briefly towards a set of doors that the man assumed led to the aforementioned library and lounge. He sighed and glanced towards the makeshift medic area where the android was once again dealing with the soldiers. Partly tempted to see if he could help, he considered going over, but decided not after overhearing the android tell the uninjured soldier that his fellows just needed to rest. That there was nothing else to do.

“This is just great.” Rogers muttered with a tinge of sarcasm, wondering if he should walk around the Arboretum - perhaps try to reenter the room with the computer again - or instead explore other parts of the ship. Despite the android’s more-than expected strength and such, he knew he could make it back to the room quick enough to glean much more from the recording. Perhaps hear the whole thing and maybe figure out more about the frost giantess, like what exactly happened to her universe or how she got to theirs. It’d be useful and he could reach it before the android could stop him. But…

‘Fen is helping the soldiers, if I distract him and something goes wrong with one of them…’ The Avenger sighed, quickly deciding to wait until the unconscious soldiers were better before risking distracting the android. ‘Maybe I’ll find something elsewhere on the ship that’ll be useful? Perhaps something that’ll help get us back home.’ He thought while pushing the button on one of the doors, judging it to be the library due to the book design etched onto it.

“Grrrr.” A sharp growl the second the door opened caused Rogers to bristle and freeze, even more so when the growling became a roar. Not a long or loud roar, but a menacing one. His eyes quickly searched for the origin - and nearly jumped out of their sockets when they found it.

A bristling bear, with grizzled fur and coal eyes, glared at him from three bookshelves away. It growled at him, watching him and waiting.

“Oh boy.” Rogers muttered, smiling nervously at the creature. His brain gone blank from the combination of shock and confusion seeing the bear. The last thing he’d expected was encountering a bear in a library on a ship in the middle of space. “Lokki certainly has interesting taste in pets.”

“Grahhh!” The bear roared viciously at the word pet and stood on its hindlegs, making itself much more menacing.

“Sorry! Not a pet.” Said Rogers on reflex, not realizing until the bear settled down and he sighed in relief that the creature understood him. “Wait...you understand what I’m saying?” He asked, to which the bear replied with a softer growl that seemed to be saying ‘yes.’ To clinch it the creature moved its head clumsily in a nodding gesture. Afterwards it started walking away down one of the aisles, not giving Rogers any more mind. “What in the….” He shook his head and mumbled before deciding to leave the library and try the lounge, not keen on reading with a bear sauntering through the aisles like some sort of beastly librarian.

He was just about to exit, his hand centimeters from pressing the button controlling the door, when a shockwave rippled through the ship.

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