#void bulb my beloved

[wisp-of-chaos]

Still kinda sad we aren't allowed to craft these

#gaming #random rambling #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #void bulb my beloved

[momentsandmusings]

Moving home, and my friends' almost-successful attempt at making me stay

A box and three suitcases half-full of my belongings sit around, scattered in my apartment. The rest are still in the drawers of my dresser, on my desk, and in the laundry basket. The packed clothes are barely folded, and the books in the box are stacked like a bad game of Tetris. My cat, Shrimp, hates going into his carrier, despite the amount of treats I leave, the shiny toys that wait around, and how many droplets of catnip spray linger in there. My beloved subletter of three months made me pay for the first week of December, so I kept the heating up to the max in my room, even if I was out of the apartment for extended periods of time. I fly back home tomorrow.

Every time I fly back to Quebec from my hometown, Vancouver, it only ever really takes between less than a day or two to adjust back to the brittled concrete, the charming garbage day air, and the Bixis in my blind spots. September of this year was different. After a long West Coast summer of six weeks, I felt a leftwards tug that I tried to ignore. It lingered weeks after I landed and settled into my new apartment. I tried to journal, walk, exercise, and meditate the yearning away, but in turn these activities lead me to a plane ticket home—so here we are.

The other night, my friends threw a pyjama-karaoke-themed farewell party for me. I took care of the invites, and they took care of the rest. I knew I wanted to see all my friends before I left, and I could have easily planned something for myself. But between work, packing, and attempting to force Shrimp to get used to being lugged around in a container with wheels, I needed help–and as a Leo with crippling pride, it was nice to not have to admit it in the moment when they offered to plan it for me, and I am so grateful to them.

Around my friend Alex’s apartment, there were photos of me dispersed around her walls. In no particular order: there was one from when I went apple picking with my boyfriend, Will; Will and I posing next to the Barbie movie poster after seeing it in theatres when it came out this July; another of me behind the counter from when I was working as a barista at the hip Italian joint in Griffintown; me and my roommate’s cat, Pesto, who is shaped like an upside-down light bulb; a few of me in my friend Adela’s backyard—one of me, Maxine, and Alex celebrating her M&M-themed birthday as brown M&Ms, one during her Lunar New Year hot pot, and one of me reading; one of me drinking coffee in her kitchen; me, Derelyn and Alex at this year’s pie-themed Thanksgiving; Jiestine and me eating the menu’s special (fried pork, egg, veggies, and rice) at our favourite Chinese restaurant; me on Valentine’s day (my favourite holiday) offering flowers and Cheetos to Alex, Jiestine and Adela; me sitting next to the garbage can with my arms shaped like a “V” for victory, with a smile of relief after successfully moving all my things in a storage unit.

Between these walls, we gathered around the table of candy salad bowls, Cheetos, shrimp crackers, bread, cheese, and seltzers to talk about the highs and lows of our respective seasons. I introduced new friends to old ones. We shared our Spotify Wrapped playlists, and we danced and sang the night away. Towards the end of the night it felt more and more like a campaign to get me to stay, especially when Adela sang “Take Me Home, Country Roads” while my friends surprised me with a cake decorated with gingerbread cookies and a figurine of a little boy with a mushroom bowl-cut. It almost worked.

I have my doubts about moving back, and my friends are the biggest reasons why I stuck around on this island. I can only do what feels right to me, but only time will unravel and reveal as to whether or not this homecoming is what’s best. As a victim of the late adolescent/early adulthood Vancouver to Montreal pipeline and meme to “fill the void”, I am grateful that I fell into the trap. At my goodbye party, the friendships, the music, the food, the soul put into the planning of my send-off, and the memories on the walls of Alex’s apartment stitched the gap so perfectly. I’ll hold this city so tightly to my chest, and I’ll keep it in the inside pocket of my down coat, because of who I found here.

À bientôt, mes ami.e.s. <3

#moving home #friendship #growing up #life #connection

[whereflowersbloom]

Dum Spiro Spero

The leader of the league of shadows and secrets was watching a beautiful creature bathing in sunlight. Shinning ebony hair catching each breath of early autumn’s glinting sunset, a tendril of her hair catching in the wind as it breaks free from an elaborated braid. Raven was kneeling in the garden, hands working the soil, to bring life, making new life grow. Some moments she stopped to enjoy the autumnal breeze on her face, staring into the distance as if caught in between this world and another.

Looking back Damian never thought he would have this. It had never been an option for him. His life was mostly filled with dangers, blood, threats and uncertainty. Wondering if he would live to see the next sunrise or survive enough to watch the following sunset. His life had been filled with hatred. Hatred towards a parent be believed had abandoned him, an enemy that murdered his loved ones who raised him. He did everything in his power to avenge them but he did not feel satisfaction or any kind of gratification after killing him. No. The emptiness did not fade away.

There were times where he was filled with so much regrets. Regret of rejecting his father and not believing in him, that he cared for him. Regret of the days he spent resenting his adoptive brothers for having the chance of a different life. Regret for not being able to love someone freely. Not until her.

The first time he saw her he couldn’t help but stare in awe. The same day Damian drew in his first breath of Gotham City air.

An eternity could have passed by in the blink of an eye, breath hitched in his throat, eyes quivering with strong emotion, heart hammering in his chest and yet he would have stared at the sight of her the rest of his days. For it was humanly impossible to get his eyes off of her. It was a view he had been starved of for eighteen years.

He stared because she was light.

She was home. Finally.

Porcelain skin, thick locks of raven hair, piercing, unearthly amethysts struck through his soul. And he felt alive, whole.

He had learned an important lesson. Life was too short, shorter if you’re an assassin, it was too precious. You could never waste a second of it, especially with the people closest to your heart. And he made a solemn promise to his family and himself. He decided to live without regret. To take the opportunities that life handed him and most importantly, he swore to himself that even no matter what happened in the past, the terrible things he had done, his faults and mistakes. He deserved to be happy.

That was five years ago.

It was easy to lurk in the shadows of the their house, a petite, cozy cottage close to the league’s headquarters. In the Kunlun mountains he had found a rustic little gem straight out of a Jane Austen or Charlotte Bronté novel, that was how Raven had described it. She had been working on the garden for eight months. There were now fragrant jasmine bushes and two apple trees, one almost completely covered by creamy white climbing roses, clusters of bluebells, foxgloves, pink Hibiscus flowers, pale lavender orchids, and the entire lawn was strewn with white and yellow daisies. In the shadows he knew he would not disturb her reverie. Yet he had been caught, luminous violet eyes wiser than her years cast to where he has hidden with a gentle smile that just pricked the corners of her mouth. “You know I can feel you staring, Damian. The intensity of your emotions is making me go weak.”

Damian couldn’t stop admiring his lover. Because the eyes that followed her were ones brimmed with love, adoration. Stepping into the sunlight, gently he helped her stand up, instinctively wrapping an arm around her waist. “You will never be weak, beloved. Not because of me or anyone.” Words were spoken softly, his other hand reaching to lift a white lily from the blooming bulbs bed and tucking it right behind her ear. Not too far off in the distance the radiant sun continued arching low in the sky reading to say goodbye and allowing the sky to welcome the moon and stars.

One of his long, tanned hands, cupped her face with delicacy, her body aching desperately for his touch. He placed his remaining hand over her chest. She was aware that Damian could feel the rapid pulse of her heart through skin. “Thought you’re stronger than any other living creature in this universe. There is strength in your goodness, as much as there is in steel and fire.” His emerald eyes were filled with so much joy, so much warmth and devotion, it was endless, everflowing.

Raven barely thought she was breathing, willing her unruly heart to ease a fraction, soothe down its beating instead of racing even after all these years together. Damian gently kissed her temple and murmured against her rosy cheek in a low voice that made goosebumps rise on her tender flesh. “Do you know why I fell in love with you?”

She licked her lips and pretended to think about it for a moment. “Because I said you were insufferable our first meeting.” She teased. As much as his presence annoyed her at first, she had come to feel comfortable around him, safe, content. The feelings she had tried to contain became harder and harder to ignore. Slowly, he carved himself into her heart, something she did not have a name for took root. Every time he saw him, heart fluttered in her chest like a child, and everytime he smiled at her...oh Azar she couldn’t take the clash of ardent emotions. After that something inside her began to loosen, shift, to change. She had been a fool, deceiving herself it was nothing more than friendship.

Everything changed for them and she was infinitely thankful both had put in the effort to help each other overcome their fears. They only required a little push from Dick at the beginning, because both were impossibly stubborn.

Damian chuckled audibly. It was a fascinating sound she thought to herself. His hand trailed along her collarbone, enjoying the smooth texture of her ivory skin, grasping the side of her face. Green orbs bored into violet constellations. He spoke firmly and his features hardened slightly. There was a battle raging behind his green gaze, like he was desperately fighting something inside him. His past. “You did not judge me for my past actions, for the assassin I was raised to be. I was coated in blood, spent my days destroying and taking lives. And yet you found goodness in me.” His deep voice was rough and cracked just a bit.

She had given him five years worth of smiles, laughter, love and so much more. Filling the void inside him after losing his grandfather and mother. She had lifted him up. Damian would never let her go. He refused to. How could he?

“Dum spiro spero.” He breathed, heart thundering in his chest.

He did not have tell her its definition. She knew the meaning of the phrase. She blinked in surprise, her mind automatically translated it. While I breath, I hope.

Interlacing his hand with hers, entwined like a vine to tree, he swallowed hard before continuing. “You are my hope, Raven. When I look at you I see hope.” Raven was this incredible force which had burrowed itself so deeply within him being that there would be no uprooting it. Never.

She found herself voiceless, giving time for his words to sink in. Then she did not have to think about her responses for more than a second. She knew exactly what she wanted to say.

Raven held his gaze, unwavering, for another minute before speaking. “I know you really look at me and see me for who I am and I hope you know, I will always look at you and I will see someone who despite seeing the worst of it all, is still kind, good, a generous and compassionate soul.”

The raw emotion swimming in his eyes made her want to embrace him for eternity. He loved her. He loved her more than she ever imagined. She felt her own eyes watering, tears running down her cheeks which Damian wiped away with careful motions.

“I would love to be your hope until the end of my days.” She whispered voice thick with emotion, forehead pressed against his. His skin was warmer than hers, she let herself submerge in the lingeringly tender contact. Unable to hold back anymore Damian kissed her ferociously, with starved lips, pouring all his words and feelings into the caress. Squeezing her frame against his, wishing for any distance to vanish, anything that would keep them apart.

“I love you.” He whispered in the most intimate of ways against her mouth.

Damian took her in his arms, carrying her and not wasting time, making his way inside the small cottage. They were two souls in love, hearts beating the same tune, in perfect synchrony.

Happy birthday chromie 🙈🙈🙈❤️❤️❤️

This small oneshot is dedicated to @chromium7sky my closest friend in the fandom.

I hope you all like it though. @tweepunkgrl @alerialblu @andthendk @ravenfan1242 @carnationmilk @bourniebna @srose-foxfire @sofiii

#damirae #demon birds #damian wayne #damian al ghul #raven roth #teen titans #dick grayson #tim drake #bruce wayne #slade wilson #ra’s al ghul #talia al ghul #dc fandom #dc universe #creative writing #league of assassins #damian x raven #dum spiro spero

[the-devil-herself]

Never Enough - Chapter 17

CHAPTER: 17

DESCRIPTION: Certain mates of Jotuns receive soulmate marks on their bodies. What happens when Loki’s mark is found on a girl with immense power? RATING: M

NOTES/WARNINGS: BIG TRIGGER WARNING -- mentions of infanticide and euthanasia, so please be careful before reading this chapter. Please let me know what you think!

TAGGED: @kneel-before-queen-loki​ @lokis-girl-in-mischief @tarithenurse @fangirls94 @hellofeysandarling @lokis-high-priestess @god-of-mischief-here-tada @marvelschriss

Everything was dark. I couldn’t move or breathe; I felt like floating. I was in a timeless void, and I couldn’t get out.

Until I heard shouting.

Suddenly, my eyes popped open. I had to shut them again as the light violently shone on me. Not being able to escape from the light so easily, I raised my hand to cover the harsh fluorescent bulb above me.

“Dana, you’re awake!” I heard Tony. His voice was strained with exhaustion and worry. I peeped an eye open very slowly to see the dark shadows under his eyes. “Thank God, kid.”

A hand gently grabbed my other arm, giving it a squeeze. Thor was smiling at me, his eyes bright with joy and relief, but there was something else in them. I could only faintly see the desperation beneath them.

“What happened?” I croaked.

Nat handed me a glass full of water, which I accepted gratefully. Steve recalled to me last night’s events with Lorelei. Apparently, she had done no real damage to me, fortunately missing all the big arteries. She had escaped, of course, but Loki was currently in pursuit.

“He left only after he knew you were okay,” Thor whispered to me. My heart felt lighter at that, but it didn’t drown out my worry over him. Why was he so adamant on killing this woman? Yes, she was evil, but there were plenty of evil people in this universe.

“Clint and Bruce are trying to track her down as well, but so far, nothing.” Nat refilled my glass, anticipating my needs expertly.

“And if they find her?” I asked.

Tony’s eyes were hard as he looked at a spot in the wall. “Then we destroy her.”

I spent the night under Tony and Thor’s watchful eyes. Nat and Steve would come in every now and then with food and water. However, the one person I really wanted here wasn’t around. My thoughts kept flipping to him and stressing over if he was okay or if he had found her.

I detailed hundreds of possibilities and scenarios of Loki finding Lorelei, that by the time he came back, I was so wound up with anxiety that I almost shot out of bed to hug him. Only Tony’s presence stopped that.

“What have you found?” Thor stood up to speak to Loki quietly, but the whole room was silent enough to where I could still hear them.

Loki shook his head. “Barely anything,” he hissed. “I do think I know where she’s headed, though.”

“Where?”

“She came to us,” Loki’s eyebrows were drawn together as he focused, “she’ll come to us again then. She needs something we have.”

Thor took a step forward. “And that is?”

“I should head to bed, kiddo,” Tony interrupted. He stretched in his chair before getting up and patting Thor on the back on his way out.

Loki’s eyes were drawn to me, and I instinctively wrapped my arms around myself. Thor noticed this subtle exchanging of looks and let himself outside. Loki slowly crossed the room to my bed and sat down on the chair Tony had vacated.

“I’m sorry I left you,” he whispered, his eyes turned downward in shame. “I just thought I might find her if I searched sooner.”

I shook my head. “It’s okay, I understand.” I put my hand over his without thinking, purely to calm him. His hand relaxed under my touch and brought his fingers through mine.

“She could’ve done much worse to you.” His hand suddenly bunched into a fist, and I could tell he was about to go into a blind rage.

I grabbed his hand again and placed it on my lap. “But she didn’t,” I pointed out.

He gave me a very weak smile before kissing the hand that held his. “I am immensely glad to see you okay, my little one.”

His face also looked taught and tired. I could tell he hadn’t slept either, nor did he plan to.

Dawn was coming through a bit a few hours later when Nat showed up with breakfast. Loki and I had separated ourselves, and he was seated across the room. She looked at him suspiciously but let it drop.

“You holding up alright?” she asked, a little smile showing on her face.

“So far.”

She handed me more toast, but I refused. “Dana, you need to eat more and gain your strength before we go kick the shit out of that witch,” she teased. I giggled at her joke, but I saw Loki stiffen immediately.

His hands clawed into his thighs as he tried to hold himself back. Something was up, and I needed to find out.

Once Nat left to go help Clint, I took the opportunity. “Why do you hate her so much?” I blurted.

Loki seemed startled at this outburst, but he swallowed and unclenched his hands. He came back to sit by me and tried to smile. “It’s nothing important,” he said quietly. Too quietly.

“Yes, it is,” I demanded. “Thor told me, okay? He told me you and her were engaged.”

Loki changed. His face went pale white, and it looked like a battle just went off in his head. “Aye, we were,” he muttered.

He didn’t say more only looking elsewhere for help. His eyes were scared and furious, his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he tried to swallow his words.

“Loki, please tell me!”

He stood up, startling me. “It is of no concern,” he shouted, glaring at me.

I shrank back in my covers at his fury. I had never seen him so angry, not even when he sent the Destroyer.

He realized his affect on me and softened his eyes. Running his hand down his face to clear his head, he apologized. “I’m sorry, little one, it’s just…”

“Just what?” I encouraged. To no avail. He sat down again and remained silent.

I couldn’t stand it anymore, the secrets, any of it. So, I kept prodding. “Thor said she killed a noble.” Loki’s face grew dark. “Did you know the person?”

He turned away from me for a long time, contemplating what to say next. When he finally turned around, his cheeks were wet with tears, and I knew he couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Aye, I did,” he whispered. I felt his hand reaching for mine and gave it without a word. “Lorelei and I were engaged, but she turned to darker magic.”

I had already known this part but listened intensely to him describe their early relationship. They both had felt like outsiders and seidr brought them together. Frigga had even treated her like a daughter.

It was only common sense for them to have been together intimately.

But suddenly, she changed.

“She read a book, in the hidden depths of the library where no one ventured to,” he explained. “I had been there some times myself, but she had found a book on dark magic. Frigga had forbidden me to read it, and I respected her enough to listen. But Lorelei, she fell to it.”

She had become mean and agitated at the tiniest of things. She snapped at Loki more than once a day on inconsequential matters, and he had tried to reason with her.

“Nothing helped. Soon she started harming people. She would break a leg or drive a woman crazy, things that were too evil to be just simple pranks.

“She tried to pull me into it, and a little bit of it connected with me then. Of course, more of it would help me, well doom me, later.”

He paused, rubbing his left hand with his right—a nervous tick he had since he was a boy. “She got pregnant,” he breathed. I almost shot out of my bed, my heart had kicked so wildly. I couldn’t believe this, in fact, I wouldn’t!

“At this point she was downright cruel, but she chose to keep the child saying that her child would be as powerful as she, and we would rule as a family. I don’t know what she meant by that, maybe taking the throne of Asgard.

“Well, the pregnancy had complications, and the baby, my beautiful daughter, was born early and with severe disabilities. The healers assured us she would be fine, though.”

His eyes welled up once again as he relayed this part. “I told Lorelei, I kept telling her I would care for her and our daughter no matter what. I would always have them wanting for nothing.”

He took a break, clearing his eyes of tears. I gently ran my fingers over his cheek. “What was her name?”

He smiled faintly. “Her name was Sigyn,” he laughed. “Legends told of her as my beloved, but in the wrong way. She was my beloved, my gorgeous daughter.”

“Lorelei was not happy, though,” his whole body shook with this. “She was outraged that a baby of hers would be born not as powerful as she. But when I left one night to grab her food and more blankets, she…”

He didn’t need to finish. His fists were clenching the side of my bed as tried to regain himself, but it could not be done. He had let himself be shown to me, and his body wouldn’t stop now that the words were out.

My heart broke for him. I wanted to ease his pain, wipe his tears, do SOMETHING. But I could do nothing. A part of himself was ripped from him.

“Frigga and Odin kept it between ourselves,” he sobbed. “We never told Thor or anyone else. We locked her away in the darkest corner on Asgard and kept her there for hundreds of years.”

I then understood his desire to hunt her down. She had taken away a precious piece of him for no reason at all. “So, your threat to her about dying alone, it’s because…”

“It’s because she had our baby die alone. Now she will come to feel that by my hand.”

#loki #Loki Laufeyson #loki odinson #lorelei #loki marvel #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #Loki Fandom #loki show #loki series #thor #the avengers #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #loki x reader #loki x original female character #trigger warning #infanticide #euthanasia #never enough #never enough chapter 17

[merry-mmld]

See You Later

✾ Genre: Hanakaki AU, angst

✾ Pairing: Reader x Bang Chan | Stray Kids

✾ Word Count: 900

✾ Requested: yes!!

✾ A/N: This is my first time writing angst so please help me improve so I can make a bigger impact on your feels ^^

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

The soft tick tick of the clock had been enough for Chris to distract him from his thoughts, causing him to blankly stare into the endless void of bookshelves at his university library. He was only able to snap back to reality when he coughed up a couple of soft, red tulip petals; brushing them aside with a heavy sigh. His phone began to violently vibrate against the wooden desk he had chosen over an hour ago to go over his notes for the next class. Chris quickly picked it up and answered with a whisper, recoiling into the plastic chair out of pure embarrassment. “Hello?”

“Hey, Chris! I was wondering if you wanted to meet up today? After your class of course.” The voice on the other end giggled, causing Chris’ heart to skip a beat and smile to himself like a lovesick school girl. [y/n], the sole purpose why Chris had caught the disease in the first place. From her kindness to her quirky-ness, Chris fell head over heels when they first met in middle school.

“Sure,” He replies meekly, closing all of his notebooks and shoved them into his beloved, black backpack. “I’ll see you at Panda Tea.” Chris hung up hastily and rushed to his next class desperate to see her.

-~-~-

An hour and a half pass and Chris is the first one out the door, jogging to their designated hang out area. [y/n] was already sitting in the booth where they always sat at, looking up from her laptop and waved him over with the cutest smile Chris has ever seen. “You look happy today, no bullshit assignments?” She giggled sweetly ‘like a fairy.’ Chris would describe over and over again to his friends.

Chris shook his head with a light chuckle. “No, just happy to see my best friend.”  He felt physical pain from saying ‘Best friend’ wincing slightly and ruffled the back of his head to cover up the movement. “So, how are you? I haven’t seen you in months. How’s your Uni so far?” He stumbled over his words and blushed faintly out of embarrassment.

“I’ve been good. I have something I want to tell you and I think it’s really important that you should know.” [y/n] smiled cheekily. That sentence made Chris’ heart stop, was he finally going to have his feelings returned and break free from this stupid disease?

“Yeah, go ahead. No secrets remember.” He smiled back, being a little too hopeful of the outcome.

“I got a boyfriend!” She gave him such a proud expression that Chris couldn’t help but give her a pained smile.

“Wow, who’s the lucky guy?” He attempted to swallow the upcoming batch of petals but had to turn away and cough it out into his backpack. Chris felt his heart lurch and it gave him goosebumps.

“His name is Eddie and he’s very kind, and sweet, and like a gentle giant type of guy.” She giggled at the thought of her boyfriend and smiled dreamily. “I’m sorry for making the build-up so dramatic Chris, I know how much you like me that way. But I think we should stay best friends.” [y/n] gave him such a heartbreaking smile that he couldn’t help but cough up a bulb into his bag.

“It’s fine [y/n]. Please don’t worry about that anymore.” He forced himself to say it out loud in hopes that it would become true.

“I have to go, got a test tomorrow. See you later.” Chris gave her one last smile before rushing out and heading back to the dorm, heart heavy.

-~-~-

Sitting on your bed at 11 pm and staring at the wall isn’t something recommended when you need to deal with your feelings and make sure you live another day. And for years Chris and [y/n] spent together, his feelings only became stronger as they matured into adults.

Chris knew that he would die soon, of course, there was the option of removing the disease surgically but his heart ached to keep it in until his last breath, wanting her to be his first and last love, believing that there was no one else in his life that could light up his life as she did.

Chris felt that it was all going to happen tonight. No. He knew it was going to. Pushing himself off the bed, he pulled out a box of goodbye and apology letter to his family and friends, as well as a USB with video files for his siblings, knowing that he wouldn’t be there for large scale celebrations. Chris pulled out one more box with teary eyes and placed it beside the other box. “To [y/n]” it read in cursive like it was a death present to the living.

With a shaky sigh, Chris reluctantly got into bed, conscious to the fact that he wasn’t going to wake up the next day

-~-~-

[y/n] swallowed hard and opened the small box in front of her, sobbing softly as she went through different pictures of them together, staining each one with her tears. However, at the bottom was a note Chris had written a few days before his death.

“I’m sorry you had to see me off like this. But know it’s not your fault, so please don’t blame yourself. Please live a long life and live it happily. Let’s hang out soon.

Love, Chris.”

#merry writes #ultkpop #kpopworksnet #stray kids #stray kids angst #bang chan #kpop fanfic #hanahaki au

[ohelleno]

Waking Sleep

A New Cycle

     Do you remember the first time you slept the whole night through? We’re not supposed to, but I can. Between their screaming matches, his putting holes in the walls, and her throwing whatever she can get her hands on at whomever is around, it’s impossible.

     Being in the crib was the worst -- at night I could only lay there, vulnerable and cold, right next to the tension between them. During the day, I was often forgotten there and left in a sleeping position until one set the alarm and then jerked a door or window open in anticipation of other sirens. There was nowhere to run. There was no way to shield my ears. I could do nothing but cycle through inborn responses. The first reaction was something somewhere between a scream and a smile, tears streaming down my face and staining the white sheets beneath. But the little wall-bound box of clamor was undaunted. I was so small -- how could I have stopped it? How could I have escaped to a safe place? Did some such thing even exist? What if it didn’t? With every note from the siren, I was pulled further into a cold pool. I was trading blasts now. With each one lost from my chest, it carried on even louder. I could no longer move. I was just a camera with no memory card, pointlessly recording life above me as I sank.

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Blinking, Drifting, Drowning

     As the evening progresses, they’ve taken to shutting me in my room. There’s nothing on the walls but a stark white crucifix. The closet is shallow and full of beloved toys and blankets that melt into inky, amorphous monsters. Changing outlines creep up the walls and onto the ceiling, trying to drown out the warm glow of the orangey nightlight. 

     Over the course of our few years together, we bonded over our see-through glass bodies. He didn’t change as the sun outside the blinds left us. Even so, the bulb inside of him has been flickering more and more. Our contact wires spark with each attempt to fight off the inevitable. Each flash is a brief death and with every submersion, the hanging man becomes a pendulum. Internal twine sparks to life and a shadow rises to an invisible point before falling as it disappears. Filament burns brightest when it cuts out for good. He gives me a spark more luminous than the first time he was plugged in and for a moment, the taunting corpse and the creeps return to their original forms. 

     But we all know what follows. The bulb has evenly, neatly, steadily given up. I cling to the wires conducting their last waves while the shadows stretch to their innermost depths. The hanged man’s grotesquely extended form retreats to the inflection point and stays there for a moment. And then we are all swallowed.

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A Present, I am Her Favorite Color

     By this point, I know that neither in nor out are safe, so out the door I go. There’s a linen alcove just outside and it’s there where she keeps the porcelain fairies. They are small and delicate. That’s all there is to them and they are the only thing I have to guard me. He would often rant that she wasn’t always like this. That when I was born and the doctor told her I was a girl, it was as if a latent obsession had blossomed with the thin petals sprouting from their shoulder blades. I wonder how long it will be before she grabs for them too. I’ve heard in passing that there used to be more of them, but now there are only three. When she reaches out, it is only to destroy. Just like her mother. 

     I come to the end of the narrow, blank hall where the path branches. There are other rooms -- other people’s lives and a staircase leading down. The rooms are sealed and locked; the people inside them are as sheltered as they can get. They are much older and when things get bad, they can simply leave. And even if they stayed, they would never be hit for fear that they would hit back. But I am much too small, even for my age, so I am a victim of circumstance. The heart is a bullseye and mine bounces off my little frame even more by comparison. Neither up nor down are safe so down I go.

     It’s Christmas day after all. Under the tree and among the boxes is where my bones are hidden. For now, they are connected. Useful. They change color with the lights and for a moment, I think that this is a safe haven. But the warmth always leaves with the hues that get caught in the needles. Voices spiral down the stairs and among the boughs. I am pulled out and unwrapped. The bow is fluid and graceful. It unravels and tangles around this body’s limbs the more that it is pulled. Who was I? How could I know?

     She delights in draining the red away and lacing me back up in white. For shoes meant to glide on top of ice, they feel like cement. They’ll keep me grounded in the depths where I can watch the light. This didn’t have to be her place, but it was. And now she’s made it mine. I wonder if I’ll ever be with the others in the light.

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A Note Before a Full Collapse...

     “What am I doing? Who am I? I’ve spent the past 20 years living someone else’s life. If I keep going, I’ll always be playing catch-up. I’ll never know who I am. But if I stop, you get the consolation prize of knowing that I couldn’t survive your abuse. You get to decide how to dispose of my body. It’s all I ever had.

     And the worst part is that it was for nothing. For all Your determination to use my body, we never got anywhere. It figures: as much as You were raping my frame void of my own identity, you didn’t have one of Your own to fill it with.

     Do you hear me? You never amounted to anything -- You’ll always be nobody. You took everything I had and gained nothing from it. Yet You keep trying. 

     Now I know why You do this. The empty glass bottles reached for under the couch, the years of your spine snaking and compacting to hide -- to invent somewhere to go: It’s what She did to You. The not-so-far-off rifle fire, the scarf tied over Her mouth to shut her up after finding stained faces in the crawlspace of Her family’s farmhouse -- to invent someone to blame: It’s what They did to Her.

     I want to believe that there’s some way to stop this. I know I’m not alone. You weren’t the only ones. We weren’t the only ones. When the body is in pieces, others will see this and I will live on through them!”

     A neighbor claims that he passed her in the hall on his way out for class. He said it looked as though she was hurrying towards the top floor. When we arrived, we found a surreal creature that looked to be a cross between a rag doll and an artist’s mannequin. At first, she looked languid and content to have joined with the asphalt. But when the coroner went to pick her up, she segmented at the joints and dissolved from his hands.

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...Or She Escaped on Impact

     “There’s a train leaving town in an hour. It’s not waiting for you and neither am I. That line has nagged at me as much as She has since I first heard it. I tried to ignore it, to act as though it was just a line in a song. And now we will forever be connected, each letter forming a fence around a face that was supposed to be my own in a book. Does anyone actually look back at these?

     I guess it wouldn’t matter. I don’t look like me. Why don’t I look like me?! Who am I? What am I supposed to look like!?

     It doesn’t have to be like this. I don’t have to get by just for them now. That piece of paper the principal handed me tells me so. If I’m just a body, then I can slip out the door and they would never find me. It doesn’t matter where I go -- I will be born into life after death. I will heed the song’s advice. I will do more than just survive for once; I will live regardless.”

     When I found her, she was folded in on herself under a row of seats. It was uncanny. Both trains were moving so fast when they met that everyone else in the first car was either a charred, vague suggestion of humanity or in too many pieces to ever tell which set of desperate loved ones they belonged to. If anyone knew who she was, she could have been identified. But not a single parent or brother or best friend had come forward demanding we tell them that a teenage girl had survived.

     I was hoping the diary clutched in her hands would tell me who she was. Unfortunately, all but one of the pages were as white and unstained as the small fingers that held them.

#short story #writing #full collapse #thursday #paper wings #rise against

[imagine-loki]

Never Enough

TITLE: Never Enough CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 17 AUTHOR: the-devil-herself ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine finding out that your soulmate is Loki and your very first kiss is interrupted by Thor shouting “Yeeessss” RATING: M NOTES/WARNINGS: TRIGGER WARNING: mention of infanticide and euthanasia. PLEASE PLEASE be careful reading this chapter as there is content on the murder of children and the disabled. Read with caution please! Can also be found on Ao3 here. 

Everything was dark. I couldn’t move or breathe; I felt like floating. I was in a timeless void, and I couldn’t get out.

Until I heard shouting.

Suddenly, my eyes popped open. I had to shut them again as the light violently shone on me. Not being able to escape from the light so easily, I raised my hand to cover the harsh fluorescent bulb above me.

“Dana, you’re awake!” I heard Tony. His voice was strained with exhaustion and worry. I peeped an eye open very slowly to see the dark shadows under his eyes. “Thank God, kid.”

A hand gently grabbed my other arm, giving it a squeeze. Thor was smiling at me, his eyes bright with joy and relief, but there was something else in them. I could only faintly see the desperation beneath them.

“What happened?” I croaked.

Nat handed me a glass full of water, which I accepted gratefully. Steve recalled to me last night’s events with Lorelei. Apparently, she had done no real damage to me, fortunately missing all the big arteries. She had escaped, of course, but Loki was currently in pursuit.

“He left only after he knew you were okay,” Thor whispered to me. My heart felt lighter at that, but it didn’t drown out my worry over him. Why was he so adamant on killing this woman? Yes, she was evil, but there were plenty of evil people in this universe.

“Clint and Bruce are trying to track her down as well, but so far, luck.” Nat refilled my glass, anticipating my needs expertly.

“And if they find her?” I asked.

Tony’s eyes were hard as he looked at a spot in the wall. “Then we destroy her.”

I spent the night under Tony and Thor’s watchful eyes. Nat and Steve would come in every now and then with food and water. However, the one person I really wanted here wasn’t around. My thoughts kept flipping to him and stressing over if he was okay or if he had found her.

I detailed hundreds of possibilities and scenarios of Loki finding Lorelei, that by the time he came back, I was so wound up with anxiety that I almost shot out of bed to hug him. Only Tony’s presence stopped that.

“What have you found?” Thor stood up to speak to Loki quietly, but the whole room was silent enough to where I could still hear them.

Loki shook his head. “Barely anything,” he hissed. “I do think I know where she’s headed, though.”

“Where?”

“She came to us,” Loki’s eyebrows were drawn together as he focused, “she’ll come to us again then. She needs something we have.”

Thor took a step forward. “And that is?”

“I should head to bed, kiddo,” Tony interrupted. He stretched in his chair before getting up and patting Thor on the back on his way out.

Loki’s eyes were drawn to me, and I instinctively wrapped my arms around myself. Thor noticed this subtle exchanging of looks and let himself outside. Loki slowly crossed the room to my bed and sat down on the chair Tony had vacated.

“I’m sorry I left you,” he whispered, his eyes turned downward in shame. “I just thought I might find her if I searched sooner.”

I shook my head. “It’s okay, I understand.” I put my hand over his without thinking, purely to calm him. His hand relaxed under my touch and brought his fingers through mine.

“She could’ve done much worse to you.” His hand suddenly bunched into a fist, and I could tell he was about to go into a blind rage.

I grabbed his hand again and placed it on my lap. “But she didn’t,” I pointed out.

He gave me a very weak smile before kissing the hand that held his. “I am immensely glad to see you okay, my little one.”

His face also looked taught and tired. I could tell he hadn’t slept either, nor did he plan to.

Dawn was coming through a bit a few hours later when Nat showed up with breakfast. Loki and I had separated ourselves, and he was seated across the room. She looked at him suspiciously but let it drop.

“You holding up alright?” she asked, a little smile showing on her face.

“So far.”

She handed me more toast, but I refused. “Dana, you need to eat more and gain your strength before we go kick the shit out of that witch,” she teased. I giggled at her joke, but I saw Loki stiffen immediately.

His hands clawed into his thighs as he tried to hold himself back. Something was up, and I needed to find out.

Once Nat left to go help Clint, I took the opportunity. “Why do you hate her so much?” I blurted.

Loki seemed startled at this outburst, but he swallowed and unclenched his hands. He came back to sit by me and tried to smile. “It’s nothing important,” he said quietly. Too quietly.

“Yes, it is,” I demanded. “Thor told me, okay? He told me you and her were engaged.”

Loki changed. His face went pale white, and it looked like a battle just went off in his head. “Aye, we were,” he muttered.

He didn’t say more only looking elsewhere for help. His eyes were scared and furious, his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he tried to swallow his words.

“Loki, please tell me!”

He stood up, startling me. “It is of no concern,” he shouted, glaring at me.

I shrank back in my covers at his fury. I had never seen him so angry, not even when he sent the Destroyer.

He realized his affect on me and softened his eyes. Running his hand down his face to clear his head, he apologized. “I’m sorry, little one, it’s just…”

“Just what?” I encouraged. To no avail. He sat down again and remained silent.

I couldn’t stand it anymore, the secrets, any of it. So, I kept prodding. “Thor said she killed a noble.” Loki’s face grew dark. “Did you know the person?”

He turned away from me for a long time, contemplating what to say next. When he finally turned around, his cheeks were wet with tears, and I knew he couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Aye, I did,” he whispered. I felt his hand reaching for mine and gave it without a word. “Lorelei and I were engaged, but she turned to darker magic.”

I had already known this part but listened intensely to him describe their early relationship. They both had felt like outsiders and seidr brought them together. Frigga had even treated her like a daughter. It was only common sense for them to have been together intimately.

But suddenly, she changed.

“She read a book, in the hidden depths of the library where no one ventured to,” he explained. “I had been there some times myself, but she had found a book on dark magic. Frigga had forbidden me to read it, and I respected her enough to listen. But Lorelei, she fell to it.”

She had become mean and agitated at the tiniest of things. She snapped at Loki more than once a day on inconsequential matters, and he had tried to reason with her.

“Nothing helped. Soon she started harming people. She would break a leg or drive a woman crazy, things that were too evil to be just simple pranks.

“She tried to pull me into it, and a little bit of it connected with me then. Of course, more of it would help me, well doom me, later.”

He paused, rubbing his left hand with his right—a nervous tick he had since he was a boy. “She got pregnant,” he breathed. I almost shot out of my bed, my heart had kicked so wildly. I couldn’t believe this, in fact, I wouldn’t!

“At this point she was downright cruel, but she chose to keep the child saying that her child would be as powerful as she, and we would rule as a family. I don’t know what she meant by that, maybe taking the throne of Asgard.

“Well, the pregnancy had complications, and the baby, my beautiful daughter, was born early and with severe disabilities. The healers assured us she would be fine, though.”

His eyes welled up once again as he relayed this part. “I told Lorelei, I kept telling her I would care for her and our daughter no matter what. I would always have them wanting for nothing.”

He took a break, clearing his eyes of tears. I gently ran my fingers over his cheek. “What was her name?”

He smiled faintly. “Her name was Sigyn,” he laughed. “Legends told of her as my beloved, but in the wrong way. She was my beloved, my gorgeous daughter.”

“Lorelei was not happy, though,” his whole body shook with this. “She was outraged that a baby of hers would be born not as powerful as she. But when I left one night to grab her food and more blankets, she…”

He didn’t need to finish. His fists were clenching the side of my bed as tried to regain himself, but it could not be done. He had let himself be shown to me, and his body wouldn’t stop now that the words were out.

My heart broke for him. I wanted to ease his pain, wipe his tears, do SOMETHING. But I could do nothing. A part of himself was ripped from him.

“Frigga and Odin kept it between ourselves,” he sobbed. ���We never told Thor or anyone else. We locked her away in the darkest corner on Asgard and kept her there for hundreds of years.”

I then understood his desire to hunt her down. She had taken away a precious piece of him for no reason at all. “So, your threat to her about dying alone, it’s because…”

“It’s because she had our baby die alone. Now she will come to feel that by my hand.”

#Loki #Lover #Angst #God of Mischief #Others #Imagine #Submitted fic #submission #Trigger warning #infanticide #euthanasia #the-devil-herself #chapter 17 #never enough

[fly-pow-bye]

DuckTales 2017 - “Who is Gizmoduck?”

Story by: Francisco Angones, Madison Bateman, Colleen Evanson, Christian Magalhaes, Bob Snow

Written by: Christian Magalhaes

Directed by: Tanner Johnson

Storyboard by: Emmy Cicirega, Ben Holm, Jason Reicher

It’s Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera, right? Well, it's a little more complicated than that.

The episode starts with Donald Duck trying to get a loan from the bank for the repairs for his houseboat. I'm assuming this is due to all that damage that shark did to it. This would be the perfect job for Donald, as he was able to take them on in a previous episode. If only he wasn't all tied up with one of those pens on a string.

Thankfully for everyone, at least at first, Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera was also in the bank trying to open an account. Right from the beginning, we're hinted at Fenton's financial situation: since he's an unpaid intern, he has to ask the bank if he can open an account with no money. After he accidently says his catchphrase while failing to hide from all of this, the suit activates. Sadly, there's no repeat of the amazing magical girl transformation sequence here.

Gizmoduck still pretty much beats everyone out of sheer luck, due to not having total control over his suit. The one time he tries to hit Bouncer Beagle with a pie, the hand just throws it on the ground.

It's not just incompetence: there's an internal Processor Core, represented on his interface as a Little Bulb. When he uses too many of his powers, it overloads and makes him spin around shooting lasers and pies everywhere. While this succeeds in making the Beagle Boys run off before getting a single dime out of the bank, this does destroy it.

Huey was there, and he was enamoured by all of this, as shown here. Not everyone else is happy, though. Because of this kind of destruction, Gizmoduck has a Spider-Man-like reputation when it comes to the media. Huey tries to tell Roxanne Featherly, the recurring anchorwoman, about how Gizmoduck is a hero and that he saved him, but this doesn't stop the news from calling him "Robo-Crook". Not a recurring theme.

This episode does not focus on Scrooge and the nephews, or even Donald as he just disappears into the "far more interested in repairing his houseboat than participating in adventures" void. Instead, the vast majority of this episode's focus is on Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera. It's a neat change from the usual.

Another hint at the financial situation is that he still lives with his mother; this reboot’s version of M'Ma Crackshell, who, according to the credits, everyone else calls Officer Cabrera. She's a police officer in this version, constantly carrying her badge. She speaks a few Spanish words, and is addicted to telanovelas, continuing from the original's addiction to soap operas.

This episode has a lot of slapstick even when he doesn't have the suit on. He has to juggle around a missile while talking to his mom, and having to use a stretchy arm to stop a pie from hitting her in the face. The pies are a running gag throughout the episode.

We cut to Mark Beaks, talking to one of his interns about how much he wants Gizmoduck. Okay, maybe that's not the best way to word that, but I'm keeping it. Because it wasn't hinted enough that this guy is a villain, he does all of this in the dark. Mark Beaks also builds an emblem with Waddle's logo on it. That may be the first thing he's ever built that isn't a smartphone app and/or stolen from someone in a while.

If you don't pay attention to the background, you'll miss out on some excellent foreshadowing. That's something that happens in this series a lot, and I appreciate it.

After that, we see Gyro training Fenton in the ways to use the suit. This only consists of reflex tests, which doesn't really excite Fenton. Unlike Fenton's dreams of being able to use Gizmoduck to save the world, Gyro only wanted him to do mundane tasks like lifting boxes to high places.

Gyro warns Fenton that he better not use the suit in a way that would make it go haywire, and make him lose all of his funding. Yeah, Gyro doesn't have any idea about the bank incident. The news crew didn't get a good shot at who this robo-crook looks like, but I would think this genius would be able to put two-and-two together. Fenton can hope that someone won't tell him about this amazing robotic hero who has tons of gizmos at his disposal...

...especially not when Gyro is having trouble with the Pep machine. That running gag will be as present as that guy from Lilo and Stitch’s ice cream falling to the ground. Gyro goes to the junkyard and finds Gizmoduck in the middle of a slapstick montage of him figuring out which gizmos are malfunctioning, and he's not too happy.

In the middle of all this, he accidentally fires a missile, which he has to chase after. Even he laments that this isn't a continuation of the pie joke, possibly caused by Gyro turning those down earlier in the episode. End scene, cut to commercial.

This missile almost ends up hitting a helicopter piloted by a certain someone everyone seems to know. This stranger he saves happens to be really excited about this, and says "yay" with glee as he is flown to safety. No surprise, since he happens to be...

...the memelord himself, Mark Beaks. As a thank you for saving him from the destroyed helicopter, he offers Gizmoduck a job opportunity. He tells him that the city doesn't exactly like him, and with his help, he can become the beloved hero of Duckburg he wanted to be. Or, in his exact words and convienent smartphone app...

Mark Beaks: See, right now, you're a bad meme.

Yeah, have you seen his new Gizmoduck Meme Generator? I will say this; this episode is by far his best appearance in my opinion. It is apparent in that earlier scene, but it will be even more apparent later in the episode.

Despite the huge job opportunity, he decides not to accept it, and flies away. I would almost think he would have taken it immediately after Gyro got angry at him, but it would seem a little out of character for him to immediately turn his back on.

However, it's not too out of character for the reboot's Gyro to turn his back on Fenton. Gyro and Little Bulb respond the best way they know how: by firing him and literally setting the suit on fire to start again on a suit that doesn't have gizmos. How he managed to know about the helicopter incident but not the bank incident is not really explained. Maybe Huey told him about it, too. That rascal.

The Headless Man Horse is there, too, still doing his one joke while wearing the Scrooge head. I think they're trying to make him a meme. Eh.

He says Blathering Blatherskite, and crashes through the walls and flies off to Waddle. A very disappointed Huey looks on, hinting at a future scene. Gyro apparently doesn't notice his suit he was going to incinerate just flew out of the building.

He comes back to Mark Beaks to seal the deal, as he doesn't have a job any more. Mark Beaks even rebrands him as Waddle Duck, as shown in a PowerPoint presentation. Things are looking up, not only can he be a hero, but he even gets some love from his M’Ma. She's glad that he is working at a real job at Waddle instead of an unpaid internship with Scrooge.

We get a true montage: not only does Waddleduck help out a variety of people with various mundane problems, it is all backed by a Waddle Duck theme that feels like it's straight out an 80's movie. This is even repeated at the end credits, giving us an alternate credits theme for the first time.

Ironically enough, this is pretty close to how Gyro wanted the suit to be used in the first place, and the simple tasks aren't complicated enough to make the suit go haywire.

One of the customers is Huey, who isn't too happy with Fenton's business decision. He uses the app to tell Waddleduck to throw away a piece of paper that represents his faith in him. Huey has every reason to not be a fan of Mark Beaks, either, as he experienced first-hand that he's a crook. He still uses their products, but that's pretty accurate to real life. There's a lot of reasons to not like Wal-Mart, but dammit, some businesses need cheap soap!

Eventually, he’s going to have a problem. While he's lifting up a car to help someone parallel park, Waddleduck notices that the Beagle Boys are robbing a poor family. Much like RoboCop, Waddleduck has some new directives: he can't save anyone unless they install the app and give all their details.

He goes up to Mark Beaks' office, clearly angered by the situation, to turn off the directive. His office happens to be in darkness in this scene, which hints that this is going to be the huge twist!

While I’m not going to delve too much into the big plot twists in this episode, I really need to talk about this particular one. Much like the last time I had to do this in the Goldie O'Gilt episode, it wasn’t even a matter of if, but when and how Mark Beaks’ plan is going to happen, but it's still a delight to see without me spoiling it to you. Watch the episode, it's good.

← From the Confidential Casefiles of Agent 22! 🦆 The Other Bin of Scrooge McDuck! →

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Ultimately, Mark Beaks decides that it wouldn't be great if someone else was the beloved hero, and taps a few things on his phone. He removes Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera as the owner of the suit, and puts himself in his place. He doesn't even have to say the codeword to take off Fenton's suit, that's the power of the Waddle emblem. Yeah, that's definitely not the best way to word that, but I'm keeping it.

He even gets his own transformation sequence, which is even more Sailor Moon than Fenton’s from Beware the B.U.D.D.Y. System! I guess two transformation sequences would have been too much.

The real Robo-Crook shows up at a press conference, and his first course of action is to show off his secret identity as Mark Beaks. He hasn't even done anything, and he's already a terrible superhero. Maybe he's just that confident in his guards. Huey doesn't buy it at all. He never does figure out who Gizmoduck is, which I was a little confused by until I realized he didn't even appear in Gizmoduck's debut episode.

One can probably guess how this will mess up for Mark Beaks. Even with all of his experience with it, Fenton Crackshell could barely control his super-suit. Mark Beaks got this suit a minute ago. He also decided to get rid of the directive that prevented the suit from using its gizmos to help anyone except people who have the app, so he has no restriction on how he uses its powers!

Sure enough, the same going haywire that happened to Fenton in the beginning happens to Mark Beaks here, minus the whole "stopping a bank robbery" thing. He was just showing off by firing lasers randomly and not really caring that its causing destruction, which is fitting for his character. They actually stop to show a scene where the smartphone he used to steal the suit gets run over by him bumbling around, causing the Waddle logo emblem to fall off of his chest. Without this scene, there would have been a plot hole later in the episode.

They have to resolve another issue, as well: that pesky Processor Core that's causing all of this. It's Huey that helps out in this situation, I won't spoil exactly how, but not before he gets into danger due to the malfunctioning suit. One of the lasers hits a billboard that he and Fenton's M'Ma happened to be under. In a heroic move, Fenton leaps towards the falling billboard, and, with intention this time, says the magic words.

It turns out that emblem was the only thing keeping Fenton, or anyone else who knows the secret passphrase, from stealing back the suit. I would have questioned how he was able to do this after getting hacked, but that scene I mentioned earlier does explain it quite well. Mark Beaks just kind of disappears after this; it's more than likely he'll get away with what he did being that he's rich. There's some nice development there. I will say that a scene at the end reminds me of a certain Batman movie to the point where it could be a reference to it.

Thankfully, it is not played straight, and it does end well for Fenton and anyone who wants to see more Gizmoduck. This is helped by an appearance of a character who you expected to see, swooping in at the last minute. Who is this sort-of Deus Ex "Machina" helping out the machina? Watch the episode to find out.

How does it stack up?

My expectations were simply to see more Gizmoduck, and this pretty much delivered. It's a good slice of the life of a superhero.

Another day, another bin, another Lena episode. Can't wait.

← From the Confidential Casefiles of Agent 22! 🦆 The Other Bin of Scrooge McDuck! →

#fpb dt 2017 #ducktales #ducktales 2017 #disney #fpb reviews

[nebula-starlight]

Corrupt (Part 16 - Union)

He saw the trail of burnt out lights and heard the staticky hum that followed Narssia’s abrupt exit, torn between his interest in the project and concern over her. Void was back and quite furious too if he felt the hint of her presence correctly. Sighing, he let his gaze drop to the floor, hands twitching slightly as flickers of red darted over the pale skin.

Knowing she had returned left him uneasy for a change. He had to protect the two humans... especially since neither had allowed their respective demon out since arriving at the empty warehouse. While Anti and Dark could take care of themselves, Nether wasn’t sure Void would be so particular in choosing her target. She tended to lash out blindly whenever she had control and cared little about who got hurt in the process.

He looked up, using one hand to push back the hood of his jacket as he heard the faint hum of static grow louder seconds before either Jack or Mark did. Once one of them called for a brief break - to figure out what was going on no doubt - he slowly approached with the intent of providing any aid he could. It was only when he reached them that the power suddenly cut out, plunging the whole building into darkness.

Nether couldn’t quite see at first but he heard one of the men reach for their phone, only recognizing which one it was when, seconds later, several curses tinged with an Irish accent graced his hearing. Void was learning, he realized as his eyes glowed a dull red to provide what little light he could without too much risk of backlash. It was a trait he’d kept from his life as a spirit, now suddenly useful in the wake of the power outage.

“Mind telling your girlfriend there to cut it out with the theatrics? We didn’t have much time to get this shot anyway and now she decides to-“

His patience wearing thin, Nether’s low growl was all it took to silence Mark, letting his aura briefly manifest for added emphasis to be silent. He would deal with any recoil there was for using his abilities later. If he knew Void as well as he thought though, then she had something big in mind to be expending so much energy. Then again, she had likely just escaped from Dark and probably needed to let off some steam. Either way, a part of him was eager to see what she had planned.

Several seconds passed before he heard it - a chuckle that started soft, hiccuping every so often with a slight glitch as the sound made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Void wasn’t like this normally... She was never one to plan out anything, often acting in the spur of the moment. It was truly a trait he both adored and equally despised in her. Glitching or not, he preferred a more direct confrontation.

It seemed like an eternity passed before the sound faded away, only for an eerily familiar wheeze to brush against his ear, one Nether had only heard once before from her. It had been back when she was starting to take over Narssia - right after he dropped Geer mid-flight if he remembered correctly. Thinking back on the event, he probably shouldn’t have blindly trusted that Void’s emerging presence would make her host more determined to save the only drake she trusted. It was a careless risk... but it had paid off tremendously well in the end.

Mildly concerned that she wasn’t alright, he almost started to go look for her but decided it would be better to stay with the humans as static buzzed fiercely above their heads. He glared down the dark hallway that he knew Narssia had fled into, silently hoping he wasn’t walking right into another impossible choice. Doing what he did to Versi all those years ago had scarred him deeply and yet, being around Geer had somehow started to soften the shell of apathy he had ultimately constructed around his heart after ending her life. It had been the only way to stop the corruption... At least he thought so at the time, believing those lies back then. Now he knew he would have found a different way.

“She’s here, isn’t she? The one you call the other half of your soul.” Jack whispered questioningly, glancing off in the direction of the corridor nervously before his eyes returned to Nether.

He nodded, too distracted by his thoughts to respond at first. When he did, however, there was no compassion in the low growl that rumbled in the base of his throat. “Aye, the hollow, corrupted, broken form of mine beloved Versi. I do believe Mark knows of her by a different name though. Or is it Dark that has met Void? Either way, I’m certain she won’t keep us waiting long. She has little patience after all.”

“Were you expecting something grander?”

Her mocking voice echoed around them, each syllable left hanging in the air as Void still evaded their vision but made her presence undeniably known. Static crackled in her wake, far too loud for the two humans as they cringed, hands desperately rising in an attempt to protect their hearing. Nether, while mildly annoyed, wasn’t affected by her ploy, instead taking a step forward to draw her attention.

“Come now, you want your chance to get back at me. What are you waiting for, dearest? I’m right here.”

He felt Geer try to move in the back of his mind, imagining how the drake would likely lecture him on how his taunt would only infuriate her further, but quickly silenced the unwanted criticism before it began with barely any effort. Why should he have to listen to the worthless creature who only existed to safely harbor his spirit? It had been nearly two years since he took over for the first time and he still allowed the true owner of the body to live for what purpose other than to constantly distract him.

“Oh, don’t worry. You’ll get your turn in due time but first...” She paused, her words sliding into a soft hiss that sent chills down his spine. Nether couldn’t ignore her strange behavior any longer. Void was completely out of her mind now! It did continue to interest him though - no doubt a byproduct of half of his core being her own.

Mark suddenly stumbled, falling to one knee as his hands went to his leg in panic. Several sickly greenish-black spots appeared and begun to spread across the once healthy flesh, devouring even the material of his pants. At the same time, Nether watched as a faint mist appeared around Jack’s hands that seemed to drain away what color they did have until they turned gray. It was only when he heard the telltale crack of bones breaking that he realized in horror what the corrupt spirit was doing. Swarm the body with traumatic agony to immobilize the mind, effectively freezing the person in place while they tried to make sense of why and where exactly the pain was coming from. Ironically enough, he had done nearly the same thing when he confronted her.

“Void, stop it! Jack and Mark are innocent in all this!” He spread his arms out, hoping to draw in her focus so the two could escape. “Break every bone in my body if you want but leave them alone.”

The sound of her amused chuckle reverberated throughout the room, effectively silencing his plea. “Now what fun would that be to only have one toy? You know... your begging is becoming tiresome. How about I give you a choice? If you don’t shut your mouth I’ll gut one of them right now.” Her voice fell to a soft whisper, more mocking than anything as her next words breathed quietly into Nether’s ear, “Then again, I could always use a new puppet to break.”

He repressed the urge to shudder, barely managing to keep his expression neutral before a single light flickered on at the opposite end of the hall. Although the bulb was threatening to go out as it precariously flickered, the meager amount of illumination it provided was still enough to shine down on the frail looking human standing underneath as she lifted her head, one glowing green iris visible through the curtain of dark, tangled hair. Nether took a step back, still shielding the two Youtubers from her as a concerned growl rumbled in the back of his throat. She had never used innocents to trap him before - even after her very first appearance nearly ended in bloodshed. It concerned him to see her so... damaged. What had Dark done to her?

“Choose wisely, Red.”

He flinched at the words, knowing instantly they weren’t coming from a mentally sound spirit at all. She only called him that when she didn’t remember his name and even then she’d usually make some kind of attempt to coax it out of her shattered mind before resorting to the degrading term. Glancing briefly at Mark and Jack, he quickly realized that he would have to do this alone. Neither of them were in any condition to aid him or even try to run. Had she planned it from the very beginning? If so, he wasn’t sure he liked what else she had in store for them...

“For once you listen. Not that you did much of that before,” she snarled, taking a step forward as she all but disappeared back into the shadows. The glow of her eye was all he could see, noticing how the faintest hint of a wispy trail started to develop before she seemed to reign herself back in and continue. “Oh, did I hurt your feelings? You know better than anyone what to do with emotions you don’t want, am I right?”

Nether stood his ground, gaze flickering briefly in indecision before he sighed and let his arms fall by his side. Every word she said was true. He’d pushed her away all those years ago and then paid the terrible price...

“Go ahead, take a stab at me. Pity you don’t have those claws anymore though. I bet this neck would open up even quicker than what you had to cut through the first time.” She giggled, one finger quickly tracing along her throat as the sound sent a chill down his spine.

He took a step back, breath quickening as he heard Jack beside him trying to stifle a scream as the bones of his forearms started to splinter. How was she doing this? He was the one with illusionary magic so how...? The static. She was using it to infiltrate into their heads and corrupt what they saw. Then how did that account for him being able to see it as well?

“Choices, choices. Do you save the mortals or do you sacrifice yourself like the hero you thought you once were? Time to make your decision.”

Nether shook his head, a desperate growl rising from his throat in dismay. This wasn’t right at all! Void... Something had happened to her during the time they had been apart. He just didn’t know what and it frustrated him.

Shadows suddenly seemed to spin around him, the entire fury of her white noise slamming down on him as he stumbled back before falling to his knees. Pain... so much pain. Deep dark down - soul cracking under strain. He had to hold it- no, hold himself together. Keep Geer confined... keep the nausea at bay...

Fingers trembled as he buried one hand into his hair, hoping some measure of self-inflicted pain would ground him as his eyes squeezed shut. He could already feel his left hand twitching, the first of several symptoms he had fervently hoped would not appear. With Void’s reappearance, he wondered just how bad things would become. No doubt what he suffered through was a result of his controlling of the body without release for months. While he could survive on energy alone, the frail form he inhabited required more effort to maintain and his presence already put a strain on it to begin with.

Void said nothing, the only sound filling the room being the crackle of her subconsciously emitted static. He knew she had something planned but her methods weren’t normal at all. Almost as if there was a reversal of personality... unpredictably becoming calculated and composed. That wasn’t her normal strategy, if she even had one at times.

An unexpected wave of dizziness suddenly washed over him, nearly making him pass out as he started to fall back. The only thing that kept him upright, though, was a slim hand slipping around his wrist as a soft, higher pitched growl rose in warning.

“Show some resistance here, won’t you? It’s not like I plan to kill you with witnesses present after all. No, I have more I want to do and for that... Well, why don’t we make this a bit more private?”

Her words brushed against his ear in a soft hiss, soon followed by a familiar rush of energy not unlike his own aural flares. The surge passed harmlessly through Nether, only briefly pining him in place before he heard two definitively loud thumps in the distance. He wanted to check on the two Youtubers, almost certain they’d been the target but she refused to let go even as the dizziness passed.

He glared up at her, noticing the wispy trail of aura leak from her eye as the energy she expended faded away into a comfortable silence. The hand that wasn’t around his wrist was trembling, sparks of green dripping from her palm before she snarled and jerked away. The noise had left, likely pulled back into her being after giving him a taste of what she constantly felt on a daily basis.

“You normally aren’t this quiet.” He remarked, cautiously rising to his feet as her outstretched arm fell back by her side. “The last time I remember you being like-“

“How do you stand it?”

The hushed question caught him off guard, causing whatever words he had been planning to say to fall silent on his tongue in shock as he stared at her. Void refused to meet his gaze, however, staring down at the floor as she wrapped a fraying string from her dark tunic around a finger mindlessly. Her shoulders were hunched, posture no longer in the pristine stance he’d seen earlier upon her initial reveal.

“What?”

Void looked up in confusion at first, the one green iris he could see strangely dark as the wispy aural trail faded. “You heard me. How do you stand hearing His thoughts over and over like a broken record?”

Nether hesitated, unsure at first about who she was referring to with her rather cryptic question. He wanted to ask for more details but feared he’d throw her shaky sanity completely off the rails. Yet if he did nothing, he firmly expected she’d lash out at him for taking his time dissecting a simple inquiry. It had happened before after all and he knew answer or not that there was a part of her that still wanted revenge on him.

Almost as if he’d predicted it, she turned and grabbed at his throat with a single hand. Her fingernails dug into the soft flesh as he made no attempt to resist and struggled for a full breath, the hiss of her static returning in the background. The anger was something he expected from her, familiar even by the sheer number of times Void had lashed out.

“You had your chance!” She spat, pulling him closer before a brief tremor caused her to momentarily glitch in place. Her form distorted, scattering several images of her broken and equally twisted before she composed herself with a frustrated huff. “You had ample opportunities to fix what went wrong but you didn’t. Even when I first awoke in that draconian... You did nothing! Is this all just some twisted game of yours?”

He heard the pleading in her voice as it broke, knowing for certain that wasn’t normal. She hadn’t expressed any form of sorrow around him for years, usually either rage or blissful innocence. It was unfortunate that she hid her instability so much to the point of it causing her emotional and even mental pain on top of what she already endured. The torture she’d suffered because of Dark had weakened her no doubt, but also curiously aroused the limited magic she had.

The familiar warmth of his aura brought Nether out of his thoughts, eyes flickering down towards his palm to see the crimson glow crackle like a flame. He noticed Void watching, scowling in an obvious attempt to mask her underlying fear of his abilities before she shoved him away. Stumbling back, he tried to conceal the tremor that made his hands shake but heard in her low hiss that she’d seen the sign of his prolonged control. Whether she actually knew what it meant, he wasn’t sure.

“You actually did it. Shut him out, I mean.” She sighed, the sound more than proving to him that she was aware of what was happening. “And now it’s destroying you from the inside, isn’t it? The tremors and nausea, even the frequent paralyzing nightmares...”

Nether scowled, eyes flashing a bright red in equal parts embarrassment and irritation that she would dare to calmly lay out every symptom he’d experienced over the last few months. Just what gave her the right to openly expose that part of his daily life? He’d tried to hide the evidence as best he could while feeling like he was in a barely functioning state of limbo between sleeplessness and starvation. Rest hadn’t come naturally in months and eating, well... that was only reserved for when he felt like he was about to pass out. Even then sometimes it was a struggle to get a few bites of food down before he had to rush off to the bathroom.

Standing together with her in the darkness, Void’s eyes suddenly seemed too bright, too much like the yellow his beloved Versi’s had originally been. Nether coughed, trying to clear his throat but the action didn’t help how rough his voice sounded.

“How... how long have you known?”

“Long enough.” He watched as she looked away, one hand clenching into a fist before she violently glitched in place again. “I spent several days free before I ever made my reappearance known... Lucky for you, you got to see it first hand.” She chuckled softly, shaking her head before finally meeting his concerned gaze. “I too had secrets to hide from those around me. You see, Dark persuaded me to aid him back on Valentine’s Day with crashing what Mark had planned. I agreed to help and before I knew it he was forcing Naris to choose. Either shoot Mark or... myself.”

Nether was drawn into the story she told, completely unaware at first of the severity of the situation but still found himself starting forward the minute he noticed her wobble unsteadily before starting to collapse. He caught her gently by the shoulders, steadying her close to him before looking around in a desperate search for help. Remembering that they were now alone, he sighed and ultimately settled his gaze back on Void to watch as her fingers slowly lifted away from the side of her head. He hadn’t a clue as to when she’d found the time to move her hand into that position but decided it didn’t matter as he saw the blood dripping down from the now visible bullethole in her temple.

“She shot you.”

Nether hesitated, still in shock as his voice barely rose above a whisper in dread at the thought of what damage the bullet could have done with it lodged in her brain for months. It made sense... all the changes to her personality quirks at least. Why hadn’t she told anyone?! Even more pressing though, how much had it ricocheted onto Narssia? Had she been affected in any way by the bullet or had the corrupt spirit held the severity of the grave wound back for once?

A weak nod was all the respond he got at first, his hands quivering so much he feared he would drop her. They were both dying. He’d come to the acceptance now that Geer’s body was finally giving out - no matter how hard he tried to pour energy into it. Now he learned Void had taken a gunshot wound to the head months ago and hidden it under multiple layers of her static interference to conceal any negative side effects...

“Don’t do this to me,” he snarled, aura flaring out brightly around him before she jerked and spasmed uncontrollably in his arms. Her weak cry afterwards left him numb, bringing to the surface too many memories that he had tried countless times to forget.

“I... I didn’t plan on saying anything but when I... When I took control her head smacked against the counter and... The bullet must have been jostled.” She barely got the words out, her voice breaking every so often as she stuttered frequently. There had been more damage than he expected and now he was seeing firsthand how the light was fading from her eyes.

Holding her tighter, he gently hushed her, blowing some of her hair back with a soft huff to quickly see both eyes. Her left, which had been hidden during her reappearance, was cloudy... the murky greenish-yellow orb trying and failing to focus on him. Nether let the dark, messy curtain of hair fall back over it without a word, suddenly finding himself unable to meet her one working eye in guilt. He should have realized sooner that something was wrong. Why hadn’t he seen the signs?

“Void, I- No, no, you don’t deserve to hear me make excuses now. My dearest Versi listen to me.” His grip on her shoulders tightened, making sure they were at eye level with each other. She hissed softly in protest but he ignored her discomfort, knowing he had to say this before she passed out or worse.

“I still love you, no matter how you’ve changed. Glitching or not, you hold half of my soul and that is not a light matter. We are forever bonded, together as one by the Ancients. A soul’s decay affects both and if one goes well...” Nether paused for a moment, chuckling softly to himself. “I used to think both would die but you proved all those rules wrong. Do it again, my beloved. I know someone who can help you and I can keep you sedated with illusions if you like. It doesn’t have to end like this for either of us.”

“I appreciate the thought but... I think we should consider what would happen. Brain damage doesn’t... doesn’t heal overnight.”

Nether frowned, having hoped Void would take him up on the offer. He hadn’t seen much of the German doctor who hung around Jack but he had at least heard about him. Funny how the man shared his native tongue though.

“Nein, it doesn’t but we promised each other neimals allen.”

Void twitched again, having to make an effort to keep her gaze on him. “I’ve told you before to stop spouting off words I don’t know!”

“You knew it once, dearest.” He corrected her, aura shimmering slightly against his skin. “We’d spend hours watching the sunset together with the promise that we would never be alone.”

“That was a different time. We weren’t so damaged back then.” She hissed softly under her breath, her one good eye flickering in exhaustion. “Just accept it. Let me go.”

Nether shook his head in refusal, moving her so that one of her arms was across his shoulder so he could stroke her cheek. He couldn’t change her mind. Void had made her decision a while ago he suspected and yet it still hurt him to obey her request. It wasn’t supposed to end like this!

“If that’s what you want,” he muttered softly, refusing to meet her gaze as her body quivered slightly.

“It is. Naris won’t survive - no matter what I do. I kept it hidden to protect her. But now I- I can’t feel it.” Void shook her head gently, leaning more against Nether to continue standing. “When I held it with my magic I could feel the cold steel. Even if I try to keep it from her now, we do share a mind. What affects one also impacts-“

“Impacts the other,” Nether finished for her as she grimaced and tried to reach for her head with the hand that wasn’t over his shoulder. He knew the expression she fought to hide, knowing how much she hated being in pain. It was his fault after all. He’d left her alone so often when they were alive and then she became Corrupted...

He tried to force a smile, tipping her head up with the gentlest push on her chin he could manage. They would make it out of this. He spent centuries thinking she was dead and she, in that same amount of time, had lost herself to the pain that became her existence. Void was his creation... Versi’s broken mind fixating on nothing more than getting revenge. That was why she attacked him so viciously the first time she ever took control over Narssia. She’d never said so but he’d seen the look in her eyes as she pinned him against a wall with a surge of static. Even her first audible words had been directed at him - ‘You did this.’

“Love blinded you.”

He heard her soft murmur but thought nothing of it, only noticing when something sharp pierced his stomach. His breath came out as a gasping croak, too shocked to see the small upturn of her lips as Void’s gaze stayed firmly on him even though the small dagger she’d summoned was currently embedded up to the hilt in his body.

“Too trusting... Too easy to manipulate even at the end.” Her grin spread, baring her teeth as she twisted the blade to further his misery before angrily ripping it out. “Do say hello to Geer for me though. I’m sure Naris will join him soon enough.”

He stumbled back, one hand going to the wound in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding while his other reached out to her in confusion. Why would she use what dwindling strength she had to stab him? While it was true that revenge had been her goal at first, he honestly thought she’d gotten past that... Narssia should have been a good influence on her unless... unless Void’s presence had overwhelmed her host.

He remembered reading the letters Geer had received at first, marveling at how she described her life falling apart around her as something clawed away at her brain. It wasn’t too far off from the truth to be honest... He remembered well trying to break his host, conjuring illusions whenever he could to distort what the drake saw. Even then, all it took was a promise of flight to a crippled beast to worm his way in.

Nether grimaced, falling to his knees as his aura swelled and expanded around him. She hadn’t... Void hadn’t used his devotion to her against him, had she? This wasn’t supposed to be how it ended!

Tears filled his eyes, barely able to look at her as he let out a shuddering breath. The pain was worse now, only added to by the presence of his magic as it tore away at his core. He never imagined she would actually get the revenge he knew she had longed for while being trapped in the space between life and death.

She glared at him, her one good eye glowing brightly as she approached, bloody knife still in her hand. He looked up, searching her gaze desperately with hope that there was even just a shred of the good spirit that she had been. The soft hiss of static filled his ears as she vanished in a flurry of glitches before his world went dark for the final time.

The blade fell from her grasp as she finished carving it across his neck after aggressively stabbing into his breastbone several times to ensure she ruined both soul and body. Neither Geer or Nether would be able to recover from this - a fact that made her smile as she silently watched him topple to the floor lifeless. She had no remorse for what had been done, hearing Narssia scream out in rage and grief from the back of her mind. A soft snicker escaped her as she bent to retrieve the weapon, admiring the blood splattered steel as she causally spun it around in her hand. Revenge had always been her goal from the start but she hid it from his prying eyes, knowing she’d one day get her chance.

Her chuckle gradually turned into full blown laughter at the realization she was free. Finally after countless centuries of always fearing he’d track her down and finish the job, now she no longer had to worry about what lurked behind her. All those nightmares that kept her awake for hours at a time...

How... How could you do that?! You heartless monster!

Void grinned, continuing to twirl her knife mindlessly as she reigned herself back in. How disappointing she wasn’t alone any longer. It had been rather pleasant considering the circumstances. Well... look who decided to wake up after all the fun was over. I’m not the monster here, Naris. Tell me this - Whose body do I have possession of? Whose hand drew the knife across his throat? Her one working eye narrowed, wispy trails of green mist appearing as she stopped toying with the blade and gestured towards the corpse laying before her. You are the one responsible for killing them, not I.

Narssia whimpered, seeming to retreat further away into their shared head as Void looked down at the knife expectantly. She knew what option she would have taken years ago before she became her glitchy self but did Naris have the guts to do what was right?

No... I... I can’t...

You said that last time but guess who shot me- us rather. Sweet little innocent Naris isn’t as pure as everyone thinks now is she? You know what will await you otherwise so do it already! Or is a slow painful death stuck in a padded cell with only me for company more to your liking?

Her patience running thin, Void squeezed the hilt of the weapon, threatening to break it in half or even carry out the deed herself. That naive host of hers just needed to accept what had happened and end their suffering. In fact, why shouldn’t she let Narssia feel every second of pain she endured while under Dark’s torture. That would speed up the process even quicker...

Void had only just closed her eyes when she felt it, the slight tremor of metal moving in her hand that hadn’t been caused by her. She smirked, deciding to act like she hadn’t noticed it as the knife rattled more with Naris trying to break free long enough to grab hold of it.

You can’t bare to be without him, she remarked, hoping to infuriate her host enough to force the blade into her heart. He’s your lifeblood in a sense. Geer kept you from going under when I first appeared and we both know you’re blaming yourself deep down for even accepting my presence.

No, I... I don’t hate you for the monster you are, Void. Nether did that to you and you were determined enough to make him bleed the same way you had. I only wish Geer had been able to see me one last time.

She rolled her shoulders, kicking the corpse before her with a huff. That can be arranged.

Void, NO!

As she started to kneel down the knife twitched again before she jerked back, eye going wide at the glimmer of blood-coated steel sticking out of her throat. Narssia had actually done it! Of course the aim had been rather off but to think that all she had to do was pick away at the feeble resolve and the task would be done for her. She stumbled back, falling to the ground as she started to reach for the weapon. Already her breathing was becoming more difficult, a sick gurgling filling the quiet space as air mixed with the blood that oozed down her neck.

Why? She tried to growl but ended up gasping for breath, doubling over from lack of sufficient oxygen intake.

You took him away from me. Narssia remarked coldly as Void managed to pull the knife out of her throat but almost immediately dropped it. As much as I said I don’t hate you, I truly hope there’s a hell for spirits like you.

She tried to retaliate with a snarky remark once she had her breath back but before she could her form violently glitched, slowly scattering before coming back together more stable with her eyes closed. Gradually the softer irises opened, letting out pale light tinged with green accents as she wondered why there was blood on her neck and why her head-

Her agonized screech caused a fresh surge of static to engulf the space around her, panic briefly bringing her back to awareness of the situation. Nether was dead, she killed him the same way he’d taken care of her back when she was but a lowly healer. How? Why had she claimed his life? She wasn’t a monster... She wouldn’t hurt anyone!

Void... The sudden timid voice coming from inside her head that definitely wasn’t her own startled her, making her shrink back as she clamped one hand around her throat.

Assess the damage, stop the bleeding, disinfect the wound and wrap it in cloth... 

Her medical training came back to her in spurts, leading her to rip open the shirt she had on and take it off to leave her sleeveless in a simple grey tank top that was slowly getting stained darker. She could tell the wound was deep, dark red drops of her life force getting on her hands whenever she tried to inspect the injury by feel. How had she been stabbed? There was no one around her except a corpse... Had she killed the other inhabitant of the room?!

No, no, no.... This was all a dream! She would wake up soon enough. Just had to focus on patching up her neck right now. Nothing could distract her...

Void? It’s okay, calm down. You’re confused right now. Just let me explain and everything will make sense.

That voice again! She shook her head, air gurgling in her throat as she tried to speak but couldn’t. Not now when she had to stop the bleeding! She could figure out what was going on later once her head stopped pounding.

Her hands shook as she tied the makeshift bandage across her throat, the green top immediately starting to darken into a bloody black as her continued panic only made the bleeding worse. At this rate she was going she’d pass out from loss of blood before too much longer.

Who are you? She forcefully searched for the strange voice in her mind, sitting down next to the body she didn’t know.

I am or rather was the original owner of the body you currently inhabit. You took control and- Narssia hesitantly began only to stop mid-explanation as she realized that who she spoke to was no longer just the bitter revenge-driven spirit. You... You’re Versi, aren’t you?

A tiny smile blossomed on her face in recognition of the name, eyes lighting up to a more visibly vibrant yellow. Indeed but alas I can also feel that no longer am I merely one. How did I end up in this place?

It’s a long story. I see you found Net- I mean I see you found Geer’s body. Terrible tragedy that was. The killer ran off just before you came.

Versi frowned, her head tilting to the side in an action that made Narssia shudder slightly at how similar it was to Nether. While lying wasn’t right, she had a feeling that telling the healer the truth would do more harm than good.

‘Tis odd, there were no footprints. The knife had blood on it as well... Versi’s words slurred, much to Narssia’s dismay as she tried to reach out to the dying spirit in comfort. Death was coming quicker than expected and yet she, at least, welcomed it.

Just rest, okay. I’m sure Nether will be coming soon. It hurt her to address the manipulative spirit as though he was a caring creature when she had never seen any indication of him being anything other than a monster specializing in illusions. Then again, she knew every being had numerous quirks to their personality. Perhaps he’d only become bitter after hurting Void- or Versi rather. Oh, before I forget, he had a message to pass along to you. Neimals allen, I believe. I don’t speak his tongue well but...

Versi chuckled softly, breaking off to cough after a moment as blood continued to ooze from her neck wound. Always the suave charmer he is... It’s one of the few phrases that I know in his tongue actually, thanks to him. Never alone... It was our anthem of affirmation, that no matter what trials came we would face them together.

How sweet. He seemed like a good fit for you, Versi.

Indeed he was. I trusted him with my life and we were going to- Versi stopped, eyes flickering with the faintest shimmer of green as Narssia started to slip back into the deep recesses of their shared mind. He took it from me! He selfishly robbed me of that chance to be happy for once. I- I know I killed him. You stopped me- no, her- no, us from taking more innocent lives.

The healer timidly lifted the knife once more, turning it around and holding it right over the top of her breastbone where her soul resided. She was so tired... Why couldn’t this creature calling itself Narssia go away so she could sleep? Then again, exhaustion was a sign of too much blood loss.

Now I see no other option but to finish this myself. I survived because of my hatred the first time and look whether that got me - it turned me into a monster. Versi hesitated, glancing over at Geer’s body in recognition of who had once resided within it. Peace, Nethreis, my love, I shall join thee shortly. Bare no ill will towards this vessel of mine for she did naught wrong.

Jamais seul, mon amour. Her breath shuddered, shoulders tensed as she brought the steel down...

#corrupt #corrupt nether #corrupt void #jacksepticeye #markiplier #i gave you fair warning #heavy on the feels #necessary end

[curious-minx]

On Bob’s Burger’s Gene learns to be a sweeter Mama’s Boy; The Simpsons rediscovers its heart by showing empathy to a struggling teacher.

Mama’s Boy is possibly one of my favorite Ramones song, at least the one I’m most obsessed with.  A track written sporting writing credits for all three Ramones. This fact really answers the age old riddle fo how many  Ramones  it takesto change a light bulb. There’s no question about it if the Ramones were still alive and kicking they probably would be cameoing in all sorts of animated shows and would be a Wonder Wharf regular. Episode 9, “Mama’ Boy” not only focuses on Gene’s wholesome adoration of his Mama,  but also makes a clear point of demonstrating how the Belcher’s challenge conventional gender norms. If I grew up with a dad like Bob Belcher, a man who is more than willing to get into a tub with me for a spa day I’d probably be a more productive citizen. The episode strongly packs in three whole subplots with Gene and Linda’s weekly “Spa Day” ritual being interrupted by Linda joining a Women’s Business Owner Group, Bob trying to be a substitute for Gene, and then Louise and Tina getting transfixed by a clever Rocky rip-off, Ham & Egger. The boys want a seaweed eucalyptus infused face mask and the girls want to brawl, a sweet and subtle commentary that is done with that effortless Bob’s Burgers charm. 

The main conflict between Gene and Linda is fraught with family psychology. Linda emboldening her only son’s clinginess with her gentle form of favoritism that threatens to mutate’s Gene’s cute Mama Boy into an emotional manipulative, controlling and abusive Mama’s Boy. This is one of the rare instances where Gene is essentially the antagonistic force of the episode, a role often bestowed upon every other Belcher but rarely reliable supporting player Gene. Gene’s antics are more than just his usual little stinker business and at moments threatens to veer off into Norman Bates territory when he fears that he’s losing his mom to the Business World. Thankfully, Gene is a thoughtful and lovable boy that experiences flashes of introspection, experiences self-realization and catches himself from going off the deep-end. The episode ends with Gene and Linda still enjoying a slightly inappropriate, but ultimately sweet relationship where boundaries are starting to further establish themselves, but I do worry for whomever ends up with Gene as a partner later in life. 

Ah! My favorite high school based musical, Sunday School Musical

The episode’s subplot with Louise and Tina is a great writing lesson, a clean how-to on writing a quality parody. The whole subplot is basically mapping elements of Rocky and making them slightly cheaper and sillier Ham & Egger versions. The subplot touches upon a very specific experience of childhood when you stumble upon a lesser, knock-off movie on cable before seeing the original version, therefore making the cheaper version the definitive version in your naive mind. The subplot also serves as a fun contrast/reversal with Gene’s arc, two daughters being more interested in rough housing and watching junky TV, whereas the son is clinging onto a more traditionally feminine activity. The show hasn’t been this progressive since its explorations with Tina and her explorations of a healthy sense of sexuality. The reason why these issues work so well on Bob’s Burgers is because the writer’s never draw attention to them or try to pat themselves on the back like other lesser sitcoms tend to do, and because after 11 seasons audiences have been given a lot of opportunities to bond and appreciate each and every Belcher. Every single Belcher is capable of delivering a solid episode and whenever I pick up on whether or not an episode is going to focus on a specific character or character relationship on Bob’s Burgers I am more or less satisfied with the direction the writers and actors make with this beloved TV family. 

4.5 Spools of Yarn as thick punchable yarn out of 5 thick and punchable slabs of meat. 

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News update in the Bob’s Burgers world: The Belcher family is officially losing its Fox TV status and gaining FX personhood. This ultimately changes both a little and a lot, the biggest impact of the change is that Bob’s Burgers will be removed from adult swim syndication. Bob’s Burgers is ultimately in the clear for however much longer the series wishes to stay on air. This change in syndication is mainly worrisome for the state of adult swim, which will at this point go completely under due to financial straits or assimilate itself into the HBO Max roster. The adult swim brand is still fairly strong one and as long as they have Rick and Morty to cling onto they will still have a cash cow to sustain them. If adult swim collapses we will be losing one of the last bastions for weird and creative TV programming and will be left with nothing but a sea of Disney detritus. 

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 Search result for a stock image of a “Sad Teacher” 

Speaking of Disney Detritus, it’s time for another peek back into the Simpsons brood with its 9th episode, “Sorry Not Sorry.” The episode for the most part is the most conventional episode of an exhaustingly highly conceptual season. The quality of the episode is probably due to the fact that the episode isn’t written by another one of the safe old white Harvard guys the series is doomed to forever employ, but instead, this above average episode is written by an  Ivy League woman and  1996 Subrina the Teenage Witch creator Nell Scovell. Go figure, the Simpsons enormously benefits from diverting from the usual white male voice that dominates the massive bulk of Simpsons screenwriting credits. The main reason I got back into watching the Simpsons in the first place was when I saw that slightly problematic Twitter rising start Megan Amram had written a couple of episodes for its 30th season. For me, this indicated the exact type of tone shifting the Simpsons needed to course correct itself from its perennial slump. Both of Amram’s episodes are fantastic, especially “Bart versus Itchy and Scratchy.”

The typical writer for the Simpsons 

This gender disparity in the Simpsons verse led my curiosity over to the Simpsons writer’s wikipedia page. Wikipedia lists 133 writers in total, I was able to tally up 18 different women who have at least one written episode credit to their name. Out of those thirteen women one of them is Conan O’Brien’s sister and Bart Simpson herself Nancy Cartwright. The numbers probably become even more grotesque when looking at anything else that diverts from the White Ivy League Educated paradigm that the Simpsons has firmly established in its endless run. So whenever a show as creaky and conservative, at least in terms of writing room staff, diverts from the white male paradigm I find that the typical Simpsons episode has a noticeable more pep in its step, the show for a brief moment feels more vital, and for me the reason is because of a wider perspective a woman writer can offer in a male dominated workplace. This episode’s title alone is a piece of modern mainstream feminism sloganeering that Lisa explicitly touches upon in the episode, and unlike Bob’s Burgers the Simpsons is the sort of show where it makes more sense for a character to explicitly call out problematic world views. This type of empathy and inner growth only tends to happen in the show whenever Lisa takes over the focus of an episode and it’s that quality of heart that is missing from the large swathe of modern Simpsons where forcing jokes for the sakes of jokes always takes precedent over having any heart or reflection. 

“The Simpsons, a feminist masterpiece” - Matt Groening’s accountant 

Ms. Hoover has always been one of my favorite characters, she’s got a great sense of style and her nihilistic world view and bottomless loathing of her job is especially relatable. Looking at Ms. Hoover’s Simpsons’ fandom Wiki I found disappointing tidbits such as she’s one of the only two characters in 2007 Simpsons Game besides Lunch Lady Doris given zero lines of dialogue. The series writers’ also thought it would be funny in season 25 to have Bart hook up with her in episodes set in the future. In the show’s 32 seasons very little time and space has been dedicated to Ms. Hoover so it was satisfying to get a substantial glimpse into this teacher’s life especially since she’s the only original teacher left filling in the void left by the late great Ms. Crabapple. Hard to imagine anyone having a more hellish year in Covid times than the Ms. Hoovers of the world the women relegated to teaching jobs, because society for too long has deemed a woman’s place is not in a major network animated sitcom writer’s room but silently suffering in the classroom with the rest of America’s ungrateful brats. All of our essential workers should be delivered a deluxe orthopedic vibrating chair from a pawn shop and I won’t accept anything less! 

In order to properly review this episodes I try my best to watch through them at least twice and I found that this episode in particular really holds up on a second viewing not only because its central plot is solid but also because the episode is full of little silent visual gags that make the show feel like a labor of love rather than another episode off of the factory line. 

A real solid PASSING GRADE episode! 

#Bob's Burgers #The Simpsons #TV Reviews #Adult animation #TV Series #Feminism #The Ramones #Mama's boy

[a-rat-and-a-blob]

Drabble Arch: Hatching Potion - Control

"What were you doing down there!?" My parents shouted angrily as I begin to wallow in my chair. I didn't know where to start. I glanced at the basement door, my old room where Twitch now sat, all tied up. At least everyone made it out safely.

               "You could've been killed! What happened if he actually killed you!"

               "But.. But he didn't.." ZAC mumbled. Their anger began to reflect on me. It was burning in my heart. I sigh heavily. "Look.. I was only trying to help. Those people were killed by something! I had to fix it!"

               "No you didn't!" My mom shouts. "You didn't have to! There was no reason why you would go down there! You could've been discovered! Killed! My checkup showed instability! In your throat and your arms! One more hit and you would've died!"

               I lightly touch my hand and throat. They were still numb. It was still healing.  "I.. I just wanted to use my powers! You and dad always make people's lives better! Why can't I!?" I stomp the floor angrily, a dent could be seen. "You always told me to use powers for good.."

               "This isn't about what I tell you ZAC!" my Dad yelled. "This is about what really happened! You dissembled from this madman.. You disobeyed your mother's orders, and you brought a maniac to our very house!"

               "he's not a maniac! He's.. just lost! He can be changed!" I know that he could've been. If he was a monster, he would've killed me and tortured me. It just seemed like he wanted someone to be around.”

               My father ran to the kitchen and grab a newspaper and the arrow he found in my body, one of a rusted, bronze rod and a poisonous green arrow head. He slams the newspaper in front of my face and points to the image of the man's face filled with arrows as his flesh melted with the poison below him. Around him were the scattered arrows that missed their target.

               "Look at them!" my dad screamed, pointing at the scattered weapons. "Look at them!! You know what he did. You know what he did to all of them! And you think you could save him!?" He pierced into my yellow eyes with hate-filled bloodshot ones. "And he even attempted to kill you too.." He touched my right hand slightly. I retracted back in fear and I begin to look into it. There was still a noticeably yellow-brown hue to  it, numb with pain. "This isn't the only time he's been seen. He destroyed many sewage reform projects. The plague rat that killed millions. And you want to protect him?

               I look away, unable to face the fact that I was wrong. I knew what I felt back there. It wasn't a murderer. It was something else..

               "That's it. No more going out!"

               "What!?" I shout. "You can't do that! A lot of people are depending on me. You know the ventilation systems here in Zaun! Some of them get rusty and some of them broke y'know! If I don' fix it, it will get worse!"

               "And what about everything else ZAC! Everything else you did outside!"

               "Ligius..." my mother said. "Let's calm down. Let me handle thi-"

               "No! He needs to learn this Mary." He glances at me. "We know that you've been fighting crimes, submerging factories, protecting everyone, everything! Do you know what that does for us. Do you what that does for him? The man who found you." My dad pauses for a brief second. "You don't want to go back there don't you.."

               "............no," I mumble quietly. My hands began to clench firmly. I have to do this. I don't care what my parents said; if I can't do this, then what use are my powers. I want to see the impact it has. I want to believe it could do more good than harm. I want to see people be happy down here..

               "Then you'll understand. No more going out. That's final. You'll thank me later."

               "No!" I shout. "You can't just lock me up in here! I know I've messed up a few times out there, but I'm not sitting idle Dad! People die. People die down here. I can hear their screams and terror through my skin pal; I don't want to feel that. I never want to feel that."

               " ZAC! This isn't some comic book! This is real life!" my dad shouts. A period of silence befalls on the kitchen. "This is real life in Zaun. In Zaun, people die all the time, and we can't stop it. People can't be reformed in one reading. You need to know that. You need to know that real good.. Now, let's deal with the rat. You don't have to look if you don't want to.."

               I stared at him in anger.

               "Now.." my dad sighs. "Where's my gu-" Suddenly, we hear the steps whimper below us from the basement. Creak. Creak. Creak. Everyone went silent as they all looked towards the door. Dad looks to the shot gun on the table in the living room, a good 3 feet away from him. The gun could be shot at any moment. Creak. Creak. Creak. It grows louder and louder until finally...

               I quickly reach for the light bulb above us and crush it with my bare hands. The burn merely scrap off part of my skin. When the light dims in desperation, I grab my parents and threw them towards the living room left of the basement door. When all went dark, a large slam was heard. I scramble towards the counter for the emergency lantern. Crash! A window shatters in the distance.

               "Come on.. Come on.." I whisper rapidly as I open it and lit the inside up. A dim green glow appears in front of me as I look to the distance in the darkness. It all seems like I was alone with only the sound of my breathing and ambient noises accompanying me. I raise it to the basement door; it was blown open.

               Exterminate them.. Exterminate them.. They all deserved to be exterminated. The ones that trap Twitch in here. The ones that tried to capture my subject! I'll show them.. What did they use? They probably darted me. Attempted to poison me. But Twitch didn't feel rat poison what could it be? Doesn't matter. The fact that they tried to bind Twitch to covers shows how little they learned. Luckily I had my bugs..  I'll show them.. I'll show them all!

               The roaches tell me of their plan to contain the Goopy One.. Their plan to kill me! ME! My hands twitch in excitement for this moment as I climb the wooden steps. Closer.. and closer.. and CLOSER! My beloved crossbow began to heat up. Exterminate them.. Pierce them.. Skewer them all! Grr!

               The door broke from the might of my arrow only to be confronted with a grim darkness. I raise my ears quickly. Movements were heard.. Somewhere towards the left. I quickly shot an arrow. The windows crash. It missed. This was a trick.. A trap! They knew he was coming. Suddenly a green light fades into view, its holder being my loyal subject.

               "Goopy One!" Twitch shouts. "You made it out! Quickly, use the light to find them! Twitch told you they were awful! Deceitful! Abominable! The surface is stupid! But Twitch will rule over all of them! They'll pay eventually for their crimes against my kingdom! Come this way! My ears sense them over there.." I said pointing to the left. They're moving quickly.. Let's g-"

               "Wait!" The Goopy One commands, grasping my wrist. "I need to tell you something!"

               I look at him, aghast. "Wait? You can talk! That's.. T-that's amazing! You can now gasp in awe at my stories! But now is not the time!" I whisper frantically. "We need to kill them before they kill us!"

               "They didn't bring you here pal. I... I did." he admits.

               "...what?" I asked, surprised.

               "Listen.. I thought.. I thought you could change. Humans are that bad Twitch, you gotta trust me."

               "What.. What are you saying!? Twitch doesn't have to change! You're siding with them!?!? They're the plague..."

               "No.. I'm just.. I don't you killing people anymore. People don't always steal.. and kill.. and lie.. They could do nice stuff too. And-"

               Oh no.." I gasp suddenly. "You're brainwashed! The humans got to you!" Suddenly my ears sense the sound of.. locking?

               "Twitch! Look out!!"

               The gun fires. The Goopy One went in front of me. The force pushes him abruptly, forcing me to the ground. I looked at the dim light as the Goopy One begins to puke something out. A relatively large bullet...

               "I knew it! I knew you wouldn't leave my side!" Twitch slams the cask on the floor. As the toxins circulate the room, ZAC begins to approach them! And... embraces them? The Goopy One slowly approaches the 2 humans in the corner, forming a sort of bubble around them where the gas wouldn't breach. The lantern falls on the floor, clanking on the concrete.

               "What are you doing!? They tried to kill us! You can't"

               "Twitch listen!" The Goopy One shouts angrily in a deep voice, deep breaths in between. I shudder nervously. "I.. You're not my creator pal.. but I know you need someone. You're pretty lonely down there.. I can still be your friend.. You need someone to tell stories to. Someone to help you feed roaches."

               "Shut up!" I shout angrily, feeling a brief pain inside. It wasn't poison.. It wasn't anything physical. What is it? Make it stop! "They brainwashed you..  Goopy One.. They need to die!"

               " No! They don't! But if you kill them; you'll have to kill me. They're my parents, pal."

               "Grrr.. No!" I press the trigger. A sharp groan made me step back.

               "Get out of the way!" Another one. Another shriek of agony. What was happening? He never had to do this before.. His head began to buzz. His heart began to beat rapidly. What was this curse? I look at the Goopy One's face. He couldn't take it anymore. His skin began to rumble and fizzle heavily as his breaths become more noticeable.

               His parents look up to the face in great concern. They slam onto his skin, shouting what I could assume was "NO! STOP!" Words that I heard before, but they somehow mattered more than usual. I lower my crossbow to the floor where the lantern lay and fired. A small explosion appeared in the middle of the house as the lantern blew up and then everything was dark. No fire was made. No massive explosion. No massacres today. Just a diversion for me to leave. Just the way I wanted it.. Nothing was heard in the void as I ran. Absolutely nothing.

#ic #ZAC #Twitch #Drabble Arch: Hatching Potion #Drabbles #1784 words #Debating on whether this would've been better as a 2 parter #Sorry for the delay #Hoping its not too bad

[elfnerdherder]

The Fault in My Code: 1

Summary: Soulmates find their other half when they look into their eyes. After the next time they sleep, they wake with one eye the color of their intended.

Will Graham avoids eyes. He's never wanted a soulmate, never wanted to be told by the universe who he was supposed to feel a connection to. He already struggles enough with connections, thank you very much. As a psychiatrist, he works with soulmates who have lost their other half through various means, part of a social system that regards the journey to your soulmate as the most important thing a person can do. Coerced by Jack Crawford to consult on a case where the assailant is targeting soulmates, Will finds himself turning to the notorious Dr. Lecter to gain insight on how he's choosing the soulmates to target.

Things go horribly awry when he looks into Hannibal's eyes, though. The next morning, he wakes up with one eye blue, the other maroon. He's never wanted a soulmate, least of all one behind bars for murdering dozens of people and eating them. Hannibal thinks it's delightful -it's been dreadfully boring since he was locked up.Romance, thriller, mayhem, soulmates, and a grumpy Will Graham

You can read it on Ao3 Here

Chapter 1:

           “I have a soulmate, Dr. Graham. You can look me in the eyes.”

           “Some people reported their eyes changing color, even after looking at a person with a soulmate. That’s how the polyamory act was passed.”

           “I know enough about you that I can safely say we’re not soulmates,” Jack said dryly.

           “That’s nice.”

           “Will you at least look at the file?”

           Will glanced down to the file between them, and he slid it closer for inspection, idly biting his thumb. It was a nice setting, if he was being honest. Jack Crawford of the FBI cornered him at his favorite park with the sun shining and the birds tweeting with reckless abandon. Children played just down the small incline. Will was going to have to be civil.

           “I work with grief counseling now, Jack,” he said, opening it. The gruesome body, split down the middle and laid on two parts of the bed didn’t shock him, although it should have. Jack didn’t ambush him in a pretty place to show him photos of garden layouts. He pulled out another photo of a mirrored shard in the eye on the left. The eye on the right had been stabbed out, completely obliterated.

           “Soulmate grief counseling, from what I’ve heard. People who’ve lost their soulmate, and they have to try living in a world like this without the other half of them.”

           “And this one is making soulmates feel that grief…” he flipped to another photo, sighed. “I haven’t done a psychological profile in years. Years.”

           “I just need you to look.”

           “I don’t want to look,” he said, staring down at them. It made his eyes, two solid seafoam blue eyes, burn. “You know what looking does.”

           “I know what Dr. Bloom told me, and she said you were the best damn profiler she’d ever seen. She said you once walked into a room, noted blood trajectory and said you’d hoped you could have gotten a higher spread because you wanted to see what the blood would look like on the lightbulbs.”

           “He wanted the bulbs to burst,” Will said after a moment. He closed the file and rubbed his eyes. “He wanted to see how much blood it’d take for the bulb to burst.”

           “You saw that. Your empathy is something that’s still being discussed in psychological circles-”

           “You’d think they’d respect another doctor’s desire at privacy-” Will interjected.

           “-and your knowledge and understanding of psychological behavior of soulmates has led to several captures of very dangerous people,” Jack finished. “This is clearly a soulmate dispute, as you could see from just those photos. Genuine anger. This is the second person he’s done this to, and if what little understanding we have of him is correct, he’s going to strike again within a month.”

           “I saw the first on the news,” Will said, propping his chin up with the palm of his hand. He studied Jack’s hideous paisley tie. “He covets. Chooses who he thinks should be his soulmate, and he makes them his in death.”

           “Is this a man whose lost their soulmate and is committing crimes of passion?”

           Will let out a derisive snort and jerked his head in a no. Soulmates committing crimes of passion in the aftermath of losing their ‘beloved’ were given soft sentences, met with understanding and mouths that softened with empathy rather than tightened in anger. If sentenced, their jail time was such that they might as well have called it a holiday.

           “Is he messy?”

           “Semen, saliva…a bit of blood, but not enough to go on.”

           “I really don’t want this, Jack,” he said.

           “I know. After Hobbs…”

           “We’re not going to discuss Hobbs,” he said pleasantly. He curled his bottom lip into his mouth, wet it, and sneered. “Molly isn’t going to be happy.”

           “Any laws you could have used to forcefully decline are null and void with her. You’re not soulmates.”

           “No,” Will agreed, and he, not for the first time, felt a stab of relief at the thought. “No, we’re not.

-

           Molly worked for a small dating agency that helped people find their soulmates through various means. That being said, neither she nor Will particularly enjoyed the idea of someone forcing their hand in who they felt a kinship with, so when they accidentally met eyes with one another after a lurching train stop threw her into him, they both almost wept with relief when their eyes didn’t change the next day.

           They’d been together ever since.

           “Still two blues?” she asked jokingly when he came in. Neither of them were much in the way of gourmet foods, but she made a homemade pizza to die for from a recipe on Pinterest.

           “Still two blues,” he reassured her. The air smelled of baking dough and hot marinara sauce.

           “Carla at work was helping a man set up his account two days ago. Came in yesterday with one green and one brown. He came in today and demanded a refund since he didn’t even get to use the account,” Molly said, coming out from the kitchen to give him a peck on the cheek. “Boss is giving her a bonus, but I don’t know why for.”

           “Your system works, that’s why. It’s so he doesn’t have to buy a wedding gift when she tosses in a two weeks and elopes at the end of the month.”

           “Is that how you say it to your clients?”

           “We make lists of the good things in their life that are still present, and we brainstorm hobbies that will help them get out of the house so that they can rebuild personal boundaries and maintain stable social circles for a support system.”

           “Good use of your doctorate,” she teased.

           He grinned and headed into the kitchen, grabbing a glass out of the cupboard for some water. At the sight of two glasses in the otherwise empty sink, he paused, staring at them with the hints of anger licking at his gut.

           “I didn’t do cheesy bread, but I did make the dough from scratch since I know you like it,” she said, following after him. She patted his rear idly and reached around him for the dishcloth by the sink. “I even added fresh garlic rather than garlic salt, since you griped last time.”

           “Did you send Jack Crawford to the park after me?” he asked. “Or was he just a really good guesser?”

           Molly had the grace not to lie. She wiped down the counter where she’d done most of her cooking, blonde hair tucked behind her ears.

           “I told him, since I thought you’d like it better in a public place rather than your own house.”

           “That’s true,” he agreed. He gulped down his water so that he didn’t shout.

           “Are you going to help him, Will?”

           He finished the water, a little iron in the aftertaste since the city couldn’t be bothered to fix up the pipes. He turned the glass around in his hand, thinking. Ruminating. “If I don’t, he’s going to keep killing. They already talked to Bloom, and she referred them to me. That means she can’t say for certain, but she knows I could say for certain. She doesn’t refer people to me just to be an ass.”

           “If you do?” Molly asked. She finished wiping down the counter and looked at him, frowning. “What happens if you do?”

           “…Molly, you didn’t know me when I did that kind of work. I wasn’t pleasant.”

           “Some would argue that you’re not pleasant now,” she said. Her teasing smile faltered, though. Her blue eyes were still as pale as undisturbed shallow water, no hint of green or sapphire at the edges. He marveled at their color, face unmarred with clashing eyes that didn’t match. Three years with her, and not once had they changed. Every time he saw them, he wanted to weep with relief at the thought.

           “I don’t know. I could relapse, I could maybe…lose a bit of myself.” He filled the cup up again, to do something with his hands. “What if I meet someone’s eyes? What if I get inside my own head too far? I won’t be the same if I do this. You won’t know me the same.”

           “You’d told me enough about the things you did for the FBI. You won’t be the same, but I won’t mind getting to know you all over again, if you don’t mind.”

           There it was. Molly didn’t mind. This time he sipped the water, letting the mineral taste linger as he stared overhead at the ceiling fan that turned about lazily.

           “He’s going after soulmates,” he said.

           “That means you and I are safe, at least,” she reassured him.

           Molly was safe. Will Graham was going to help the FBI hunt a killer. He blessedly hadn’t yet found a soulmate.

-

           Planes were a terrible place to avoid eyes. Everyone was a stranger, and the idea of meeting the other half of their soul on a getaway was a dream come true. He could count on both hands and a foot how many airlines advertised someone meeting a stranger on an international flight, waking up after a nap to find that one of their eyes had changed color. The idea that you could meet ‘the one’ on a business flight to Cincinnati? Fantasy made reality by Tacoma Airlines.

           He found himself crammed into a window seat with a chatterbox beside him, contemplating his lack of mismatched eyes with their lack of mismatched eyes, and it was only when he pulled out the case files and began going over them did they finally quieted down. They must have seen the bodies.

           Because it was on the FBI’s dime, he called Alana... just because.

           “Did you send Jack Crawford after me?” he asked once he’d been patched through.

           “I told him that you’d have insight that I didn’t, but I also recommended that he leave you the hell alone,” Alana said. She recognized his voice despite the passing of years.

           “I’m headed to Baltimore.”

           “That’s where the last body was, right?” Alana asked.

           “He wants me to see the crime scene. This morning, he also got a call from Dr. Chilton at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane saying that one of the inmates there had information regarding the case.”

           “Promising,” Alana said wryly. They both remembered Frederick Chilton from school, and it wasn’t precisely with fondness.

           “Since you inadvertently sent him to me, I’m going to use you as leverage to get him to let me talk to the inmate. He’s always had a thing for you.”

           “Margot doesn’t let me forget it,” she sighed.

           “How is Margot?”

           “She’s great. I’ll let her know you called.” A beat as Will flipped through the files again. Beside him, his chatterbox companion had fallen asleep. “Who was the inmate?”

           “Hannibal Lecter,” Will said.

           “Were you going to tell me that, or were you going to wait for me to ask?” Alana wondered. She was as perceptive as he was surly.

           “I was hoping you wouldn’t ask,” he said.

           “What, because I was his TA?” She laughed, but it wasn’t entirely sincere. “Will, that was years ago. I’ve actually spoken with him long after, when I passed my board. He was proud of me.”

           “He once said that, given the chance, he’d have eaten you,” Will reminded her.

           “Thankfully, I was far more useful to him blind than in a roast,” she quipped. “Have you ever met him before?”

           “I haven’t.”

           “…I wouldn’t recommend it. He may have information, but if he’s just now deciding to share it, there can’t be a good reason.”

           “I don’t have a past with him, so that will either gain me an edge or lose me one. At the very least, I wasn’t running around publishing theories on him like the others. They made his shit list.”

           “Look, I’m able to say that I ‘survived’ him by being too blind to see, but that doesn’t mean I take him lightly. Will…” Her voice trailed off as she struggled to find the words. “I can’t think of a nice way to say it.”

           “Say it ugly, Alana,” he urged.

           “Your way of thinking is something I think he’d see in an instant. He’d use it to chew you up and spit you out. He gets into the strongest of minds and…you read the reports. He’s not like other psychopaths.”

           “He’s not,” Will agreed. Enough studies had come out that he’d realized most of those writing them didn’t have a handle on the man. When Dr. Chilton allowed Lecter to publish articles of his own in the journals, that solidified his theory.

           “You’ve been out a long time. Profiling a killer at the back of the task force is one thing. Walking into a room with Dr. Lecter is another thing entirely.”

           “If he has information, Alana…I don’t think Jack can get it. You know Jack.”

           “I know Jack,” Alana agreed.

           “It’s part of the investigation,” he said. “Mostly I just called to say that if you’re in any of the areas I’m visiting, I’d like to see you.”

           “Evasion techniques don’t work on me, Will.”

           “They would if you let them,” he replied.

           “Please be careful…you know, I really do wish people just left you the hell alone. You’ve done enough, and I’ve heard nothing but great things about your practice with grief counseling soulmates.”

           “Thanks.”

           “Still no one for yourself?” she asked.

           “I have Molly,” he defended. Molly was better than any soulmate. It was an active choice to be together, and that sounded far more romantic than being together by force.

           “Tell her I say hello. Try to get some sleep on the flight too, alright?”

           “I will.”

           He didn’t sleep, but he continued to peruse the files, staring at the bodies of the two people whose eyes had been gouged out. It didn’t take a genius to see he’d removed the eye that had changed color, the one that didn’t ‘belong’.

           It didn’t smack of soulmate rage, though. There wasn’t an aching pain of loss, but of greed, of need. He’d have to revisit the crime scene, taste the air and the screams that still echoed in it. The idea of stepping into such a place made his stomach turn, but there he was. Molly said he could save people, Jack said he was the only one to help, and there was a psychopath in a psychiatric hospital that claimed to know something about it.

           He almost missed the soulmate grief counseling sessions.

-

           Frederick Chilton had two brown eyes. Will studied the desk in front of them, hands clasped behind his back so that if he had to curl them into fists, the other doctor didn’t see.

           “Dr. Bloom phoned me last night, said you were coming. I got another call from Agent Crawford, too, but his was more in the assurance of my cooperation with you. As I said to them both, I am more than happy to be of assistance, seeing as how if this person is apprehended they’ll be brought to my institution.”

           “We appreciate you’re cooperation,” Will said.

           “I’ve worked with Bloom quite a few times, Dr. Graham, but I haven’t really seen you since school. Good work with the grief counseling?”

           He didn’t take the jab.

           “I’d imagine after consulting with the FBI, it wouldn’t be as…exciting.” Chilton stood and moved about the room, an air of arrogance to him that smelled like sandalwood. He watched Will out of the corner of his eye, much like he would one of his patients. “But here you are, and I’ve got Dr. Hannibal Lecter downstairs that supposes he knows the person you’re looking for.”

           “We’re going to need as private a space as possible so that I can question him. I may have to pass him some papers, if that’s alright?”

           “How many times are you going to question him?”

           “I’m not sure yet.”

           “Well, to start, he’ll remain in his cell. We have strict protocol with Hannibal Lecter, and I don’t deviate from it in any way, shape, or form. If you’re worried about eavesdroppers, I can place small partitions on either side of you, but there he will remain.

           “I’m sure Dr. Bloom regaled you with tales of him, to try and prepare you for the person you’re going to meet, but I must tell you –this is nothing you’ve seen before. I’ve heard of cases you’ve consulted on, too, and I maintain that statement, Dr. Graham.”

           Will sat down since he supposed this was going to take a bit.

           “You may pass him soft paper, but nothing else. Use the food drawer to initiate that exchange, not the bars. No pens, paperclips, stapled documents, or anything that could be potentially used as a weapon. If he attempts to pass you something, do not take it. If he attempts to ask for things to be used as a weapon, alert an orderly waiting just down the hall. You think these are obvious things, but I’ve seen a side to him that none of the journals have seen.

           “Just a year after his being here, perfectly congenial and polite, he complained of stomach pains. Instead of remaining in with the nurse, the orderlies stepped outside for a smoke break.”

           Chilton paused, to better savor the build-up. Will stared at his argyle tie dispassionately.

           “They managed to save one of her eyes,” he finally revealed. “His pulse was first at seventy-two, but did not rise above eighty-five throughout the entire ordeal, even when his shoulder was dislocated, even when he swallowed her tongue.”

           “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said. He had no plans of being in such close proximity to Lecter.

           “See that you do,” Chilton urged. He turned back to face Will, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Twelve sessions I’ve had with him, twelve. Even Dr. Bloom took a whack at him, since they once worked together. Nothing. He is impenetrable.”

           “I’ll see what I can do,” Will said.

           “Yes, with your reconstruction of crime scenes,” Chilton said, and a spark of interest made him rock back on his heels. “You’ve caught many a person, especially in regards to crimes regarding soulmates, yes? You’ll have to tell me, since I’ve quite a few soulmates in this institution, just how you recreate that? No, no, not today,” he said, waving a hand as Will shifted in his chair. “Bloom told me you were off limits today, she made me swear it. Another time.”

           “I’d like to see Dr. Lecter now,” Will said.

           The maximum security part of the institution has large deadbolts that slid shut with a disturbing clang. Will didn’t jump at the noise, although he did tighten his grip on his folder. When an orderly pushed a cart down the way, he masked his footsteps behind them, wanting a moment to see Dr. Lecter before Dr. Lecter saw him. He’d sat in on the court trial, mostly a support for Alana since she testified against him. The man, sitting accused of multiple first degree murders and cannibalism, was serene as a spring morning. Even when he was sentenced, he didn’t complain. He allowed himself to be led away, his flat eyes looking across the crowd, pinning each person that’d spoken against him like butterflies to a display board.

           He lay on his cot, head propped against the wall with a pillow, eyes closed. Will stood at the bars, staring. He was long, lean, no sign of faded muscle despite his captivity. A cookbook sat propped onto his chest, and five seconds into Will staring, his eyes opened.

           “I’d recognize that aftershave anywhere,” he drawled. “Alana Bloom often came to my office with it reeking along her neck and mouth when she was my TA.”

           “I keep getting it for Christmas,” he said.

           Along the room, taped to the walls, skylines of various places were shaded with acute detail, from the Eiffel tower to churches in what looked to be Italy. More paper flooded a table bolted to the floor, and pens of various color were scattered across it.

           “Christmas,” Lecter said, and he sat up, closing the book on his chest with a snap. “I’ve sent Alana Christmas cards every year, and she thanks me every year, too.”

           “Dr. Bloom is all politeness.”

           “Do sit down, Dr. Graham. I believe that just down the hall, there are chairs held within a closet. At least, that’s what it sounds like.” Lecter stood, and in his off-white jumpsuit, his skin was somewhat sallow, although his hair was combed and neat.

           “The orderly is getting it for me, as well as partitions.”

           “Partitions?” Lecter’s brows lifted. “Ah, you mean this to be private. I’m intrigued.”

           The orderly returned, and underneath the light Will noted two different colored eyes. One was hazel, the other as green as pine. Will helped him set up the partitions, and he wondered at Chilton allowing someone with a soulmate to work in the maximum security. Normally, having something society was too terrified to lose so close to danger was a bad thing. He wasn’t sure if it was Chilton treating soulmates as equals, or if he was jealous his own eyes were still the same color.

           Lecter waited until everything was set up for Will before he sat down, crossing one leg elegantly over the other. Will studied his chin, the way it lifted.

           “That was quite polite of you,” he said.

           “Always happy to help.”

           “Is that what you do now, Dr. Graham? Help? I know you once profiled killers for the FBI, consulted on cases of the truly criminal. Why, you even weighed in on my case when they asked you to. Now, you give counseling to soulmates, so I’m told.”

           “I do.”

           “I see you have two blue eyes; no soulmate of your own, I see. Afraid to look at people? Afraid of what you’ll find? Of just who you’d become attached to, given the way of your mind?”

           “Dr. Lecter, you informed Dr. Chilton of your having information regarding the recent attacks on married soulmates. I’m here to ask about that, if you don’t mind.”

           “Are you always so blunt, Dr. Graham?” Lecter asked. His lip curled around his name. “No small talk where I’m concerned?”

           “No small talk in general,” Will said.

           “Small talk is all that I enjoy these days,” Lecter said with a sigh. “With Dr. Chilton, that’s all one can truly do. I bet he took one look at you and tried to paw at your mind like a senior at a freshman girl’s virginity. I’ve read about you in the journals, psychiatrists baffled at your perfect blend of neuroses that made you quite the asset for the FBI.”

           “I’ve read about you, too,” he said.

           “Mostly the cannibalizing, I’m sure,” he drawled.

           “Mostly.”

           “One of the grad students that wrote to me framed the letter I sent back. Quaint.”

           “I have the file here, if you want to take a look at it. I could really use the help, Dr. Lecter.”

           “You haven’t offered me anything, yet,” Lecter said, and Will felt his eyes digging into his skin. He stared pointedly at the hands that clasped Lecter’s knee. “When someone wants something from me, they usually offer a reward.”

           “I wasn’t going to do you the disservice.”

           “Disservice? Dr. Graham, whatever do you mean?”

           “You will either help, or you won’t. Offering you baubles when Dr. Chilton already tries to sweeten you up with what you have in there is disrespectful, isn’t it?”

           “You have tanned hands. They’re not quite the hands of a psychiatrist, but they’re not yet the hands of a manual laborer. A part time job, hmm? Something to keep you busy in between group sessions and grieving patients?”

           “You told Dr. Chilton that you had information, Dr. Lecter. It wasn’t the other way around.” God, Alana was right. Speaking with him made Will feel like he had ants crawling into the back of his mind, chewing through everything.

           “A ring on the right finger; a promise band, but two eyes of the same color. You know what, Dr. Graham, I’m curious.”

           Will stood up, folder in hand.

           “Good bye, Dr. Lecter.”

           “Let me see the folder, and I’ll help you,” Lecter said, standing up.

           Will crossed over to the small food box, sliding it open. It took a bit of force to stuff it in, but when he did he shoved it over to Lecter. Lecter opened it and retrieved the folder, his hands graceful, smooth despite the rough cell he rotted in.

           It was as Will was turning away from him though, that something happened that he should have honestly prepared himself for. What had Chilton said? Don’t get too close; keep him in your sights? When he went to sit back down, Hannibal grabbed his wrist tightly through the bars, and Will jerked around, a curse hissing from his lips.

           He looked directly into Dr. Lecter’s eyes.

           Lecter grinned, an awful, terrible thing. Underneath the light, his eyes were maroon, and the moment he met his gaze, Lecter released his wrist and stepped away, heading back to his chair in order to peruse the file. Will stumbled back, heart lurching, but he didn’t sit back down. He moved to the partition, and he prayed that the rasping gasps of breath coming from him weren’t audible to Lecter just across the way.

           “Give me some time to go through these, Dr. Graham, and come back. You and I will have much to discuss, I think,” he called out, unheeding of Will’s panic.

           Will all but fled from the maximum security.

-

           He woke some hours later on his hotel bed, his neck at an odd angle. He sat up, groaned, and popped his neck, letting it carry down his back as he stretched. The hotel he was put up in wasn’t the best, but it did boast a complimentary breakfast.

           He washed the taste of sleep from his mouth, rubbed his face, and considered calling Molly. He reconsidered when he thought of Lecter’s hand on his wrist, branding him. He washed his hands, splashed his face, then looked up at the bathroom mirror, freezing with the hand towel pressed to his mouth.

           One seafoam blue eye, one maroon.

#Hannibal fanfiction #hannibal #hannibal au #soulmate au #hannibal soulmates #will graham x hannibal #will graham is soulmates with hannibal #not too happy about it either #writing #lias scribbles

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USA, South Korea Consent To Revise Rocket Negotiation In Face Of North Korean Hazards

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