#and finally I can get back to revising the next chapter of The Stars

[shirozora-draws]

I am so late but I am finally done with the first round of merch that I am satisfied with. I am satisfied and we are rolling forward with this set. Now to send off all of my final sample orders so that I know these are absolutely working and are worth posting to a shop site as pre-orders.

Clan of Three lanyards. I recognize that I could easily turn these into washi tapes if I wanted to. We'll see.

Grogu Baby Crimes. Sticker & acrylic shaker charm. Completely revamped after carrying around the old version as an acrylic shaker charm and deciding it was too unwieldy and, more importantly, not cute enough. This will be a sticker option and an acrylic shaker charm option.

Keldabe kiss - Interstellar version. Matte & holographic sticker.

Keldabe kiss - Tatooine version. Matte & holographic sticker.

Live Cheen Reaction. Sticker. For all the fans of Cheen Yofree, the unluckiest third-wheeling Rodian OC.

Need A Hero. Sticker & acrylic charm. The only thing I'm putting forward with Din's face for now. I wanted something cute.

Clan of Two. Sticker. A straightforward general sticker.

The Battle Couple. Sticker (for now). This was actually designed to be an embroidered patch, but I'm not really there yet. The sticker shape is odd so I might present this as a kiss cut sticker.

Luke on Ossus - no scars. Sticker. For people who don't want scars?

Luke on Ossus - scars. Sticker. I just wanted to doodle a thirst trap, thassit.

The Storm. Sticker (for now). I wanted to make more merch for my fics and might use this template for the other fics in the Dangerous Dreams series.

The Clan of Three. Sticker. This motherfucker held me up for MONTHS. I didn't like the previous full-body version especially after getting several sample stickers so I started over... and then got stuck. For months. But here we are. The final piece of the puzzle.

Limited - Tron. Sticker & acrylic charm. I wanted to make a little Tron merch. The acrylic charm will be double-sided with Tron on one side and Rinzler on the other. Thank god this guy is more or less symmetrical.

Limited - Rinzler. Sticker & acrylic charm. For people who like Rinzler. This will be double-sided with Rinzler on one side and Tron on the other side.

I'm sending off a final round of sample sticker and charm orders so that I can get a feel for the revamped and new designs, and once I'm happy I'll get the pop-up shop up and running.

Round 2, I'm looking at small prints, possibly the embroidered patch, and maybe a Tron|Rinzler standee. Also a sticker for The Suns maybe, possibly also The Stars. What if I did a WarGreymon|BlackWarGreymon charm?????

And now.... we write.

[f1bordeaux]

If You Cared (Part 4) | mv1

It's been years since you've indulged in a vacation. What better time is there than summer? Your family, the beach house in Italy-it seems perfect. But, for things to be just like good old times, your family needs to invite his. So of course you are having mixed feelings as the boy who broke your heart re-enters your life like nothing happened. Warnings: Suggestive content in the beginning, implied nudity, angst Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader Word count: 2.3k Poetry style | Story style A/n: One more part left! I decided to do 5 chapters instead of only 4, so the next part is the last part. This was kinda rushed, sorry if you can tell, but I'm leaving soon and I really wanted to finish this up for you guys so you weren't waiting for two months lmao. I'll come back one day and revise it, but ur stuck with this for now. Enjoy! Part 5 will be up tomorrow <;3 Part One|Part Two|Part Three|Part Four|Part Five

“Goodnight!” You waved as your mom and dad sombered down the hall. Finally.

You ran into your room, reaching for your phone on your desk. Max’s contact was the first one to pop up. Come up. You sent.

Victoria and I are still in the living room chatting. I’m trying to get up there. He sent back immediately. 

I’ll be waiting, just come in. Don’t knock. With that, you set your phone down and cracked open your window. A thick, cold gust of wind blew in. It would rain soon, a perfect background noise for what was about to happen. You smirked thinking about it. You smirked thinking about how worked up you made Max on the yacht, just to say in the end, “You have to wait until we get home to do anything more than kiss.”

This would be fun.

The only light in the room was coming from a lamp on your desk. It created a warm, soft, dreamy atmosphere. Your sheets seemed softer than normal, your pillow seemed thicker than normal, the wood on your feet seemed colder than normal. Maybe it was the exhaustion finally setting in from the day on the boat, but your senses were heightened. You wondered what it would feel like to kiss Max again. Would it be different? Would it feel better?

Only a few more minutes would pass before your door opened so quietly that you almost didn’t notice. Max slid in through the crack, a smile on his lips. “Hello.” He said.

“Glad to see you could make it.”

“I wouldn’t pass this up for the world.” He said, sitting next to you on your bed. His arms wrapped around you, pulling your body into a tight embrace. You both fell backwards, giggling as your bodies hit the bed. At once, you both closed your eyes just basking in each other's body heat and feeling your breath on one another's skin.

Your legs dangled off the bed, and when you realized, you pulled them up and curled into Max. He just hummed softly, placing a kiss on the top of your head. It would be so easy to just fall asleep. To just postpone this until later. What if you both just…

“Hey.” He whispered.

You blinked slowly, taking in the now different view. The two of you were now laying normally on your bed, your body being held by Max still. It was raining pretty hard outside. You could hear it clearly through your open window. The lamp was off now and the alarm clock on your desk read 4:55 AM. You remembered it being only midnight.

“Hi.” You whispered back. Max drew stars on your cheek, smiling as you looked up at him with gleaming eyes. You were always so amazed by him, it didn’t take a scientist to figure that out. He could honestly say that he felt the same about you.

“We fell asleep.”

“Yeah,” You tucked your head into his chest. His shirt smelled of sunscreen and salt. “I guess we did.”

“Do you feel alright?”

You just nodded, not pulling your face away from his body. He, however, reached his hand under your chin, pulling your face just a few inches below his. Even in the dark you could see the outline of his features. You could see his lips, his beautiful eyes, his nose, his messy hair. As you studied his face, he studied yours. It was like you both got lost in one another. These moments had been more frequent lately. You enjoyed every second of them.

“If you want something, Max,” You smirked, inching closer. “Just ask.”

You watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. “Can I kiss you?”

“Anytime.”

It happened in a flash, his lips connected to yours in a rushed haze. His hand came to the small of your back pulling your pelvis into his. His other hand gripped the back of your head with such force that a small moan slipped into the kiss. Max loved it. He wanted you to do it again and again. You remained like this for only a few seconds before he flipped you onto your back, pulling away as he did so.

“God,” He whispered. “You look so good. How’d I get so lucky?”

You just looked away, hiding underneath your arm. Max pulled it away, insisting that he wanted to admire your blissed out look. The rain picked up outside. You felt so happy that you could cry. This was a moment you’d been wanting with Max since you were a teenager. Honestly, this made you have a hopeful outlook for the future. He wouldn’t have sex with you then just leave. Surely this was the beginning of something new, something you’d wanted for years.

“Can I take your shirt off?”

You nodded, lifting your arms straight up so he could slide it off. “Now yours,” You instructed.

“Yes ma’am.”

Your body was humming in pure ecstasy as his bare skin was flush against yours. He stared at you for a few seconds, looking at your face, then your body, then your lips. He was practically drooling as he consumed the image before him. Not only was this a dream come true for you, but it was for him, too. He’d always had eyes for you, he’d always wanted to feel and kiss you. As much as he was your first crush, you were his. His first kiss was also you, even though he lied at the time and said he’d been with plenty of girls. He was determined to do things right this time, to not be idiotic or selfish, to not be doubtful or despondent.

Max kissed your neck before moving down to place small kisses on your chest. They were quick, his lips moving to another spot only seconds after attaching to the first. “Max,” You moaned, hand entwined in his hair. “Give me more.”

He looked up, a smile on his face. “More?”

You nodded. “More.”

-

“We’re going to be late!” Your mom yelled from down the hall.

Right, this was not what you were supposed to be doing. “Max, we gotta go.” You gasped, pulling away from him.

Max frowned, adjusting his tie as you walked to your desk to reapply your jewelry. “I was having fun.”

The ‘fun’ he was talking about was having you pushed into the wall of your bedroom as the two of you feverishly made out. This had become rather common in the past few days. Ever since the night on the yacht, the dynamic between the two of you had changed from best friends with a mutual crush to best friends with benefits. Max used these benefits every chance he got. Even if it was ten minutes before a big formal charity ball.

You stepped in front of the mirror to admire your outfit. A long, skin tight, wine-red dress clung to your body. There was a slit up the left leg. Your hair was up, your makeup was done perfectly, you were flawless. Max stepped into the mirror, too, his arms wrapping around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder.

“You look stunning, baby.” Max whispered in your ear. Your skin began to rise with chills. “So good.”

“You do too, Max.” You turned to kiss him on the cheek. He wore a black suit and tie, but somehow he made the simple outfit look so complex, so elegant, so royal. “Let's go.”

He opened your door for you, extending an arm as you walked by. When the two of you walked down the stairs, everyone looked. It truly was like two members of a royal family were walking into the room. Your dad whistled, your mom and Max’s pulled out their phones to take photos, Victoria smiled, holding onto her husband, Luca and Mia shared-concerning glances? Mia-without a doubt-looked worried. Like, next level worried. Cat just got hit by a car worried.

“You two look phenomenal.” Sophie said.

“Thanks, mom.” Max responded.

The eleven of you were all dressed to impress. The cameras would surely find their way to you, tonight. This charity ball was something you attended every summer, but now that Max was a celebrity who had millions of people watching his every move, cameras were going to be present. So, you all took a little extra time to look good. Luca wondered if any girls would see his photo and ask about him. Max boosted his ego and said, “Maybe.”

When you all got there, the venue was packed. A small, round table had the name cards for you, Max, your siblings and Victoria’s family. Your parents and Sophie were elsewhere, sitting at a table with high-end contributors who were older than dust.

You were on one side of Max, his brother-in-law was on the other. Mia was on the opposite side of the table and still she carried this worrying look. Was she sick? “Mia?” You asked. “Are you alright?”

“I-um,” She looked at Max. He looked away, tapping on the table to get his little nephew's attention. “Yes. I am ok.”

“Are you sure? I can drive you home.”

“Yes, y/n. I’m alright.”

Odd. All night she would furrow her brows, frown, sigh or just be overall sad whenever you and Max whispered in each others ears, whenever his hand came to rest on your knee, whenever he fed you a piece of food, whenever you leaned into his shoulder while laughing. Luca began leaning into her, whispering something that you couldn’t quite hear.

“So, Max. You leave soon, right?” She started up.

He cleared his throat, setting his napkin on the table. “I do, yeah. Four days.”

Your heart began to pang in your chest. How could you have forgotten? The three weeks Max spent with you were almost up. You two would have to go your own ways now. You were hopeful, however. This hurt way less than the first time it happened.

“What comes next for,” Mia waved her hand between the two of you. “This?”

You sighed. Why was she being so rude? “Mia-”

“What do you mean?” Max asked.

She sipped from her wine glass, setting it back down with such force that a bit splashed out over the side. “When you go back to Monaco and she goes back to the states. What happens then? Are you gonna break her heart again?”

“Mia! Enough.” You corrected her. “What is your problem tonight-you know what, no. Not even tonight. You’ve been a bitch to Max for the past week. Why?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you explain, Max.” She turned her whole body to face Luca who sat to her right. “Or you can explain, Luca.”

Luca almost spit out his water. “Me?”

“What are you talking about?” You asked. You slowly turned to look at Max. His hand came from off your thigh to the wine glass in front of him. He downed the last of the red liquid, almost as if he was refusing to speak.

“Nobody? No takers?” Mia proceeded. “Fine then, I’ll tell y/n.”

At that moment, at that table, your summer crumbled. No longer would the sun feel as warm, would the beach feel as calming, would Elba feel as homely, would Max feel so wonderful. All the worries you had, all the wonders that plagued your mind, all of the what ifs, all of the maybes-everything came crashing down. Everything became a slew of nevers, of goodbyes, of I would just rather forget you’s.

Mia sighed. “Y/n, Luca bet Max that he wouldn’t be able to kiss you this summer. And he took it.”

“He bet what?” You asked. “What do you mean?”

“At dinner on the first night you got up to go to the bathroom. When you were gone, Luca bet Max one hundred dollars that he couldn’t get you to kiss him. Max took the bet and said that he could make it happen.”

Oh. So, was it real? Was any of it real? The first night after dinner when he sat next to you by the pool, was he just trying to win the bet? When he stayed home to watch the sunrise with you, was he just trying to win the bet? When he apologized, was it just a step in his plan to win the bet? Wherever you and him would ride together in his car, go to the beach together, play games together, fall asleep on the couch together-was it for his bet? When you first kissed, did he feel good because of you or because he knew he beat Luca?

“Max,” You practically whispered. “Tell me she’s lying.”

He said nothing. There was now this deafening silence hanging over the table. You felt sick. Why wouldn’t Max just look at you and say that it was fake, that Mia was making shit up?

“Max, please.” You begged. Tears formed in your eyes. “Why wont you say anything?”

“It’s true.” Was all he said. He didn’t look at you, he looked at Luca. So you looked at Luca. He hung his head as soon as you made eye contact with him.

“How could you-why did you-Mia. How’d you find out?” Was your next question.

“Luca was playing video games with one of his friends talking about it,” She said. “And I overheard it and made him explain it all.”

“Luca, how could you do that to me?” Your voice was so quiet, so close to breaking. “You’re my brother.”

“Y/n, I-”

You stood up, chair scratching the floor as you did so. With quick, long steps, you darted out of the dining venue. Mia was quick to follow. Max didn’t get up, neither did Luca. Not that you cared anymore. There was one thing you wanted and it wasn’t an apology from anyone, it was the first flight back to New York.

You’d done it again. He’d done it again.

Max Verstappen once again had broken your heart and didn't bother to watch you cry or attempt to apologize.

How foolish of you to fall once again.

[pink-tonic]

Make You Look Good📰

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Warnings: None

I'm a total wreck. That's the best way to describe my current state. There is so much happening in such little time. It feels like I have nowhere to go and no one to run to.

When I wake up, I contemplate whether to stay home or to gather all my power to go to school. I decide to power through because I remember that Osoro wanted to talk to me. I'll finally find out what he wants from me. My stomach twists in knots at what he wants from me. Are his intentions good? Did he want to gain my trust only to betray me in some way? I hope that this isn't the case. I hope Osoro wasn't just trying to get on my good side in order to get something from me. If he's going to tell me anything, I hope what he reveals to me isn't going to hurt me in some way.

I get ready, and I head out the door. I walk down the street, and I make it to the Yamada residence. The three of them start to leave the house once they see him waiting outside. They all greet me before joining me on my way to school.

I thought that my gloomy mood wouldn't be noticed by anyone. I was more silent than ever. I wasn't bickering with Teako, I wasn't catching up with Taro, and I wasn't talking to Hanako. They all must know that something is wrong. The only question was who was going to be the brave one to make me talk about it.

Taeko would be the one.

"Did something happen?" Taeko asks me as she observes the frown and downcasted eyes present on my face. I look over towards her.

"Sorry, just thinking about some stuff. I'm fine," I do my best to deter them from digging deeper. There is so much I haven't told them. I'll tell them eventually. Sometime before Taeko graduates, they are all most likely to be there.

"Well, you better start speaking your thoughts soon. We have another paper to publish, you better have contributed something," Taeko orders me with a glare. She sounds more like a club leader than I do. If she wasn't in her last year, I would definitely have her as next year's leader or as a co-leader. She definitely has the potential to be one.

"Wow! So cool, big sister!" Hanako praises his older sister's strong presence with stars in his eyes. He runs up to us and gets in the middle of the two of us. Hanako looks up at me and smiles, "Are you really going to publish something? I really want to read it!" Hanako asks as he grips on to my forearm and his sister's forearm.

"Hanako! Don't hold him like that!" His sister reprimands as she tries to take his hand off of my arm.

I laugh, "It's fine, I don't mind it," I reassure her as I gently push her hand back, "But I was working on an article last night. I just need to revise it. I'll send it to your sister so she can see it, I'll be out on Friday so I'm leaving club duties up to her."

"You're just telling me now?" Taeko harshly questions me, "You could have told me at the start of the week. It's fine, I was able to get it done before. It better be a good article."

I've had this thought over the past few months, but Taeko has changed. It's not a bad type of change. I remember her being the quiet bookworm who was always shy around me. When I rejected her, that's where I saw her change. She went from the picture-perfect shy, bookworm girl. To a girl who is assertive and likes to tease others in a friendly manner. I start to wonder if she was always like this, but only showed it to her siblings? Maybe I'll ask one day, but not today. She's bound to rip me a new one for asking such a question.

I look over towards Taro, wondering what he was doing at this moment. I let out an airy laugh once I see him reading a book. Reading and walking must be a talent because I could never do something like that without running into someone.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

When the four of us make it to school, I wonder who I should go to. Should I stay with the siblings? Or should I go and talk to Kizano to clear things up? Osoro wanted to talk to me, and I'll finally get some answers about his attitude towards me. Ayato is another person I can go to, but maybe I'll go to him later. Saikou is also an option, but I shouldn't bother him. Especially since the other members of the student council are going to keep tabs on me for the whole day, trying to see if I'm a good candidate for the job.

After thinking about my options, I decide to go to Kizano. I need some quotes from him since I was unable to get a meaningful conversation last time, and I need to clear up his feelings. I can't keep letting his feelings grow when I don't reciprocate most of it. I like Kizano, but I can't really imagine being with him and actually dating him.

I've thought about it before, but I'm unsure what I like in a relationship. I've never been in one, and Kizano's feelings makes me question something important. Do I like men? It's a bit of a funny question to think about, but it's a genuine question I have. I haven't shown interest in men, but Kizano makes me reconsider a little. I know I like women because I've had crushes on girls when I was younger, and when I see a cute girl, I can't help but look twice to catch a glimpse of her.

Do I like both?

If I do, then what would happen to me? Not many people are supportive. Would people stop being friends with me? Are people going to start looking at me with disdain? Are my parents going to be disappointed? Are all my friends going to leave me?

I snap myself out of those thoughts. I know that I don't fully accept Kizano's feelings, and I have to tell him that. That’s what matters.

I leave the three siblings, and I make my way to the Drama Club. As I'm leaving, I notice that Taeko wants to ask where I'm going but holds herself black from asking. I'm not sure why she stops herself from asking, but I don't stop to ask.

I make it to the Drama Club, and both of the doors are closed. I decide to knock on the door, I don't want to intrude. I give the door two knocks, and I wait. I look around ideally before the door opens for me.

"You came!" A familiar voice greets me as he drags me into the club room. The door closes behind me, and I look around the room, noticing that it's just the two of us in the room.

"That Saikou is on my bad side now because he cut into our time together. Even though he comes from an elite family, he really doesn't have any manners," Kizano rants about Saikou and how the future heir ruined our moment together. That might be true for Kizano, but to me, Saikou saved me. I wasn't sure what would happen if the conversation between me and Kizano kept going.

"Oh! Here," Kizano quickly runs behind the small set in the middle of the room and comes out with a bouquet of red roses. A frown starts to present itself on my face at the sight of the gift.

"Do you not like them?" Kizano asks me as he keeps holding the bouquet. I start to feel bad because I didn't mean for him to see my frown, I didn't even think he would notice in the first place.

"No, it's not that..." I let out a sigh and look away. My demeanor is completely different from the previous times we've been together.

"Then... what is it?" Kizano questions while walking over to me. He places the roses on a nearby chair and stands in front of me, "Please tell me. Is it... is it that damn delinquent? I knew something was up when I saw the two of you together! If it's him, then I'll go and give him a piece of my mind!"

"That's not it! He wanted to come with me," I clarify what happened yesterday. I'm not sure why it's hard to tell him how I feel. I know he likes me. It's been so evident, but I thought that it would go away and he would start to pursue someone else.

"(Y/N), can I please tell you what's been heavy on my chest for the past weeks?" Kizano asks for my permission before he goes further.

I nod my head, already knowing what he wants to tell me.

"(Y/N), I thought that I couldn't love one person. I knew that I could love, it's what I do all the time, but I didn't know that one person could hold all my love. It seemed like someone else would come around, and I would start to love them instead. I sound so selfish, and it's true, I am. I knew it was wrong to feel that way. But by being with you, I learned I can put all my love in one place... (Y/N?)" Kizano took one pause before calling my name. I was in a daze. I didn't know what I should feel.

I started to feel a storm of emotions cloud over me. One part of me wanted to walk away and end the conversation before I even had a say in it. Another part wanted to pity him and consult him. I wanted to question him and how he felt, trying to dig deep into his emotions and to even prove that I was just like all his other crushes and loves: A phase. But then there was that last feeling. It was the only positive one in a sea of negativity. It shined with a dim glow, but it was the brightest emotion of them all.

It was love.

My heart pounded at the thought of accepting the roses and leaning into Kizano's love. I wanted to drag him down and kiss him.

I wanted to kiss Kizano.

I back away from Kizano and look away, "Kizano, I can't accept your love. I'm sorry."

I look up towards Kizano to see his expression. His smile that was present is gone in the next second when he hears the rest of my sentence. His feelings are crushed. I shattered his heart that was bursting with love.

I feel like a monster.

"Why? Please tell me," Kizano reaches out to me and grasps my shoulders in his hands. I don't back away or push him off, I let him hold me because I know this will be the last time he will hold me like this or look at me.

I let out a sigh that I was holding in, "I just... I don't love you the same way you love me, Kizano. You're so sweet, charismatic, and amazing to be around. I love you how friends love each other, but not like lovers. I'm sorry."

He retracts his hands away from me and looks away. His long hair falls over his face as he looks down, shielding his eyes from me like a curtain.

"I understand. We'll see each other around, right?" Kizano asks me with a newfound heaviness in his voice. I recognize the tone. He is trying hard not to cry, but the sounds of his sadness want to burst and show themselves. I know it's best for me to leave. Being here any longer is bound to make him cry sooner.

"Of course we will," I reassure him, but I don't think my words do much to make him feel any better. It might make him worse off because he'll keep seeing me while knowing he can't be with me.

I make my leave before he says anything else because I know it'll hurt him to say anything more. I close the doors to the club, and I let out a sigh. I can feel my hands shaking from the event. I didn't want to do that to Kizano, and I can only hope we can move on from this. To let us both think this is some sort of shared dream that never actually took place in the physical world. But this is reality. The cool feeling of the club door and the eyes of other students wondering what happened makes it apparent that this is our reality. We're living in a world where we will be yearning for each other.

He'll be loving me from afar, while I wished that I loved him like how he loves me.

As I turn to leave this section of the hallway, I am met with the sight of one of the student council members. It's Akane Toriyasu, one of the few members who will be leaving. She always creeped me out in a way, and I never liked to admit it because it sounds mean. Her eyes are always closed, but she can see you clearly. Her constant positive energy is a bit chilling, too.

She stands watching me, even though it doesn't look that way. I can feel her analyzing me, maybe even scrutinizing me. I'm sure she can tell that I'm sad and even frustrated. A contrast to her bright smile and her equally bright aura. I look at her too, but I'm the one who leaves first. I'm sure she would've left soon, too, but I couldn't stand being there much longer.

Not when I could hear Kizano's pain filled cries piercing through the door, it triggers my eyes to get glossy and for my lip to tremble in reaction.

I look away from her and leave for the nearest bathroom.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

During my trip to the bathroom, I was able to pick myself back up and get myself back together before class started. I did my best to ignore my guilt, but it’s a hard task to do.

It's lunchtime now, and I'm unsure who I should be with. Kizano is out of the picture, it's best if I don't talk to him today. That leaves me with the siblings, Ayato, or Osoro. Saikou could be on the list, but I’m worried that he has been told about what happened earlier, and I don’t have the guts to talk to him about it if he asks me about it. I should see Osoro after school since it'll give us more time to talk, and I do want to eat right now. The siblings are most likely going to ask me what happened, Taeko being the one who is going to ask me while the other two watch.

Ayato is the best for right now. He doesn't know that I talked with Kizano, and I do want to talk to him about tomorrow.

I didn't think I would ever have these thoughts, but I would really like to talk to Ayato right now and tell him everything. I just need to find him.

I go looking for him, but as I go through each hallway, I feel a sense of unease because of the student council members lurking in every corner. I know they’re watching me. This isn't some new type of paranoia festering inside of me. They are monitoring me. Analyzing and scrutinizing everything I do so they can come to a conclusion on whether or not to let me in.

I finally find Ayato, and I feel so relieved to see him. He was walking through the halls. I run up to him and wave. He stops walking and waits for me to catch up to him.

"Ayato!" I greet him as I slow down, "I was looking for you." I walk closely to him, and I hope I'm not coming off as too clingy. I don't want him to get uncomfortable with me.

Now I'm debating on whether to tell him about what Saikou told me. The offer isn't bad, but it could change things for us next year. I'll probably have to stick with the student council members. I don't see them hang out with anyone. Will I be like that? Will I abandon everyone because I'll hold more importance than them? Will I even be cut out to be a student council member? They are the precedent for everything. They are people who the student body should aim to be, but I don't think I fit that build.

I'm thinking too much about an opportunity that's not even mine yet. Saikou made it clear that they will come to a conclusion at the end of the week, so all this overthinking could be for absolutely nothing in the end.

"You seem deep in thought," Ayato comments as we start to walk up the stairs to the rooftop. He was in front of me, but now he's next to me, looking closely at me.

"Oh! Yeah, I am," I answer him as I look away. Shyness taking over me from the fact he was able to catch on easily to my dazed state. I was hoping he wouldn't question me.

Ayato looks at me and asks me a question that will be hard to dodge, "What are you thinking about?"

To be fair, I could lie and carry on, but I'm not a great liar, and it could be helpful to have someone to talk to about it.

Why not?

I'll tell Ayato about what Saikou proposed to me yesterday.

"Yesterday, Saikou came to talk to me after the play," this clearly piques Ayato's interest and he looks more heavily engrossed into the conversation than before, "He told me that they are looking for new people to be members of the student council. You know, how he's leaving? Two others are leaving, too. This leaves three spots to be filled. Two are already filled by upcoming first-years, but he recommended me for the last spot. The members are currently deciding if they should let me in, so it's not official or anything, but I keep thinking about what if they do think I'm worthy of being in there with them? Should I say yes or no?"

I finish my explanation and thoughts about what I should do. I see Ayato close his eyes and start to think. Is he thinking about whether or not I should join or not? Is he going to give me a clear answer or tell me it's up to me? I hope he gives me his own opinion because I can't even decide whether I should join.

"Join," his words ring in my ears, and I sit in shock. Why does he have to be so blunt at times like this? It doesn't help me and my feelings, but I need to hear his reasoning.

I nod my head at his answer, "Why? I'm happy you gave me an answer, but why did you pick that?"

"Because it will do you good. It's a lot of responsibility, but you could help students. Isn't that what you want?" Ayato's answer is thoughtful, and I can see now why he would come to that conclusion. I could help students or even the school as a whole. I could propose new ideas to make the school safer, but I think back to what Saikou said at the play when he went on stage.

Saikou is planning to do something to make the school safer, but what is it? What is he planning? He already installed numerous cameras around the school. Metal detectors would be my next guess, or maybe police officers on standby if anything were to happen.

I purse my lips at the thought of being some sort of help, and the idea still doesn't fit in my mind. What could I do for the school community that could help?

I just nod my head, letting Ayato come to the conclusion that I agree to his idea of joining. Even though a part of me is still hesitant at the thought.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

I have one last person I have to talk to, and that's Osoro.

I really don't know how this is going to go. He is finally going to tell me what he feels, but my mind starts to think about what that could be.

Is it love?

I'm scared that might be the answer to why he is treating me a certain way. His possessiveness is questionable if I believe he sees us as friends. I have never encountered a friend before who is this possessive over my attention and time. It feels more like that of a clingy lover who gets jealous easily, which perfectly describes Osoro in this situation.

I grab my bag that is hanging off the hook of my desk, and I start to make my way over to where the delinquents are. I'm sure most of them are there right now, but they could also be gone. They usually don't stay after school for long, but since Osoro is still on campus, they may be here too.

As I walk, I see students going to their clubs, participating in clean-up duty, or leaving school to go somewhere else. I make my way to one of the doors that will lead me directly to the delinquents hangouts. When I get closer, I can hear the loud radio they usually listen from playing catchy but obscene music. I can barely hear them, but they are definitely talking to each other. I tighten the hold on my bag strap, and I reveal myself to them.

I can see all of them stop what they're doing. One of them who's sitting on the ground lowers the music of the radio. They all look at each other before one of them lets out a chuckle. "If you're looking for your owner, he's in there with the incinerator. Probably jacking off," he whispers the last part to himself before one of the other delinquents elbows him, and he lets out a sound of pain.

I nod before walking past them, and they turn the music back up before going back to talking. I walk into the area where the incinerator is located and see Osoro sitting on a pile of boxes, which leaves me in awe at the fact they are strong enough to hold his weight.

"You came," Osoro rises from his cardboard throne and walks over to me, and stands in front of me. He towers over me, and I start to feel small. I look up to him, and I see his golden eyes sweep over my frightened form.

"Of course I did," I tell him, "It's the least I could do for you."

He nods in response and lets out a sigh, "I really need a smoke." His comment catches me off guard, but it makes sense. He must feel stressed out.

"Got one here, boss," one of the delinquents offers as he stands at the entrance while holding a cigarette between his fingers. I take notice that they must be listening to us since he was quick to offer something that Osoro was requesting.

"Hand it over," Osoro orders him, and the delinquent places it in his hand before leaving. Osoro rummages through one of the pockets of his tattered jacket and pulls out a red lighter. He lights the cigarette and takes a drag from it. He turns around to me and walks back over.

"It's hard for me to tell you how I feel, but I need to tell you," Osoro states before taking another puff from the cigarette, its ashes hitting the dirty, white tiles of the incinerator area, "You've changed me in some way, (Y/N)."

"How so?" I question him, wanting more answers from him. My hands were starting to get clammy at what he could say. It could be my imagination, but this moment felt more intimate than I thought it would. The way his golden eyes focus on my body and the close space between us gives it a tense, electrifying mood.

"God..." Osoro mutters under his breath, but I can hear him clearly, "I wished you caught on, but maybe you did... You feel like home to me, you know? Do you get what I'm trying to say?" Osoro looks like he is sweating more than me, but when I started to connect the dots of what he meant, shock takes over my body.

No... this isn't what he meant. I'm just overthinking what he's saying. Osoro views me as a good friend and nothing more. It has to be that, it has to be. He doesn't mean... he isn't in love with me in some way, right? Why would he? I'm nothing like his type, but to be fair, I don't know what his type is. But…I can't fit that box.

"You figured it out... I can tell. Tell me what you think," it almost sounds like he's begging to hear my response. He is desperate to hear what I'm thinking.

"Osoro, are you in love with me in some way?" I ask him, letting the question float around waiting for it to reach him. When it does reach him, he lets out a chuckle and puffs more smoke. He drops the cigarette on the ground, joining the ashes, and he stomps it out.

Osoro walks closer to me, but I stand my ground. I must've been right with my answer, and my heart squeezes at the thought. My heart clenches in fright at what this entails for me. Am I going to step into territory I can't return from? Is Osoro going to let me go if I reject him? What is his reaction going to be?

Osoro lifts my chin up and makes me look at him. My eyes look down when I get a close glimpse of his golden eyes. His eyes start to match the sight of the sky above us. Both possess a golden hue that is astonishing to look at. "Look at me, (Y/N)," Osoro tells me with a soft tone. I stop looking at the dirty ground, and I take a look at him.

"Let me kiss you," Osoro whispers into my ear, and I feel a tingling sensation run through my body. I can smell the smoke that is tangled with his breath, and it causes me to scrunch my nose at the scent. I can feel my mouth go dry at Osoro's request, and I feel trapped. I can't run from him because he might grab me in response, and the delinquents are just around the corner, and they could chase after me. Do I have no other choice but to let him kiss me?

"Let me, (Y/N). Even if it's only for today, let me know what it feels to kiss you," Osoro keeps whispering into my ear, trying to persuade me into giving in.

And it works.

I close the gap between us and I plan to pull away from him immediately, but Osoro grabs the back of my head and wraps his arms around my torso, keeping me in place as he captures my lips in a searing kiss. I can feel all his built-up love in one motion, and it makes me melt. I wrap my arms around him, and my eyes end up closing.

I can feel a whine leave my throat, and it seems to set Osoro on fire. He tries to get more noises out of me before he has to let go of me. He ends up succeeding, and I become flustered. Osoro eventually pulls away first and looks down at me. His grip tightens as if I'll disappear forever if he lets me go. I look away with a flushed face, and I take a step back from him.

I start to regret my actions. I didn't expect him to do all that with me. I planned to give him a quick kiss before backing away, but he surprised me. What’s going to happen now? Is he going to ask me out? Is he going to become more possessive over me because we kissed?

"You can go," Osoro's voice cuts through the silence and looks away from me. I didn't notice it, but he let go of me, and his hands were balled up. He must be holding himself back from letting me go.

I nod and leave. As I leave the area, the delinquents start to yell and cheer, running towards where Osoro is. They ignore me, which I'm thankful for.

I look down at my hands, and I can see that I'm shaking. It feels like I'm in a dream, and I wish I was. I wish I woke up now with the realization that nothing happened and I am free from regret. But this is my reality, and I have to live with the consequences of what I allowed today.

[starwriterulia]

Tomb of the Goshenite Stargazer Dragon - Chapter 6

SUBJECT MATERIAL WARNINGS FOR THIS FANFICTION ARE INCLUDED IN THE MASTERLIST POST OF MY BLOG AND THE FIRST CHAPTER OF THIS FANFICTION.

(Long A/N before cutoff, sorry!)

Bat divider by @violetbudd

Sun and moon divider by @saradika

Scene cut and creator support banner by @cafekitsune

Latest update: August 18, 2024. Added scene cut and "Support your creators by reblogging" banners. Added ⏭️ emoji below end of chapter banner with text explaining its function as a navigational button.

Chapter summary: Jason joins morning training. Wonder Woman, Zatanna and Damian arrive with Batman, who begins to scold the process before the Batkids remind Batman that they're working with a disabled person. The heroines talk with Faith about the asteroid belts that appeared when Faith came to Earth-33 and disappeared when she fixed the loophole she briefly explains, and how it was fixed, referring to Thalassic Space as a toy. Faith begins to age-regress when thinking about how she was unhappy due to her adoptive mom constantly taking away and breaking her favourite toys. Her favourite, a rabbit plush named Mr. Bunny, was the one tht was never taken away, but Faith herself threw him away when she was confirmed to be moving out; it was the toy she couldn't find online, and she shows the two closest pictures to the heroines and Batfamily.

She cries herself better in Batman's arms, then the group go to Faith's Dragon Tomb, inspired by Saarthal, to obtain her other two Relics and magic Astral Jester Costume. Faith successfully gains her full demigoddess powers and is given her items in a satchelbag, but afterwards, when one of the cat anthros guarding the final room exposes Faith's desires, the Batkids rightfully shout at Faith and leave, Batman leaving after speaking his mind in the way that only a father could. Martian Manhunter speaks to Wonder Woman and Zatanna over comms, offering to take Faith, but the heroines reply that they have another idea. Faith has delusions in the darkness left by Batman's cape as Wonder Woman and Zatanna walk Faith outside and through the portal, back to the Belfry, where the Batkids punish Faith on her way out. Batman gives Faith her belongings at the door, saying that he hopes she improves, then Batman slams the door. The heroines ask Faith if she'd like to be taken to a homeless shelter, or if she wants help. Faith, stuttering out of terror, asks for help. They ask Faith if she's OK with talkin to Oliver Queen and Dinah Laurel Lance, and Faith nods, then screams, as it was only 8 AM. They take to the sky for Star City, Washington.

A/N: (The night of writing this chapter:) Holy shit, I actually fucking went there!

(The day after writing this chapter, lightly revised the day after:) Y'all, I put my whole pussy in this chapter. It's got a lot of angst. PLEASE READ THE TAGS AND CONTENT WARNINGS! THIS CHAPTER GETS SUPER FUCKING REAL! 95% of this chapter is unedited, which I think speaks to its quality, and my skill as a writer, sorry to even imply towards having an ego, aaaaaa. But, yeah. I needed to confront myself about this. I've always been trying to just live, move on, and it was working until I started this fic, and I realised why I've been so passionate about it. It was time for me to talk to myself about that memory, and walk away from it, for good, and forever. In other words, I've literally punched my own face asdfsalkfj. What can I say? Things happen when you have too much brain juice at 1:30 AM!

Next chapter, another fandom will be added to the list!

That being said, I really hope this chapter is a good read! I think it's the best one I've written, so far. Thanks for reading, liking, replying and reblogging, everyone!

Also there's a spider in my bedroom, and I'm just like, please stay there, at the corner up the wall between my bed and the window, eat the flies, and don't come over here, otherwise you will die, thank you.

Fandoms: DC Comics, Batfamily, no Batcest, Thalassic Space (OC; takes inspiration The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Assassin's Creed: Black Flag, Silent Hill 2, Silent Hill 3, and other sci-fi, fantasy and horror titles, as well as original concepts, such as the science and lore of the galaxy.)

[In order of appearance] Characters: Faith Lawson (TBA; self-insert), Stephanie Brown (The Spoiler), Jason Todd (Red Hood), Barbara Gordon (Batgirl), Dick Grayson (Nightwing), Tim Drake (Red Robin), Bruce Wayne (Batman), Damian Wayne (Robin), Zatanna Zatara, Diana Prince (Wonder Woman), Dohannar Salmpho (OC), Wysherah Sōnā-Salmpho (OC), Ashanti Salmpho (OC).

Word Count: 10, 607 (post-revision; HOLY SHIT, THAT'S REAL? OH MY GOD, I REALLY DID WRITE THIS WITH MY PUSSY, DAMN!)

Content warning: Depressive, age-regression episode in which Faith talks about how her adoptive mother took away her toys, being more specific this time, and describes her favourite toy, Mr. Bunny, while showing similar pictures; fictional religious sermon in which Dohannar gives Faith all of her demigoddess powers; huge rational reaction from the Batkids following Tim's translation of Dohannar's offer; as Wonder Woman and Zatanna bring Faith out of the Dragon Tomb, Faith has a delusional panic attack in the darkness left by Batman's cape; the Batkids bully and mock Faith as she leaves with Wonder Woman and Zatanna.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7

Monday, February 12, 2024. 7:30 AM.

Faith and Stephanie, in daytime clothes, Faith wearing her olive green shirt with leggings, took turns using the toilet, the other brushing her hair or washing her hands and face. They descended, and Faith gasped, smiling, as she saw that Jason was loitering near the computer area, Dick, Barbara and Tim also present. "Oh my God, hi!" Said Faith.

Jason gave a warm smile. "Hi, Faith. Nice to finally meet you."

"Finally had a moment to spare?"

"Yeah. 'Should be fine until the evening. The others have been telling me that training's going well."

"Yeah, I haven't dislocated my knee yet, and I've still been having knee pops, but it's been going good."

"Good. Are you OK with going against me today?"

"I mean, I could try, sure!"

"All right, then."

"You should get some food in your tummy first, hon." Said Barbara. "There's eggs, bacon and toast for both of you, still on the stove and counter."

Stephanie said, "Oh, did Faith not tell y'all that she prefers sausage?"

"Oh, you do? Well, sorry, hon, we'll get some for you, for tomorrow."

"I mean, I'll eat it," Said Faith. "But yeah, that'd be nice, thanks." She and Stephanie filled a plate for themselves and sat at the table, eating quietly.

"'Thought you said she's a chatterbox." Jason said, sweeping his gaze among Dick, Barbara and Tim.

"Oh, she is," Said Tim. "But she can be quiet. It's not always time to ramble." Jason hummed.

Faith said, "Yeah, sometimes I've just got no loud thoughts, which is weird, 'cause there usually is. My brain is usually screaming. I have good mornings and days, sometimes, and sometimes it feels like they're really rare."

Jason hummed again. "Barbara said you take medication."

"Yeah, 75 miligrams of Quetiapine, and 25 miligrams of Quetiapine XR."

"Ah, OK. Do you do anything else to help with your mental health?"

"That isn't a distraction? Yeah, sometimes I make crafts or go outside. But it's winter, so I can't, right now."

"Eh, that's fair."

"Spring never comes fast enough, in Canada."

"Oh, that's right, you're from up north. How are you liking America?"

"Well, I've been to Texas for Easter of 2008 or '9 to see my adoptive dad's family."

"Oh, OK."

"She also hasn't been outside to actually experience America." Dick said, chuckling.

"Right. Well, you'd be screwed if we just let you loose now, even as a civi."

"Yep." Said Faith. She and Stephanie finished eating, then joined the group.

Dick said, "So, you've got the basics of how to prepare your body for combat, and how to react defensively. We're going to practice that today too, but we're thinking of teaching you how to land a proper blow, with accomodations for your little arms and hyptonia until Bruce has your gear ready, if you're willing to be really sore by the end of the day."

"Sure, that sounds good."

Batman entered the Belfry, accompanied by Robin, Wonder Woman and Zatanna. As they approached the Batkids, they watched Faith moving around Jason at a decent pace, who batted away her arms and legs with his own limbs and hit her ribs and appendages from time to time. Batman thought, 'No, no no no.' "Stop." He said.

"What's she doing wrong?" Jason replied.

"She's struggling to keep her eyes open and on her target because she's in pain, so she isn't hitting you as hard as she could be, and she isn't moving around you in an optimal way."

"Bruce, this is only her second day." Said Dick.

"If she keeps this up, it's going to become a habit, and that's not what we should be looking for."

"We're working with her, not against her. She's also not wearing any armour, so of course she's moving slower because of pain. In two days, she's been caught thirty-nine times, and had twenty-four falls from her knees popping. She's used to two pops with a possible fall every week, just from walking around and doing her job."

"Ow!" Faith cried, her right knee rotating and her leg flailing with it, momentum she used to distance herself from Jason, landing on her right leg, making Faith give a stuttered whimper as she held her left arm out and her other in front of her chest. Jason grabbed her left arm and pulled her close, and Faith put weight on her legs to move with Jason and swing behind him. "Ow, ow, ow!"

'She's letting him pull her muscles just to be able to move a little, that's not good. She shouldn't be doing that.'

Faith couldn't pry her arm from Jason's grasp. "Your enemy would have broken your arm by now." Jason said.

"I know! And they wouldn't let go of it, so I have to either not go behind and possibly fruitlessly work the front or sides, or take the beating, and losing is not what I'm trying to do here!"

Batman said, "What are you trying to do?"

"Get him down! 'Cause if he's on the ground, and he's not going to move, then I've won, and I can move on to the next!"

"Yes, but you should be fighting in a way that preserves your body and energy."

Barbara said, "Bruce, we've gone over this with her. We talk about her options while miming for at least fifteen minutes before we actually get moving. The only issue is that she's fragile. If you want to help, then give her something to wear already! We're doing all we can, and so is she!" The others hummed, nodding. Jason let go of Faith's arm.

"Ow." Faith shook out her limb, and massaged her muscles.

"Sorry, Faith."

"You're good, mmph."

"She's not the problem, Bruce. Her disability is." Said Jason.

Bruce quietly sighed. "You're right. I'm sorry. I was thinking about her like she's physically able, even though I've known from the beginning that she's not. You've all been doing the right thing." He opened one of his belt pockets, and pulled one end of a tailor's measuring tape with his left hand, the rest of the tape in his other hand. Faith's cheeks rose in a smile. It spread to Batman, a little. "How about we take your measurements now, and then I'll get out of your way?"

"Oh, you're not in the way." Faith said, approaching Bruce. He began to measure her right arm. "I just don't think you've had a kid with a disability like mine, before."

"No, I haven't."

"Hi, by the way, Wonder Woman and Zatanna!"

"Hi, Faith." Said Wonder Woman, she and Zatanna stepping around a little to get into Faith's field of view and Jason retreating to the desk area. "Would you mind chatting with us about Thalassic Space?"

"Sure, what are you wondering about?"

"You're able to make it exist and not-exist based on your faith on it, aren't you? That's how you manifestated your Animus, and why it vanished, right?"

"Yeah. They're my toys, but it's not always appropriate to play with them, so I pretend to be normal, like when I'm at work, and other times I'm too depressed to play with my toys. Did you find out that Urania's Celestial Globe is a Stage Prop when my faith is low?" Faith said. Bruce moved on to measure Faith's shoulders, chest and torso.

"Well, not just that." Said Zatanna. "The obisidian and goshenite asteroid belts appeared when you entered our world, though the ones near our sun had no magic, and they disappeared around five o'clock, last evening."

"Oh, that's because our sun isn't a magic sun."

"Ah."

"And they disappeared when Dick urged me to make a change so Ra's couldn't abuse the loophole."

"You made a loophole?" Zatanna sounded concerned.

"So, because Ra's is a demon, Platonia, the Nero Spirits and the Umbrella Man left him alone. He was allowed to enter Platonia whenever he wanted. And that could have, no, sorry, would have led to him finding out everything about Red Storm Earth and me, and learning about the Invitation of Nerobzal."

"Yes, Urania informed us, after you burned part of the forest behind Wayne Manor." Said Wonder Woman.

"It's awfully grim." Zatanna said to Faith.

Faith sounded defeated. "Sorry, I thought it made sense as a way to tie demons and monsters in to the lore of Thalassic Space."

"Oh, it does. Don't remove it just because you were made aware that you shouldn't let happen here so easily, OK?"

"I just want to be a good writer, is all."

"I didn't mean to say you're bad at writing." Zatanna said. Bruce started to measure Faith's hips, legs and feet, accounting for her deformed right foot.

"She's had a rough life." Said Stephanie. "Writers do this sorta thing all the time."

"That's true. I'm sorry, Faith, I really didn't mean to offend."

Faith sounded a little more confident. "No, you're fine. Ra's can no longer access Thalassic Space or its knowledge. He'll just see me as a girl with dragon powers and etcetera, relating to my Relics and magic Costume. Dick made me aware of the loophole, and now Apopis is blocking Ra's for good. There's no punishment, it's just a ban order."

"Good."

Faith sounded defeated, again, but her voice sounded child-like. "Are you here because you want me to end the story due to something bad happening elsewhere?"

"Oh no, is she about to age-regress?" Stephanie half-whispered to the other Batkids.

"I think so." Said Dick. Barbara nodded, she, Dick and Tim looking at Faith with pity.

"Oh, no. No, sweetheart." Zatanna said, holding Faith's wrists in her hands. "We need your faith! Otherwise, we can't observe the asteroid belts, and you won't be able to help us and the world, or yourself, in the future. We want you to succeed. And I know that your new friends in the Batfamily want you to be happy."

Faith's cheeks rose, but she looked sad. She said, monotonously, "I've never been happy before." Bruce paused, then resumed measuring Faith's left shin.

"Oh, that can't be true."

"All I remember is being alone," Faith began to cry. Zatanna moved her hands up to Faith's biceps. Her voice went full regression to that of a chlid's. "And my mom taking away my toys, like my dress-up lace fan that I was playing with one night that she broke in front of me, my Littlest Pet Shop collection that I apparently grew out of, like my Barbies, and I had Erica, and she's worth five hundred dollars now, and I'm sorry that I drew on her face, and then i had to throw away Mr. Bunny-hee-hee." Faith sobbed and lowered her head. Bruce stood, and put away the tailor's measuring tape.

"But that was because we'd just confirmed I was moving out, but I never got to take care of him, he hadn't been washed in years, and his neck was torn, but he was my favouri-ite, he was my friend and my roleplay buddy through all of the media I ever liked. When I put him in the garbage at the homestead, I," Faith pulled away from Zatanna and began to mime. "I laid down with him on my mattress on the floor in the cold room, 'cause I wasn't supposed to still be living with my parents, but I was so sad and scared of seeing Todd again and starving, and I knew I couldn't work a job because of my disability, wh-which I can, but it's really hard, and I," A pillow came flying from the bedroom upstairs into Faith's arms. "I kissed him and hugged him, I really hugged him." Faith did this to the pillow.

"And then I went out into the main room, I lifted up the lid, and I put him in the garbage. And my dad looked at me, I don't know what kinda, I-I think it was a face of concern, and then I went into my room to my laptop, and he opened the blanket that was the door for the cold room at the time, and he asked, "Are you OK, sweetie?", and I said, "Yeah, I'm OK. It's time." And he quietly told my mom, and she said, "Wow." And other things I didn't hear, but, but I just wi-hi-hi-hish!" Faith cowered to the floor, sitting on her knees. Zatanna and Bruce came down with her. Wonder Woman crouched as well, the next second.

"I wish I was allowed to take care of him! I wish Mom hadn't said that fourteen is too old for Barbie, and I wish she had told me why for all of the shit I did as a kid, 'cause I've always been better with more words, and now I'm just here! I'm here, with no Mr. Bunny, and no Dad, and even Milo is gone, my mom's Chihuahua is gone, and the trailer house we lived at is in shit condition, and I just wanna go home!" Faith wept loudly. Zatanna tsked and hugged Faith. Barbara wiped tears, Dick and Tim pouted and looked at each other, Stephanie sighed, staring at Faith's sad face, and Jason had a sympathetic expression as he looked at Faith.

"I'm sorry." Said Zatanna.

Tim said, "Mr. Bunny is new."

"Yep." Said Dick.

"I found a "Mr. Bunny" in one of the dumpsters outside." Jason said.

"Ew, Jason, no!" Barbara hissed.

Zatanna asked, "What did Mr. Bunny look like, Faith?"

Faith sounded normal. "Well, I tried finding him online, but I couldn't quite. I saved two pictures on my phone that, if put together, would be him, though." Stephanie picked up Faith's phone from the table and brought it over. Zatanna removed her hands from Faith's arms to let Faith unlock the phone, opened the Photos app, and go to Favourites as Batman and Wonder Woman stood behind Zatanna to look. She opened a picture of a blue and white floppy-eared 14" rabbit plush with black bead eyes, a pink nose, the framing of the toy implying a sewn smile, a pink bow with red stripes and a yellow border around its neck, white front paws, a white face and inner ears, and embroidered blue toe beans on its large hind feet.

"This one's got the toe beans Mr. Bunny had, and the inner ears, face, stomach and feet are all white, like his was." Faith swiped right. The next image was a pink and white floppy-eared 14" rabbit plush with the same black eyes, pink nose, white front paws and belly. The sewn smile was visible in this photo. The toy's hind paws were pink, the upper white area gathered into three toes, its inner ears were pink, and it had a pink ribbon bow around its neck. "But this one is the right colour, and has the right bow. But the bow was made of chifon, not silk."

"May we see too, Faith?" Said Barbara. Faith nodded and offered her phone to the air. Barbara came forward and took the phone, and looked at the photos with Dick. "Aw, I bet he was cute!"

"Yeah, cute." Dick said. Barbara gave the phone to Tim for him, Stephanie and Jason to look at.

"Huh, OK." Said Tim.

"Aw, I want a Mr. Bunny, too!" Stephanie said. Faith giggled.

"He looks cosy." Said Jason. Faith nodded, smiling softly. Tim locked Faith's phone and put it back on the table.

Faith looked at Batman , a tear falling from her left eye, and sobbingly said, "I miss him." Batman crouched with Faith, Zatanna and Wonder Woman joining a moment later. "But I can't find him, so I have to try and fill the space. No fictional person, no other toy is Mr. Bunny. He's why I love soft things. He's why I collect plushies. I have other friends, but I don't have him."

Batman hummed. "You had a very special friend."

Faith nodded, a tear falling from her right eye. "I did." Batman sighed and pulled Faith into his chest. Faith wailed. She cried for a whole minute.

'Zatanna? Wonder Woman?' Batman thought, as Faith cried.

'Yes, Batman?' Replied Wonder Woman.

'I think we've all seen, and from her stories gathered that Faith needs to cry badly.'

'Mhm.' Wonder Woman replied, she and Zatanna nodding.

'The two things she wants to cry about are her dad and Mr. Bunny. Because of the lectures she recieved from her adoptive mother, she feels that crying for herself is inappropriate, and considered a pity-party. She's only ever been able to cry alone.'

'Poor girl.' Zatanna thought.

'She likely knows that a therapist would understand and have the right thing to say, know the right actions to suggest. But she's been living this sad life for so long, with her body, that she can't believe in that advice, or begin on that path. That is, when she was alone, and had no friends.'

'Right.' Thought Wonder Woman. 'So, she's on the right track, now that she's got all of us.'

'Yes. We should go through with our plans for you to help her with her mystical arts,' Zatanna and Wonder Woman nodded. 'While my family helps her physical condition improve. We'll all do our part to help her mind and heart heal. Her visit to the group home only did so much. She came home to a family that loved her, yes, but they didn't talk to her, didn't ask questions that needed to be asked years ago, didn't apologise and amend for things that happened years ago.'

'It's time.' Thought Wonder Woman. Zatanna and Batman nodded. Faith sighed, panted twice, and burped.

"Better?" Batman inquired.

Faith nodded. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Stephanie!"

"Yeah?"

"Chalk!"

"Oh, you wanna do that now?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"You want to get your Relics and Costume." Said Zatanna, as Stephanie picked up the box of chalk from the desk and made her way over. "That's a great idea." Faith nodded, standing to recieve the chalk. Batman, Wonder Woman and Zatanna rose to their feet, as well.

"Oh, wait. I'm too short to draw a door. It doesn't have to be fancy, just tall enough for us to walk through."

"May I?" Said Zatanna. Faith nodded, a smile on her cheeks. They went to the wall opposite of the Belfry's entrance, Wonder Woman and Stephanie close behind, Batman a little father but also following, Dick, Barbara and Tim walking over to watch, Damian and Jason staying where they were. Zatanna drew a door on the wall with the chalk. Faith extended her right hand, palm towards the floor, and a drawer of the kitchen rattled. "Wait!" Faith closed her hand. "You'll hurt yourself, and not in the way you mean to!"

"Yeah, that's a good way to stab yourself, or lose your hand, Faith." Said Dick. Barbara and Tim nodded, humming different tones of agreement.

"Here." Batman closed the distance, and pricked Faith's right index finger with a needle.

"Oh, thank you." Faith wrote in the door: Tot thoe Checkpotinat otut'si'de otph thoe Totmab otph thoe Gotsihoenaite Sitafrgafzer Drafgotna, Laittlae Paftho, Thoafla'si'ic Sipafce.

"To the Checkpoint outside of the Tomb of the Goshenite Stargazer Dragon, Little Path, Thalassic Space." Batman read aloud.

"Yep! We're playing Skyrim, baby!" Faith laugh.

"Skyrim, baby!" Stephanie echoed, she, Barbara, Dick, Zatanna and Wonder Woman laughing with Faith. Faith knocked on the wall eight times. The chalk outline became a portal, oulined in white-blue light, to a snowy hill overlooking a hole in which scoffolding led down to a pair of Nordic iron doors.

"Behold! Saarthal, but it's different inside!" Said Faith. "No need to worry about the portal, this area of Little Path is deserted, except for wildlife. The only thing that'll maybe come through are rabbits, foxes and Pixies. This hill has no hostile enemies." Batman heard the doors opening again, and two pairs of footsteps.

"OK." Said Zatanna. "Let's go, then." Faith nodded, and led Zatanna, Stephanie, Wonder Woman, Batman, Dick, Barbara and Tim inside. They walked the scaffolding, and Faith opened the doors. They crossed the first half of the excavation via the remnants of stone bridges of the pillars and the wooden ramps that had been built to access the second chambers with connected passageways.

"Wow, this is literally Saarthal." Said Tim.

"Yes, it's exactly Saarthal, until the last room." Faith said.

"Garf!" "Grr-arf!" Said the four large, amorphous, earthen masses of brown slime shuffling about below.

"What are those?" Asked Jason.

"Slicks. SCP-999, but they eat waste, and they're made from dirt, sand and clay."

"Ha! Nice." Said Tim.

"Depending on what you feed them, they give things back, or make fireworks, gemstones or copper, silver or gold coins, which are called Gore, Grief and Guilt. Left-wing things."

"Right." Said Wonder Woman.

"They're commonly placed in dumpsters and outhouses, and are used by organic-favouring mages and alchemists as vacuum cleaners. Their natural habitats are sewage lines and landfills."

"So you've got both helpful and harmful creatures, OK." Said Zatanna.

"Yeah! Like, there's also Wicks, which are furnace slimes, often used by blacksmiths and also used to keep houses warm." Faith entered the passageways with scattered alchemy ingredients. "Even poor families are allowed one, so no stories of people freezing to death happen unless the Wick has been eaten by a Wyrm, spelled with a y. Wingless dragons with long tails. They're exactly the ones from The Lord of the Rings Online."

"Ah, OK. So you really have put a bunch of things that you liked from other stories into your own. I like that."

Stephanie said, "Yeah, isn't it cool?" Zatanna nodded, humming.

"Aw, thank you. Um, there's also Shifts, which are literally danger brooms." Faith pressed her hand to the wall where the Amulet of Saarthal would have been, a Double Eight in its place. It hummed and shone at her touched, and the way forward opened.

"Danger brooms?" Wonder Woman chuckled.

"Yeah! Imagine a stickman, but covered in sharp bristles. And they shake like nuts, and they pierce through anything weaker than chainmail." Faith said, reaching the lever and opening the gate into a circular room with ten vertical coffins. "Oh, and don't worry about the draugr. They can smell me, so they're assuming you're with me until I call for help." She led the others inside and around the right side of the room. "Shifts are technically insect demons. You know those really spiky caterpillars?"

"Ohhh."

"Yeah, they're inspired by those, weird colours and all." Faith stopped at the door to Saarthal proper. "Uh, and those are like, the basic four monsters of Thalassic Space. Most of the rest are literally or inspired by mythology, or some kind of animal that's been mutated." Wonder Woman hummed. Faith pulled the chains to open the door, and led the group into the antechamber.

They passed the draugr, and Faith crouched and touched the fire rune trap at the first turn, causing it to break with the sound of falling ashes. They walked on to the iron door, strode past the burial niches, and Faith walked the north wall, touching each stone pillar as she went to display Eagle, Snake and Whale. "Tim, do you have the pillars along the south wall?"

"Yep." Tim replied, turning the other three pillars to show Whale, Eagle and Eagle. The group stepped past the puzzle gate and down the stairs into a large room. Faith waved her right hand in front of the cobwebbed doorway, and the webs disappeared. She crouched to deal with a shock rune trap along the way, and another at the entrance to the next room, which had four pillars and a lever in the middle. The heroes noticed three feline people lounging on a dark blue chaise and a matching long sofa in front of a fireplace in the next room.

Faith said as she walked, "Southeast." She touched the pillar. The felines looked at each other, and began to cry.

"Northeast." Tim touched this pillar. The grey tabby feline rose from the chaise, where a calico feline sat. The other, a white feline, was seated on the couch.

"Southwest."

"And northwest. Who wants to pull the lever?"

"May I?" Said Barbara.

"Sure!" Said Faith. Barbara pulled the switch. The gate forward opened. "Woo hoo!"

"Faith?" An alto voiced grey tabby feline gingerly said, approaching the doorway. She was 5'7" tall.

Faith moved her eyes and head from Barbara to the feline, and sounded like she was going to cry. "Wysherah." She whimpered, stimulating her little forearms with excited shakes, and hurried into the arms of the cat as the other felines rose and came over.

Wysherah hugged Faith kindly, purring into the girl's head. "Yes, hello, Starwriter. Welcome back."

"Phafitho." The tenor voiced calico said, his voice distorted by the strain in his throat. He was 6" tall.

"Dohannar." Faith was smoothly released from Wysherah into Dohannar. His hug was firm, and he desperately nuzzled his neck over Faith's head, and his face over hers.

"Mayl thoird qutafrter, mayl siutna."

"What's he saying?" Stephanie quietly asked.

"'My third quarter, my sun.'" Batman translated.

Wysherah said, "I am his first, his faith in Vishnu is his second, she is his third, and our daughter," She looked to the third cat, who was 5'1" tall. "Ashanti, is his fourth. Ashanti would not have been born again after my murder if Faith, as Faina, had not found my kitten as she laid alone, in the Ninth Circle's Perimeter, when Faina was hiding from Nero Dionysus, as he was chased by the Demon Hunters." Dohannar stopped nuzzling all over Faith, and held her as he purred.

"Mothers and children are precious to all worthy gods, and so when I and Ashanti died, we were to be reborn. But because Nerobzal was in Yahweh's mind, we could not reach our bardo, and our karmas were pulled through space. Eighty-three years passed before Dohannar was freed from enslavement to Nero Ba'al Berith by Canon Michael, and then he summmoned Faina, and that led to Ashanti's and my freedom." Wysherah said. Dohannar ended the hug, gently playing with Faith's hair starting from her scalp, Faith giggling.

"But I was scared to be pregnant with Ashanti again, as Kaleido was still active. Dohannar and I gave our memories of Ashanti, when she was in my womb," Dohannar removed his hand from Faith's head, and the two stood and listened to Wysherah. "And her soul to Faina, who I am sure you know is the third incarnation of the O-type star's spirit, and a Soul Fragment of Faith representing autumn, a season of harvest, cool weather, and festivities regarding thanks for Gaia before Old Man Winter comes to cover the cold lands with his white robe. As I was days away from my due date, so was Faina, when Dohannar laid with her using the Cult of Asherah ritual Faina had found in the Deep Sea City of Yotutrnaeyl, one of the secrets Nero Dionysus had been hiding and using to abuse the merfolk of Yotutrnaeyl. Ashanit's birth led to Nerobzal's defeat, and Faina, and through her, Faith, overcame her fear of pregnancy and childbirth. Ashanti, and the idea of her, is a promised child with great love, kindness and courage, born at last with the power of trust, friendship, and the divine grace of Asherah, a life born to remember who Yahweh is supposed to be to men, women and children."

"Wow." Said Barbara.

"Faith wrote that, too?" Said Stephanie.

"Yes." Said Wysherah.

"Damn, that's fire!" Stephanie said. Wysherah chuckled with Barbara, Dick, Tim, Batman, Wonder Woman and Zatanna.

"I think it's easy to surmise that you're named after Asherah and the word 'wish'." Said Wonder Woman.

"Yes, but wish is spelled with a y." Wysherah made eye contact with Faith. "You're here to retrieve your birthrights and recieve the sermon to officiate yourself as Ulia-Ønske, yes?"

"Yes, and return my tooth, as my powers are awake now, so it can be where it belongs until I die again and am reborn or resurrected." Faith summoned the tooth out of the air into her right hand.

"Very good. Let's go together. Guests: when we arrive at the island, please do not pass the golden tiles in front of the double-coffin and altar, unless you want to fight the Dragon Priests." Wysherah walked through the next room, Dohannar and Faith behind her. Ashanti meowed and lunged into a hug, Dohannar holding Faith steady as Faith laughed and hugged Ashanti.

"Hi, baby girl." Said Faith.

"Hi, Mama!" Said Ashanti, a soprano-range teenager. Faith walked with Ashanti attached to her, Dohannar just behind to Faith's right. The heroes noted several chests with treasure, near the door to the puzzle, three dressers and wardrobes and two beds, a queen and a double, to the upper left, the lounge area to the lower left, a table set with four chairs to the upper right, and an empty space with a beautiful purple, blue and magenta carpet to the lower left.

"This is room much bigger and different than the one in-game." Said Tim.

Faith said, "I had to make a little home for my cats, my," She looked at Dohannar, redness in her cheeks. "My wish family." Dohannar smiled softly, and caressed her right cheek with his left paw-hand. As they approached the door, Wysherah pushed it open.

"Holy mega structures. This room is three times as big, as in Skyrim." Said Tim. Before them was a very long arching bridge surrounded by water, and at its end an island of stone with ten standing sarcophagi and an open coffin made for two, and a stone altar. The stone walls were given depth and colour by the gold painted vines, some parts unpainted as moss and mushrooms had grown with the flowers.

"This bridge is 287 paces." Batman thought aloud.

"Wow!"

"Correct." Said Wysherah.

The first thirty paces was built with smooth grey stone that became clay bricks with unique rocks, held together by wet dirt and coloured by yellow sand. Along its railings were many candles, some melted and the wick folded into the wax, others close to nothing and the wick barely alight, more halfway burned and more yet seemingly new and tall. There were flowers, perennials and annuals, and wooden vines painted gold strewn about the stone floor and draped over the railing. Pages with children's drawings of a golden tree read 'At'fman Lawbzal' and sometimes also 'Farewell and warm wishes for the next life of the Last Son of Bartholomew, Argophael, Animus of the Lost Daughter, Ulia-Ønske, Ego of that Animus and First Life of the Great Little Starwriter, who shall both rest here until Ulia-Ønske is reborn by the grace of the pantheons as Faith Lawson', written by older children or adults. Other pages had letters to Argophael and-or Ulia-Ønske, the golden tree drawn somewhere. Gemstones and polished rocks scattered about the pages, sometimes buried in the wax. Dirt, sand, and clay gave natural texture to the bridge from the thirty-first pace until the 287th.

Batman said, "Slicks and Wicks are made from dirt, sand and clay. They made the bridge longer, as the years went on."

Wysherah said, "Yes. They come here to die, sometimes. They live for two years, if they do not return to planet Grace for a week every other month. Grace is where their mother, Darisela, a canine earth elemental, lives. Their father is Decelep, a sea and sky serpent, and the only son of Mother Mermaid, who needs no man to procreate, and who terraformed planet Grace after the O-type star collided with the M- and G-type stars. The magic of the Slicks and Wicks ensures that this bridge, and all of the notes and flowers, do not weather, and allowed the bridge to expand as the pantheons and their children, and their followers, told the story of Argophael and Ulia-Ønske to Thalassic Space. The planet we occupy now, Little Path, is where Father Dragon lives with the Dragon Kin, away from the blades and cruel magic of Kaleido, before Kitsch was corrupteed to be so, and after it was reclaimed as Kirei."

"Italian vampires to Japanese vampires." Said Dick.

"Yes. Little Path and its moon, the Realm of Tree Peoples, were created by Father Dragon. While you now have context about who sculpted Grace, it might interest you to know that Bafsina was molded by the Tree Peoples, who travelled to the planet when they bulit spaceships, twenty-one years after they had spawned from the departed of Earth in the early 1600's. Bafsina is mostly water with islands, Plains and small continents, of course, and because of this is more of a water planet than Grace is, with two large continents and numerous islands and Plains, but not as many as Bafsina hosts."

"Huh." Said Dick. "So who terraformed planet Sia and Judge?"

"May I suggest you reverse the order, when listing them in the future, as sia means six?"

"Oh, yeah sure, sorry."

"It's not a worrysome thing, just a note. Judge was terraformed by the earliest citizens and lucid dreamers who visited the Dream World on Paper. That's why Krampus took hold of it so easily."

"Oh, Krampus did more than slaughter the Snow Elves and Astral Elves?"

"Yes. Judge is the place he occupied, afterwards. And no one was brave and foolish enough to challenge him until Bafsina was united after the Palette Civil War, and now Krampus lives in Platonia with his father, Nerobzal, and so does Bartholomew, who brought evil to both Grace and Yotutrnaeyl, as the transgender pirate captain Arles led the sea efforts to damage the Naglfar enough that the dead spilled into the ocean and were devoured by the corrupted merfolk that the Cloud Casters had lured from the Deep Sea City of Yotutrnaeyl, where Nero Dionysus had used his powers of debauchery to control Canon Poseidon. This feast upon the dead cancelled out the evil that Nero Dionysus had bloomed in the Five Mortal Qualities of the merfolk, who were immediately called to action by the Mermaid Mage Celia Nacre from planet Grace, and together, with the pirate ships and the natural winds, rain and dangerous tides of the squall, the Naglfar sunk into the ocean of Thalassic Space until it reached the space of Thalassic Space, to be there and be impossible to reach or summon ever again."

"Wow. That's really good stuff, Faith."

"Thank you!"

"As for Sia: it's a planet of dark forests, treacherous mountains and ravines, and rivers and lakes of dark magic coloured waters sculpted by the Passerine Sisters, Nero Spirits so powerful that they were declared as demons by Canon Lucifer and the Flytower Gods. Their Bird Personas, seen by the Oracles in dreams, were fated to be the houses of Cedillo Imagination Magic Academy, and the behaviours of each bird inspired the personality and life of each sister and the kind of student that the school phoenix, Illumine, would assign to each house. The Lightless Realm and Lightful Realm are Sia's moons, but are only visible when traversing Platonia."

"How did the room itself expand?" Asked Tim.

"Dohannar and I did the work. The candles melt, as they do naturally, and are replaced if the worshipper who placed it still lives. This bridge was only fifty paces, when Argophael and Ulia-Ønske, died. 687 years have passed, as you for sure know."

"Wow." Said Barbara, breathily. "This is all so much more than you described to us, Faith."

"Well, I was trying to be brief." Faith replied.

"True."

Wysherah said, "Were you told that the waters are from Pierian Spring?"

"Yeah." Said Barbara.

"Did Faith, or perhaps a visiting Urania, mention to anyone that they have healing properties?"

"Yes," Said Wonder Woman. "Frejya and Freyr brought Ønske to the spring, after she was severely wounded by a beast."

"Yes, that's right." Wysherah said. The group eventually came to the island. Everyone but the cats and Faith stopped in front of the golden tiles. Faith paused and glanced left, at the open coffin. It was made of stone, and the left side was lined with blue satin, the other side with white satin.

"What does he look like, Faith?" Stephanie asked. Dohannar and Wysherah proceeded to the altar, Dohannar standing in front and opening the closed tome bound in white and blue dyed leather, and Wysherah standing at the left side of the altar.

"Nero from Devil May Cry." Faith said.

Stephanie failed to not laugh, stifling it in her throat. "Sorry."

"No no, you're fine. Him, but cuter. With my round face, and my nice, round cheeks, and big, round eyes, but with Nero's jawline, white hair and blue eyes."

"Ah."

"I thought that, if I could be a boy, I would want to look like that."

"Aw, that's nice."

"Thank you. Flashing lights and eye-strain warning, by the way." Faith said. She continued, and stopped at the altar, in front of which stood Dohannar, Wysherah to the left. Ashanti broke away from Faith and stood to the right of the altar. Faith knelt in front of Dohannar with both knees, her head bowed and her hands flat on her stomach, left hand over her right.

"If you would all please kneel, on one knee or both, in respect to the pantheons and the O-type star's spirit that is within Faith, and Argophael, who is resting yet shall also contribute to the ritual in that he is her Animus." Said Wysherah. Stephanie, Barbara knelt with both knees, Dick, Tim, Wonder Woman and Zatanna knelt with one knee, all readily. Batman did with one knee, the next second, and several seconds later, so did Jason, also with one knee. "Thank you. Batman, since you seem to understand Neofom, you are welcome to translate Dohannar's sermon, which has Four Declarations." Batman nodded. Wysherah and Ashanti raised their arms to the ceiling and began to chant At'fman Lawbzal repeatedly with two seconds between each repetition.

Dohannar removed the white ebony dagger and scallop seashell necklace from the altar, where there was also a closed tome. As he spoke, he placed the necklace over Faith's head for her to wear, and cut a shallow cross with the dagger on her upper chest, Faith's closed eyes wincing. Dohannar placed the dagger in front of Faith, on the floor. He said, "Utnaresitinag eylesi otph thoe pafnathoeotna, wae cotma'afnad ylotut tot lot'k aft thoisi waotma'na, afnad remaemaber thoaft sihoe wa'si Ulia-Ønske, dafutghoter otph Víðarr afnad Skuld, photsitered byl Frejya afnad Freyr, maenatotred byl Urania afnad Uriel, afnad thoaft sihoe isi thoe otnoe afnad otnalayl vesi'ela afnad ma'naiphesitaftiotna otph thoe Ot-tylpe sitafr'si sipirit, phorever afnad ever, ina eafcho laiphe, ina eacho yleafr, afnad ina eafch gafla'xyl afnad utnaiversie."

As Dohannar spoke, Batman translated. "Unresting eyes of the pantheon, we command you to look at this woman, and remember that she was Ulia-Ønske, daughter of Víðarr and Skuld, fostered by Frejya and Freyr, mentored by Urania and Uriel, and that she is the one and only vessel and manifestation of the O-type star's spirit, forever and ever, in each life, in each year, and in each galaxy and universe."

Dohannar paused after the First Declaration, and Wysherah and Ashanti pumped their arms in the air, saying. "At'fman Lawbzal!" With a little more volume, not quite a shout.

Dohannar said with a kind tone, "Utnaresitinag hoafnads otph thoe pafnatheotna, wae cotma'nad ylotut tot blaesi thoe Phive Maotrtafla Quaflaitiesi otph thoisi waotma'na, afnad waho'la'yl maerge thoema waitho tho'sie otph Ulia-Ønske siot thoaft sihoe ma'y' phulafphila' hoer Rotlae afsi Pla'ywarighot otph thoe Rotnadot Thoeaftre afnad Greaft Laittlae Sitafrwariter, waitho afla' otph hoer Persiotna'si: thoe Gotsihenoite Sitafrgafzer Drafgotna, Skinne, si'red byl Skjør afnad birthoed afnad besitotwaed byl Frodig; Solas thoe Phafiryl Persiotna' afsi besitotwaed byl Duna; Ønske thoe Maerma'id Persiotna' afsi besitotwaed byl Urania; afnad hoer Nerot Persiotna', Odeya." Faith suddenly shone bright white-blue. "Ma'yl thoesie potwaersi prot'ect hoer afnad phrienads photr thoe got'd otph laiphe afnad af'terlaiphe, phorever afnad ever, ina eafcho laiphe, ina eafch yleafr, afnad ina eafch gafla'xy' afnad utnaiversie."

"Unresting hands of the pantheon, we command you to bless the Five Mortal Qualities of this woman, and wholly merge them with those of Ulia-Ønske so that she may fulfill her Role as Playwright of the Rondo Theatre and Great Little Starwriter, with her Personas: the Goshenite Stargazer Dragon, Skinne, sired by Skjør and birthed and bestowed by Frodig; Solas the Fairy Persona as bestowed by Duna; Ønske the Mermaid Persona as bestowed by Urania; and her Nero Persona, Odeya. May these powers protect her and friends for the good of life and afterlife, forever and ever, in each life, in each year, and in each galaxy and universe."

Dohannar paused again, and Wysherah and Ashanti pumped their arms again, saying, "At'fman Lawbzal!" At a controlled shout.

Dohannar raised his voice, but did not shout. "Utnaresitinag voticesi otph thoe pafnathoeotna, wae cotma'nad ylotut tot si'nag," Feminine and masculine voices began to fill the air with beautiful sounds. "Wae cotma'nad ylotut tot siho'ut," Voices joined that shouted with courage and pain. "Wae cotma'nad ylotut tot cryl," Voices sobbed, calling for Ulia, Ønske, Argophael, and others the heroes didn't recognise, but soon realised were the names of loved ones. "Photr thoisi waotma'na hoafsi retutrnaed tot hoer ho'mae afmaotnagsit ylotut, afnad wae cotma'nad ylotut tot laofve hoer totdafyl afsi sihoe wa'si laofved ina thoe pafsit byl ylotut afnad ylotutr peotplae," A truly massive stargazer lily, pink, yellow and white, suddenly bloomed from the center of the ceiling, releasing delicate golden sparkles that showered the cat anthros and people below. Jaws were dropped and smiles were shown by the Batkids, and Wonder Woman and Zatanna smiled and chuckled. The two heroines looked at Batman and saw a little smile on his face as he looked down from the big flower at Faith. "Afnad byl thoe peofplae thoaft thoe Ot-tylpe sitafr birthoed afnad givesi ho'mae, lfighot afnad ma'gic tot, afnad ylotutr bafrdsi afnad Pla'ywarighotsi, ylotutr choiladrena afnad thoeir photla'otwaersi, enatertafinamaenat afnad cotma'utnaityl, lotversi afnad phrienadsi, maeafnainag ina laiphe afnad ina afphterlaiphe."

"Unresting voices of the pantheon, we command you to sing, we command you to shout, we command you to cry, for this woman has returned to her home amongst you, and we command you to love her today as she was loved in the past by you and your people, and by the people that the O-type star birthed and gives home, light and magic to, and your bards and Playwrights, your children and their followers, entertainment and community, lovers and friends, meaning in life and in afterlife."

Dohannar stopped, and Wysherah and Ashanti repeated their motion and shouted louder, "At'fman Lawbzal!"

Dohannar shouted loudly, "Utnaresitinag Phlayltotwaer! Cotmae! Cotmae afnad siee thoisi choilad, cotmae afnad siee thoisi waotma'na!" The ceiling opened up to space as Dohannar called for the Flytower to come and see, and many eyes of different colours and shapes attached to different faces took the place of each star. "Cotmae afnad grafnat hoer afla' thoaft sihoe hoafsi ma'de," Seven magic circles, familiar to Batman and Tim, appeared over seven particular pairs of eyes, identifying each deity. "Afnad afla' thoaft sihoe cafna ma'ke, afnad laet ylotutr pafsitsi afnad phut'utresi ina pafrt be expresi'ed thorotutgho hoer breaftho afnad afrt," Three pieces of construction paper, blue, purple and pink, appeared and flew around Faith. "Thorotutgho hoer botdyl afnad ma'gic," The white-blue shine around Faith merged with her body.

"Unresting Flytower! Come! Come and see this child, come and see this woman! Come and grant her all that she has made, and all that she can make, and let your pasts and futures in part be expressed through her breath and art, through her body and magic,"

"Afnad laet it be reyoticed afnad resipected byl everyl bafrd afnad Pla'ylwarighot,"

"And let it be rejoiced and respected by every bard and Playwright,"

The sky shouted, "HOORAH!"

"Byl afla' choiladrena afnad photla'otwaersi,"

"By all children and followers,"

"HOORAH!"

"Photr enatertafinamaeant afnad cotma'utnaityl,"

"For entertainment and community,"

"HOORAH!"

"Afnad photr laotversi afnad phrienadsi, tot deiscribe maeafnaiang ina laiphe afnad afphterlaiphe!"

"And for lovers and friends, to describe meaning in life and afterlife!"

"HOORAH!"

"AT'FMAN LAWBZAL!" Wysherah and Ashanti screamed, beams of white light bursting from their hands and phasing into space, and collecting every eye, magic circle and voice above until the ceiling had returned, and, with shouts of great endeavour, released all of the light, space, divine eyes, sounds and colours into Faith, who flashed the colours of the magic circles eight times, Batman counted. Faith sighed and opened her eyes, her hot breath white-blue. Dohannar applauded, an proud smile on his feline features, and Faith stood, meeting Dohannar's gaze with love. Wysherah and Ashanti lowered their arms and applauded with adoring smiles too, and Faith looked at them lovingly as well.

"You may applaud too, if you would like." Said Wysherah.

"You may now also stand." Ashanti quickly said.

"Faith has now fully become a demigoddess!"

"Woo hoo!" Said Stephanie and Barbara, immediately clapping along and getting to their feet, as did Tim, Dick, Wonder Woman and Zatanna, Batman standing and clapping a second later, Jason barely a second afterwards. Damian did not applaud, but he did stand.

"Yay!" Said Tim.

"Yay, Faith!" Dick said.

"Congrats." Jason said.

"My eyes hurt, but that was sort of cool." Said Damian.

"Damian." Said Batman.

"Sorry. It was... it was pretty freaking cool." Damian clapped along, Batman noting that it was with normal energy, which made him thankful. "Very fancy. I imagine this entire scene has increased the word count by seventy-five percent."

"Yeah, that's about right!" Said Faith, bending down to pick up the dagger. Dohannar draped leather satchelbag with a white leather sheath over Faith's right shoulder. "Thank you." Faith said, sheathing the dagger.

"Thank you, Damian." Batman said. The applause ended.

"Thanks for even coming through the portal, Damian." Faith said, looking at the boy. "You didn't have to. Thanks to you too, Jason. I know you don't like magic."

"Well, it's not every day you get to see, well, this." Jason said. He pointed at the ceiling. "That," He spung his finger around. "Was really impressive. I really wanna read how you described it."

"Thank you. It is on Tumblr. My account is @starwriterulia. He he."

Stephanie giggled. "Self-shout out!"

"Shameless plug!" Faith and Stephanie laughed. Barbara, Wonder Woman and Zatanna giggled, and Dick and Tim chuckled.

"Hey, Dad?"

"Yes, Tim?"

"How big is that flower?" Tim pointed with his left hand.

"8.26 m, or 27 ft 11⁄4 in."

Faith said, "I looked up 'world's biggest dump truck' and was given Belaz 75710. That's it's height."

"Mhm." Batman nodded to confirm.

"Holy Gigas Liliaceae, that's a big flower!" Dick exclaimed. Faith laughed, joined by the other Batkids, Jason nodding and chuckling, Damian rolling his eyes but sort of nodding, Batman nodding with a hum in the cursive way a parent would say, 'Yes, what a distinguished specimen!'. Wonder Woman and Zatanna laughed. too.

"I like Stargazer Lilies!" Faith said, during the laughter.

"Well, you may all now return to, uh Earth Prime, is it?" Wysherah looked at Dohannar, who nodded. "Yes, Earth Prime. You are welcome to visit again using the chalk door portal Faith undoubtedly drew in a trusted location, which, I will clarify, may only be used by people who either Faith trusts, or who any of you trust."

"How do we close it?" Asked Barbara.

"You knock eight times on the portal without your hand passing through. You may simply wash away the chalk door with water. Ah, but to enter this place and not only leave the draugr asleep but to walk with the Great Little Starwriter is a blessing."

"We are blessed to have her in the family." Said Batman. Faith blushed and turned her head down, diagonally, as the other Batkids nodded, humming different tones of agreement.

"Thank you." Faith said, meekly. Then, confidently, "Let's go." The group walked back over the bridge. As the group moved to leave the house chambers, Dohannar gently took hold of Faith's right bicep, and gave a mew. Faith instantly looked Dohannar in the eye. "What is it, my quarter?"

"Si'nace ylotut afre naotwa si'blainagsi afnad dafutghoter tot thoe peotplae ylotut waotutlad hoafve warittena ylotutrsielaph tot hoafve siex waitho," Faith's face became bright red, and she hid her face with her left hand connected to her forehead. Tim's jaw dropped as he looked at Batman, who looked at Faith with his head tilted forward and a burning frown, then Tim stared at Faith. "Except phor thoe ylotutnagesit,"

"Mhm." Faith tone was very embarassed.

"Faith, what the hell?!" Said Tim.

"Waotutlad ylotut laike tot sitafyl thoe naighot afnad ma'ke laotve tot mae?"

"What did he say?" Said Dick, a brief pause between his words. The Batkids had paused in the mouth of the previous area, Batman at the doorway, Wonder Woman and Zatanna to the left of Faith. Wysherah and Ashanti sat down on the couch, Ashanti resting her head on her mother's lap, and they watched.

Tim said, "I've got this one, Dad. He said, um," Tim cleared his throat. "'Since you are now siblings and daughter to the people you would have written yourself to have sex with',"

"OH GOD!" Barbara and Dick exclaimed, and turned to face the floor and the wall, Dick pressing himself to the left wall and Barbara to the other.

"Faith!" Barbara scolded.

"Faith, what the heck?!" Dick commented. Jason had furrowed his brow and bowed his head, making a subtle noise of fury. Damian tried to keep walking. Dick grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"Oh. Oh, so Ra's messed with that too, huh?" Said Stephanie. She had not moved, when Tim translated.

"'Except for the youngest'," Tim continued.

Damian said, "Oh, well, thanks for not being a pedophile, but still insinuating that you would participate in incest, or force it upon others."

"It technically wouldn't be, if Ra's hadn't brought her into Bruce's house, and etcetera." Barbara said. Batman hummed, nodding twice.

"Yes," Wonder Woman said. "If he had, say, just brought her home, she could have been intercepted by someone else, such as the League as a whole."

"I'm- still- not go-ing to, by- the way." Faith said, clearly afraid.

"GOOD." Said Dick and Barbara.

"Thanks for adding nothing to your excuse." Said Jason.

"Oh yeah, we get it, Faith, totally." Said Stephanie. "You think you're cool, y-you think you're OK for that."

Tim said, "I hope that half of Tumblr who insta-blocks Batcest blocks you, after you post this." Faith frowned, moving her eyes from Tim to the floor.

Batman sighed, looking from his children to Faith he stood at the doorway, where he had been when Tim started translating. "Is this true? Would, would you have agreed to, or tried to convince all of them but Damian to have sex with you, if things had gone differently?"

"If we got along and there was consent, yes." Faith said. Barbara sighed loudly, into a growl, gripping Dick's right arm and pulling him along and away. Dick gave no resistance. Damian turned and left, fast enough to pass Barbara and Dick. Tim shook his head, and also left.

Jason stared Faith down. She looked scared. He looked pissed, as he should have been. "Get your fucking bag and get out of the Belfry. And then, get out of Gotham. If we see you again, you won't just get an earful, you hear?"

"Ye-s, I h- ear y- ou." Faith stuttered, trying not to be quiet and clearly about to cry, quiet overall out of terror. Jason shook his head and turned, leaving.

Batman stood himself directly in front of Faith. "The rest of what Dohannar asked you, that Tim didn't translate: 'Would you like to stay the night and make love to me?'. Would you have done that?"

"Yes. Because I knew that, as soon as Ra's brought me into your house, I had to control myself. And I was going to. Not just out of circumstance. But because it was right."

"Right for who? Right because of why?"

"Right for everyone. For you and the others, because that's what's morally right and respectful, it's what normal families do. For the Internet, because you know I'm still on Earth-33, and that's why I brought up Tumblr, and etcetera, how Damian reacted. I don't want people to hate me. I want to write stories that people like, not to be a people-pleaser, but to make good stories, and to be a better artist, and know what to-do and not to-do. And for me, so I can be a better person."

"You have a niece, right?"

"You have a niece?" Said Wonder Woman and Zatanna.

"Faith, you have a niece!" Said Wonder Woman. "And is that a younger brother or sister, or an older sibling?"

"Younger brother."

"Oh my God." Wonder Woman turned herself away, pinching her nose with the fingers of her right hand as she held the elbow of that arm with her other hand.

"I only told the story to Stephanie, and Barbara heard 'cause she was outside with dessert, and I assumed she told it to Dick and Tim."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Batman asked. "Were you going to assume the others would share this with Jason, Damian and I, and it would just blow over, and be fine?"

"No, I expected to be confronted about it more than Barbara did."

"What did she tell you?"

"She told me it was in the past, and that my brain remembering it the way it does is my reminder of why it's wrong. And yes, I thought they would have shared the story already, but I would have shared it with you three, too. That's the only story I've been hiding out of shame."

"Did you force your brother to have sex with you?"

"No." Faith said, firmly. "We only took off our clothes. Mom heard us, asked what we were doing, shocked, and I got the most spankings. My nightmares remind me of this. But it's twisted, and I hate that nightmare."

"Your nightmare makes it so that your brother starts it."

Tears began to form in Faith's eyes. "So that he wants it. And he's a teenager instead of ten, and I'm an adult instead of twelve."

"And what is that to your morals? What is that to your desires?"

"It's all wrong, kh," Faith choked on her breath, trying not to cry, but the tears fell anyways. "I'm sorry, it's all wrong, and I wish that I had at least asked my mom about it and she had taken my 3Ds away before I went in his room. I wish I had gotten myself in trouble one minute sooner. It would all be fine. I would have learned without having my subconscious beating my ass because I remember my childhood too much. I'm sorry. I'll leave as you all want because I've betrayed your trust, and I'm genuinely sorry."

Batman was silent for a few seconds. He inhaled and said, "I already made my decision when Dohannar said what he did. Your confession just now has made no difference. But it sure explains why you let Stephanie hit on you, outside of queer reasoning." Faith lowered her eyes.

"Look at me." He said, angrily. Faith lowered her shoulders and looked Batman in the eyes. He noted her trembling lower lip, her firm gaze. "Right now, your body is telling me that you're angry at yourself, and scared of what people think of you. You like attention, we all know that. You tried to get help, but even you know that you have to help yourself, first by admitting your wrong, which, yes, you have done, but second by doing better. But you haven't done that, even when you were offered help in the past, and when you were offered help by the kindest, most forgiving and understanding kids in all of Gotham, and me, Faith."

"You've kicked us all in the shins, 'cause you can't reach our asses, and now you're sitting on the floor because you can't aim worth a damn. You're not a bad person, but you're not a good person, either." Batman turned his head and eyes to Wonder Woman and Zatanna. "Take her wherever, I don't care." He meant that, in the anger of his heart. He looked back at Faith, saw that she had lost all the colour from her face, her lips parted, and she wobbled, leaning forward and to the left. Zatanna and Wonder Woman were frozen, knowing not to attend Faith until Batman was gone.

"Attend to you." Batman mumbled, as he moved his eyes from the heroines to Faith. He raised his voice so that Faith could hear. "You want people to attend to you, like the spoiled little princess you've been since your foster parents first hooked you on sugar and junk food, and didn't give a damn about you afterwards." Faith exhaled, her body leaning forwards more, and her feet stumbled, her legs buckled, her hands found the floor, the end of her right shoulder and the crook of her neck, her head coiled into her body as she vocally trembled and whimpered.

"You can go, you can just go now, yes, please go, please, please go." Faith rapidly sputtered. Batman stepped over her, his cape taking the light of every candle and leaving darkness as he moved through the passageways. "Per- fect." Faith murmured, staring into the black.

Martian Manhunter sighed into Wonder Woman and Zatanna's comms. "Bring her here."

Zatanna hummed, thoughtfully. "I have another idea."

"Me too." Wonder Woman said.

"Very well. I shall trust your judgements. My offer still stands."

"Thank you, J'onn." Wonder Woman said. She put her right arm under Faith's left armpit and lifted her to her feet, straightening Faith's neck so she wouldn't be sore. Zatanna removed Faith's seashell necklace and gave it to Dohannar, who shook his head.

Wysherah said, "Place it in her satchel. Those are her birthrights, regardless of her words and actions. Their effectiveness, however, depends on her faith."

"Thank you." Said Wonder Woman. Dohannar went to sit on the chaise as the women walked Faith through the darkness. She whimpered and panicked as they went, shedding tears.

"Jeff, an', an'... an' Freddy, an'... m-me, Odey-Odeya, aaaa!" She spoke gibberish, escalating into yelps of "No!" and "Aaaa!". Wonder Woman and Zatanna said nothing. They didn't look at Faith. Only forwards.

When they left the Dragon Tomb, the portal was still there. They crossed into the Belfry, and Tim was waiting there. He knocked eight times, and the portal closed. Dick threw a bucket of water on the wall to wash away the chalk. Barbara dumped a different bucket of dirty water onto Faith's head, Zatanna gasping. Faith cringed her face.

"Dishwater. From the pan I cooked that bacon you were so picky about eating. With extra soup, for your disgusting mouth." Barbara hissed. As Faith was walked to the exit, they passed Stephanie, who spat on her face.

'That's not going to be all they're going to do to her, is it?' Zatanna said to Wonder Woman, who shook her head while making eye contact with Zatanna.

Jason handed Faith a horribly damaged 12" white rabbit plush with floppy ears, covered in black chewing tobacco, yellow cat piss stains, and brown shit stains that smelled like dog shit. "Here. Found your Mr. Bunny." He said, using his tone in just the right way that he knew would remind Faith of her mom. And it did, and she didn't let go of the rabbit because of her fear of Jason and her mom.

'Oh, tch, really?' Zatanna thought.

'That affected her, a lot.' Wonder Woman commented.

Dick had come up behind, and he whispered in Faith's right ear, "Oh, and you're blocked from the group chat." Faith curled her bottom lip up and looked at the ceiling, and Dick stopped following, marching back to the computer area, where Barbara, Stephanie, Tim and Jason had quickly gathered.

'Yes, that makes sense.' Wonder Woman thought. She and Zatanna gasped as they stopped in front of Damian.

"Eyes here." Damian said. As Faith looked up from the floor at him, she saw Damian had drawn his sword. She had to tear her eyes away from it to meet his eyes.

"Damian, no." Batman said. "Just use your words."

"Well, I was going to carve a frown on your stupid face. I figured you'd have liked that, psycho. You try to be cool, you try to do something, to be someone, but you're a failure. And that's why you're unhappy, along with all the other trash you've got. I hope your trauma heals as ugly as it has been." Damian sheathed his sword, and stomped towards his siblings as the heroines continued with Faith, eyes on the floor again. Damian jumped into Dick's arms and sat on his lap, panting in anger as he watched Faith with the others near the computer as Dick combed his fingers through Damian's hair untli Damian's breathing slowed.

Batman handed Zatanna Faith's dufflebag as they came to the door. It was already opened. Faith saw Batman's boots and tried to look up, but it hurt. Batman noticed and raised a hand. The heroines stopped.

"I hope you improve, Faith." Batman said. Faith nodded, stiffly. The heroines came outside with Faith. The door slammed shut before Wonder Woman and Zatanna had forced Faith to take her first step after they had already taken theirs. They walked to the sidewalk, and then stopped.

"So." Wonder Woman said, in a mother's voice, keeping Faith afraid, but Faith painfully raising her eyes to look into Wonder Woman's. "Do you want us to leave you at a homeless shelter, or do you want help?"

"H..." Faith was stuck on the sound for three more times. "Help." It was said clear enough, afraid but trying to be light-hearted.

'Bear with me a second, Diana.' Zatanna quickly communicated.

'Of course.'

"From who?" Said Zatanna, in a softer mother's voice, but still in a scolding tone. Faith blinked, moving her eyes away from Zatanna to the street and buildings ahead.

"I... I don't know who would... be willing to take... someone who has always, and keeps betraying people that... she sets out to have the trust of, and... wants to have in her life."

Wonder Woman sighed, Zatanna as well, but quieter. "That's why you're always alone, Faith." Wonder Woman said, Zatanna nodding. Faith nodded too, tiredly. "We know where to take you, if you'll trust us."

Faith lifted her head to look at Wonder Woman and mumbled, "Ow." She smiled, a little, with her cheeks. "I trust you."

"Thank you."

Zatanna asked, "Have you ever been in the air, Faith?"

"Only once. Airplane to Vancouver for a foot specialist, who couldn't do anything."

"Well. Now will be your first with superheroes."

"Are we going across the country?"

"Yes, to Washington."

"Oh, I know who you want me to talk to."

"Are you OK with talking to Ollie and Dinah?"

Faith nodded, then suddenly cried, "Oh Go-hod, it's only 8 A-M!" She whimpered, her whole body shaking. She laughed for a moment, then sobbed, full volume. Zatanna sighed, looking from Faith to Wonder Woman.

"Let's go." Said Wonder Woman. Zatanna nodded. Faith did too, with limited movement. The women lifted themselves with Faith into the air, eastward.

Click emoji to navigate to next chapter. ⏭️

[420thewritersroom]

Wilted Cherry Blossoms, Dark Thunderstorms, Burning Hopes: Remastered

Well howdy do! It's been a minute Mortal Kombat fandom!

*deafening sound of crickets*

I know I know, it's been a long minute since I posted anything Mortal Kombat, even though I made prior promises of a new chapter. Well, there is a new chapter! It's just not this one. I mentioned before how I wanted to revise the prior chapters to clean them up and make them a bit more presentable, so that's what this is. Chapter's 1-4 revitalized! I cut some scripts here and there, cleaned up some prior grammar mistakes, rearranged some texts to help with pacing, and a few minor details added or removed.

And don't worry! There is a Chapter 5 coming out in a few moments too! I just wanted to pump this out too. Think of this as a "previously on..." section where you can conveniently read all prior chapters in one place. I won't delete the old versions of the chapters, I'll actually link them below for those who still want to re-read the old versions of the prior chapters in all their disgusting glory!

I will, however, update the AO3 version of Wilted Cherry Blossoms, Dark Thunderstorms, Burning Hopes. Which means, if you want to re-read the prior chapters BEFORE THEY WERE EDITED, you have to come to this tumblr post. As usual, I'll update the AO3 later, especially since I FINALLY discovered how to add colored text! But it's some HTML jargon and it's definitely not going to be accomplished at this 3 A.M. morning lol

Here are the prior chapters in all their glory:

Storm Before the Calm

Thunderstorms in Spring

A Burning Tree

Deadly Sakura - Part 1 & Part 2

Next

Chapter 1: The Storm Before the Calm

It was over.

It was done.

They stopped Shang Tsung and his nefarious plot; it was over. This was the part where everyone patted each other on the back, did a whole hoopla about "the power of friendship saved the day," locked up the villain, and went home. But that time was lost a long time ago. Ever since…

Ever since Kung Lao died.

When Kung Lao died, it shocked everyone. The only one seemingly keeping themselves together was Kenshi. Coming from his Yakuza background, he had done plenty of dirt that he wasn't proud of. But Johnny? Kenshi still remembers the reviving actor's disbelief, trying his damndest to do all he could for Kung Lao, even pleading with Liu Kang on what to do. But perhaps the one person who was hurt the most that day was Raiden. They were friends, childhood friends…lovers, even…Kenshi can never scrub away the scene of Raiden being the first to notice his friend wasn't getting up and slowly descending to hold his boyfriend tightly. Raiden blocked out the world at that moment; the rest of the crew had to step in and finish the fight while Raiden grieved over his friend.

And things were never the same after that.

It was over.

It was done.

Kenshi and Johnny already shackled the unconscious Shang Tsung and started tending to their wounds. There was silence between them as they repaired themselves, barely glancing at the other. It wasn't until Kenshi spoke up, pointing out that Johnny was wrapping the bandage wrong and took the reigns in patching the Hollywood star up. Johnny didn't put up a fuss. In a small way, he was kinda glad Kenshi said something. To break the silence and bring back that camaraderie they once had before. Feeling Kenshi touch him again, a wave of memories started flooding back to Johnny. The days when the 4 of them were always in each other's spaces. Arms thrown over each other's shoulders whenever they were in a goofy mood. That intimacy, he misses it.

"There," Kenshi softly says, completing the last patch on Johnny to ensure it wouldn't get infected.

Johnny couldn't help but return a sad smile and nod, "Thanks, Kenshi."

Then the silence began anew as they both sat quietly, waiting for Raiden and Liu Kang to return once they finished dealing with, what Johnny called, ‘the super laser beam like in that one Marvel™ movie.’ When they heard the sound of roiling thunder, that was their cue that the other pair had returned. Kenshi was the first to look up, seeing Raiden floating high above them, with black clouds shadowing him. It was a near-terrifying sight. His glowing eyes and hair, the crackles of lightning sparking off him, and the foreign look of godly contempt plastered on his face. It doesn't help that they each learned who Raiden was before Liu Kang altered the timeline. With this display of power, Raiden might as well be a god.

"Hey, Raiden, no need to worry! We had this one in the bag." Johnny gestures over to Shang Tsung, still enjoying his dirt nap. "He'll be going away for good once we figure out what our version of Arkham Asylum should be for the bastard."

Kenshi scoffs and shakes his head slightly, but it wasn't one out of annoyance. He knows what Johnny is trying to do, lightening the mood.

Raiden, however, does not reciprocate, remaining still as a statue in the air. Kenshi stares back at Raiden, anxious about what the thunder go-his friend-was thinking.

"…Hey, Raid-bro, we were told there was a chance of blue sunny skies when coming out here. Care to move the dark clouds out of the way?" Johnny tries again to be jovial, but Kenshi can hear the hint of anxious tension in his tone.

After another long silence, Raiden finally descends, but where he was going was toward Shang Tsung. Johnny and Kenshi rise from their seated area as they closely watch Raiden slowly meeting the ground. By the time Raiden reached the surface, almost as if on cue, Shang Tsung started to stir awake, perhaps thanks to the constant thunder cracking in the area. Shang Tsung was already a beaten mess, with dried blood and dirt caked on his freckled face. His brown eyes met with Raiden's glowing white eyes, and he had the gall to smirk at him. The prisoner readjusts himself, sitting straight up as he leaned against a tree.

"Love what you did with your hair, Raiden."

Of fucking course, Shang had to go there. Kenshi and Johnny did their best to not flinch and cringe upon hearing that, knowing full well that it struck a nerve with Raiden, even if the farm boy wasn't showing it.

As if Shang was further egging Raiden on, he started looking around as if he was expecting someone to be here, but they happened to be missing. "Now, where is that pompous, hat-throwing circus act you often dragged along with you? Called in sick?"

"That's enough, Shang Tsung. Don't let us muffle you too." Johnny was the first to speak on everyone's behalf, his rising anger apparent as he growled.

Shang ignored Johnny, his eyes still trained on Raiden, meeting him eye-to-eye. "Oh~, don't beat yourself up for his departure, Raiden. You can rest easy knowing he died a prideful fool who didn't know when too much was enough."

"Hey, shut the fuck up!"

There was a one-sided back & forth, Shang Tsung constantly taunting the quiet Raiden while Johnny tried to get Shang Tsung to stop talking. Eventually, Johnny starts grabbing the sorcerer by his ruffed-up shirt and tried intimidating him into keeping his mouth shut.

There are benefits to being half-blind and wearing a blindfold. Kenshi has been looking head, seemingly staring into nothing and nowhere, but Sento's sight allowed him to keep his peripherals on Raiden. Watching him closely to ensure that he doesn't do anything stupid. And Kenshi would be right to watch Raiden because the younger man started to approach the arguing pair.

Kenshi steps before Raiden, "Whatever you're thinking, don't."

"Get out of my way, Kenshi," Raiden's voice was like a coming storm, eager to wreak havoc on anyone and anything that stood in its way.

Kenshi had to choose his words wisely; Raiden would erupt if he made one wrong move or phrase. They've seen it happen more than once. "Please, at least let us wait for Liu Kang before-"

"Ha! Still letting that proclaimed Fire God lead you around on a leash, Raiden?"

Kenshi now physically cringes before turning sharply toward Johnny, "Shut him up!" Kenshi can see blue sparks crackling off Raiden, and he further obscures his view of Shang Tsung. "Raiden, he's trying to get into your head. Don't let him!"

"He knew, you know? Liu Kang? For someone who altered the timeline to fit his "perfect vision," many strange coincidences have been happening as of late. I mean, I became a sorcerer when I was supposed to be a beggar," Shang makes sure to enunciate the beggar part with a healthy dose of venom. "And you were a simple farm boy. But look at you now, a master of the storms and the skies," Shang Tsung side-eyes Raiden deviously, "He must've known that Kung Lao was going to die."

"Get out of my way!" the air starts to pick up, his hair and clothes ruffling in the wind, and more lightning static bounces off Raiden. However, the color had drastically changed to an angry red hue.

"Ok, time for your muzzle, dog," Johnny approaches with a mask-like device meant to silence individuals who wear it. As he tries to place the mask on Shang Tsung, the sorcerer hits him square in the dick. A technique he has learned to adopt later down the line thanks to the foolish actor, causing Johnny to have the wind knocked out of him as he backs away a couple steps. "N-not cool, man! Not cool!"

But this landed Shang Tsung a couple more minutes. "He could've prevented it, Raiden. Kung Lao may have died at the General's hands, but who truly caused his demise? Liu Kang could've stopped it all from happening. He went through all the effort to neuter you and me. Because of his biases over a timeline that no longer exists! He claims that he "doesn't interfere with affairs" because he wants us to become masters of our own fates, but we were never in control of it to begin with. Liu Kang decided for himself what we should be; all I did was defy his logic and plan."

"JOHNNY!" Kenshi shouts as he tries to hold Raiden back, the young man now struggling to get past the blind swordsman.

"I'm working on it!" Johnny replies as he hurries back to Shang Tsung with the mask.

"I SAID GET OUT OF MY WAY!!!" Raiden screams.

He can feel it, he can hear it. He can feel the amulet infused into his body, responding to his anger, his grief, his drive for vengeance. The condensed storms locked away in that amulet desire to give Raiden that release. Kenshi grunts as he starts feeling shocks ripple through him while holding tight onto Raiden.

"RAIDEN DON'T LISTEN TO HIM; YOU'RE BETTER THAN THIS!"

"Liu Kang could've saved your friend, Raiden. You know this as much as I do. He has the power to do so; he simply didn't use it. All under the idea of restraint. That's what makes you and I so powerful. We're not afraid to take the power we're given and use it to its nigh limits. The one who you should be angry at is the man who calls himself a friend to you."

Finally, Johnny wraps the mask around Shang Tsung, silencing him until its removal. But the damage was done. It wasn't until now that Johnny noticed that Liu Kang still hadn't arrived.

"Where's Liu? Kenshi, where's Liu!" Johnny says as he anxiously watches the struggle between Raiden and Kenshi.

Kenshi doesn't get a moment to entertain an answer as Raiden yells at the top of his lungs, a burst of electrifying energy emitting from him from the amulet, knocking both Earthrealm warriors back a considerable distance. The pair land roughly on the soil in an audible groan as they jerk and hiss at the shocking ripples still assaulting their bodies. Kenshi was the first to slightly recover, but it must've been some time before he regained his senses because when Kenshi frantically looked for where Raiden had gone, he saw the thunder wielder punching Shang Tsung to a bloody pulp.

"Raiden, ugh! Raiden, stop!" It hurts for Kenshi to get up, but he ushers all the strength he still has and rushes over to Raiden.

Kenshi rips Raiden off of Shang Tsung and doesn't bother to look the sorcerer over (that's what he gets for running his mouth), keeping his attention wholly on his friend and his hand on the hilt of Sento.

"Raiden, we've been over this. Please, don-"

"GET OUT OF MY WAY!!!!"

Kenshi isn't given a moment to calm the man down as red bolts of lightning come arcing towards the swordsman. Kenshi dodges out of the way, unsheathing Sento in the process; the line of shocking energy completely decimates a nearby tree. The time for words was over; now it's time to, in Johnny's words, bring out the "Hulk Buster."

Raiden raises his hand to the grey skies above, capturing red lightning in his hand before hurling lightning bolts at Kenshi. The swordsman goes on the defensive, dodging and ducking behind cover, trying to avoid actively harming Raiden. But the more he placed distance between him and Raiden, the more Kenshi was bobbing and weaving past his thunderous attacks. Each devastating attack from Raiden ridding Kenshi of usable cover. Kenshi would be mildly saved as Johnny surprises Raiden by grabbing him from behind and trying to restrain him.

"Raiden, pull it together, man! We don't want to hurt you!" Johnny struggles to say, the shocks of lightning constantly snapping at him.

Kenshi rushes out of hiding and builds momentum, hoping to get one good, non-lethal strike to knock Raiden out.

"Where the hell are you, Liu Kang..." Kenshi muttered to himself, slightly out of breath as he exerted all his power into running and reaching Raiden as soon as possible. "Johnny! Hold him down, just a bit longer!"

"I'm-ACK, FUCK!" Johnny shouts as he feels another shock of electricity course through him, "I'M FUCKING TRYING!"

Raiden was howling like an animal, trying to shock Johnny off him. Lightning bolts fell out of the sky as they struck the ground around them, destroying everything they touched. It was almost like the lightning strikes were even chasing Kenshi, as every bolt of lightning was always some inches away from hitting the swordsman.

He was close, almost there, just a bit more.

Raiden finally throws Johnny off him, elbowing him sharply in his face. Conjuring every bit of power of the storm, Raiden fried Johnny. The pained screams from the actor nearly shake Kenshi to his core.

"JOHNNY!!" Kenshi screams.

Raiden notices the swordsman approaching and disrupts his abuse of his friend to focus on Kenshi, redirecting the powerful blast and hurling it at the blind swordsman. Guided by Sento, Kenshi locks himself in a blocked battle with Raiden's powerful lightning attack. The mystical powers of Sento were able to withstand the ever-present assault. Still, Raiden was unhinged, not withholding the full potential of the thunder amulet. Then, the impossible happens.

Sento cracks.

Kenshi quickly rolls out of the way and tries to get to safety before Raiden completely breaks Sento. But Raiden saw this coming, using his other hand to conjure a whip-like lightning bolt at Kenshi, lassoing and dragging him to the ground before giving the swordsman a devastating shock.

"Raiden!"

For once, the farm boy actually stops his assault. Leaving Kenshi and Johnny unconscious after constantly being shocked to near death. Raiden looked behind him, and there he was.

Liu Kang.

The Fire God stares at the scene in utter shock, eyes darting between the sizzling Johnny and equally as cooked Kenshi. Raiden, eyes & hair slowly dimming in brightness, keeps his eyes trained on Liu Kang.

'He could've prevented it, Raiden - Liu Kang could've stopped it all from happening - Liu Kang could've saved your friend, Raiden. You know this as much as I do.' Shang Tsung's words echo in Raiden's head.

"...Did you know he was going to die?" Raiden, for the first time, speaks coherently. Possessing the soft voice that he's known for.

"Raiden, what hap-"

"ANSWER THE DAMN QUESTION!" In that same instance, Raiden's voice booms like thunder. Even the skies above respond, crackling thunder in the distance with his anger, his white hair and crimson eyes glowing brightly. "YOU KNEW KUNG LAO WAS GOING TO DIE, DIDN'T YOU!!" Raiden points his electrifying finger at Liu Kang accusingly.

Liu Kang's mouth opens and shuts before he finally answers Raiden. "...Certain circumstances and events that transpired hinted that Kung Lao could die. But not once did I know for certain that Kung Lao would meet his untimely death."

There's a long, silent pause between the two; only the roaring wind breaks the stillness. Liu Kang dares to break his eyes away from Raiden, looking for the one Kenshi and Johnny were supposed to contain, Shang Tsung. It looked like in the scuffle, he used that opportunity to get away, his hairpin lying on the ground dirtied with blood and dirt. Whatever Shang Tsung said to Raiden, it riled the former thunder god. Liu Kang kicks himself for being unconscious for so long. The device he and Raiden went to disable knocked the wind out of him and rendered Liu Kang out of commission for a moment. When he awakened on the vacant platform the device was on, Raiden was gone.

Liu Kang looks back at Raiden, the man's head now facing the ground, fists balled. The next thing that comes out of Raiden's mouth breaks the Fire Gods' heart.

"Why did you let him die," his voice cracks, and Liu can hear the tears Raiden shed.

"Raiden...I..."

"Even if you didn't know fully that Kung Lao would die, why didn't you tell us! Why didn't you save him? Or let us help you save him!" Raiden sobs, his knees feeling weak.

"...I did all I could, Raiden. I tried to protect him...But I couldn't shelter him. I had to trust that Kung Lao would make the choices necessary to follow his own path. I wasn't going to take that choice from him."

"How would he know what path to take if YOU NEVER TELL HIM WHERE IT WILL LEAD HIM!!!" Another sound of roiling thunder and lightning sparks off Raiden as he snaps his head toward Liu Kang. "You could've told him, us, what could've happened! You could've stopped this!"

"I did not want to burden you with the knowledge I knew and felt!" Liu Kang raises his voice. Not to match his anger, but because the winds were picking up and the thunder practically deafened him. "I didn't want you or him to spend every waking moment questioning each move you took, each decision you made! I wanted both of you to become masters of your own fate!"

'He claims that he "doesn't interfere with affairs" because he wants us to become masters of our own fates, but we were never in control of it to begin with. Liu Kang decided for himself what we should be.'

"No...NO!!" Raiden shouts as he slings a lightning bolt at Liu Kang. A shot the Fire God effortlessly dodges.

"Raiden, please!"

"YOU CREATED THIS TIMELINE. THIS NEW UNIVERSE! YOU COULD'VE PREVENTED THIS! YOU HAVE THE POWER TO, I KNOW YOU DO!"

Another reckless throw of a lightning bolt, scorching a nearby tree as Liu Kang steps out of the line of fire. "Raiden, please, you have to understa-"

"I LOVED HIM, LIU KANG! WITH ALL MY HEART, I LOVED HIM!!! AND YOU TOOK HIM FROM ME! YOU DID THIS TO ME!!"

Raiden rips open his shirt, revealing the amulet fused with his person, a permanent reminder of the trauma everyone endured...That he endured...

"BRING HIM BACK! BRING HIM BACK TO ME!" Raiden's feet crackle with electrifying power as he lunges towards him, performing a move Liu Kang knows far too well as Raiden flies at him like a speeding torpedo, locking Liu Kang as they both collide into various trees.

Liu Kang grunts as their movement is halted by a large rock, but he's not given a moment of reprieve as Raiden starts socking him in the face multiple times. Screaming phrases that Liu Kang could not focus enough to bear their meaning. He's then thrown about in a large circle, and when Raiden releases his grip, Liu Kang goes flying again.

Liu Kang crashes into a nearby lake. It takes him some time to gather his strength to swim out of the waters. He coughs and spits out blood. Raiden isn't holding back; the amulet's powers have given him strength and vigor. But he was still mortal. Liu Kang can take a beating, but one wrong move and a bit of force, and Liu could kill Raiden. Liu Kang assesses his surroundings, mainly looking for where Raiden has gone or where Raiden could potentially come from.

Fortunately, Raiden's rageful cries gave him away as he came crashing down like a speeding bullet from the sky toward Liu Kang. Hoping to catch him in a flying kick maneuver. Liu Kang was able to block the attack, and the force of the kick skidded them both further from the lake from which Kang had emerged. There is a back-and-forth between the skilled fighters as each attack is swiftly blocked by the other. Well, more like Liu Kang was the one being swift. Raiden was filled with hatred and rage, his attacks were more akin to a wild animal attacking and defending itself.

Liu Kang had to hold back. Unlike Kenshi, who somewhat matched his power level, one wrong flaming fist and Raiden could be K.O-ed to his grave.

"Raiden, I am not your enemy. Everything I did for Kung Lao, I've always had you in mind! Whatever Shang Tsung told you-"

"Oh yeah, go ahead!" Raiden opened his palms and bent his fingers, colliding his hands on each opposite side of Liu Kang's head, sending shocks of electricity to his head and disorienting the Fire God as his ears started to ring. "Blame it all on Shang Tsung! Blame every single problem and inconvenience on the fucking sorcerer! Because gods forbid you take any responsibility for yourself and own up to the fuck up THAT YOU MADE!"

Raiden grabs Liu Kang in a crushing hug and sends both of them flying in the sky, high enough for Raiden to send a highly concentrated bolt of lighting onto Liu Kang. Raiden is able to withstand such powerful energies. Liu Kang, on the other hand, screams in anguish as he's tased ten times over and then thrown back to the earth below. Liu Kang leaves a crater where he landed and, for a moment, doesn't move from his spot.

It took every fiber of his being and willpower to slowly get himself back on his feet. Liu Kang didn't even have to look to know that Raiden was behind him. Liu Kang tries to plead with Raiden between gasps, coughs, and hacking up blood.

"...Raiden...I don't want to hurt you...I know you're...Grieving. He meant everything to you as you did to him...But Kung Lao wouldn't want us to fight. Not like this..."

There was a long pause, yet again.

"Don't you dare tell me what Kung Lao would've wanted. You don't get to speak for him, or anyone like you, always do!"

"Raiden-"

"You think you know what Kung Lao would've wanted when you knew nothing about him. Not like I did. Do you want to know what Kung Lao would've wanted? Do you want to hear it from someone WHO ACTUALLY FUCKING KNOWS HIM!?! Let me tell you!"

Raiden forcefully turns Liu Kang to face him before clocking him in the face.

"Kung Lao would've wanted to know how he was going to die so that he could prevent it!"

Another crack.

"He would've thanked you for trusting him with this knowledge so he could return home with me in peace!"

Another crack, blood staining his knuckles.

"HE WOULD'VE WANTED TO LIVE WITH ME. SPEND THE REST OF HIS LIFE WITH ME! HIS FUCKING BOYFRIEND!"

Another crack after Liu Kang weakly tries to block his other fist attack.

"HE WOULD'VE WANTED TO DIE PEACEFULLY. WITH ME BY HIS SIDE! NOT IN A FUCKING REALM THAT HE DOESN'T BELONG TO, FACING DOWN A HORNED-FACED FUCKER AND THAT DAMNABLE SORCERER! TO ONLY DIE BECAUSE THEY USED HIS WEAPON AGAINST HIM! LEAVING HIM TO BLEED ON THE DIRT!"

Another crack, an uppercut that sends Liu Kang stumbling back some feet.

Liu Kang spits out another glob of blood mixed with saliva. "We all can't choose how we die, Raiden."

"Yet, you chose for him to die there."

Something within Liu Kang snaps, anger boiling. "Kung Lao chose not to listen to me when I asked him not to interfere, Raiden!" Liu Kang tries to hold back the poison he truly wanted to emit.

One too many times has he heard this. How Liu Kang was the reason Tarkat exists. How it's his fault that Kitana and Mileena's mother was dead. How it was his fault that Shang Tsung and Quan Chi were in deplorable working and living conditions. How it's his fault that Reptile and Smoke lost their loved ones. How it's his fault that events and circumstances that did not go in their favor, even if it was out of everyone's hands, it was always HIS FAULT.

He was tired of it. Tired of explaining his reason for not keeping the position as the Keeper of Time. Tired of defending himself against the actions and motives that others have. Tired of expressing how, while he may have remade this timeline and altered events, he never once had it planned to control the lives of mortals, leaving their motives and fates in their own hands and suffering the consequences of doing so.

Red and blue flames start to erupt from his arms where his draconic tattoos were printed, his eyes giving off a godly glow.

"I already told you why I withheld that information from him. I wanted him to have peace. Both of you, to have peace." Liu Kang tried his best to keep his calm attitude as he picked himself up.

"And how do you know he wouldn't be at peace if he at least knew what was coming!?!" Raiden spits back at him

"How would you?"

Even with his soothing voice, he definitely struck a chord with Raiden as he went for a swing at Liu Kang. This time, Liu Kang grabs his fist and twists it, not enough to break the bone, but to cause painful strain.

Raiden shouted in mild pain as he tried to swing his other free hand at Liu Kang. Similarly, Liu blocks the attack, grabbing his wrist and unintentionally burning him slightly.

"Raiden, I'm not going to say this again. Stop this." Liu Kang looks Raiden dead in the eyes. Despite his calm face, there was a silent roaring flame behind his features. The kind of look that screams, 'I don't want to hurt you, but I will if you give me a reason to.'

Yet, Raiden did not listen. He headbutts Liu Kang successfully, forcing Liu Kang back. That was the straw that broke the camel's back. In a fit of rage, Liu Kang yells as he punches Raiden square in the face. He didn't use his full godly strength, but it sent Raiden flying through multiple trees before slamming against one tree trunk. Liu Kang huffs and puffs, the anger slowly dying and the realization of what he did quickly coming to him.

"Raiden!" Liu cries as he rushes to the former thunder god as fast as he can.

When he found his body, Liu Kang feared the worst. It happened, as the old Raiden said. They were always destined to fight, to kill each other, and Liu Kang couldn't avoid it in this timeline. But the moment he heard Raiden's labored breaths, Liu Kang felt an overwhelming relief wash over him.

"Raiden! Raiden, I'm so sorry! I didn't- I didn't mean to," Liu Kang was stumbling over his words as he held Raiden upright, unsure of how serious his wounds were.

Raiden was going through the shock of it, breathing not only labored but in quick succession. Liu Kang tried to help Raiden match his breathing to calm him down from the pain and shock.

"Are you," Raiden swallows between shaking breaths and stuttering speech, "Are you going to let me die? Like you did Lao?"

Liu Kang meets Raiden eye to eye. Raiden was bleeding from his head, streams of red running down his face with twigs and sticks entangled in his white hair. He's never going to let this go. Whatever Shang Tsung told him, it infected him like a parasite. As long as Raiden lived and breathed, Kung Lao's death will always be Liu's fault.

...Unless...

Liu Kang huffs; he never thought he would have to do this again, not since Shujinko. Liu Kang positions Raiden as comfortably as possible, as one would be leaning against a tree with multiple broken bones and aching muscles.

"No, I want to grant you peace. I know that you don't want to hear this...But Kung Lao would've wanted you to find peace with his departure."

Liu Kang starts building up flames that run up his arms, performing the many monastic dances he learned from the previous timeline and the current. As the fire roared, they soon floated to Raiden and encompassed him. They never burned him. Raiden tries to crawl away from the dancing flames, believing them to char him to a crisp.

"Kung Lao would've wanted you to look fondly on your friendship and love, and seek to replicate that love with others. He would've wanted you to live happily, even if he wasn't there to provide you that happiness."

"L-Liu Kang, what are you-wait...No!" Raiden's eyes start to water as he can feel his memories slipping. Not just the ones with Kung Lao but everything after Liu Kang found him. His previous adventures in Outworld, in the Netherealm, Chaosrealm, his ventures with his closest friends...The first time Kung Lao told him the three words, "I love you." Everything. "Liu Kang, no! Don't, please don't!"

Liu Kang, almost coldly, ignores Raiden's pleas as he takes it all away. Reverting Raiden back to the simple farm boy from Fengjian who simply wanted to protect and guide his village.

"...You are right, Raiden," Liu Kang says between paused breaths, trying to hold back tears as he committed the deed. "It is my fault. I shouldn't have thought I could groom you or Kung Lao to become protectors of Earthrealm like you were before. I shouldn't have taken you away from your family, your friends, and your home in hopes of raising you to become grand warriors. I have placed your loved ones and you in so much danger...All because I clung onto a life that no longer exists...I'm sorry."

Raiden passes out from his injuries as Liu Kang finished the last of the memory wipe. Liu Kang stares at Raiden's slumbering body, and he can't help but scream and cry. Finally, allowing himself to grieve ever since that fateful day.

-

Fuji finished the last of the clothes, just in time for dinner. She was having a hot pot tonight. Filled with various greens, potatoes, sweet potatoes, corn, radishes, and mushrooms. All placed into a chicken broth seasoned further with a tomato and pork bone soup base. Fuji sits at the table with a bowl full of soup; she does her best not to look across the table. Where her brother Raiden would be...

Raiden told her long ago that he was placed in a very important position and hard at work with Mr. Kang. He brings back money and unique souvenirs with questionable origins. He always makes sure to visit her occasionally when he comes back to Fengjian.

But this was one of the many occasions where the house felt too big, even with their elderly mother and father sleeping in the other room. She missed having her older brother around for the longest time; he was her only friend. Her closest friend. Sure, they were siblings, and they had their "sibling moments," but with him gone, she never felt more alone. But her being alone wasn't Fuji's main problem; it was Raiden's sudden silence.

Ever since Kung Lao's passing, Raiden hasn't been returning her calls, answering her letters, or even visiting the family. Doesn't help, too, that none of his friends live in Fengjian, and aside from Kung Lao and Johnny's number (she's never calling that man), she can't even reach them to know what's up with her brother. It's gotten to the point where she has saved up some money to take a week's vacation to the U.S., where her brother is currently working.

Before Fuji knew it, she was already done with her bowl (2 bowls, actually). She saved the leftovers for her parents when they awaken. While washing up the dishes, she heard a knock at the door. Hmm? Who could be visiting her at this hour?

…Could it be!

"Give me a moment!" Fuji says hurriedly as she dries her hands, making her way to the front door. A tiny bit of hope fills the young woman. Could this be Raiden? After so long!

She swings open the door, hope and glee plastered on her face, but it quickly turns to confusion and worry. "…Liu Kang…Raiden!?!"

Outside was Liu Kang carrying a bandaged and mostly healed Raiden. "I'm sorry to come at such a late hour, Fuji. May I come in."

"What happened to my brother!?! Did someone mug him? Was he attacked?" Fuji ushers Liu Kang to enter the home and shows him to Raiden's old room, still possessing his old belongings even before he left.

Despite her questions, Liu Kang did not answer her. She asks again and again about her brother's condition, who did this to him, and why, but she is met with silence. She watches Liu Kang gently place Raiden on his old bed, and just as quickly as he came, Liu proceeded to walk back outside.

"W-wait! Liu Kang, please tell me what happened! Who hurt my brother! Why did this happen-" Fuji tried to stop Liu Kang by grabbing at his wrist, but she saw something that shocked him.

Liu Kang's eyes were red as if he had been crying not too long ago.

"…What happened…"

There's a long pause between them. All that Liu Kang does is slightly tilt his head toward her, his white eyes meeting hers, before saying, "I'm sorry, Fuji. Your brother has been relieved from his service…And this will be the last time we will see each other."

And just like that, Liu Kang left. Fuji watched Liu Kang leave, fading away on the horizon with more questions than answers.

"Ugh…My head."

Fuji nearly scares herself when she hears Raiden moving about in the other room. She rushes back to him and helps support her brother when she sees he is still unsteady.

"Raiden! Liu Kang, your boss from the States, dropped you off, and you're bandaged and unconscious, and Liu wouldn't tell me why you were like this and-"

"whoa, whoa, Fuji, slow down! Start over; who's Liu Kang again?"

Fuji pauses. "…Liu Kang…Your boss…"

"Fuji, I have no idea who that man is," Raiden hisses in pain as his muscles ache again. It's only now that he realizes that he was bandaged. "Did he do this?"

"I-I don't know. I thought…I thought you would tell me…"

"Well, I don't know who I angered to get this treatment, but if this Liu Kang fellow helped me back home, I'm surely appreciative. I need to lay back down. Can you get me a hot towel, please?"

Fuji helped her brother back to bed and gave him his requested towel, but she found herself staying in his room for the entire night as if she were a child again. She couldn't sleep as she was plagued with questions about what happened to Raiden. Better yet, the line of work that he was in that he got this terrible treatment. And unfortunately, she might never get those answers again. Raiden doesn't remember anything in the past couple of years, even seemingly forgotten about Kung Lao's death and funeral. His memories were missing, and he couldn't give a reliable answer to what happened in his life past the day that he went into Madam Bo's restaurant after a bet with Kung Lao.

Even worse, she can't ask Liu Kang. Because just as he promised and foretold, they never saw Liu Kang again.

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

Chapter 2: Thunderstorms in Spring

~The Netherrealms - Undisclosed time and place~

Sulfur, ash, smoke, burning stone, and landscapes; the smell of the Netherrealm. Although Raiden's memories are fuzzy at best and nonexistent at worst, he remembers this in near clarity. His vision presents him looking up at the hellish sky as if he's lying down on the ground. He remembers not moving; it's too painful to move. He remembers breathing heavily. Is it because of the suffocating air of the Netherrealms? Or perhaps because of the blinding pain that Raiden remembers experiencing.

He can remember not just hissing and groaning in pain but screaming and writhing-silently begging for it to end. In this mnemonic dream, everything was selective regarding what he saw, heard, smelled, and tasted. For taste, he can taste the iron of his own blood mixed in with something foul. Could it be the rancid air or the fact that this mixture almost tasted acidic?

His hearing in this dream is quite literally selective. Some people sounded horribly muffled, requiring Raiden to strain his ears to hear them. Others, he could perceive with great clarity, and then there were those he could not hear at all, their lips moving with no audible sound. Then there was his sight. Like the other senses, Raiden was faced with blurred faces, some only possessing one discernable feature, such as their eyes, nose, mouths, ears, hair, etc. Others were utterly faceless to Raiden, with only their speech or smell being the one thing Raiden could cling to.

But what often overrode all these senses was the overwhelming pain he felt at this moment. Three figures stood above him. One was featureless; the only distinguishing aspect of this entity was that they were female-presenting as their speech sounded feminine, but it was horribly dimmed. Another figure was only distinguishable thanks to the glowing eyes they possessed and distinct dragon tattoos that crawled up their arms. If Raiden concentrates, he can maybe recollect what this individual is saying, but this pain prevents him from doing so.

Then there was Kung Lao. His long-time best friend, Kung Lao. Out of all the figures in front of Raiden in this instance, Kung Lao-he could see and hear with such perspicuity. Kung Lao stood beside the lying Raiden, tears in his eyes, slurring his speech, holding tightly to the thunder wielders' shaking hand.

"It's ok, Raiden! It's ok, you're going to be ok!" Kung Lao sobbed, trying, but failing, to smile at Raiden despite his tears actively gracing Raiden's face.

Raiden doesn't remember if he said anything back to him. His sight throughout this scene remained on his friend…At least, he thinks they're friends. A foreign feeling encompasses him whenever he looks at Lao, and it's an overwhelming sense of love. People can definitely love their best friends. He and Kung Lao had known each other since they were children. Lao was a reckless, poor kid, and Raiden was a boy from a well-off family. Despite their class differences, they saw something likable about the other. But this love was more than just having a natural affinity for someone he's known all his life.

This felt…Stronger? Louder? Raiden doesn't know how to describe it. If it wasn't for the pain, Raiden would get lost in Kung Lao's chocolate eyes. He would untie his short ponytail and play with his hair before readjusting his look. Raiden notices little details about his friend that others might not have picked up on. Like his dimples when he smiles, even under such stressful circumstances, the way his face piercings adds to his cocky personality, and his undercut brings back fond memories of the pair trying to learn how to cut his hair which ended disastrously. Raiden wanted…To kiss him dearly…

And just like how Raiden held his perspective on Lao, Kung Lao hasn't torn away his gaze on Raiden, spitting out promises of what they will do together once Raiden was right as rain in rapid fire. What ended up redirecting Kung Lao's attention was when the figure with the glowing eyes mumbled something.

"What?" Kung Lao snaps his head over to the tattooed figure with hopeful confusion on his face.

Raiden could not understand this tattooed individual fully. However, he was able to catch on to some words: Amulet, Raiden, Entity, and Consequences. The fully faceless being, who was also present, gestures as if they're conversing with the pair - but Raiden cannot hear their input on the matter.

"I don't care how you do it! I…I just want him to survive! Please, Liu! Save him! Save Raiden!" Kung Lao cries, holding onto Raiden's hand like his life depended on it. As if, if he didn't clutch onto Raiden, he would lose him forever.

The tattooed individual holds their gaze toward Kung Lao, their silence and body language hinting that they were…Uneased and uncertain. The tattooed looks at the feminine figure and nods, saying something in the mumbled jargon they spoke. But the three individuals in front of Raiden were all in agreement. They were going to save him. He was going to survive this…Somehow.

Kung Lao focuses back on Raiden, smiling at his downed friend. "Look at me. Look at me, Raiden. You're going to be alright! Liu is gonna help ya. You…" Kung Lao looks Raiden over, primarily where his stomach is. Why was he looking there? "You're going to be alright. I love you. I love you so much, and I'm not going to let you die, ok?"

Raiden feels his heart flutter as if Kung Lao said something that would've usually made the thunder wielder swoon. But what was it?Despite being able to understand everything Kung Lao was telling him, his dream censored him; twice it did. Raiden feels something swell within him, this desire to respond to Kung Lao. Words at the tip of his tongue that he wanted to get out.

But then the pain gets worse. A LOT worse. His body was on fire. As if electricity was coursing through his body. Raiden screams, making sounds one would not think a human could make. He writhes, so much so that he feels someone holding him down. He remembers wanting it to stop, that dying was a better alternative than enduring this much pain.

-

Raiden jolts awake, sitting upright, sweaty, and breathing heavily. His eyes roam about his room, taking stock of what's around him. It was just a dream. He's in his room, in his bed. Not in…That hellish place…Whatever that was. Yet, he's not calming down. It felt real, too real. The pain, the heat, the people talking to him. It was as if he experienced it before, and a part of himself felt like it was factual. But it was so…Surreal…

"Ugh! Aaah!" Raiden clutches his stomach, where his lower and upper body meet. It's happening again.

He can feel static dancing off his person in painful waves, coursing through his body from his stomach. He doubles over as he clutches his stomach in a hugging position. He can feel it wanting to get out again, this strange, unknown power, as it swells in electric prowess, begging to be let out.

"Raiden? Raiden!" Fuji's voice sounds distant, yet tangible, as she rushes to her brother's side. "Raiden, what's wrong? Is it happening aga-ah!" Fuji feels a jolt of electricity shock her, and she pulls away from touching her brother.

Raiden hisses through the growing pain, "Y-yes, it's happening again! It's stronger this time!"

"Come on, let's get you outside!" Fuji says hurriedly as she quickly dresses herself in whatever she can get her hands on in her brother's room.

Raiden groans as he tries to remove himself from his bed, something he doesn't want to do right now, but ends up rolling off the mattress onto the floor with an audible grunt. Fuji is quick to Raiden's side again and helps him up with all her strength. Despite having a sleeper build in terms of muscularity and being leanly built, he was heavy to carry and drag around for someone of her strength and stature.

"Come on, come on, let's go, Raiden! We're almost to the door; let's go!" Fuji tries to encourage her brother.

"I-I'm trying, Ji. It hurts!" Raiden whines.

They both get past the front door and rush to hop onto Fuji's motorbike. She revs the engine and speeds away down the road, biking to a remote area, so her brother can let out…Whatever the fuck is going on with him.

"We're almost out of here, Raiden! Just give me-HOLY SHIT!"

Suddenly, an arc of lightning strikes the ground, deadly close to them. It's only now that Fuji notices that the night clouds above crackled with thunder and lightning.

"Raiden, control yourself! Just give me 2 minutes! AAH!" Fuji dodges a lightning strike that landed 3 seconds ahead of them.

"I'M TRYING!" Raiden shouts in pain, his hair and eyes glowing intensely as the amulet's power strengthens.

Throughout the trip, Raiden KNOWS that he was unintentionally shocking his sister, the poor farm boy constantly apologizing as he tries to reign in the energies coming off him.

Fuji is able to bob & weave around the constant lightning strikes and endure the shocks her brother kept giving her, just enough to reach not just the outskirts of the village but into the remote parts outside their settlement. Once they were a good 30 minutes away from Fengjian, Fuji slowed down to park her bike, but this would nearly cost her. As they were about to stop, another lightning strike hits them from behind, kicking up dirt, debris, and their bike. The motorbike ends up being tipped forward forcefully, sending the siblings flying.

Fuji screams as she soars above the ground before crashlanding into the tall grass nearby. Although she didn't gain that much air, thanks to her slowing down not too long ago, she still felt her ears ringing and her head and muscles aching. She makes sharp gasps as she slightly rolls in pain.

"Damnit, Raiden," Fuji hisses. "Fuck, Raiden! Raiden?" Fuji picks herself up, almost losing her footing, as she frantically looks for her older brother.

The sounds of her brother screaming gave her an idea of where he was at. Fuji could see lighting bouncing off his person as he was in the fetal position. As Fuji was attempting to approach him, Raiden yelled out to her, "DON'T COME ANY CLOSER!"

Fuji immediately stops in her tracks, watching her brother uselessly as he suffers. Ever since he came back home a year and a half ago, ever since Liu Kang dropped her brother off at their family home, he's had these strange abilities. But nothing like this. It has never gotten this bad! It's gotten out of control. Whatever's happening to Raiden, it's trying to get out. Fuji anxiously scours through her brain as she considers WHAT she can do to help her brother that she hasn't done before. But…BUT WHAT THE FUCK WOULD ANYONE DO IN THIS SITUATION!?! Her brother is becoming a malfunctioning transmission tower! No amount of guidance from their parents, friends, workmates, or even TikTok inspiration posts could prepare her to handle this!

There is one thing she notices about her brother in this situation. It's almost as if he's trying to hold back whatever this electrifying beast is. This gives her an idea.

"R-Raiden! Raiden, you need to let go! You can't keep holding back…Whatever this is!" Fuji shouts as loud as she can, the raging thunder clouds, cracks of lightning, and howling wind overpowering her voice.

"NO!" Raiden screams in response, fear heavily apparent in his tone. "I-FUCK-I'LL HURT YOU! LIKE LAST TIME, I'LL HURT YOU!"

Oh…

Fuji stares at Raiden as that incident plays in her head again.

It was a couple months since Liu Kang returned her brother home. Raiden was…He was going through alot. What with his sudden memory loss and having to come to terms with the lost memories, Raiden was silently coping with this alone. It's unnatural for him to bottle up his emotions. Fuji has always known her brother to speak his mind when something troubled him…Then again, his trusted confidant when he didn't want to turn to his family was Kung Lao…Who's dead…Even Madam Bo Raiden couldn't look to for guidance and comfort; she died many years ago. Peacefully, surrounded by her family. Despite their natural trust for each other as siblings, Raiden clearly avoided speaking with her about what he was thinking and feeling.

And it finally came overhead when the siblings had a mild dispute. She doesn't even remember what they were arguing about. Could've been typical brother/sister shit. Maybe she finally confronted him about his silence and reluctance to speak about what had happened to him. Regardless, things got a bit personal, and Raiden, who is usually the patient and calm one, even during their little disagreement bouts, lashed out.

And quite literally, he lashed out. Fuji probably should've seen the telltale signs when his eyes and hair gave a dim, white glow, but she was too riled up in the conversation to pay attention. Then it happened. Raiden yelled back at her, and suddenly, an arc of lightning erupted from him. Striking Fuji.

With a highly concentrated energy of electricity, it shocked her to the point that her body shut down temporarily…But Raiden didn't see it like that at the moment. His sister, his closest friend aside from Kung Lao, was lying on the kitchen floor, dead. Their elderly parents arrived home to see Raiden sobbing loudly as he tried to revive his sister while lightning was pulsing off him. They couldn't get close enough to reach the phone to call for emergency services as arcs of lightning were going everywhere in the house, practically destroying it. And maybe the constant shock of electricity restarted Fuji and kept her from fully kneeling over. Who knows, there was a lot of pandemonium going on at that moment. Still, she remembered jolting back to life, breathing heavily as she tried to scoot away from her brother.

But there was one thing she regretted that day. She was so scared of Raiden that she had the look of someone seeing a monster, a threat.

Fuji can ascertain that he's been holding it in ever since that day. Because he's scared of hurting her again. And sure, they would both go out of town to a remote area to let Raiden air out and release the energies of the amulet infused to his body. But there was a deafening disconnect since that day. And it pains Fuji that it wasn't until now that she realized she'd shut Raiden out because she was scared of her brother.

Another painful cry emits from Raiden. The storms above were becoming dangerous; Fuji felt like the roaring winds would sweep her off her feet. Although Fuji was scared of her brother's mystical prowess, she loved him more than she feared him.

"Raiden, you're not going to hurt me! I know you won't; I trust that you won't!" Fuji has to now scream over the raging storm as she puts some further distance between her and her brother, readjusting her fallen motorbike. "Whatever you're holding on to, you must let it go!"

"Fuji, I-"

"Raiden, don't you fucking argue with me!" Fuji shouts, using her "mom voice." Fuji might be just as soft-spoken as her brother, but she knew when to assert herself and take up space when needed. "You're going to harm me far worse the longer you keep holding on to...Well, that! You'll destroy all of Fengjian doing what you're doing RIGHT NOW!"

Fuji can't say for sure that it will. But storms like this can definitely level villages, and she's not about to wait and find out if this is the case. Fuji yelps loudly as a soaring large tree branch flies by her, the dark-haired sister ducking behind her bike for safety. There's another resounding scream from Raiden, and she looks in his direction with extreme worry. However, there was something different about this scene.

Raiden was howling, sure, but he was releasing the energies of the amulet. The storm around this time worsens so much that Fuji holds onto her, albeit skidding, bike while screaming herself.

Then it...Stops...The roiling thunder, the crack of lightning, the raging winds calmed. Fuji opens her eyes and looks to the still-night sky, the dark clouds slowly parting to reveal the gibbous moon above, the sound of thunder now becoming an infrequent presence. When she finally takes a look at her brother...She might as well be looking at an all-powerful being, maybe even a god.

Raiden was levitating, hair and clothes flowing as if he were in water, sparks of electricity visibly coursing through his being as his hair and eyes glowed a godly white. Fuji stared in awe as electric energies sparked off him, unsure of how else to take in this scene in front of her. Her brother would soon gracefully touch the ground again before kneeling over. Fuji cautiously approaches her brother as if entering an emperor's throne room unannounced.

"...Raiden?"

"...Yeah?" Now sounding like his usual, soft-spoken self, Raiden looks up at his sister. His face plastered with the same amazement as she possessed.

"Are you...Ok?"

"I think so," Raiden looks himself over, watching the energies pulse around him. "...Yeah. Yeah, I think I'm alright now."

"What was that? This never happened before." Fuji starts getting more bold as she approaches her brother. She wanted to dust him down but hesitated as the energies continued encompassing Raiden.

Raiden is quiet for a moment. During this silence, the electrical current finally dissipated. "...I'm sorry, Fuji."

"For what?"

"For...For everything."

Fuji's heart nearly breaks the moment she hears Raiden's voice crack. Raiden's eyes become glassy as he begins to cry. "No. No, Raiden," Fuji takes the first step to break the space between them, holding his shaking hand in hers. "I should be the one apologizing. I...I won't pretend I know what happened to you that caused all this. These strange powers, you're new color," Fuji brushes some stray hair behind Raiden's ear, "Or why you can't remember the past...I don't even know how many years."

"But you clearly needed help. I can't assist with any physical help, but I can help with this," Fuji pokes at his heart, smiling at her elder brother. "I was scared of you, Raiden...Because you became...Unrecognizable to me. But I was wrong to emotionally shut you out. You're still my brother, and I'm going to still be your sister."

Raiden chuckles, smiling through his tears as he fondly looks at Fuji. "Thank you, sis."

"Now come on, we best get home. Mom and Dad, if they're not awake already, will be worried about why we were gone during an active storm. Also, you're still in your underwear."

"What?" Raiden looks at himself, finally realizing that he's still in a t-shirt and boxers. "W-why didn't you help me get dressed!?!"

"You were literally screaming and shooting lightning out of your hands; what did you want me to do?" Fuji responds as she gets her motorbike prepped for departure.

"I would've been fine with a hoodie or something," Raiden says, now in a bit of a jesting mood. He does notice that his sister is wearing his clothes and points at her. "Can you at least hand me my hoodie?"

"Can't. Not wearing anything under this."

"I can literally see your PJs under there, Ji."

"Ok, but it's cold. No thanks to you," Fuji sticks her tongue at him teasingly.

The pair continue their sibling banter as they return to Fengjian. The back & forth is interrupted as Raiden grows silent suddenly. Growing increasingly uncomfortable with the silence, Fuji breaks the ice.

"Something on your mind?"

Raiden remains still.

"...Come on, Raiden. If something is troubling you...Listen, I might not have all the answers, but at least let me know what's going on."

-

~Two Days Later~

Raiden closes the mirrored medicine cabinet, the soft click of the small door indicating it was successfully shut. Raiden is faced with his reflection. White, shoulder-length hair, brown eyes (that occasionally turn blue-white, he has noticed), upside-down heart-shaped face, chubby cheeks, oval brows; these features he has seen time and time again. Yet, this look still feels...Foreign to him. How did he get the white hair? Nothing in his memories can track down the point in time when he dyed his hair. Fuji claims that he dyed his hair some time ago...

He looked...Older. As if he's experienced many things in his life. What those experiences are, though, he couldn't tell you. Raiden places a hairband in his mouth as he gathers his strands to recreate the man-bun he fondly prefers to wear. It's the one thing that gives him a sense of familiarity. He can remember precisely how he favors pinning up his hair. Raiden looks at himself in the mirror again, staring into his reflections' brown eyes as if searching for something behind them. His gaze then focuses on a small picture. The photo was taken when he, Kung Lao, and Fuji went on a school trip in elementary school. Their class went fishing that day, and he can distinctly remember his kid self getting frustrated because he couldn't catch a single fish that day. Despite living in a village that was on the water, fishing wasn't a skill Raiden acquired. He remembers Kung Lao always being able to catch a large or small one, bragging about how he was going to take his catches back home to eat.

Perhaps it was Kung Lao's bragging that made his younger self jealous and throw a fit. But in that same instance, Kung Lao taught him the tricks he used to capture fish. It was Kung Lao that turned that sour trip into a journey he will never forget.

...

Why can't he remember anything? Past that day, when the pair competed to see who could harvest the most cabbages and pay for the loser's meal at Madam Bo's, everything else was a blur. And maybe this wouldn't bother him much; people can have fuzzy memories, especially if they were beaten so severely they had to be bandaged with extreme care by a stranger. But it's not just a few memories that he can't recollect; it's practically all of them past that day at Madam Bo's. Even more alarming...

...He had forgotten that his best friend, Kung Lao, had died. Now, unless he's getting a grave case of early dementia, who would miss that their own best friend died, their own funeral procession? When his sister and parents came forward about this with him, it was only then that Raiden realized that some years passed as well. That meant that he was missing years-YEARS-of life experiences that were now gone from his mind. Even more confusing, he wasn't in a coma. At least, he doesn't think he was.

Based on what Fuji and his parents told him, some man named Liu Kang offered him a position of high-paying work. It required him to work in the United States, and both he and Kung Lao were offered the job; both men said yes to this opportunity. Looking back at it, in his family's words, they should've pushed back further as they were suspicious of this Liu Kang fellow and this job he was offering their son. But seeing the joy on Raiden's face and his determination to leave with Liu Kang convinced them that their son could handle themselves and pave his own future.

Occasionally, he would visit home and send money & unique souvenirs before returning to the States. Apparently, he was a martial arts teacher in the States, but everything else was unknown to them. It was a shock to everyone when they heard that Kung Lao died. It came out of left field. Based on what Liu Kang and Raiden told them, an accident happened where some equipment malfunctioned and blew up in Kung Lao's face, a lacerated throat being the primary cause of death. After that, Raiden was radio silent to his family. It wasn't until Liu Kang came to their house in the dead of night years later with Raiden in tow, bandaged and bruised, and left without another word. They haven't seen Liu Kang since.

Aside from the mild inconsistencies (if he was in the States while his family was in China, of course, there would be some muddled details), their story was pretty straightforward based on their point of view...Yet, deep down, Raiden couldn't help but...Feel like there's more to this story. Not that he's distrustful of his family; he truly believes what they say. However, deep within his conscience, it felt like the story they told him was the tale he WANTED them to believe. It was as if Raiden knew the truth that explained the holes and contradictions that riddled their recollection of previous events. Yet, the answers to these truths are hidden even from Raiden. Always at the tip of his tongue but forbidden from ever speaking them.

Raiden enters the kitchen; his mother and sister prepare breakfast and lunch for Raiden. Seeing him enter, Fuji smiles from ear to ear. "You slept in, lazy butt."

"Oh?" Raiden looks at the mounted clock, and yep! He's an hour and thirty minutes late to work. "Aw, crap!"

"Calm yourself, boy. I already called the Farm. They were understanding and said to come in when you're ready." His mother says as she sets down a bowl full of steamed Bao Buns. Enough to last until lunch, really.

Looking at the bowl, Raiden knew why they cooked so much. Kung Lao, the gluttonous butt he was, would always visit Raiden so that they could travel to work together. And without fail, he was always raiding their kitchen for any leftovers no one else wanted. It became nearly tradition to cook a bit extra in case Kung Lao decided to pay them a visit.

...Apparently, old habits die hard...Raiden smiles and kisses his mother gingerly on the cheek. "Thank you, mother. I don't want to keep them longer, though. I'll see you guys when I get back." Raiden quickly packs his own lunch, thanks to the assistance of his sister, Fuji, who was already 3 steps ahead of him and grabs a couple Bao Buns before heading out of the house.

Walking to the Farm, Raiden couldn't help but feel a sorrowful, almost lonely, acceptance of the village around him. Every building, path, small body of water, old face, new face, everything about Fengjian felt like a ghost to him. It was familiar, yet so dissimilar to Raiden. This village has grown in the past years he was in and out of this settlement. But what disheartens him is the absence of his friend. Raiden only wishes that Kung Lao was here; perhaps he would've helped him make sense of all of this. This...Amnesia mess that he's in. And Raiden would've confided with Madam Bo...You know, if she were still alive. Her death had more consistency; she simply died of old age. It was still a shock; she was his adopted grandmother in Raiden's eyes. So, in Raiden's mind, he lost not only a close friend but also a family member and valuable mentor.

Raiden found himself staring at points of interest that held significance to him, especially if it related to Kung Lao. There was a cherry blossom tree up a hill nearby that he and Lao would frequent without fail. Be it to do school work, to see who can climb that tree the fastest and highest, or to chill. It was there that Kung Lao, at the age of 15, expressed his desire to explore their horizons past Fengjian. Raiden still grins to himself, thinking back on the many adventurers Kung Lao wanted to have. Although a few of them were a bit exaggerated. They both promised that they would travel outside of Fengjian once they were older and experience the world together. Somewhere, deep down, Raiden feels like this has come true if they have gone to the States before...But it feels like there was more to it than simply hopping over to another country.

There's a convenience store nearby where Kung Lao's house was. It was a favorite, and every time the pair visited it, Kung Lao would rant and rave about all the many meals one could make from just a few store-bought convenience items. Being a child of a middle-class family, Raiden was always baffled by the "dishes" Kung Lao would make, most of them hit or miss due to the cheap ingredients. But Kung Lao loved to cook. He probably would've wanted to become a chef with the kind of passion he had. But Kung Lao cooked to survive due to...

Then there was the Farm. They were always getting into some kind of trouble there. Playing daring jokes on each other, helping one another with the back-breaking labor, then the fulfilling trip to Madam Bo's Teahouse. All fond memories.

Before Raiden knew it, the day was already reaching its finale. Raiden worked overtime, something he was often known to do. And working such late hours without Kung Lao there was...Disheartening. Kung Lao wouldn't assist in the work. In his mind, his shift ended at 5:30 P.M. But he would at least stay with Raiden. To provide him company during the late hours. This time around, the nightlife critters and beasts were his only company. The walk home was seemingly worse. The darkened village felt quiet, with only a few shops open with loud commotion. Friends hanging out and enjoying a good drink together as they drank and ate the rest of the evening away.

The only moment of solace Raiden gained was when he walked back into his house. His mother, father, and sister were loud in conversation as they went over the recent village gossip, news & politics, and pastime activities they engaged in. It was a breath of fresh air having this personal community that broke the solemn silence that his best friend filled. The night ended with Raiden sitting down with his family and enjoying the dinner they made. It closed with him and his sister, Fuji, cleaning up after their parents as they turned in early for the night.

"Hey."

"Hmm?" Raiden glances at Fuji as he continues cleaning up the dishes.

"You feeling ok?" Fuji eyes him curiously.

Two days ago, Raiden finally came forward with Fuji about the emptiness he's been feeling. Even though he's in a village that he was born & raised in, filled with familiar faces and family, the fact of the matter is that he dearly missed Kung Lao. But...But it was more than just grieving for a best friend. As if Kung Lao filled deeper shoes than just simply being a friend. When he's in bed, he feels like the mattress is too big all of a sudden. He can't eat certain dishes because it will all remind him of Lao. He finds himself crying to himself because he forgot for a moment that Kung Lao would not answer his door or his phone if Raiden were to call. All these things, even as a best friend, would be reasonable to miss and grieve over. But there was something more to their friendship than that.

"Do you think you loved him?" Raiden remembers Fuji asking him when he came forward with this.

"...I don't know...And if I did...Now I have to reconcile with the fact that I'll never get to tell him..."

Raiden smiles at his sister and playfully bumps shoulders with her. "Now that I'm home? I'm feeling good. The rice and pork was delicious, Fuji."

"I know, right! I used this new spice that my friends were crazy about. It's a Korean spice-"

Fuji rambled on about how she made the dish they had for dinner, and Raiden eagerly listened and conversed with her. Even though Kung Lao was gone, he could try to fill that space with more people who loved him.

-

Outside the residence where Raiden lived, a shadowed figure rests on the rooftops of the sleeping Fengjian village, watching the building like a predator that has found its prey. Blazing red eyes stare through the open windows, watching closely the two figures who pass it daily, unaware they have an interested third party observing them. The being in question, however, was laser-focused on Raiden, watching his every move, taking them to memory. The show would be over, unfortunately, as they closed the curtains and cut off the lights, slumbering like the rest of the village.

The shadowed individual smiles, "Worry not, Raiden. We'll be reunited soon enough. You'll see. Then not even death will tear us apart."

And in a flash of mystical air and dead cherry blossom petals, the figure is gone.

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

Chapter 3: A Burning Tree

No one has seen Liu Kang, not since he disbanded the Earthrealm Warriors. Barely a week after that disbandment, Liu Kang became a ghost in his own academy. None of the monks or students can confidently say where they last saw the Fire God. One moment, he's confined to his meditation area, then at the zen garden or his private quarters. Other times, no one knows where Liu Kang is at all.

Shujinko still remembers that day when Liu Kang called all his champions to inform them of the news. Old and new Earthrealm warriors were gathered for the news, and what Liu Kang announced came as a shock to everyone.

"I may have made a…Selfish choice when I chose each of you to become defenders of Earthrealm. The timeline I originated from, many of you were there as well. Protecting and fighting for our home against threats within and outside of Earthrealm…And with this new era, I foolishly assumed that I could…Replicate the connections that were made before. I have taken up all of your time with new worries, wounds, and ripped you away from the lives you once had before. So…I'm giving you the option…To walk away. From all of this. To return to your homes, your families, the life before I found you. There will be no shame or dishonor if you choose to retire the mantle. I wish each of you a fulfilling life…And I'm sorry."

Shujinko still remembers the near-unified gasp and murmurs that filled the room and the questions that erupted at that moment as everyone tried to make sense of Liu Kang's decision. Liu Kang answered any questions that were brought to him, but Shujinko could tell that Liu Kang was set on his decision. Despite Liu Kang's stance on discontinuing Earthrealms defenders, many opted to continue their service to their realm, especially when Kuai Liang, Tomas, and Ashra argued against Liu Kang's decision to weaken Earthrealms defenses. And where Liu Kang would've listened to their concerns carefully and worked with others to meet in the middle, the Fire God did none of that, uncharacteristically so. It seemed no amount of concrete arguments was going to sway Liu Kang into reconsidering.

If anything, the Shirai Ryu leaders and Ashra's zeal encouraged others to stay and maintain their positions as Earthrealms protectors. After all they've been through, how could one do so? Discovering mystical powers that they all thought to be mythical, experiencing breathtaking realms beyond their own, and for few, the soul-changing truth and reality of their existence. For others, they might not have a home to return to; a life either filled with too many hurtful memories, broken relationships, or homes gone to the wind to never return again. All of that is nigh impossible to walk away from…But walk away, few did.

Their reasons for leaving were their own, and they left with their excuses. But some couldn't return to a normal life for the aforementioned reasons. They knew too much, saw too much; for some, a bit too much. Like a soldier returning from a grueling war, reconciling an average living after spending years, months, maybe even weeks under the wing of Liu Kang and his academy would be much to bear on the psyche. Almost ominously, Liu Kang promised to fix that for them.

What was done to these warriors was not publicly told. Still, Shujinko heard rumors and whispers about Liu Kang wiping away the memories of those who couldn't find it in themselves to leave behind their new life to return to their old one. It's presumed it's a consensual exchange, and Shujinko wants to believe that Liu Kang gave them the choice to lose those memories. But there was something disheartening about knowing that old friends Shujinko knew during his time in the Wu Shi Academy now viewed him as a regular stranger. That some returned home and will never recognize the faces of those whom they considered allies, friends, and maybe even lovers.

Shujinko would know that pain. He experienced it before.

-

Raiden, long before he was exposed to the same memory wipe...When he was...Changed by his former master's death, he revealed why there were gaps and contradictions in his memories. At that time, Shujinko noticed a change that was present in everyone. People were avoiding him, few wanted to train with him, and others spoke to him in such a careful manner as if they were hiding something from the young pupil. Before Kung Lao, Raiden nor Liu Kang would explain why he was treated differently, chalking it up to his new classmates needing time to get to know him.

And for a long time, Shujinko believed that...Until Raiden broke the news to him. It practically came out of nowhere when Raiden revealed this to Shujinko. Shujinko's training was placed in the hands of the thunder wielder. After Kung Lao's death, he was far rougher and blunt than before, pointing out all his flaws but giving little instruction on how to improve. Even Shujinko's ability to copy other's abilities couldn't prepare him how to fight properly. At times, Shujinko thought that Raiden used their time training together as an excuse to use him as a punching bag. None of the other masters at the academy were as ruthless as Raiden, even the ones who were notorious for being a "tough love" type of mentor. Shujinko slowly began to dread training with Raiden...Feared him even. It was almost like Raiden had some...Sick, twisted desire to break his spirit, along with those he encountered.

It was the day when Shujinko practically BEGGED Raiden to stop his assault on him, clearly yielding, nay, submitting, to the thunder wielder. His glowing white hair and eyes, along with the sparks of lightning bouncing off him, becoming an image Shujinko, even to this day, has a hard time disassociating from his idea of what Raiden is. Raiden gave him a light but firm kick, forcing Shujinko on his back after leaning on his side. Raiden walked a short distance away from him, taking in the mountainous view of the academy. Shujinko took that moment to breathe since Raiden rarely gave him breaks anymore.

"...You've been slightly improving, Shujinko," Raiden kept his eyes trained on the scene before him, his voice tainted with a sinister tone.

Shujinko only moved his eyes to look at his master, remaining silent, for he feared that saying anything would rile the thunder wielder. Especially since the clouds have been a dangerous gray for a long time since they started their brawl.

"But you're barely where you need to be. Not like you used to be, anyways." Raiden gibed, still keeping his view on the mountainous regions ahead.

Shujinko KNOWS he shouldn't talk back; he learned a long time ago with this...New Raiden, what happens when he talks back to him. But something deep inside the young monk wanted to bite back at Raiden. After all this time under Raiden's wing, he's been nothing but demeaning to Shujinko. Everything the pupil did seemingly irritated Raiden to no end. If anything, the reason he's 'barely where he needs to be' is because Raiden beats him to near death and doesn't actually teach him! Not like he used to, at least!

Without thinking, Shujinko opened his mouth, venom escaping his lips as he responded to Raiden, "Maybe I would be getting better if you didn't constantly beat the 'lesson' out of me. You know, like how a true master would teach their student. Even Kung Lao knew that."

There was a threatening pause, a silence Shujinko didn't feel until he heard the frightening sound of thunder in the air. It wasn't until now that Shujinko realized where he first fucked up, especially when he put Kung Lao's name in the conversation. Shujinko quickly sat himself up, hissing in pain slightly as his muscles began to strain, and he was reminded that his left leg was sprained. Raiden still paid him no mind, keeping the stillness between them. Shujinko knew a possible beatdown was waiting for him, so he tried to sneak away as quickly as possible.

"You know, before General Shao, you were the first person to make an attempt on Kung Lao's life."

Shujinko froze upon hearing that, twisting his head to look at Raiden. He almost wished he hadn't that day because the look of Raiden looking at Shujinko over his shoulder, white eyes staring deep into his soul, was another unforgettable image he could never scrub from his mind. His mind was swimming with questions. What did Raiden mean? That he almost killed Kung Lao? Never has he ever intentionally attempted to hurt his former master.

"W-what do you mean, master? I would never hurt Master Kung-"

"It's reasonable that you don't remember, you copycat pest," Raiden chastised, making Shujinko feel goosebumps all over his body when Raiden gave him his full attention. "Liu Kang wiped it all away, the memories of the time you got power hungry and nearly compromised the sanctity of the realms."

This all came as a shock to Shujinko as he stared at Raiden stupidly, not registering that Raiden was slowly approaching him.

"And honestly, I think Liu Kang was too kind to you. I should've seen the threat you would become from a mile away. Especially when I watched you nearly snap Kung Lao's neck with your own bare hands. You should've been put down like the dog you were and still are." Raiden continued his encroaching walk toward Shujinko, his hair and eyes glowing with power as red static encompassed him.

Shujinko uselessly backs away from Raiden but is too frightened to take his eyes off the thunder wielder. "N-no. No, no, no, I would never-"

"JUST BECAUSE YOU DON'T REMEMBER DOESN'T MEAN IT NEVER HAPPENED, SHUJINKO," Raiden shouts at the confused pupil, an arc of lightening crashing next to the cowering student, dangerously close for comfort.

"R-RAIDEN, PLEASE, LEAVE ME ALONE!" Shujinko shrieks as he tries to regain his footing, ready to book it out of there.

But he wasn't fast enough, especially with his sprained leg that slowed him down further. Raiden zapped him with multiple streams of lightning straight from his fingertips as he tased Shujinko, the pained screams of his student bringing great inner delight to Raiden, to the amulet. "You're a threat to our realm, to all the realms. You could've been a valuable asset, but Liu Kang is too busy playing the peaceful politician to utilize you as a weapon. Too busy teaching you about harmony and peace when there are actual world-ending threats out there that could be stomped out if we didn't hold ourselves back. That's what killed Kung Lao..."

Shujinko groans in agony as he tries to get away, Raiden's constant assault making it difficult to move any part of his body. "RAIDEN, PLEASE!"

"...So, I guess the only way you won't become a potential threat is if you are never a threat at all." Raiden began to intensify the bolts of lighting, the sounds of Shujinko howling in pain becoming music to his ears.

"RAIDEN!"

Finally, the lightning stopped, and Shujinko collapsed from the constant strain on his body. Raiden snapped his head towards Liu Kang, the one who gained his attention before he could finally kill Shujinko. The Fire God rushed to the unconscious student before angrily looking at Raiden.

"You could've killed him, Raiden! What's gotten into you!?!"

Raiden stared at Liu Kang, not answering him but not showing any signs of guilt either. After a brief pause, Raiden turned his back on the pair and walked away.

"Raiden! Don't you walk away from me! Rai-"

Before Liu Kang could stop him, Raiden disappeared in a flash of lightning. Something Liu Kang was all too familiar with; Lord Raiden would do the same thing if he were to exit a scene.

The next thing Shujinko knew, he was in the many medical care rooms of the Wu Shi Academy, receiving treatment for his wounds. Multiple nurses dressed his injuries before Liu Kang approached Shujinko, expressing how Raiden would no longer be responsible for training him and that he would be assigned to a new teacher. While that was a relief to his ears...Something else bothered Shujinko.

"...Is it true that I almost killed Kung Lao...That I almost destroyed the realms..."

Liu Kang was so taken aback by this that he didn't immediately answer him.

"...Is that why my memories are missing, Lord Liu Kang? Because I'm a threat?" Shujinko's voice starts to shake as he can feel an overwhelming dread take over him.

Even though Liu Kang didn't answer him, the silence was telling. Despite this, Liu Kang didn't conceal the truth from him. Yes, Shujinko did nearly become a threat to all the realms...And yes, regrettably, he did almost kill Kung Lao when they tried to subdue him. And there were others that Shujinko did kill...His best friend, Apep...Was one of the many casualties that Shujinko caused. All of this because Shujinko, at that time, became puffed up with pride and hungry for power. But it wasn't something that came out of nowhere. Liu Kang admitted that Kung Lao's early years as a master at the Wu Shi Academy taught him many lessons about humility, which Lao had to learn the hard way when teaching Shujinko the first time.

Liu Kang had no choice but to wipe his memories away, bringing him back to when he was first found by Liu Kang and his warriors. And like a house fire, the flames burned away nearly every inkling of his repertoire, leaving very little for Shujinko to remember. However, that also meant there was no way to recover those memories, even if Liu Kang wanted to return them. Much like a valued family heirloom that was destroyed during a fire, there is precious little that can recover the lost item.

While this meant that Shujinko would not be haunted by the constant reminder of his failures...It still pained him to think that he COULD be a threat to be reckoned with. If anything, he almost wished he never learned the truth. Living in ignorance would've been preferable to living in fear of himself.

-

Shujinko blinks, not realizing he's been standing idle in front of Liu Kang's private quarters for…Who knows how long. No one has seen Liu Kang-not since he disbanded the Earthrealm Warriors. Barely a week after that disbandment, Liu Kang became a ghost in his own academy. None of the monks can confidently say where they last saw the fire god. One moment, he's confined to his meditation area, then at the zen garden, or his private quarters. Other times, no one knows where Liu Kang is at all. Oftentimes, it was just best to leave offerings for the Fire God at his (once) usual spots and come back an hour later. Usually, the contents were gone upon returning to retrieve them.

Shujinko should leave the tray behind, knock on the door, then go. But something compelled him to linger a bit longer after the initial knock.

"…Lord Liu Kang?" Shujinko meekly calls out. He tries the door, and to his surprise, it was unlocked.

-

"Are you going to let me die? Like you did Lao?"

"HE WOULD'VE WANTED TO LIVE WITH ME. SPEND THE REST OF HIS LIFE WITH ME! HIS FUCKING BOYFRIEND!"

"I LOVED HIM, LIU KANG! WITH ALL MY HEART, I LOVED HIM!!! AND YOU TOOK HIM FROM ME! YOU DID THIS TO ME!!"

"Even if you didn't know fully that Kung Lao would die, why didn't you tell us! Why didn't you save him?"

"BRING HIM BACK! BRING HIM BACK TO ME!"

"Why did you let him die."

"Why did you let him die."

"Why did you let him die."

Those words will always haunt Liu Kang. The pain in Raiden's voice, the intensity of his lightning strikes, the hatred he felt for Liu Kang. That's not something one can move on from, no matter how many years pass. But these words cut deeper than Raiden or anyone could ever imagine

-

In his youthful, mortal years, Liu Kang made the stupidest decision of his life and fell in love with a god. Of all the people he could dedicate his life to than the LITERAL GOD OF THUNDER. Liu would become another footnote in their unending life, an entity that will outlive him by decades, who probably went through multiple lovers. Not only that, but he was pretty much RAISED by this man. He practically went through the entire spectrum of relationships with Raiden, first strangers, then friends, mentor & student, father & son…And now Liu Kang wanted to add lovers to that?

Liu Kang, even then, tried to psyche himself out of falling for Raiden. He had many other suitors, plenty of girls and boys who threw themselves at the Shaolin Monk, and he had plenty of options to choose from. But no matter how he tried, his heart yearned for Raiden. If you asked Liu Kang how he discovered that he grew an affinity for Raiden…There was no straight answer.

Liu Kang can probably point to his formative years as a teen, when he was trying to traverse and reconcile with his growing and changing body. He remembered many times where he lingered at those he found attractive, one of those individuals being Raiden. But back then, Liu Kang assumed that he was just "admiring his physique" and using Raiden to motivate him to get stronger.

But the feelings of desire did not fade away as he grew older. If anything, they evolved. Soon, he was having silly daydreams about Raiden. Wondering how it would feel to be held protectively by the Thunder God as he lifted them away from danger. What his white mane must feel like, and how Raiden would react if Liu ran his fingers through his hair or braided it. Or perhaps how would Raiden feel if Liu put in the effort to make him a meal, something that Raiden would love. He started noticing little details about Raiden that none did, such as the light glow in Raiden's eyes when he was talking with someone he fancied or the age lines when he smiled. But then these innocent daydreams became…Fuel for more carnal wants. Soon, it developed into memorizing his physique for…Reasons.

Liu Kang began to wonder how it would feel to have Raiden pull at his hair, to whisper in his ear, to pin him down, speak sweet nothings to him, to claim Liu Kang as his, something Raiden could do at any point in time if he wished. A god could take whatever it wanted, and Liu Kang would've gladly let Raiden do whatever he desired with him.

But what outweighed the carnality and soft trances was his genuine love for Raiden. On the same note of noticing small characteristics of the Thunder God, Liu Kang did know of his favorite food (it's nuclear buffalo wings); he learned about Raiden's brother, Fujin, knew about the many adventures that Raiden partook in, both sad and joyful. Liu Kang KNEW Raiden, and it made him fall for the god most spectacularly.

But Liu Kang overstepped his boundaries. He and Raiden were sparing together as Liu Kang wanted to demonstrate to Raiden that he was ready for the Mortal Kombat tournament. It was a sweat-inducing endeavor as there was an intense back-and-forth, each of them blocking and countering the others' attacks before finally, Liu Kang gained the upper hand, pinning Raiden below him.

"Do you yield?" Liu Kang says, out of breath.

"Y-yes. I yield," Raiden, just as winded, replied as he shot Liu Kang with a reassuring smile. "You have improved thanks to Bo' Rai Cho's teachings."

"And I have you to thank for making me a recommendation," Liu readjusts himself, sitting up on top of Raiden while not applying much weight to the god below him.

There's a moment where Raiden and he are quiet after some idle talk, Liu Kang only noticing that Raiden was staring at him with a growing smile. "…What?"

"You are ready, Liu Kang. You will be the one who will save Earthrealm from Outworld's attempts to merge the realms under their tyranny."

Even though Raiden praised him countless times before, Liu Kang cannot help the growing heat from surfacing on his face. He faces away from Raiden before muttering, "You flatter me, Lord Raiden…"

"You'll need a constant reminder that I, along with every defender of Earthrealm, will be cheering for you during the tournament. The kombatants you encounter will test your might, vigor, and mental capacities. I believe you are ready. I know you will become the chosen defender that Earthrealm needs." Raiden softly professed as he leaned up, using his elbows to leverage himself.

Liu Kang looked at Raiden, meeting the Thunder God eye-to-eye. Liu Kang saw his whole world in Raiden's white pupils, soaking in every hint of emotion displayed before him.

"Liu Kang?"

Liu didn't even realize that he was leaning closer to Raiden.

"Is there something you want to tell me?"

Liu Kang didn't even register that Raiden was asking questions.

Before Liu Kang knew it, he pressed his lips with Raiden's. At last, his hearing decided to work so that he could hear the surprised "mph!" noise from the Thunder God. It was perhaps Liu Kang's first kiss; he wasn't as adventurous as Kung Lao, who definitely had a few run-ins with various individuals. It being Liu Kang's first, it wasn't anything remarkable, but it was memorable to Liu Kang…But not for the reasons he would've wanted.

When they finally parted, Liu Kang felt like he could breathe again. The shocked expression plastered on Raiden's face, however, was unexpected. They both remain in total silence, neither making a move nor taking the first step to speak. Raiden would finally be the first to move, indicating that Liu Kang would finally get off the Thunder God. Liu Kang courteously helped Raiden back to his feet; his hand, however, did not leave Raiden's.

"…I…I must go," Raiden quickly excused himself, disconnecting his hand from Liu Kang.

Liu Kang watched Raiden leave, and the feeling of awkwardness and humiliation quickly overwhelmed him.

Since that day, the pair seemed to share the same idea of just avoiding each other. But where Liu Kang was avoiding Raiden out of embarrassment, Raiden...Liu Kang couldn't figure him out (that bit of mysteriousness always being an aspect of Raiden he did like). Before, Liu Kang didn't mind it, but when Liu Kang began to rediscover the courage to approach Raiden, the Thunder God was always turning the other way or shortening their conversations considerably. He could never get a moment with Raiden as he was always in discussion with someone else, busy with other matters, or needed to consult those Elder Gods.

But they would finally have a one-on-one a literal week before the official Mortal Kombat tournament. Liu Kang and Kung Lao sat with their Shaolin Monk brethren and family, the spiritual brothers jesting from across the table and talking about their eventful day. Raiden was missing from the scene, but he would suddenly appear in the mess hall where they were all meeting.

"Liu Kang, do you have a moment?"

Many faces turn to Liu Kang with curiosity. The same kind of energy children would have when one is called to the principal's office. Liu Kang feels a knot in his stomach, and he wipes his face with an available napkin, "Yes, Lord Raiden."

"Ooh~! You're in trouble~" Kung Lao jokes, releasing the tension effortlessly in the room.

Liu Kang smirks at his friend, throwing a dumpling at the razerhat wielder before skipping away from the table. Approaching Raiden and meeting him in the hallway, he noticed that Raiden continued walking further into the Shaolin Temple.

"Was there a reason for my audience, Lord Raiden?" Liu Kang finally asked after a couple turns here and there, but Raiden still remained silent. The knot in Liu Kang's stomach grows tighter as he anticipates their stop.

Liu Kang tried to calm himself when they finally reached a secluded area in the temple, outside near the zen garden. Raiden stops in his tracks near a still-in-bloom cherry blossom tree. Funnily enough, it was the same tree he and Kung Lao would often play near when they were children, and sometimes, they secretly trained together under said tree.

"...Is there...Something wrong, Raiden?" Liu Kang drops the professionalism as he tries to make this personal, trying to appease the human side of Raiden.

"...About that...Day...When we both...When we both sparred together as we tested your skills for the tournament."

OHFUCKOHFUCKOHFUCKOHFUCKOHFUCKOHFUCK!

Liu Kang visibly and verbally swallows as he stares at Raiden's back, the Thunder God still not facing Liu Kang.

"...Yes..." This was all Liu Kang could utter as he waited for Raiden to continue.

"I...Um..." Even Raiden was at a loss for words as if he had just decided RIGHT NOW that he wanted to talk about this. "...I...I recognize that you have developed a fondness for me."

It felt like Liu Kang's heart would jump out of his body or crawl out of his mouth. A large part of his being was vibrating with excitement. Is this it? Is this the part where they finally take the next step? Liu Kang couldn't help but step in place, leaning against one foot before placing added pressure on the other. Liu Kang wanted to say it. He wanted to declare his emotions in front of Raiden before the Thunder God could finish.

'I love you. I love you so much, Raiden. You have no idea the nights I would stay up with you on my mind. The pain I go through because I wanted to be near you, close to you, with you.'

All of this and more, Liu Kang wanted to confess, but he is disciplined, he is patient. He will wait for Raiden to finish his thought if he has more to say.

"...And I have that same...Care for you, too, Liu Kang. There's much history between us, and I understand that you may have grown a deeper affinity for me."

There's a BUT in there. There's a MASSIVE BUT in there. But Liu Kang didn't hear it. He was too enamored, far too blinded by his own love for Raiden to even recognize the writing on the walls.

"But I must, respectfully, decline your love for me."

Liu Kang's world felt like it shattered around him. Somewhere, deep down, Liu Kang knew this could be a possibility. A high probability, in fact.

But it didn't make it hurt any less. Liu Kang stared at Raiden dumbfound. There must be a reason why. Is he not his type? Is it due to the circumstances of the tournament? Is Raiden already seeing someone else? What was the reason?

"…Goodnight, Liu Kang," and Raiden proceeded to walk away. Or, at least, attempt to.

It took all of Liu Kang's willpower to surge after him and grab his wrist, "Wait! W-why can't we? I mean, you said you felt the same way, so why do you decline." Liu Kang didn't mean to sound desperate, but he wanted to know. Maybe there might still be a chance he can still win Raiden's love.

"Liu Kang, you're letting your emotions control you. I said what I said; there's nothing more to it-"

Liu Kang forces himself in his line of sight, "Why, Raiden. That's all I ask."

"Does the why really matter, Liu Kang?"

"It matters enough to me as your friend…"

"…We're not compatible," Raiden tries to say with finality.

"And why is that?"

"Liu-"

"Is it because I'm mortal? The tournament?"

"Liu Kang!" Raiden's eyes flare with godly power as his voice booms like thunder. This immediately quiets Liu Kang. Raiden takes a moment to breathe, reeling back his anger. "…You have many admirable qualities. You're handsome, patient, caring, determined, and good-willed. These are aspects that anyone would fall for and would be lucky to have you as their significant other. And…Perhaps, in another life, I could return your feelings. But I cannot provide you the happiness you think I can give. The amount of responsibilities and burdens…I'm sorry, but I just wouldn't be able to emotionally and physically give back to you."

Liu Kang was speechless as he gazed at Raiden. It hurts too that Raiden is just too good at keeping a stoic look, so Liu Kang can't even find any cracks in his "it's not you, it's me" speech.

"We both will have our 'plates filled' during and after the tournament. A lot of opportunities will be heading your way. I know a mortal's life is short; one must grab at every chance of life that one can. But believe me when I say that you will find someone who will love you more than I ever could. And it might end up being someone unexpected." Raiden smiles as he places a hand on Liu Kang's shoulder.

Liu Kang slowly hangs his head low slightly, not exactly looking at Raiden's feet, but not meeting his gaze either. "I'm sorry for lashing out, Lord Raiden."

"Do not apologize, it's natural. Believe it or not, I have had plenty of experience with such bursts of emotions. I will always love you, Liu Kang, and I pray that someone will love you more than I do."

-

When Liu Kang recreated this timeline, his main goal and motivation was always to provide his friends a new life. A better life. A second chance at being happy. And sometimes, that meant changing and altering events so that his friends and companions could achieve that life they'd always wanted.

That's why Raiden's words cut so close to home. The old Raiden, the former Thunder God, his mentor, his father…The one that got away. Liu Kang only wanted Raiden to be happy because he saw the stress and pressure Raiden had to maintain on his own from the outside looking in. And being a Fire God himself, he can finally reconcile with those tough decisions Raiden burdened himself with. There were times Liu Kang just wanted to hold him, to kiss away any tears or fears Raiden had.

But they were never meant to be, but that never meant that Raiden's happiness never came first for Liu Kang. Liu Kang may not be able to provide for Raiden emotionally or physically. Still, he can give him a life where he doesn't have to worry about a single thing. So he put Raiden in his shoes and gave him everything Liu Kang would've wanted. A loving family, a best friend, a wise mentor…A home…Everything Liu Kang had lost or never had, he gave to Raiden…In some way, it was almost like a thank-you gift to the one god who gave him everything in his mortal life.

"Lord Liu Kang?"

Liu Kang opens his eyes as he's slightly disturbed from his meditation. He can see Shujinko peeking through the door, a tray full of food.

"I'm sorry to disturb you. I wanted to bring you a meal from the mess hall…"

Liu Kang's glowing eyes stare at the young pupil, and he gestures for him to enter. The young man hurries into Liu Kang's quarters, admiring the gods' room briefly before setting the tray in front of Liu. Just as Shujinko was about to leave, Liu Kang speaks up, "Please, sit with me. I…I would like the company."

"R-really?" Shujinko looks at Liu Kang in utter surprise. He doesn't know anyone in the academy who has sat down with Liu Kang since the Fire God decided to isolate himself. He's probably the first in a long time to actually SEE Liu Kang in so long. "Are you sure?"

Liu Kang smiles as he picks up the bowl of rice and chopsticks. "I don't eat much anymore. You can have some of the items presented."

Shujinko was still dumbfounded as he watched Liu consume the rice. Shujinko finally sits across from Liu, picks up a slice of bread, and carefully takes a bite. The pair ate in silence, which was more than enough for Liu Kang. Just being near someone, even if it was someone he wasn't too familiar with, Liu Kang knew that he needed to break this cycle at some point. If Kung Lao was here, he would've scolded him, dragged his sorry-ass outside, and forced him to rekindle himself with the world. Liu Kang actually chuckles to himself as he thinks about this.

"Hmm?" Shujinko looks at Liu Kang, startled.

"Nothing, Shujinko…Just thinking…" Liu Kang smiles.

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

Chapter 4: Deadly Sakura

Sweat dripping, blood pumping, bones aching, ears ringing. Raiden's breaths were labored as he kneeled on the ground, eyes trained on Reiko, General Shao's cock sleeve.

For several months, Earthrealms protectors rushed to stop General Shao from releasing the feared Onaga, the Dragon King. It was a grueling chase that was quickly depleting their morale... Mainly because this campaign cost them their dear friend, Raiden's lover, Kung Lao. It was the first time any of them had to face the reality that their line of work, the service they signed up for, could result in any of them dying at the drop of a dime. The only thing keeping them motivated was the coming destruction Onaga COULD make IF they didn't stop General Shao.

But for Raiden, his motivation ran more fervently than simply protecting his realm and Outworld; it was pure vengeance. Since Lao's death, Raiden swore to himself that he would not let anyone close to him fall under his watch. Kung Lao's death could've been avoided if he had been powerful, more vigilant, and didn't hold himself back. Then, maybe...No...Definitely...Kung Lao would've lived.

Sweat dripping, blood pumping, bones aching, ears ringing. Raiden's breaths were labored as he kneeled on the ground, eyes trained on Reiko as the warrior positioned himself with his spear in a defensive stance. Raiden didn't bother to see which of his allies were still up; Johnny was down, Kenshi was out; even Smoke couldn't keep up.

"Better that way. They were holding you back."

Raiden couldn't agree more. With them out of the way, Raiden could get more personal with Reiko. It was his horn-headed master who killed his boyfriend, and he would hate for the weak moralities of his companions to get in the way of what he was about to do with this tattooed warrior.

Raiden took a deep breath and straightened himself out, going into the many martial stances he learned training under Liu Kang's wing (not that they helped in any way, as petty as that sounds). The two kombatants circle each other, locked in a silent game of feeling the other out. Blue lightning sparked off Raiden, coursing through his entire being. He can feel the amulet begging to release its full potential and power, the electricity spilling from his fingertips tempting him further.

Finally, one of them decides to react as Reiko charges Raiden. Arcs of lightning attempt to meet Reiko halfway, but the experienced lieutenant was able to bob & weave past every bolt that came his way. Raiden dodges out the way of Reiko's spear attack as the warrior attempted to ram his weapon into the thunder wielder. A fierce back & forth commences as Raiden tries to keep his distance from Reiko's spear attacks, the fellow kombatant leaving little room for Raiden to land any strike on him. Reiko would finally get one good hit on Raiden as he smacked him square in the face with his spear, leaving a nasty laceration on Raiden's face. Fortunately, Raiden was milliseconds too early to lose his lower jaw.

Raiden growls as he shoots a line of lightning at Reiko, using the warrior's stunned condition to gain further distance. He hisses at the pain that grows once the adrenaline softly subsided. Raiden lightly touches the wound, the red hue bringing a sense of…Excitement to the thunder wielder.

"He dares wound us? Horrible mistake. He should've killed us with such a strike."

The voice copies Raiden's glee and thrill.

Reiko grunts as he puts one foot before the other, forcing himself out of his stunned condition. "Shame my master couldn't watch this hopeless display of kombat. He would've loved to see what face you would make once I help you join your hat-throwing friend to the afterlife." Reiko taunts.

"Shame, indeed," Raiden agrees. "Shame that your master had to leave you, his second-rate lieutenant, to finish the job that he started. What? Was he too scared to face the man he ruined the life of? I would've thought he would want to rub in my face further how he killed Kung Lao."

Whether or not Raiden's follow-up gibe reached Reiko was a mystery; the fellow kombatant only chuckled as he circled about Raiden like a predator. "Believe me when I say that it would've delighted him to do so. But he has better things to do than waste time with a petulant child like yourself."

"Or maybe he's embarrassed that he lost a fight with Earthrealm's chosen warrior." Raiden continues to taunt as the power of the amulet strengthens him further.

"He was pulling his punches. Need I remind you that it was a tournament that held my master back. Any other circumstance and General Shao would've ripped you apart."

"Really? Then you must still be pulling your own punches. I have yet to fall to you."

"Then let me change that for you!" Reiko shouts as he charges Raiden again.

Instead of continuing their previous dance of cat & mouse, Raiden summons himself behind Reiko through a lightning bolt, catching the lieutenant slightly off guard. But Reiko couldn't recover fast enough as Raiden hit him in the back with several fist attacks powered by electrical currents. Reiko powers through the assault and attempts a wide arching swing with his spear, an attack Raiden counters as he grabs at its shaft and yanks the weapon away from the kombatant.

Unfortunately, Reiko, without a weapon, didn't make him powerless. Just as quickly as he lost the spear, he swiftly replaced it with the large knife he keeps on him at all times, slashing at Raiden from his right shoulder to where his heart resided. Raiden screamed in pain, backing away, but was not able to recover himself from Reiko's assault as the lieutenant started hitting him with various fist and knife attacks; some of them Raiden clumsily countered.

Raiden teleports again in a bolt of lightning as he tries to gain distance from Reiko again, hiding behind cover and slightly recovering. He's losing too much blood, and he can feel his vitality draining from him. Raiden quickly tears pieces of his attire to serve as makeshift bandages to help slow the bleeding.

"Why must you prolong this? You're not here to provoke and tease. You're here to kill the ones who murdered Lao. Finish this before he finishes you. And once he's on his knees, we can leave General Shao a lovely gift, just for him."

Right, the voice is right. Raiden cannot afford to keep pussyfooting around the battlefield. He's starting to act like…Johnny…That's what Raiden would prefer to compare himself to than…Regardless, Raiden removes himself from his hiding place, surprising Reiko with multiple lightning bolts as he rushes toward him. Reiko avoided most of the bolts but couldn't react fast enough to prevent Raiden from disarming him again, knocking his combat knife out of his hands and leaving Reiko weaponless again. But, once again, this did not mean Reiko was useless.

Reiko is quick to trip Raiden after losing his knife, attempting to slam his foot down on Raiden's face if it wasn't for the thunder wielder rolling away. Raiden jumps back to his feet and bends his fingers, channeling the powers of lightning into the area around them and causing lightning to spark and crackle dangerously close to the pair. Reiko grunts in pain as various shocks hit him in multiple places, and in the split second that Raiden releases his control over the lightning strikes, the thunder wielder humiliates him.

Various punches, kicks, and an onslaught of lightning were rapidly being served to Reiko, with little room for him to counter or even dodge any attacks. Soon, Reiko was slammed onto the dirt floor, unconscious. Raiden breathed slowly as he regained his strength despite the heavy loss of blood. His white hair and eyes dim away, his dark brown eyes returning to normal. Looking at Reiko's slumbering body, this would be the part where he would cuff him and have Reiko turned in as a prisoner…

"Finish him."

The voice encourages the very sentiment that Raiden was thinking of.

Raiden conjures ropes of electricity, wrapping them around the defeated warrior and sitting him up in a kneeling position on both knees. Raiden approaches Reiko and slaps him a couple times to forcefully wake him up.

Upon fluttering his eyes open, Reiko is met with Raiden looking down at the warrior, eyes and hair dimly glowing while electricity buzzes around him. Reiko tries to reach for Raiden, but he realizes he's bounded by lightning.

"I wonder if General Shao will shed tears if he sees how I break his favorite boytoy."

All that fills Raiden's ears and memories is pained screams, crimson, and Reiko being pulled apart limb by limb while also being fried by Raiden's lightning-bounds. Raiden beat him further, gouged out his eyes, gutted him. It wasn't until he felt someone tear him away from the expired Reiko that he was thrown off his bloodthirsty onslaught.

-

Raiden wakes up covered in sweat, breathing shallow, and eyes blown wide. He stares at his bedroom wall ahead of him as his brain quickly registers that he is not only awake but in the safety of his home. It was a dream, one of many that he has gotten over the year and a half that he's been back in Fengjian. But this one was…Horrific. It was a dream; Raiden knows it was a dream. Just a figment of scenes that his mind conjured up. Yet, he felt sick to his stomach. As a matter of fact, yes, he will indeed hurl whatever contents were still in his belly before he fell asleep last night. Raiden rushed out of bed and made a beeline for the bathroom.

-

"Raiden? Are you ok?"

Raiden snaps his head up and looks at his younger sister, Fuji, with a confused startlement. "Hmm?"

"You haven't touched your food, dear. Is there something on your mind?" Raiden's Mother chimes in with equal amounts of concern.

"I-I'm fine." Raiden sputters as he takes a forkful of eggs from his plate.

"Raiden," his Father speaks up, "You've been…Troubled as of late. You've been…Restless. Like, you're not getting enough sleep."

"And you've been going to work late or not going to work at all recently. We're starting to grow concerned, Raiden. Is it…" Raiden's Mother looks at the rest of the family nervously, "Is it because of that…The thing that's stuck to your stomach?"

Raiden subtly writhes in his seat as he tries to establish an air of normalcy. "I'm fine, guys. Promise."

An awkward stillness fills the table, forcing Raiden to finish his plate early and excuse himself from the table. "I'm, um, going to take a walk, run some errands. I'll see you guys later."

Raiden does his best to not show it, but he practically threw himself out of the house. He rubs his eyes, trying to blink away the exhaustion. He will admit, though, that he hasn't been getting any rest lately. His dreams have been getting…Intense lately. So much so that Raiden is having a more challenging time believing these are just dreams.

Raiden was never the type to see omens in dreams, but these past months have made him a believer. They're too consistent and (somewhat) grounded in reality for it to just be slumbering hallucinations. His sister and parents have been urging him to seek therapy, saying that perhaps talking with a professional might assist with the memory loss. And while Raiden has taken their advice to heart…He isn't sure if he's ready to go that extra mile just yet. It's definitely a soon-ish prospect, but not a RIGHT NOW endeavor.

Raiden doesn't even remember why he left the house anymore. He wandered aimlessly through the streets of Fengjian. Taking in the familiar sights, having small talk with friendly locals, and making small purchases for himself and the house. It wasn't until early in the afternoon that Raiden finally registered that he wandered into the old neighborhood where…Kung Lao once lived…Kung Lao's house was on the outskirts of Fengjian and closer to the streams and farmlands of the village. Raiden stares blankly at the residence of his past friends' abode; it's been so long since he stepped foot in there. Raiden approaches the front door. Despite his better intuition that he shouldn't enter the house, he still unconsciously grabs the doorknob and opens the front entrance.

Inside was unsurprisingly empty, yet it still caught Raiden off guard when faced with the heavily vacant home. Raiden can only let out an air of relief that the house wasn't vandalized; he would've scrubbed the place from the front to the backyard if that were the case, foolish as that may be. Stepping inside, a wave of nostalgia hits Raiden like a gut punch as he immediately remembers all the times he and Kung Lao hung out together. Admittedly, they rarely went to Kung Lao's house. It was always 'hangout at Raiden's because he had food, a cool bedroom, and all the sweet toys.'

Raiden smiles as his mind reminds him of the first time he and Kung Lao met. They were both in their first year of being 10 years of age, and the pair would first meet when Kung Lao stole Fuji's backpack (she was 6 at that time). Although Raiden was under the tutorage of Madam Bo, nothing would've prepared him for the street-smarts knowledge that Kung Lao possessed. He was agile, knew the shortcuts and ins-&-outs of Fengjian, and hopped from rooftop to rooftop with exceptional ease. And while Raiden's disciplined mind couldn't keep up with Lao, that didn't mean he didn't learn a thing or two from Lao, either. For a week, the young lad began taking note of Fengjian's many shortcuts and how best to parkour off buildings and structures. Soon, Raiden was nearly able to catch up to Kung Lao.

Their friendship wouldn't truly begin until Raiden found Kung Lao on the outskirts of Fengjian. In this area, flooding was a known worry due to excessive rain. His parents always told Raiden to never go out to the outskirts for his own safety. But against their wishes, Raiden pushed forward to chase after Kung Lao. When he finally found Kung Lao, the pair fought for the first time, with Raiden coming out on top. But, instead of immediately returning the many contents, including Fuji's backpack, back to their original owners, Raiden shared a snack with Lao.

Within the week of their near-endless chasing, Raiden noticed that Kung Lao almost always stole food from others, among other things. Being his typical kind self, Raiden wanted to understand why Kung Lao did what he did. It was almost unsurprising to Raiden, even at that young age, to learn that Kung Lao was homeless and seemingly had no parents to care for him. Sympathetic to Kung Lao's living conditions, Raiden offered to have him stay at his house until his parents came to pick him up. From there, the two became friends and would train under Madam Bo together.

As Raiden reminisced about the past, he slowly traversed the abandoned house of his best friend. He stops in front of a room that served as Kung Lao's bedroom, a frown creeping across his face.

Raiden remembers the first time Kung Lao met his Mother. Whoever his Father was, no one had a clue or a chance to meet them. Before then, Kung Lao hung out at Raiden's house, where his family welcomed the young boy when they discovered he was "orphaned." But Raiden's parents didn't intend to keep Kung Lao and asked around if anyone could house the boy. It eventually came down to Kung Lao living with Madam Bo for a short while until his birth mother came to take Kung Lao back.

Kung Lao's mother was…Troubled, to say the least. At face value, many would say she was ill-fit to raise a child. She abandoned her son and was gone from Fengjian for most of Kung Lao's life. It wasn't until later in life that Raiden also learned that she had a substance problem. But despite these red flags…She tried to be a mother in the end. It's funny how children perceive adults because it wasn't until he was an older teen that he heard nuanced things about Kung Lao's Mother. Lao's Mother, with the community's help, was able to get a decent home (still in the outskirts of Fengjian, but it was a roof over their head), a paying job, and was going clean as she cared for herself and Kung Lao.

But when Kung Lao spoke about his Mother before her untimely death, he talked badly about her. Not that Raiden could blame him. She abandoned him for most of his life and left Lao to fend for himself in Fengjian with no parental figures to look after him. Only for her to return and make amends and be a proper mother. That was asking for Kung Lao's trust, something he didn't have for his Mother. So Kung Lao was seemingly never satisfied with her efforts to be a loving guardian for him, even when they had personal mother & son moments together.

It wasn't until she died when they were both in their mid-teens that Kung Lao solemnly started to appreciate his Mother. Raiden still remembers getting a haunting call from Kung Lao about how his Mother wasn't getting up from her sleep. The way Kung Lao spoke over the phone was uncannily calm as Lao was in a stunned, emotional state. Raiden had never run so fast in his life when he and his sister rushed to Kung Lao's side while his parents were getting emergency services to Lao's house. Before and during the funeral, Kung Lao isolated himself from everyone. Raiden remembered how Kung Lao didn't want to attend his Mother's funeral; perhaps the pain of seeing her one last time was much for Lao.

But Raiden would finally understand Kung Lao's shift when he followed Kung Lao to the one cherry blossom tree they would both hang out under. The pair sat in silence together, and Kung Lao was the first to admit that...

That he regretted he never allowed his Mother into his life emotionally. What broke Raiden's heart further was learning that the one time Kung Lao allowed his walls to come down was the day before his Mother died. Lao & his Mother both went out to eat at Madam Bo's Teahouse; they had a big feast to celebrate his birthday. They laughed and talked; it was the first time Kung Lao actually allowed himself to grow closer to his mom. Kung Lao expressed that his mother promised they would move away from Fengjian to live in the nearby cities, even gifting her son a postcard she picked up when she was away from Fengjian many years ago.

Raiden pulls himself off the memory road as he stares at the wall where a pinned postcard still remains, old and withered. The postcard displayed the Shunde District, beautifully showing the city-like streetlife of the distant land. Raiden could already hear Kung Lao's constant rants about wanting to leave Fengjian and how they could both be destined for something greater outside of their small village.

Raiden scoffs sadly as he touches the postcard hushedly, saying, "I know I don't remember much. But I hope we both found our higher calling wherever we went…I miss you, Lao."

"…Raiden…"

Raiden freezes in place as he hears a whisper behind him. He quickly turned around; he didn't hear anyone enter the house after him. But no one was there when he tried to face the disembodied voice. Raiden's eyes slowly scanned the room, a fruitless endeavor since there was scarcely anywhere for anyone to hide from his sight. But Raiden felt his skin crawl when he thought he saw someone move from his peripheral near the entrance of Kung Lao's room.

Raiden was never the type to see omens, but a sense of dread started to creep inside him. Raiden sped-walked out of the abandoned house, only now noticing it was getting late in the afternoon, and sauntered back home. The goosebump feelings never left him, even after he walked through the front door of his own house.

-

"Lord Liu Kang?"

Liu Kang flutters his eyes open upon hearing a knock and the sound of Shujinko's voice on the other side of the door. "Come in."

The young monk opens the door eagerly, bringing in a tray of food as he hurries to sit across from the Fire God. It's been several days since they began their routine meet-up. Whenever Shujinko was tasked to deliver food to Liu Kang, he would invite the novice to sit and eat with him. It was a silent company, the pair often sharing the tray as they quietly enjoyed each other's presence.

Liu Kang smiles as Shujinko ardently sits across from him, setting the tray down with its contents. Liu Kang is surprised to see more food on display than usual. "You must have been hungry," Liu chuckles.

"Oh? Oh!" Shujinko looks at the tray and rubs the back of his head, embarrassed. "I missed out on breakfast and spent the rest of the morning not eating. Thought I was going to pass out, so I grabbed whatever I could."

"I see Kung Lao's influence has rubbed on you, then," Liu Kang jests as he grabs the bread and a small cup of butter.

"Please, Master Kung Lao would've eaten the entire tray, and I would be left with whatever he couldn't finish," Shujinko heartedly responds as he takes the bowl of soup.

In their still tranquility, Shujinko eyes the private quarters of Liu Kang's space. It still amazes him how much the Fire God has collected throughout the years. Relics that belong in museums filled the room, many with otherworldly origins. Shujinko takes notice of the many shelves displaying countless books and artifacts. Still, his eyes focus on one particular hand-drawn portrait.

"Is that Master Kung Lao?" Shujinko stands and approaches the picture. The individual in the painting bears a striking resemblance to the Kung Lao he knows. The facial structure is mildly different, and they have no hair compared to Lao's buzzed undercut.

Liu Kang watched Shujinko walk to the portrait before explaining its origin, "One of Kung Lao's many ancestors. He shared Kung Lao's name, though many called him "The Great Kung Lao."

"Was he just as prideful and ambitious to bear such a title?" Shujinko smirks as he turns to look at Liu Kang.

Liu laughs as he shakes his head, "Despite the title, he was as humble as one could be. Though, he never shied away from demonstrating his capabilities. It was everyone else who gave him his title. The Great Kung Lao was the finest of Earthrealms warriors. Every Mortal Kombat tournament, he had won."

"Every Kombat?"

"Every one from his era..."

Liu Kang's sudden silence catches Shujinko off guard as he can see Liu Kang staring into place, consumed by memories that resurfaced. Shujinko has seen this happen a few times and quickly asks another question to distract Liu Kang from his own headspace. "Um, did Kung Lao, our Kung Lao, know about him?"

"...Yes, yes, he did. How else do you think he obtained the hat?"

"What? He told me he made it himself!" Shujinko looks at Liu Kang, shocked.

"That he did, later versions of his ancestors' hat. The original I gave to him. He used it for a time but opted to utilize his own version of the Great Kung Lao's razerhat until he felt he was worthy to bear his ancestors' hat."

Shujinko nods in understanding, looking back at the portrait again, "I can imagine he would be proud of Kung Lao."

"That he would."

Shujinko was about to step away, but he now just noticed the second individual in the painting. He doesn't know how he missed them; they weren't in the background; they stood front and center, side-by-side with the Great Kung Lao in the portrait. The gentleman next to the Great Kung Lao had paler skin than the other, resembling a shade of someone who has lived closer up north. Yet, it still had a ghostly tinge than someone resembling a northerner. Their eyes were milky white, but it was the type of hue that made it seem as if they were losing sight in both eyes. Their facial features were gaunt, and their musculature was sickly frail.

Shujinko points at this other person in the painting, "Who's this?"

Liu Kang had finished his bowl of rice before turning his attention back to the picture Shujinko stood before. Looking at the other individual, a sense of dread fills Liu Kang. He kinda hoped that Shujinko wouldn't ask about the other individual.

"...An old friend of (the Great) Kung Laos'." Liu Kang says bluntly.

Shujinko felt the finality in his tone and thought it better to leave it alone. He didn't want to resurface more bad memories for the Fire God. Shujinko returns to his place in front of Liu Kang, sitting across from the Fire God and finishing the rest of the tray. Silence falls upon them like a blanket, and soon, Shujinko felt it was time to bid farewell to Liu Kang and perform his other duties. Shujinko cleaned up the area and stacked the emptied bowls together. Just as he was about to stand and leave, he noticed a particular shrine that caught his eye only now.

"What's that?"

Shrines are not uncommon around the Wu Shi Academy. There were plenty of those littered here and there dedicated to other Gods and Elder Gods, both of whom protect Earthrealm and the realms beyond. Shujinko had seen the ones publicly displayed around the Academy, but he had never seen this one before. Based on the imagery, it depicted lightning and a hat, similar to what...Raiden would wear...Hung around the altar.

"Is this shrine dedicated to Raiden?" Shujinko knows that Raiden isn't dead, so this wasn't related to that in the slightest. And Shujinko doesn't dare touch the idea of Liu Kang being...Obsessed...There was a long silence, and Shujinko was starting to grow uncomfortable with the quiet nature Liu Kang was giving him.

"Lord Liu Kang?" Shujinko dares to look at the Fire God, only to see Liu Kang staring at the shrine, deep and lost in his thoughts.

Fuck, he did it again.

"L-lord Liu Kang?"

-

-In a long-dead timeline-

"I have conquered the darkness within me. You must do the same."

"You…Will have to kill me."

"I would rather save you."

In a desperate act to save their timeline and Liu Kang, Raiden made the risky attempt to merge his being and Liu's into one form. Raiden approached the future, revenant Liu Kang, striking him with lightning that encompassed them both as a field of light further obscured them from the naked eye.

…

"Raiden…"

Liu Kang mutters as his eyes shot open. Liu Kang found himself no longer in Kronika's lair nor in the fire gardens where he last remembered being before being taken by Kronika. Instead, he found himself in the zen gardens of the Shaolin temple, no longer ruined by the intruders who came to take the energy capsules containing Earthrealm's life force. In the distance, Liu Kang can hear the muffled sounds of the monks training, the reverberating sound of the gong indicating a set-timed activity, and the cherry blossoms still in full bloom.

Liu Kang mildly panics; has he been sent back in time again? While his friends are fighting against Kronika?

"Liu Kang."

The familiar sound of Raiden's voice twists Liu Kang's head to face the Thunder God. Relief slightly settles him as Liu skips over to Raiden.

"Raiden! Where are we? Has Kronika been defeated? Are we back in our timeline?"

Raiden shakes his head, "No, the battle still continues. As we speak, Kharon is helping our allies to Kronika's fortress, and they are defending his ferries from the Time Keepers' forces who met us halfway."

Liu Kang nods in understanding but looks at the scenery in confusion, gesturing to their new location, "Then why are we here? Shouldn't we be helping our friends, Lord Raiden?"

"…Liu…We need to talk…"

In all his years fighting by Raiden's side, Raiden has never called him 'Liu.' Liu Kang stands at attention, ready to accept what news Raiden intends to tell him. "Yes, Lord Raiden?"

"Your future self, your Revenant self, boarded our ship and attacked us, along with Frost and her cyber Lin Kuei. Despite our brief scuffle, I had no intention of killing you, continuing this vicious cycle that Kronika forced us into."

Raiden takes a moment to let out a shaky breath before continuing, "Your Revenant self is far too blinded by his anger and corruption to be talked down willingly. So…So I'm merging our beings together, so that we may become One."

Liu Kang stares at Raiden in bewilderment. Become One? Such as merging into one individual? One conciousness? Liu Kang couldn't wrap his head around this. "Is that why we're…Here?"

The Thunder God nods, "As we speak, everything that makes us who we are is being united so that we could emerge as a powerful being who would share our prowess, knowledge, and wisdom. I created this subconscious setting so that the information and transformation would be…Easier to process. Do not worry; I intend to transfer my soul to you so that you may benefit from my experiences and power. You will remain intact."

"…But what will happen to you?"

There's a deafening silence, and Liu Kang can already feel the knot of dread becoming tighter. He silently begged that Raiden would not say what he thinks he will say.

"…The process is painless, Liu Ka-"

"Please," Liu Kang raises his hand, stopping Raiden from trying to sugarcoat this situation any further. "Do not speak to me like I am a sheltered child. Give it to me straight, Raiden…"

Raiden could only slowly nod his head, "I don't know…I never had to perform this ever in my lifetimes as a God…Know this, it is not like the perverse necromancy that Shang Tsung often used on his victims, leaving a husk after stealing their souls." Raiden pauses as he ponders how best to continue his thought, "…But from what I could ascertain from previous studies and knowledge from trusted peers…I will…Cease to exist…When I give myself to you, Liu Kang, all that will remain is the changed you. The version of yourself that will be empowered by my being once we have merged."

Liu Kang looks at Raiden in horror. Raiden was…He was willing to essentially kill himself, all for the sake of not only saving him but this timeline. Liu Kang isn't foolish; he knew that trying to stop Kronika was going to cost lives, both his friends, their allies, and even his own. But this...

This felt…Different. This was Raiden giving his life FOR HIM. So that he, his chosen one, would save everyone. And Liu Kang KNOWS that he has to accept this. It was as Raiden taught him; to take every advantage to defeat his enemies and to protect Earthrealm. He was conditioned and trained to bear sacrifices, to make the tough decisions to ensure that Earthrealm would thrive.

Yet…He didn't want this.

Raiden slowly approaches Liu Kang, arms open wide as if he intends to hug Liu Kang. His face grows into a comforting smile, his way of trying to calm Liu Kang. "I assure you, this is for the best, Liu Kang. You'll be elevated to a God with enough power to take on Kronika."

Just as Raiden is about to fully embrace him, Liu Kang flinches away from him. Raiden looks at Liu Kang, confused, before eventually changing to a look of understanding.

"N-no…No, I don't want this! There has to be another way, Raiden! I'm not going to just…Kill you!" Liu Kang says as his breathing hitches.

"You're not killing me, Liu Kang-"

"Then what do you call this!?! How is this not killing you!?! How do you know this isn't part of Kronika's plan, too?" Liu Kang continued to back away from Raiden every time the Thunder God attempted to get closer to him.

"Every timeline I experienced, we FOUGHT, and YOU died, Liu Kang. It was never the other way around. This will not further any agenda that Titan has planned for any of us!"

"HOW. DO. YOU. KNOW!?!" Liu Kang raises his voice, breaking the calm and serenity of the zen garden. "Was it not Kronika's plan to get rid of you? To erase you from her new era to prevent you from interfering with her grand design! How do you know that doing THIS won't give Kronika what she wanted!"

"I DON'T, LIU KANG!" Raiden matches his tone, but there is no crackle of thunder in the distance, no godly boom to his voice or glow to his eyes. "I never knew that letting Kung Lao fight in the tournament instead of you would've resulted in his death. I did not know that the events that would lead to YOUR death would lead to this outcome. I don't know if merging us will actually further Kronika's plans or deaden them! But I have to trust that whatever decision I make, whatever ripple effect this may cause, the outcome will ensure that Earthrealm and its people will be safe, no matter the cost!"

Liu Kang can't stop his eyes from watering as he continues to step away from Raiden. "No…"

"Liu Kang-"

"No! Raiden, please!"

"Liu Kang, you're getting emotional! People are depending on us! ON YOU!" Raiden shouts, still no thunder or godly enhancements to his voice.

"I DON'T WANT TO LOSE YOU, RAIDEN! NOT LIKE THIS! YOU DON'T DESERVE THIS!" Liu Kang cries, his back hitting a wall from his constant evasions from Raiden. His legs grow weak, and he lets himself slide to the ground, trembling and filled with sorrow.

"I don't want to lose you…Not like this! You deserve so much more than that. You held this entire realm together, keeping us safe…Keeping me safe…You shouldn't have to sacrifice more than you already have! Let me merge with YOU! Let us face Kronika as we are together! But please…Please don't ask me to do this…To take your life in this way."

There's a stillness between the two; the ambiance Raiden constructed for this subconscious conversation has long since disappeared, leaving Raiden to listen to Liu Kang's quiet whimpers.

"…Tell me, Liu…What is it that you think I deserve?" Raiden asks softly.

Liu Kang is silent momentarily before responding, "…You deserve to be happy. You deserve to look at the work you've so tirelessly done and rest knowing that Earthrealm will be ok…You deserve…" Liu Kang chuckles before continuing, "You deserve to enjoy your nuclear buffalo wings. You deserve to relax at the saunas you enjoyed so much. You deserve to see the fireworks every new year; I know how much you enjoy reaching the highest point you safely can with Lao and me and watching the colors pop in the sky…"

Raiden listened carefully to Liu Kang's list of things that he felt Raiden deserved, all of them evolving into things that he and Liu Kang had done together that meant a lot to both of them. Liu Kang didn't want to lose the future bond they could have. A future where they were at peace and happy together, even if Raiden's lifespan rivaled Liu Kang's…

But that life just wasn't possible, not under Kronika's rule…But…

Raiden leans down to the sitting Liu Kang, cupping his face in his hand, forcing the monk to look at him. No hint of malice or worry graced Raiden's face, happy as he can be. "Then provide me that future, Liu."

"What?" Liu Kang looks into Raiden's eyes…Only now that he noticed that they were brown…Huh…He never…

"Who knows what will happen once Kronika is defeated. Time might continue as it should, we might be shunted back to our original place in time, we might be stuck sharing this space with our future companions…Or it might all become dust in the wind…But no matter what happens. When Kronika falls, the hourglass will be unoccupied…And we will all have a chance of a better life."

"Raiden, how do you-"

Raiden places his thumb on Liu Kang's lips, quieting him before he could finish his sentence. "I don't know, Liu. I can only trust that whatever we do now, what we accomplish now, will open new doors and possibilities to us later. If we keep worrying about what the future will hold, we lose control of what we can do now."

Raiden steps away from Liu Kang, standing to his full height, and extends his hand for Liu to take. As he looks at Raiden's hand, Liu Kang hesitates, but he gathers his courage and trust in Raiden and takes it. When their hands connected, a steady stream of memories, knowledge, wisdom, and everything that made Raiden who he was flowed into Liu Kang. Liu panics, clutching Raidens' hand tightly and keeping his eyes fixed on his friend.

"It's ok, everything will be ok." Raiden consoles Liu as he helps him back to his feet.

Liu Kang looks at their conjoined hands as his mind also processed the steady flow of information and essence drawing into him. Liu Kang saw the many stories Raiden would tell him when he was younger, all in greater detail than when Raiden described the events. Liu saw their past adventures together when Raiden mentored and cared for him and Lao when they were young. He saw the times they fooled around, enjoying the pleasantries that life offered them as he and Lao showed Raiden souvenirs, took him to events, ate out, and did things outside their monastic training. But most of all, Liu Kang felt what Raiden felt in each of these instances. Liu Kang felt Raiden's fear, confusion, anger, sadness, joy, serenity, hope, pride…and love…

Liu Kang didn't even realize he was shedding tears again until he felt something wet splash on his hand. Then Liu saw something that broke him; he couldn't contain himself further. He saw Raiden's hand fading. His watered eyes met Raiden's, and he saw that Raiden was phasing away like a ghost.

"Raiden…" Liu Kang lightly gasps.

Raiden looks himself over, recognizing that an effect is being placed on him. But he does not panic, maintaining the same calm composure. "It's ok…I'll be fine, Liu."

"Raiden!" Liu Kang surges forward as he brings the Thunder God into a tight embrace, his form still solid enough for them to touch. "I-I'm going to miss you…" Liu Kang wept.

At this point, even Raiden couldn't compose himself any longer. The truth of the matter is that he doesn't know if this will work. Was there perhaps another way this could've been handled? Would merging together even work?

…Will this be his final moment not only as a God but as a living entity?

Raiden didn't know any of this. And that unknown scares him. This could very well be his last moment with Liu Kang, the man he watched grow from an infant to a powerful man. Raiden would never have imagined this could be the last time he would hold Liu Kang this closely. Raiden could not help but quietly shed his own tears as he held Liu Kang just as tight, both of them locked together as he faded away slowly; giving all he was to Liu Kang.

Yet, despite this, Raiden couldn't be more proud of Liu Kang. His pride, love, and hope overpowered any second thoughts or doubts that surfaced and tried to demoralize him. They're going to defeat Kronika; Liu is going to defeat Kronika. Her reign of tyrannical balance will end, and they will become masters of their own fates, not pawns to further the fight between good and evil. And Raiden is confident that Liu Kang will start their new, peaceful era for them, even if he won't be there to see it.

Through shaky breaths and watered eyes, Raiden says his final goodbye, "I'm so proud of you, my son. You have no idea how proud you make me."

Liu Kang smiles through the tears, "I think I have a good idea of how proud you are."

"…Save us, Liu Kang. You were always destined to save Earthrealm, all the realms. And I know that you will stop Kronika."

"I will, Raiden. Kronika will not win." Liu Kang's voice starts to steady, confidence and power swelling within him.

Soon, Raiden's being was no longer tangible, their tight embrace dissolving as Raiden faded away.

"I love you, Raiden," Liu Kang mutters, loud enough for only he and Raiden to hear.

"I love you too, Liu Kang."

…

The battle was won.

Kronika was defeated.

…But at what cost?

Liu Kang, Fire God Liu Kang, stared into the endless cosmos in awe-ful loneliness. Rock formations and asteroids pass him and the rocky platform on which he and the hourglass resided. Cosomic colors paint the starry expanse in beautiful whites, reds, and blues as space dust and burning stars littered the sky. It was all a sight to behold, a once-in-a-lifetime experience…But what's the point in experiencing any of this if there's no one to share it with?

Kronika may have lost the battle, but she still achieved her goal…Somewhat…Time was reversed despite his best efforts to prevent it. He watched firsthand his closest friends backpedaling every second they lived as if a tape was being rewinded. Before he knew it, he was fighting Kronika at times beginning, long before the first man and woman graced the planet, long before the dinosaurs became extinct, and long before the earth would be considered inhabitable.

All that remained was him and the hourglass.

Liu Kang finally comes down from the high of the combat, slowly processing all that has happened. His friends were dead, his family were dead, his timeline was gone…Raiden was gone…Liu Kang perches himself on a rock, slowly curling in on himself as the vacantness around him starts to overwhelm him. Is this his fate? As the chosen hero of Earthrealm? To live alone until his insanity kills him? To reminisce the mistakes he performed and what he could've done to prevent all of this?

"Our work is finished, Liu Kang."

Great…Now, he was going insane by the second…He was already hearing voices…

…Raiden's voice…

Liu Kang dares to check his surroundings, only to be graced with an unusual sight.

"Lord…Raiden?" Liu Kang could not contain his surprise, eyes wide as he stared at Raiden.

"I am merely Raiden, now. You have proven worthy to take my place as the new Protector of Earthrealm once it is restored," Raiden continues nonchalantly as if it was normal for him to still…Be here…

"But…But how?" Liu Kang stands from his place and steps closer to Raiden. "You…I thought…Aren't you supposed to be-"

"Dead?" They both say in unison.

Raiden smiles and nods, "I cannot say why I still remain. That much is a mystery, even to me. I can only guesstimate that perhaps your battle with Kronika and your close contact with the hourglass during the encounter may have recreated me into a mortal shell."

Liu Kang leisurely looks at the hourglass, confusion still plastered on his face.

"Once again, it's only a guess. If anything, it could've been a freak accident, an outcome after your battle with Kronika." Raiden shrugs. This is perhaps the most…Casual, Liu Kang has ever seen Raiden act.

A moment of silence passes them before Liu Kang faces Raiden again. "So, there's a chance that you're not…MY Raiden?"

If this Raiden, this mortal Raiden, was the result of his kombat, then that still meant that the Raiden HE knew was still…Dead.

Raiden doesn't answer right away, mimicking the same ponderous expression that Liu Kang's Raiden would make when trying to find the right words to say. Before long, Raiden would look at Liu Kang, eye to eye, and smile.

"Do you want me to?"

Liu Kang doesn't answer him. Instead, he shares the same smile. Even if this Raiden wasn't HIS Raiden, even if this Raiden WAS his Raiden, his heart still fluttered, knowing that he was here. A familiar face, someone to keep him company. Someone that Liu Kang saved, even if it was just one.

"You honor me, Raiden," Liu Kang respectfully bows to Raiden.

"The honor is mine, Lord Liu Kang," Raiden repeats the same bow, a smile still stapled on his face.

From there, they both remade their timeline and their new era. Oh, if only the story ended there.

Liu Kang learned quickly that he, indeed, was a God. An immortal being incapable of aging. And Raiden was no longer a God himself, aging every year to a mortal grave. A selfish part of Liu Kang wanted to prevent this. He couldn't hold on to the idea that he might get to see his friends again. Kung Lao, Kitana, Sonya Blade, Johnny Cage. So many of those he called his allies would not be born until centuries later, leaving him alone once Raiden died. So, Liu Kang offered Raiden the chance to regain his immortality by attempting the merge again, thinking that they could perhaps, somehow, someway, recreate the events so that Raiden could become the God of Thunder again. Or maybe share their power so that they could be Gods together, protecting Earthrealm under their watchful eye.

Yet, Raiden refused, wanting to keep his mortality and leave the old timeline behind so that the new one may flourish. Liu Kang made sure that Raiden's final moments were comfortable and peaceful. Raiden died surrounded by the new family and friends he made living in Liu Kang's new era.

And although a new Raiden would emerge at some point in his new timeline…Liu Kang was alone again…

-

"Lord Liu Kang?"

Liu Kang jumps out of his skin when Shujinko touches him lightly. The young monk backs away, frightened, even though they have little reason to be.

"I-I'm sorry, Lord Liu Kang! It's just…You were quiet, and I got…Worried."

Liu Kang felt embarrassed and tried to laugh it off, "No, no, Shujinko. I should be the one apologizing. I'm sorry if I startled you. I just…I was pondering on the past for a moment."

"…I'm sorry if I-"

Liu Kang waves his hand and smiles, "No, Shujinko, you didn't do anything to make me uncomfortable or to trigger me. Promise." Liu Kang looks back at the shrine, "That shrine was dedicated to an old friend of mine. He too held the title, Raiden, before the one we know today."

"Wow…What are the chances that there would be two Raidens as well? Did they also possess lightning powers?" Shujinko looks at Liu Kang expectantly.

"No, they did not…But…They did pave the way for that to be a possibility for our Raiden."

-

~Somewhere in California~

Kenshi groans awake as he feels inklings of the sun peering out from the half-closed curtains. Half-naked, Kenshi, through his sight provided by Sento, is greeted with the ceiling of the luxury apartment belonging to Jonathan Carlton, Johnny Cage. Kenshi felt an added weight on the bed he slept on, knowing who was sharing the mattress with him. Despite this, Kenshi twisted his head to drink in the blissfully still-sleeping man beside him, Johnny.

If you told Kenshi that he would end up in the loving arms of a pompous Hollywood star, he would've had you killed for even thinking about it. Even when their relationship evolved from enemies to friends, Kenshi would've thought that was the final step in their relationship. Just being friends. But it all fell into place when...When Kung Lao died. Funny how shared trauma can bring others together...

Before Kung Lao died, Johnny was good friends with Kung Lao. They both had their similarities. They were friends with whom some would consider "the straight man" of their other half. They were both self-confident and prideful of their capabilities. The only thing that seemingly differentiated them was that one was poor while the other was rich. Oh, and the fact that Kung Lao was more disciplined when it came to his fighting prowess compared to Johnny, who was more of a "free-form jazz" type of guy. Although Kung Lao expressed mild annoyance at the actor's Hollywood pride (even Kung Lao wasn't that egotistical), the pair worked off each other pretty well to become good friends.

So when Kung Lao died, besides Raiden, Johnny took his death the hardest. Being perhaps the more foolhardy of the group, even with his years of maturity the more he was asked to help Liu Kang with other realm matters, that moment was when Johnny really "grew up." It's not like he was new to death, the kind of work they did; they have met many instances where they watched people die in front of them or saw corpses in horrendous states. But it was one thing when it was someone you weren't close to or didn't know in general. It's another thing when it's someone you do know and have history with.

After Kung Lao's death, Johnny's coping method was to try to fill in the shoes that Kung Lao had left behind. Kung Lao always had a unique way of lightening the mood compared to what Johnny would do. Where the actor would constantly spill movie references that no one but Johnny understood, Kung Lao knew how to inspire from the heart. And that took skill and experience to pull off, something Johnny wasn't too well versed in. Looking back on it, Kenshi sees them in a more positive light than before. However, he can't say the same for Raiden. When they were still considered the protectors of Earthrealm, Raiden was spiraling into his own self-hatred and grief. With good intentions, Johnny tried to be a friend to Raiden, wanting to reassure Raiden that they had his back...It didn't end well.

Even though they were drifting apart, Johnny's desire to keep their friend group together harmed him more than he thought it was. So when Liu Kang suddenly announced that he would no longer need their services, Johnny quickly took his offer. Now, to the untrained ear, one would think:

"Of course, Johnny Cage dipped out after the going got going! He's an actor who never saw any of the cruelties of the real world because of his wealth!"

Which, in some way, could be the reason. But Kenshi saw something else to Johnny's reason for dipping out. Johnny invested a lot of emotional energy trying to keep their friend group alive. He tried to fill the shoes that Kung Lao left behind, and in the process, he was draining himself as he tried to keep everyone happy while everyone was coping with Lao's death. No longer being obligated to be Earthrealms protector meant that Johnny no longer had to hold onto the tearing strings since they were all going their separate ways.

Their relationship wouldn't blossom until nearly a year and a half ago. Granted, looking back at their previous interactions, perhaps it was fate that they would find solace with each other. Kenshi, with the line of work he involved himself in, had to go into hiding but had nowhere to turn to. Hunkering down with Johnny would've been a foolish thought; he was the exact opposite of discreet. But, because he had to cut back on some expenses, Johnny lived in an apartment building that was a perfect "hiding in plain sight" spot. With Kenshi as his new roommate, Johnny got a bit personal with Kenshi as he was helped dress his wounds. The rest was history as Kenshi found himself kissing Johnny in the heat of the moment. A year and a half later, Kenshi is still in disbelief that they're together still.

While Kenshi would love to admire the sleeping person beside him, he knew he couldn't stay long. He promised Jax he would meet him at a disclosed location to discuss next steps relating to some…Startling news he had discovered. He's careful to slip out of bed without disturbing Johnny, swiftly getting cleaned up and dressed before walking into the kitchen to prepare himself a cup of joe.

"Mmhm. Morning sunshine."

Kenshi nearly jumps out of his skin as he feels strong arms wrap around his waist. He smiles as he cranes his head back to look at Johnny. "Did I wake you?"

"Didn't feel your body keeping me warm, honey. You leaving already?" Johnny says in a husky tone as he nuzzles the blind swordsman.

"Have to. I have an associate who's waiting for me. I might not be able to stay in the states for much longer."

"Again?" Johnny complains in an overexaggerated tone. "How long will you be gone?"

"Don't know, depends on the situation."

This isn't the first time Kenshi and Johnny have been separated for long periods of time, something they were both well accustomed to. Johnny was an actor/director, which means he was constantly traveling to other states and countries for filming. Working for the OIA (Outworld Investigation Agency) and the FBI, Kenshi was traveling the world or realms. Perhaps being the only Earthrealmer who didn't hang up the mantle of being Liu Kang's warrior.

Johnny continues to whine about being alone without Kenshi, even though he'll be alright, playing up his desperation for Kenshi to "stay home" with him. And Kenshi will admit, he can definitely see why he was, and still is, a famous star in Hollywood.

"Can you at least leave me a goodbye gift?" Johnny's fingers start to linger towards Kenshi's waistbelt.

"Johnny," Kenshi chuckles as he moves one of his hands away from his waist, kissing the fingers individually. "I can't right now; I'm going to be late."

"Aw, come on! Just a quicky?"

"No, Johnny."

Cage huffs, but there is no anger hinted there. He just kisses Kenshi's neck and sighs. "Fine. Just come back sooner rather than later, okay? Bed feels empty without ya."

"I bet it does," Kenshi jests.

"I know it does." As Johnny giggles, he glances at the reflection displayed on the microwave mirror and sees…Something moving. A tall, humanoid figure attempting to stealth because it assumes it hasn't been seen.

Just as quickly as Johnny notices this, he quickly grabs a kitchen knife from the knife holder and swiftly throws it at the Intruder. Even with his fast reflexes, they weren't as fast as the unwanted guest grabbed the knife, blade in hand, while their glowing red eyes stayed trained on the couple.

Kenshi, already alerted that something is wrong, calls for Sento to his hand. The magic sword unsheathes itself and flies over to their location. Before reaching Kenshi's hand, with his mystical sight and ability to utilize Sento, even if the weapon is not in his hand, he sharply gestures his one hand in multiple directions in slicing motions. Sento redirects its trajectory as it starts to aim for the home invader. Although the sword was able to get a few good slices in, the individual was fast…Too fast…

"What the hell are you doing in my apartment!?!" Johnny growls as he grabs another knife.

The figure doesn't respond, only growling as it attempts to rush at Johnny and Kenshi. The pair dodged out of the way, and both separated on opposite sides of the person.

"Listen, I'm willing to not press charges AND give you the comfiest dirt nap you'll ever experience IF you tell us what you're doing in my place and why you're attacking us!"

"Something tells me they're not here to talk, Johnny," Kenshi replies as he commands Sento to his hand.

"Ok, dirt nap it is then."

The pair rush the Intruder, hoping to overwhelm them with their combined might. Johnny's theatrical and dirty fighting tactics with Kenshi's samurai-like skills and roughhousing tricks. Yet, even with their combined might, this individual was swift and able to counter almost all their attacks while also producing devastating blows of their own.

Very quickly, Kenshi caught on that this person possessed some superhuman strength. Every punch sent Kenshi and Johnny flying in some instances during the fight. This Intruder also had some cracks in their skin that had a glow to them. Unfortunately, while Sento gave him sight, it didn't provide Kenshi clarity on specific details like colors. However, Johnny could see that this person had ashen gray skin, much like a corpse would look. The supposed "cracks" were actually the outlines of their inner veins, glowing to an unnatural degree.

Another thing, too, is that this guy just would not quit. Their back and forth was eventually tiring Johnny & Kenshi as they missed one too many close calls that would've killed them. But this home invader had stamina for days. Johnny and Kenshi had to resort to going on the defensive as they had to dodge his attacks while waiting for openings.

Johnny is nearly choked out by this creature before grabbing the heated french press on the stove and slamming it against the Intruder's head. Granting the actor time to build some distance.

"Kenshi, I'm gonna need you to think of something and think of it quick because I'm going to be paying for all these expenses that this prick is breaking!" Johnny windily fusses as he lands a one-two punch on the Intruder.

"Get him closer to the living room!" Kenshi says as he provides a helpful block for Johnny, using Sento to slash at the Intruder before they can land a hit on Johnny.

"What?" Johnny looks at Kenshi confused, before taking a punch to the face.

"Just follow my lead!"

Johnny's luxurious apartment was built into a tall skyscraper building. Johnny paid to get a good view of the city he was living in. That meant that his room was exceptionally high up in the building, leading to an estimated 250 ft drop. And Kenshi was getting some sneaking suspicions that this creature could survive all 250 of it.

Kenshi dares to get closer to the Intruder, putting all his might into pushing and fighting this man closer to the living room with an entire glass wall showcasing that good Californian view. Helping him, Johnny also jumped into the fray, along with Sento, as they brought him closer to the glass windows. The Intruder was able to block their attacks, but he was inching toward the glass, and they finally grabbed at Kenshi's throat in a crushing grip.

"You will join us, Takahashi. Our family will gladly welcome you." The Intruder says.

"I'm all for visiting in-laws and relatives, but we're gonna have to decline the invitation to the family barbeque!" Johnny says. And in that exact second, he drops it low and hits the man with the most devastating nutcracker they'll ever experience.

The Intruder makes an audible moan as they double over, covering their private bits. This was enough to get them winded and grant Kenshi enough time to perform a flying roundhouse kick and send the Intruder falling 250 feet back to the lobby.

"Yo, Kenshi! What the hell, man! I didn't think you were going to kill him!?!" Johnny exclaims. "Dude, I live on this floor!?! And it's 10 in the fucking morning! People are going to see, and then the police are going to be called, then what the fuck am I going to do then? I mean, sure, we were fighting in self-defense, I think that guy had the intent to kill us, but I'm a famous star, dickhead! What am I going to tell the press? Fucking A, I can already see it, 'Johnny Cage: Famous Actor, Director, and Killer?' Fucking fuck, Kenshi!"

Despite Johnny's angry rambles, Kenshi paid him no mind as he carefully leaned out the side of the broken window, trying to get a good view of the Intruder and seeing if his prediction was correct.

…The motherfucker got up.

"Johnny, get dressed, we gotta go," Kenshi says in a hurry as he picks up Sento and the sheath it belongs to.

"Wait, what? Were you even hearing me-"

"We don't have time, get dressed!"

"Ok, ok, I am!" Johnny windily says as he rushes to his bedroom. "Fucking hell, what a goddamn mess."

As the pair leave the apartment, Johnny was just getting his best shoes tied, hopping on one leg as he tries to follow the hurried Kenshi. "Wait, Kenshi, what the hell is going on. You're doing that 'I know way more than I let on' schtick that you often do. Did you know that guy?"

"I'll explain once we're far from here. Right now, you're about to meet a good friend of mine."

-

Kenshi bursts through the fire exit door, leading him and Johnny to the back alleyway and away from public notice. Kenshi quickly dials Jax's number, muttering to himself for his partner to pick up the phone (and doing his best to ignore Johnny's constant questioning).

Finally, Briggs's familiar voice on the other line gives Kenshi a sliver of hope that they might be able to escape this soon.

"Kenshi! Where the hell are you? I told you we'd meet 5 minutes ago; what's holding you up?"

"Jackson, we got company and need to get to China. How long for you to get to my location?" Kenshi hurriedly says as he pulls Johnny with him down the alleyway.

"Company? What kind of 'company'?"

"The kind that looks pale and dead."

"And breaks into other peoples' private property!" Johnny unceremoniously chimes in, getting a hissing scold from Kenshi in response.

"Hold up, do you have someone with you, Kenshi?"

"I don't have time to explain! Just meet me at the garage near the Starbucks on 114th Street!" Kenshi then disconnects the call, not wanting Johnny or Jax to further interact, even though it will soon become inevitable.

"Whoa there, You still gotta tell me what this is all about too!" Johnny insisted as he caught up with Kenshi. "Who was that guy, and what's going on?"

"Once we randevu with my associate, then we'll talk."

"And this 'associate' fellow is?"

"I'm more concerned about getting out of here than answering questions right now, Johnny."

Kenshi feels Johnny grab his wrist and force the swordsman to face him. "Johnathan now's not-"

"Then make time, Kenshi! At least give me the SparkNotes version of what's going on!" Johnny growls as he tightens his grip around Kenshi's wrist.

Kenshi feels his spine tingle, hearing Johnny growl his name. While he makes a mental note of that for later, he readjusts his thinking to the matter at hand. Kenshi never really came forward with his line of work with Johnny; he wasn't sure if he could trust the Hollywood actor to keep his mouth shut and not brag about dating an FBI agent.

The swordsman sighs, finally relenting to Johnny's request, "A month ago, when I was in Japan, I was tracking down a notorious gang known as the Jeido Taigā Bando, Jade Tiger Band in English. I was helping my associate track them down because he suspected they were associated with…A far more dangerous crime organization."

"Let me guess, you pissed off the wrong guy, and now they're sending their goons to come after you, right?" Johnny huffs, acting as though he's heard this story before.

"Not really. To keep the story short, what I found when I discovered their base of operations was individuals who I can only classify as…Undead…And they're planning on expanding their ranks by digging up more bodies or adding to the body count to raise more of themselves."

Johnny gives Kenshi a look, letting go of his wrist and crossing his arms. "Ok, so we're dealing with some Night of the Living Dead invasion-type shit? Does Bruce Kang know about this?"

"Not yet. Contacting Liu Kang gets difficult every day that passes, even with Geras serving as his line operator. I was going to report my findings to my associate-"

"It's ok, you can call him Jackson." Johnny was already getting slightly annoyed by the avoidance of names here.

If Kenshi still had eyes, he'd roll them to the back of his skull, "I need to get to him and report what I discovered. Afterwards, I'm going to Liu Kang personally."

"Why not go to Liu right now? A possible zombie invasion sounds like something that should be brought to his attention as soon as possible."

"I still have my obligations to my work, Johnny." Kenshi sighs.

"Work that you still haven't explained to me, Kenshi."

"Later. Let's just meet Jackson before that body catches up with us."

"A little late for that," Johnny looks down the alleyway toward the fire exit from which they came.

Standing at the far end of the alleyway, the undead creature they fought earlier and sent 250 feet back to the lobby glares their red eyes at the pair.

"Fuck me," Kenshi says, exasperated.

Almost on cue, the undead creature rushes at the duo, Johnny and Kenshi getting into a fighting stance. Once the creature was halfway to their position, Johnny was the first to meet them and threw a punch at them. Kenshi draws out Sento and helps Johnny, partaking in the back and forth between them and the monster.

The creature manages to grab at Johnny, clutching his throat in a death grip, before throwing him at Kenshi. Had they been the rivals they were before, Kenshi would've let Johnny fall. And perhaps he should've let Johnny fall, for his attempt to catch Johnny stumbles him in return. The undead creature lunges for Kenshi, their sharp claws countered thanks to Sento's protection. Kenshi quickly gets Johnny back on his feet and grabs the floating hilt of his sword, reengaging with the monster as he puts distance between them and Johnny, giving the actor a moment to recover.

The sounds of steel and hardened claws clashing together fill the air as Kenshi fights off the undead creature. Kenshi misses the monster, feinting him, screaming when he feels its claws dig deep into his skin as it slashes him across his midsection. Johnny comes up behind the undead creature, roundhouse kicking them in the head and sending them to the ground.

"Kenshi!" Johnny attempts to help the wounded Kenshi, only to feel an arm wrap around their neck, stopping him in his tracks.

Johnny grunts as he tries to prevent the undead creature from choking him out or, worse, snapping his neck. The creature's breath can be felt on the side of his face as they darkly chuckle, "You can join your crippled friend with our family if you're that desperate to join him."

Johnny can feel his consciousness slipping, the bastard's grip on him too powerful for him to overcome. Before going under, Johnny's ears ring as he hears the creature holler in pain. In his peripherals, Johnny can see the mystical blade of Sento breaching through the monster's head, right where their left eyeball resided. Johnny uses this time to escape, coughing as he recovers.

Kenshi removes Sento from the creature's head, leaving a slitted hole where the katana once resided. Gathering his strength and swift movements, Kenshi goes for the head again, scalping the creature before jabbing Sento into its brain, the steel running through the organ and the rest of its body before settling within the undead monstrosity's ribcage. Finally, their current nightmare ends as the creature goes limp once again. Removing Sento, Kenshi lets the body flop to the ground, stepping his foot on their neck and ready to behead the monster if it so much as moved another inch.

…It doesn't move.

Kenshi hisses as his still bleeding wound catches up with him, the adrenaline coming down. He leans against the stonewalls that make up the alleyway, breathing heavily as he continues to lose blood.

"Kenshi. Whoa, easy there, I got ya!" Johnny steps to Kenshi's side, holding him up and allowing Kenshi to put his weight on him. Johnny makes a hissing whistle as he helps Kenshi trudge through the alleyway, "They cut ya up pretty good. You think you'll make it to that Starbucks?"

"I'll be," Kenshi huffs between words, "I'll be fine."

"Yeah, you sound 'fine,'" Johnny half-heartedly jests as they reach the main streets. Which only worries Johnny further. With an injured Kenshi, his stardom, and it's still light outside, there will be eyes on them, whether they like it or not. "Ok, Kenshi, Imma need you to pick up your feet once we get out there. The sooner we get to your associate, the better."

Getting into the crowd, the pair make their way through the moving bodies, trying to give as little reason for anyone to take notice of them. Every wayward glance gave Johnny a spike of anxiety as he prayed and hoped that no one would immediately recognize him, even with his rise to popularity as a director. Before they both knew it, they reached their destination. Johnny glanced around, looking for anyone who might be expecting someone.

"Come on, where are they? Hey, Kenshi, what does this Jackson guy look like?"

"Don't need to look far, Mr. Cage."

Johnny twists his head, only to be faced by a tall, perhaps a couple cm off Johnny, dark-skinned individual. "You must be Jackson, right?"

"Right. What happened to him?" Jackson nodded over to Kenshi as he guided them to his vehicle. "Place him in the back; I got a first aid kit he can use."

"We had some company slow us down," Johnny opens the back car door, helping Kenshi into the car before helping himself to riding shotgun.

Kenshi didn't need to ask where Jackson kept his first aid kit, which was always in a hidden compartment inside the middle seat. He takes out all the necessary items to thread himself back together. However, the work was slightly sloppy, thanks to the moving vehicle.

"So, when were you going to tell me you were close to a Hollywood star?"

"What? So that you can pester me for an autograph?" Kenshi hisses as he runs the needle and thread through his skin.

"Aw, Kenshi. To deprive a fan of mine a chance to have a personal trinket with my name on it from yours truly is the most heinous thing of you to do," Johnny voiced.

"And I'm certain there's a special place in Hell for me for that." Kenshi jests back with Johnny before adjusting his mind to the reason he needed to speak with Jackson to begin with. "I found the Jade Tiger Band. They were all dead when I discovered where they were headquartered."

"Dead? All of them?" Jackson's eyebrows raise as he occasionally glances at Kenshi's reflection in the rearview mirror.

"All that remained of them was bodies. But…There are more concerning things about this situation. I saw the cargo with the Black Dragon's symbol printed on them, so they aligned with the organization. How deep, I don't know. But while there, when I discovered the bodies, the building was almost repurposed in a…cult-like fashion. I saw, firsthand, bodies being given life under the control of some puppet master."

If it wasn't for the fact that Jackson not only worked for the FBI but also the OIA, Kenshi's certain that everything that he just said would have him laughed out of the vehicle or into a mental institute. There's a moment of silence as Jackson takes a moment to process what Kenshi relayed.

"This job just gets stranger and stranger. Do you think the Black Dragon is behind these…Bodies coming back from the dead?"

"I don't think so, Jax. The attire these individuals wore was not Black Dragon material. Then again, the Black Dragons are not known for being uniformed. But the many times we tailed them, sorcery was never on their resume." Kenshi groans his final sentence as he starts wrapping himself up in cloth and medical alcohol.

"Do you think that sorcerer fella might be involved?" Jax questions.

"Shang Tsung?" Johnny chimes in.

"You know him?" Jax gives Johnny a quick look.

"Oh, not only do I know him, but Kenshi and I beat that bastard into prison and saved the world from a universe collapse. How else do you think I got the inspiration for MORTAL KOMBAT: CHAMPIONS OF TIME?"

Thanks to the fact that they stopped at a long red light, Jackson couldn't help but look at Johnny & Kenshi in disbelief. This isn't the first time Jax has had this revelation given to him. How else would the Outworld Investigation Agency exist without him?

"You know, if it weren't for Kenshi breaking the news to me before about your involvement in this whole…Circus fuckery, I wouldn't have believed that YOU, Mr. Cage, experienced this crazy shit first hand."

"Please, you can call me Johnny. No need for formalities."

"Back to the matter at hand," Kenshi interjects. "I believe that Shang Tsung might be behind this entire operation. I don't think he's working closely with the Black Dragon, but I wouldn't be surprised if they're somehow connected."

"And what makes you think that Shang Tsung might be involved?" Johnny takes his turn to look in the backseat where Kenshi sat.

"The magic used to bring these creatures back looked similar to how Shang utilizes his own sorcery. That, and it was green. And aside from Quan Chi, I don't know anyone else whose magic gives off a green color." Kenshi explains.

"Wait, who's Quan-"

"I'll tell you about him later, Jax." Kenshi interrupts. "Right now, there's a possible chance that Shang Tsung is causing dead people to come back from the grave, and the Black Dragon is possibly involved."

"Well, we can't work on chances and possibilities. If they're truly operating together, we will need concrete proof. People coming back from the dead might not be enough to get the higher-ups to look deeper into this, especially since they're still wrapping their heads around what is and is not possible with these supernatural occurrences." said Jax.

They arrived at a motel that was discreet enough, and Jax pulled the vehicle into an available parking space under a shaded tree.

"I know, But maybe this will be enough to prove my suspicions. The Jeido Taigā may have been compromised and most of their members dead, but I was able to pinpoint where their next point of operation may be. Got it off a dying Taigā and convinced them I was one of them. They're right in our front yard, hoping to make a transaction somewhere in San Jose."

"Well, what a coincidence, because our inside gal reported to us not too long ago about a trade happening in San Jose, right in an abandoned warehouse," Jax smirks as he trains his eyes back at Kenshi through the rearview mirror.

"Great! Then all we gotta do is bust the bad guys, kick Shang Tsungs ass, and the day is saved!" Johnny rubs his hands in anticipation.

"Um, I'm sorry, 'we'?" Jax gives Johnny a look.

"Johnny, can we talk for a minute?" Kenshi gives Johnny's shoulder a firm squeeze before exiting the car, hissing in pain as his freshly patched-up wounds send signals of pain to him.

"Oh, boy, here we go," Johnny mumbles, exiting the car with Kenshi.

Jax follows suit, closing the driver's door. "I already got us a room, when you need to sit it out for a minute," Jax gestures to Kenshi and where his wound was, "We're in room 118."

Kenshi nods as he walks closer to the tree that provided them shade from the beaming sun above. He crosses his arms, looking directly in the direction where Johnny is.

"Ok, what did I do?"

"Nothing, Johnny."

"Ok, but you're giving me your 'serious Kenshi' face. You look like this, right now," in which Johnny gives Kenshi an overly exaggerated pouty look.

Unfortunately for Johnny, Kenshi wasn't in the mood to entertain the actor. "You're not coming with us."

"What? Why not? Didn't you just say that Shang Tsung could be behind this weird Undead invasion thing? That silver-tongued bastard is my business too, Kenshi."

"I said no, Johnny."

"Is this because I renounced my standing as one of Earthrealm's protectors?"

"No, Johnny, I-"

"Because if it is, I now renounce my renouncement as one of Earthrealm's protectors. I can help Kenshi, anything involving Shang Tsung is bad news, and I'd be damned if-"

"This isn't about that, it's something completely different." Kenshi can already feel his annoyance with Cage brewing.

"How different is this? Didn't Liu Kang set you up with this job?"

"No, he didn't. Why do you think I need to get to China?"

"Wait, then what's this all about if Liu Kang doesn't know about this?" Johnny looks at Kenshi, confused.

At this point, Kenshi just had enough. He prays to whoever would listen that Johnny wouldn't make such a fuss about this and pulls his boyfriend closer. Then and there, Kenshi finally came forward about his association with the FBI and OIA (Outer World Investigation Agency) to Johnny. He still left some details out, only giving the essentials of what his job entailed. Johnny looks at Kenshi amazed before a huge smile crosses his face.

"Well, I'll be damned! I didn't know I had 007 as a boyfriend as well."

"Johnathan, this is serious!"

"Kenshi, don't worry! I'm not going to tell; I'm not that irresponsible. Even I have secrets I prefer others didn't know too. Plus, I'm an actor; my secrets are all I have now." Johnny gives Kenshi a reassuring peck on the cheek to prove his loyalty.

"I mean it, Cage." Kenshi huffs, though the bubbling tension does soothe inside him.

"Cross my heart, hope to die; you can stick Sento in my eye if I so much as even BREATHE about you being FBI." Johnny places one final reassuring kiss, this time on Kenshi's temple, before squeezing the swordsman closer to him.

As stern as Kenshi tries to make himself look, he can't help but twitch a smile here and there. Johnny always knew how to break his rugged guy visage.

"So, now that the beans have been spilled, that means I can help, ri-"

Immediately, Kenshi frowns again, "No."

"Wha-come on!" Johnny complains, his tone a bit too loud.

"Even if I wanted to bring you along, your face will get us into trouble. You're an actor, for crying out loud, and a recognizable one, too. And I can't just thrust you into my job. By all standards, you're a civilian and not authorized to meddle in FBI business; it doesn't matter if you fought creatures from Outworld or in Chaosrealm. I can't just bring you along, Johnathan."

Johnny opens and closes his mouth as if to protest further, but he can only groan. "Ok, fine, but if Shang Tsung is really behind this, a possible zombie apocalypse should be enough to warrant Liu Kang's attention."

"I know, Cage. That's why I'm-"

"No, no, no. That's why I'M going to China."

It was now Kenshi's turn to be speechless. "Johnny…No, no, I don't want you involved."

"Kenshi, I'm gonna level with you now. This is me leveling with you. I can handle myself. We went through hell and back, fighting impossible creatures and beating up scary bad guys. You KNOW I can fight. You KNOW I can handle this. If you're a secret agent, you need to be with your people. The longer Liu Kang is out of the loop, the less prepared our other allies will be. Not only that, but your insight will prove useful to these peeps who know next to nothing about that cunty sorcerer. Let me go in your place, I'll let Liu Kang know."

Kenshi wants to argue, but a part of himself can't really dispute Johnny's claims. Kenshi can't be in two places at once, and if Johnny is going to be this insistent in helping, he might as well let him run as a messenger boy…

Kenshi gives Johnny the silent treatment, not responding to Johnny trying to get a word out of the swordsman. Kenshi rummages through his head about how he can break the news to Johnny and how much he's willing to give up to the actor. Before long, Kenshi ultimately decides that the truth is a better alternative. Because, eventually, they're all going to know.

"Ok…Go to China, find the Academy, and tell Liu Kang what you know."

Johnny nods, heavily resisting the urge to fist-pump the air in victory like a child. "I will. I can book a flight as soon as today and get a ticket to Shanghai-"

"You'll need a ticket to Guangzhou," Kenshi corrected.

"Right, Guangzhou. I'll get the ticket, fly out of here, and I'll tell Liu Kang to get off his ass and help us out. Who knows, this might be another bastard from another timeline trying to conquer ours for all we care."

"…I don't think that's the case," Kenshi mumbled, but Johnny still heard what he said.

"Why do you say that?"

“…Because I saw Kung Lao…Our Kung Lao.”

If Johnny wasn't serious then, the revelation about Kung Lao silences Johnny. He keeps searching Kenshi's face as if to see if the blind swordsman is joking or pulling some cruel prank. And it frightens him that he finds none in Kenshi.

"What do you mean you saw Kung Lao? Like, you saw his body just walking about?"

"Yes."

"Yes!?! That's all you have to say about that?" Johnny couldn't hold in his frustration and fear.

"What the fuck else am I supposed to say about that! Kung Lao's body is walking around somewhere out there. That's why I wanted to reach Liu Kang after reporting back to Jax."

"I mean," Johnny pinches the bridge of his nose as he paces in place, "Did you at least check his grave? You know, to see if it was tampered with?"

"I can't. And you know why I can't."

When Liu Kang returned Raiden to Fengjian, he didn't explicitly say that they were forbidden from seeing their amnesiac friend. However, it was an unspoken rule amongst those who knew what happened that they shouldn't meet with Raiden anymore. Liu Kang clearly wanted Raiden disassociated from everything that they were, and continued association could rip open old wounds best left to the natural healing forces of time.

Johnny nods in mutual understanding before letting out a shaky sigh. "Ok, then this is big time urgent. I'll get to Liu as fast as possible."

"I'll drive you to the nearest airport once you have your ticket," Kenshi says. "...And don't bother Raiden, Johnny."

"I know...I know," Johnny mutters, rubbing the back of his head. "I guess this is the part where we..."

"Yeah...I actually need someplace to lay down anyways," Kenshi purposefully leans against Johnny, forcing the actor to support his weight as they walk toward their motel room.

In the secrecy of their motel room, Kenshi further briefed Jax on what he learned tracking down the Jade Tiger Band while Johnny booked his flight. Of course, because he was trying to leave TODAY, they had to rush to get him to the airport when Johnny got a ticket. Navigating the building was a nightmare, filled to the brim with an overly anxious crowd trying to get their flight and woefully understaffed. In a small way, it made Kenshi somewhat appreciative that Johnny decided to take his place to inform Liu Kang rather than going himself.

As they both wait at the gate, Kenshi digs in his pocket and hands Johnny a keychain in the shape of a Japanese symbol, "Here. Got this for you while I was away." In all honesty, Kenshi had gotten the item a year ago, but he had completely forgotten that he still had it in his pants. Better now than never, he supposes.

Johnny gasps as he takes the trinket, fiddling with it around his fingers, "Sick!" Johnny examines the keychain further, the gears turning in his head for a moment. "運...That means Luck, right?"

Kenshi couldn't help but smile, "You've been paying attention, I see."

"Aw, don't be too proud of me yet, babe. I've been lacking on my Japanese, thanks to the meetings I've been going to about my next upcoming movie. Which is going to be put on a definite hold if this is as bad as you make it out to be." Johnny leans closer to the swordsman, resting his head on his shoulder.

"How about this? Try saying a full sentence in Japanese for me," Kenshi shifts his head to lightly rest on Johnny while giving him an inkling of a teasing message.

The actor is quiet momentarily before responding to Kenshi's subtle dare. "At least I'll have a good idea of what you are saying while you're fucking my brains out against the headboard."

Kenshi chokes on nothing as he looked at Johnny, embarrassed. "Johnathan!"

"Pretty good, huh?" Johnny snickers.

"W-well, at least you can make out perfect sentences, I suppose."

"Like I said, don't go congratulating me just yet. Second I have another vay-cay in Japan, I'll still be acting like a fish out of water. The best I can do is read the language now."

"That's still an improvement. I'm proud of you nonetheless," Kenshi gives Johnny a kiss on the head.

The moment is ruined when Johnny peeks at his watch and curses under his breath. "My flight is going to take off in a moment." Johnny stands to his feet, leaning down to take any luggage, only to remember that he barely packed anything, just the clothes off his back. It's not like they could return to the apartment after what happened with that undead guy.

"I'll, um, text or call ya once I'm in China." Johnny gives Kenshi a reassuring glance.

Kenshi stands with Johnny and gives him a firm grip on his shoulder, "Be careful out there."

Johnny would've quipped about how others should be careful around HIM. Still, with the startling news about Kung Lao's return and the whole undead business, Johnny holds his tongue. Instead, he softly takes Kenshi's gripping hand and squeezes it. "I will."

The pair part ways, Kenshi watching Johnny board his plane and take off before heading out of the airport. Now, to see if Shang Tsung and the Black Dragon are truly shaking hands & making friends.

-

~A Week Later~

He's going insane.

Ever since he left Kung Lao's house, Raiden could not shake the unnerving feeling that he was being watched. Everywhere he went, Raiden felt that there were eyes on him, even in the safety of his own home. Raiden had become more restless; he could barely keep his eyes open as he sat at the family dinner table. He doesn't even hear his mother calling for him until she finally touches his shoulder.

Raiden nearly jumped out of his skin as he snapped his head toward his mother, "Y-yes?"

His mother doesn't say anything, and her concern about what she wants to say is clearly apparent. Raiden tries to resist the urge to rub his eyes, instead opting to just blinking his tiredness away. "Um, was-was there something you needed, mom?"

"...You need rest, dear..."

Any other day, Raiden would downplay those concerns. No, he's not tired. No, he's just fine. No, he's feeling alright. But Raiden doesn't argue this point with his mother. A pang of building guilt fills Raiden as he simply nods, removing himself from the table and walking back to his room. Raiden shuts the door behind him as he sits on his bed, face in his palms as he wallows in self-pity.

Since leaving Kung Lao's house, Raiden has been getting worse. He wasn't getting sleep; he felt as though someone was watching him; he'd been hearing voices, his dreams had been waking him up in the middle of the night, frightened and sweating, and he was losing further grip on his powers. It's almost as if he's been cursed after entering Kung Lao's house. And while Raiden doesn't want to entertain that idea, he can't shake the feeling that he is. Every shadow Raiden was weary of. A soft breeze sends shivers down his spine as his mind believes someone was talking to him. The thunder wielder dreaded the comfort of his own bed, for he would have to anticipate a horribly realistic nightmare or stay awake, watching every dark corner and staring out his window, waiting for something or someone to come for him until his body finally forced him to sleep.

Raiden slides his hands off his tired face as he glances at his bedroom window. It was early in the morning, too early for anyone to still be asleep, lest they intend to sleep in. Raiden knows he should rest his fatigued body; going to work or doing anything while in this state will be a detriment to everyone and himself. But his pride in contributing to his community nagged at him at his very core. He shouldn't be wasting his time in bed, regardless of how tired he was. In a huff, Raiden readjusted himself, getting ready to leave the house. But he stops when he reaches for his bedroom door. His parents and sister won't let him vacate the house in his condition.

Raiden never had to sneak out of the house in his life, ever. That was always a Kung Lao thing. He remembers his best friend often knocking on his window to be let in like a misplaced puppy. Raiden almost wants to smile as he recalls how every time Lao would come around unannounced, it would always give Raiden a heart attack. Raiden backs away from his bedroom door, inching toward his window and opening it up so that he may exit through there. Raiden's careful to avoid the various other openings of his house that could expose him before making his way over to the Farm so that he may put in some work for the day. Of course, after he picks up an energy drink from the closest convenience store.

But even with a boost in vigor, it would not stop the ongoing protest Raiden's body would give him about his waning spirit. All throughout the day, Raiden was getting slower and slower, and he was constantly shaken awake by his co-workers. Raiden was able to make it through the morning and mid-afternoon of working, and the second he had that moment of brevity, he found the nearest tree to rest his head and knocked himself out.

When Raiden woke up, it was already late in the evening. Raiden curses under his breath, pulling out his phone as he realizes that the alarm he set for himself failed to wake him up. It was already inching dangerously close to 6 at night, and his family most likely knew that he was out of the house by now. Raiden quickly gathered himself, hoping to make it home before they attempted to knock on his door to call him down for dinner.

The nightlife of Fengjian is usually quiet, except for the few who decide to have a night out drinking to celebrate small pleasures. Still, there are few places to drink, lest you do so at your residency or the teahouse. Yet despite this, tonight was exceptionally quiet aside from the buzzing and chirping sounds of nocturnal insects. Raiden power walked through the empty streets, only to slow down considerably. Raiden slowly turns his head, trying to seemingly appear as though he's just taking in his surroundings or deciding his next step. He cranes his head just enough to get the peripheral sighting of the roofs, and he feels his spine shiver; someone was watching him from above. He couldn't see WHO or WHAT, but he saw a shadowed figure.

Raiden continued his walk but consciously chose to go in the opposite direction of his house. He's careful to not give away that he's aware he's being followed, attuning his ears sharply to the subtle movements of his stalker. Raiden searched his mind rapidly as he sought for a quick getaway. Because his stalker is watching him from above, anywhere he went, they would see. Raiden hesitated at the idea of having to lash out at the one trailing him, not wanting to place permanent harm or, better yet, accidentally killing them. But then again, as insane as stalking someone may be, no one would be crazy enough to tail behind someone via rooftops.

Fengjian wasn't busy once night fell; everyone was in their homes enjoying the day's final moments. Raiden couldn't blend into a crowd or seek someone out in hopes of asking for their protection. Ultimately, Raiden decides that utilizing his powers would be the better alternative. Raiden stops in his tracks, playing off the illusion that he's determining where he should go. Raiden notices a puddle spill that reflects the night sky above and the gibbous moon that shines in the heavens. Closely examining it with his eyes, he got a slightly good look at where his stalker was positioned.

In one swift movement, Raiden spins on his heels and unleashes a rope of lightning toward his stalker. The individual seemed to have anticipated that Raiden would attempt an attack. Still, they were not fast enough to dodge his attack, quickly getting stunned by the lightning that wrapped itself around their waist. Mustering all the strength Raiden had, he pulled the person off the roof, crashing onto the ground while being electrocuted. Raiden releases his hold on this person and books it in the other direction, not taking a second more to interrogate or even get the face of the stalker. He dashes through tight alleyways, jumping over fences and taking routes that would get him back on track to reaching home before slamming himself against the side of a building. Raiden takes a moment to breathe, hoping he had outran his stalker. Raiden almost wanted to slide off the wall and sit on the dirt below, but his blood ran cold when he heard the distinct sound of footsteps rapidly approaching him.

Without even thinking, Raiden hoofs it. Ducking into alleyways, hopping from fence to fence, taking shortcuts and passageways that he was highly familiar with, anything to get away from whoever was chasing him. However, Fengjian is no city or large town, and Raiden had few opportunities to shake this person off him. He considered flying away but flying required that he use his lightning to elevate him, which could cause unneeded damage and attention. Like before, Raiden finds himself in a situation where he must throw fists.

Raiden purposefully "traps" himself, placing himself in a "tight space" but just enough opportunity for Raiden to fly or teleport away should he need to. He turns on his heels, facing whoever's chasing him as electricity encompasses him. "Come any closer, and I will use lethal force!" Raiden threatens, his eyes and hair glowing white.

The person following him was shrouded in shadows, the distance and darkness of the night concealing their appearance from Raiden. They stop in their tracks at the other end of the open passageway, blocking Raiden's "only" escape. All Raiden could ascertain about his stalker was that they had…Glowing red eyes… That's not natural. Even more unsettling are the dimly lit cracks in this individual's visible skin; their arms lined with red scars. The person stares at Raiden before walking closer to the thunder wielder. Raiden empowers himself with the energies of the amulet infused to his person, static filling the air as he creates an aura of electricity.

"I said, stay back!" Raiden growls, his hair and eyes now glowing brighter than before.

"You really don't remember me, Raiden?"

…That voice…

Raiden's face softens a little, his defensive stance faltering. He examines the person approaching him, still unable to fully discern who was talking to him. But that voice, it sounds eerily familiar. Raiden watched as the individual stepped closer to him. And as they approached, Raiden was able to pick off distinct features about them. The heart-shaped face, the hat, the dimples as they smile…The piercings…

The static bouncing around Raiden provides a little extra light along with the shining moon above. And when this person stops their gait in front of Raiden a safe distance from his electrifying aura, it's almost as if the world had stopped around them. Raiden loses the stance he had before, standing straight, and his expression changes into a state of unbelievable shock. The static slowly disperses as Raiden loses the need to fight.

"…Lao…" That's all Raiden could utter.

Kung Lao's smile wides upon Raiden's soft comment, his skin crawling as he hears his friend's lips speak his name. "Hello, Raiden. Missed me?"

His smug grin, his cocky mannerisms, his voice…Raiden almost wants to believe that he's still dreaming. "…You…They-I…They told me you were-"

"Dead?" Kung Lao interrupts Raiden, tilting his head to the side slightly.

"…Yes…" Once again, all Raiden could say were simple words and maybe scattered sentences if his brain could cooperate with him.

Kung Lao laughs, but it's strained, as though he has a terribly sore throat. "Well, do I look dead to you?"

"…They told me…" Raiden mutters to himself.

Kung Lao dares to step closer, and Raiden backs away from his returned friend, pinning himself against the wall behind him. Kung Lao notices this, his face growing sinister while still keeping that smile plastered on his face.

"Come now, Raiden. No hug? A welcome home kiss?"

Like a deer in headlights, Raiden remains stuck with his back against the wall. This shouldn't be possible. They said Kung Lao was dead! He visited his gravestone! His fucking gravestone!! His house was abandoned! Everyone in Fengjian KNOWS that Kung Lao was deceased! Every fiber of his being was screaming how something wasn't right with this scenario. That he should be running or fighting this imposter. His mind flips through every excuse in the book on how this isn't Kung Lao. That someone was impersonating Kung Lao just to antagonize him. Or that he was genuinely hallucinating, somehow seeing ghosts. As Raiden's brain continued to fry, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for water, Kung Lao was now face to face with his friend.

Lao frowns as though disappointed that Raiden hasn't done some expected action. "…Do you not remember me, Ray?" A hint of fear is sprinkled in his surprisingly saddened tone. Kung Lao lifts his hand slowly, reaching for Raiden's face until he was cupping his cheek.

Kung Lao was dead. He visited his grave-his abandoned house. His family told him how Kung Lao died; they had no reason to lie to him. Yet, when Lao touched him, when Raiden got to feel his…Cold hand…Gracing his face, Raiden melted under his touch. All his confusion and shock burned away. As though he finally found the missing piece to this jigsaw puzzle of a predicament. Raiden's eyes flutter shut, leaning into Kung Lao's hand. It felt right, even though Raiden couldn't entirely place why that was the case.

"So you do remember," Kung Lao's smile slowly returns, his thumb rubbing Raiden's cheek.

Raiden opens his eyes, looking into Kung Lao's… They're red…His eyes were never red. His skin was deadly pale compared to the sun-beaten tan that he once had. The many angry cracks on his person warranted Raiden's attention as he brushed his fingers over the red lacerations and scars. His mind wonders of their origin. They were…Supposedly…Martial arts teachers. What could've possibly happened that would have caused these wounds? It was now Kung Lao's turn to lean into Raiden's touch, making subtle hums with each curious touch Raiden graced him. This probably would've been enough to recenter Raiden, but what grabs his attention is Kung Lao's neck. A glaring (and glowing) scar indicates that he was slashed in that area. His family has told him the cause of Lao's death; a clean cut to his neck due to an accident with some equipment that malfunctioned. Yet, when Raiden touches the old wound and stares at Lao's neck, he cannot help but feel a hidden truth behind the scar.

"…Raiden…"

The thunder wielder shoots his eyes up, looking at Kung Lao. Did he say something? From the looks of it, Kung Lao was still enraptured by Raiden's touch, continuously leaning into him like a touch-starved cat. The voice surely didn't sound like Lao either. Another mystery for another day, it seems.

Kung Lao draws a hum from his damaged throat as he flutters his eyes open, "I've missed this. We've been separated for so long, I've forgotten how good it feels to be near you again. To feel you again."

The pair meet eye to eye again, lost in each other as foreign feelings resurface again. Raiden has always viewed their relationship as just platonic. That's how its always been. They grew up together, fought together, teased and jested for as long as he could remember. Raiden likes to believe that Kung Lao may have felt the same, that there was nothing more to their friendship than that.

Yet, his heart skips a beat when he looks at Kung Lao. He can feel his skin tingle, the innate desire to be closer to Kung Lao than they were right now. He wanted to hug him until their bodies melded into one, to run his hands through his half-buzzed hair until it was in complete disrepair. Raiden wanted to intertwine his hands into Lao's, clutching him tight so they could never be separated again; his eyes would never leave Lao's being if he could help it. And a part of Raiden wanted to explain these feelings away as just being ecstatic seeing Lao again, someone he has long believed was dead. Yet, Raiden knew deep down there was something more to this than shared amity.

And Lao would be the first to confirm this fact to Raiden. Kung Lao's eyes kept glancing at Raiden's lips, still soft and plump despite the horrors they both experienced. He slowly closed the small gap that separated them, planting a tender kiss on Raiden. Under any other circumstances, Raiden would've made a startled noise. This is the first time in Raiden's known memory that Kung Lao kissed him with such care and passion. Yet, whether or not this was their first kiss was irrelevant to Raiden. This felt familiar, standard, as if he should've already known to accept such an exchange from Kung Lao. Raiden finds himself giving into the motions, his hands snaking over Kung Lao's shoulders as he uses him to keep himself up and to further lock them in this moment.

Raiden wasn't sure what spurred Kung Lao on, but a muffled growl was heard from the other man, and Raiden finally emitted that startled noise when he felt Lao's hands move from his waist to his ass. The pair separate, Kung Lao being the one out of breath despite the kiss not being that deep or filthy (for lack of better words). However, Kung Lao wasn't as red in the cheeks as Raiden was. He whimpers as Kung Lao's grip tightens, and he presses his body closer to the thunder wielder.

"L-Lao-mph!"

Raiden didn't get a chance to say anything else, for Kung Lao was again on his lips. Eagerly assaulting his lips, trying to breach into Raiden's mouth. Raiden tries to keep up with Lao, reciprocating as much as he could with his limited experience. Yet, when Kung Lao started sucking and biting his lower lips, that's where Raiden left himself vulnerable.

"L-Lao!" Raiden gasped, clinging onto Kung Lao as his friend grew increasingly ravenous.

The moment Raiden opened his mouth, Kung Lao deepened the kiss, forcing his tongue into Raiden's mouth; familiar territory for the Shaolin Monk, new grounds for the thunder wielder. Raiden moans into the kiss, his body feeling weighted down and his vision going blurry from the new sensation. The feeling of Kung Lao exploring his mouth, battling his submissive tongue with his own, his hands now possessively grabbing at his ass. Raiden gave in to Kung Lao, his body slowly growing limp as he allowed his friend to do whatever he pleased. He was being consumed, almost fitting, considering that his friend had come back from the dead. He was the first body that Kung Lao found upon his resurface, and he was going to devour Raiden, body and soul. And Raiden would let him if Kung Lao demanded it.

Raiden was increasingly losing air, having become breathless from Kung Lao's need to keep his lips on Raidens'. Slowly, Raiden was falling out of Kung Lao's spell on him, his desire to breathe becoming more of a voice of reason. Raiden pulls on Lao's clothes, which were surprisingly more like armor than typical clothing. He actually had to grasp at Kung Lao's hair and rip him off, a trail of saliva bridged between them. Raiden was now the one breathless, cheeks still red as cherries, eyes needing a moment to refocus. Hell, he had to rewire his brain to focus on the matter at hand. Kung Lao makes another growl upon being separated from Raiden, though this one was more…Angry than lustful. Kung Lao tries to go in for another kiss, his hands now gripping at Raiden's clothes as if wanting to remove them or tear them off, for that matter.

"Lao, Lao, wait, stop!" Raiden prevents Kung Lao from placing another suffocating kiss on him, making his tone clear that he wanted no more (for now, that is). Raiden would have to make his point even more evident as he firmly separates himself from Kung Lao, stopping Lao from even tearing off his clothes.

"How are you alive? You're supposed to be dead. They told me you died," Raiden quickly puts his concerns out there for Kung Lao to process.

This actually seems to have centered Kung Lao. His eyes, dark with anger, lust, and intent, dissolve into realization, and his features soften just a little. "…Right…What did 'they' tell you, hm? How did my death go down in history?"

Quite bold of him to phrase it like that. Then again, Raiden always knew that Kung Lao had an ego about him. Raiden ponders how he should break the news to him, unsure how much he can tell Kung Lao, before finally deciding that the truth would be better than concealing any information.

"You…You died because some equipment back in the U.S. malfunctioned…It got you in…" Raiden does his best to not look at Kung Lao's neck, keeping his eyes straight at Lao's eyes. "…The cause of death was a deep laceration to the neck…You died before you could make it to the hospital… That's… That's what my folks told me."

Kung Lao looked at Raiden in a subtle display of shock. If there was a chair, Raiden was sure Kung Lao would need it. Kung Lao's eyes slowly darted this way and that as if he were in deep thought, processing what he had learned.

Then he started…Smiling…Then he started laughing.

"So that hellish witch was right after all," Kung Lao quietly seethed, his hands balling into tight fists.

Raiden wasn't able to hear him, but he could imagine that this was…Much for Lao. "…Lao, I…This is probably a lot to take in, but there was a tombstone and funeral for you. Everyone in Fengjian thought you were dead. I thought you were-"

"Of course, you believed me dead! You were there to see it!" Kung Lao snaps at Raiden, his eyes glowing an angry red. "I died in your arms! The last thing I felt was you shaking my body while I was bleeding out on the dirt! AND YOU DID NOTHING! NOTHING BUT CRY LIKE THE WEAK BITCH YOU ARE!"

The last phrase caught Raiden off guard. Understandably, Kung Lao is confused and upset; this is a lot for him to take in. But that final line…That was…Unnecessary. Raiden pushes it to the side, building his sympathy as he responds calmly.

"I…I don't remember exactly what happened, Lao. It…It probably happened so fast. But, you're here now, and we can…We can help each other. My parents and Fuji would be happy to see you again. You can come with me back-"

"SHUT UP!"

Suddenly, Kung Lao's fist slams against the walled surface behind Raiden, dangerously close to Raiden's skull, as the wall behind Raiden makes a fist-sized crater from the force of Lao's punch. This truly scared Raiden, silencing the thunder wielder as he felt a pocket of uneasiness build within.

"I don't want your sympathy OR your useless offerings! Not when you left me to die because you were too weak-willed to save me! AFTER ALL I SACRIFICED FOR YOU! AFTER ALL THESE YEARS, I REMAINED IN YOUR SHADOW, 'CHAMPION OF EARTHREALM'! I PLAYED MY PART, SUPPORTED YOU, AND WHAT DID I GET IN RETURN? A BIG, FUCK-OFF HORNED BASTARD SLASHING MY NECK, AND YOU DOING NOTHING TO SAVE ME IN RETURN! YOU DIDN'T EVEN KILL THAT MOTHERFUCKER WHEN YOU HAD THE CHANCE!! NO, YOU WANTED TO KEEP TO YOUR FOOLISH MORALS AND PLAY THE GOODY-TWO-SHOED ROLE! OR, BETTER YET, YOU WERE PROBABLY GLAD YOU WERE FINALLY RID OF ME! I GUESS SECOND BEST WASN'T GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU, HUH?"

Each sentence was further pronounced as Kung Lao made violent movements, hitting the walled surfaces around them. Never hitting Raiden, but the intent was there. Each swing forced a flinch from the thunder wielder as he expected Kung Lao to lash out at him. Under any other circumstance, IF Kung Lao were to attempt to hit him, Raiden could block a punch or kick. But…But this felt different. This wasn't the usual friendly sparring the pair once indulged in; should Kung Lao decide to, these throws could seriously injure Raiden…Kill him even…

"Oh, yes, I bet you were soo happy that I was finally out of the picture, Mr. Champion," Kung Lao jeered venomously. "I bet you felt relieved knowing you didn't have to play pretend to keep me happy. No longer had to play the annoyingly humble Raiden part once I was gone now that you had Liu Kang's undivided attention. And I can tell, don't try lying to me. That kiss was half-assed, even by your standards. You kissed me as if you didn't even know me!"

"L-Lao-"

"Or maybe you already moved on, didn't you? Who's the 'lucky guy,' hm? Is it Johnny? Kenshi? Heaven forbid Kitana! But I bet you like those types, huh? Do you like being a submissive bitch to someone who's way out of your league? I bet you sucked that Fire God off to get the title of Champion! He would've picked you regardless of whether you won or lost! I always saw the way he looked at you. He wanted you, no one else. Maybe that's why he paid such close attention to you than anyone else. He was playing favorites!"

"Lao-"

"No, you shut the fuck up! You think you can wise-man your ass out of this, but no, not this time, not ever. You never deserved it, ANY OF IT! I was ALWAYS better than you, ALWAYS! I'M THE ONE WHO KNOCKED THE TEETH OUT OF YOUR SKULL; I DID! EVERYONE HAS ALWAYS TOLD ME THAT I WAS THE BETTER FIGHTER. THAT I'M FASTER THAN YOU, STRONGER THAN YOU, EVEN NOW! BUT NOOO! ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS FLASH A SMILE AND SNIFF EVERYONE'S ASS, AND SUDDENLY, EVERYONE IS ALL OVER YOU!"

The more Kung Lao angrily rambled to Raiden, the more the thunder wielder felt his chest tighten. He's speechless. Has Lao always felt this way? Raiden has always known that Kung Lao was a better fighter than him. He was considered Madam Bo's favorite student for a reason. Since they were children, Kung Lao fought harder and was faster due to, what Raiden assumed, was his rough upbringing. Raiden has always looked up to Lao, exemplified him even. But he didn't know…He didn't know Kung Lao felt like…This.

The more Kung Lao poked at Raiden's expense, the more Raiden felt himself tearing apart at the seams. Raiden doesn't consider himself someone who would allow anyone to walk all over him, even if he has the demeanor of someone who would. Even with his humility and kindness, Raiden has and will clap back should anyone talk shit to him. But to hear such hatred from Kung Lao, hearing him degrade him for events that he doesn't even remember or believe have happened to them. The confusion, agony, and anger were consuming Raiden all at once.

"I'm…Sorry…"

It was all Raiden could muster, his voice quivering as he tried to maintain his composure while also breaking under Lao's sudden anger. There were many things Raiden wished he could say in response to Kung Lao's accusations. He wanted to reassure Kung Lao that he was seeing things that weren't there, that he had never thought of Kung Lao as lesser than or ever desired to be rid of him. But there was a part of himself that wished to chastise him. If Kung Lao would hear him out, he'd know he had lost many of his memories. It wasn't fair of Lao to start spitting out occurrences that supposedly happened between them that vexed him. If Kung Lao was of his right mind, instead of immediately blowing up in Raiden's face, he would know that Raiden has NEVER felt this way about their relationship. They were childhood friends! Why didn't he tell him this before? Why wait until after he had DIED and then came back to life? How long did Lao let this fester in this state?

"I'm…Sorry…" Raiden says again, quietly whimpering with his head facing the ground. Trying his best to further obscure the tears running down his face.

There's a moment of silence before Raiden feels Kung Lao's hand touch his cheek. Raiden flinches but allows Kung Lao to caress him, wanting to believe that there's still some measure of trust between them that hasn't been lost. He doesn't say it, Lao doesn't have to, but Raiden meets Kung Lao's eyes. It was almost as though Lao's outburst was a terrible hallucination, a figment of his seemingly broken mind. Kung Lao appeared remorseful, wiping away Raiden's tears with care, his lips tight with guilt as if he realized what he had done.

"No. I should be sorry for you, Raiden. He took so much from you, and it pains me that she-" Kung Lao stops himself, as though needing to correct himself on the spot, "It pains me that there's so much…Lost time between us."

So…He does know? Raiden tried to explain his condition to Kung Lao earlier, but the way he said what he did made it seem as though he already knew. But Raiden's brain was practically fried from the emotional rollercoaster he had been on since he met Kung Lao. And it doesn't help that Kung Lao occasionally kissed his round cheeks, causing the thunder wielder to blush and melt into Lao again. He never knew that his best friend would have such an effect on him…And he kinda likes it, honestly.

"It's-it's getting late, Lao. My folks are probably wondering where I'm at." Raiden says in a hushed tone. "You should come with me. They would be so happy to see you again. Everyone missed you."

Kung Lao smiles, "I'd love to. But not now. I have other business to attend to."

"You just came back from the dead," Raiden says, a small smile growing on his face. "What other 'business' must you attend to?"

Kung Lao doesn't answer him directly. Instead, he giggles and thumbs at Raiden's cheek. "I'll come by another time. Don't tell them yet; keep it a secret. It'll be a surprise." Kung Lao winks.

Raiden nodded, and for a moment, he wanted to lean into Kung Lao, wishing for a final kiss. But, to Raiden's surprise, Kung Lao just disappeared. Right in front of him, in a quick flash of light, small, wilted cherry blossom petals floated around him before descending to the ground.

"RAIDEN!"

Fuck. It was Fuji.

Raiden follows her voice, revealing himself to his younger sister. "Fuji, hi, um." Raiden honestly didn't think too far ahead when it came to actually coming forward to his sister.

"Raiden! Where the hell were you! You were supposed to be in bed, at home!" Fuji rushes towards her brother, pulling at his ear as if she were his mother.

"Agh, ow, ow, Fuji, stop!" Raiden strains in pain as he pulls her off him. "I'm sorry that I worried you-"

"Fucking hell, Raiden, you gave us all a heart attack! We thought the worst!"

Fuji continues to scold Raiden, and he quietly lets his sister air out her worries. Raiden reassuringly pats her head, smiling apologetically, "I'm sorry I snuck out of the house. I just-I didn't feel…I missed too many days of work; I didn't want to skip another day."

Fuji sighs, "I get that, but you must take care of yourself first. You haven't been getting sleep, your night terrors have been increasing, you've been acting paranoid. We're getting worried and…We thought you went and…Did something stupid."

"It won't happen again, promise."

This seemed to finally settle Fuji as she motioned for Raiden to follow her back home. "You can win me over easy, brother. Mom & Dad will be talking your ear out all night, so I hope leaving the house was worth it."

In a small way…Yeah, it was worth it.

[wakeupfreanz]

For the ask/ career predictions game (if you are still taking asks): I would like to know about bambam and Jackson please and thank you 😊

This one's for you anon!

Any solo from Bam coming soon/when?: 6oC, likely yes. The birth of a water sign? Something like he may not let cancer season pass before the release. Or the next coming earth sign birth cycle, Virgo? It seems like this project was delayed? Like it was supposed to happen in March or something. But he might have stopped to make some more revisions or work on other things first. Any solo from Jackson coming soon/when?: Hp, AoP, maybe to likely yes. Like he's working on it, but he is also waiting/believing that it will strike him to choose the perfect time to release it. So he's just going to sit on it until he feels like its time? But I digress, let's still see when. It seems like he could find himself shooting for October/Libra season, but he is still debating on when.

Bam from now until the end of the year?: 8oW rev, 3oS, Hierophant, Hermit. Star rev, HM rev, KnoP, Empress.

It seems like as of right now and for the next quarter? Difficult times might be getting the best of him. He may be harder to reach during this time, especially because he could be dealing with some tragedy in his home life, closest to him. Something like a sibling falling ill or things just requiring him to step back and stand behind his home ground. He is very wisely seeking counsel at this time, help in many ways to support himself though. It possibly causing him to question himself and where he's going because a lot of things are being put in perspective right now. He will continue to entertain this hermit energy for quite some time while he's shedding some skin. This leads me to the final quarter of the year. It seems like he will choose to burst from his shell, albeit a bit earlier that he should? But it seems like he won't allow life to keep his back pressed against the wall. Outwardly he seems like he will be back and better than ever, holding it down. But he will still be dealing with the remnants of stones continuing to be turned until the end of the year. He might find himself more easily exhausted during this time too. I can also see something major shifting for him toward the end of the year, more likely in 2025? He is likely to find or encounter someone very important for the next few chapters of his life? Or more like a romantic partner, which is going to be another catalyst for world shaking changes in his personal life.

Jack from now until the end of the year?: Lovers, Tower rev, Death, Hp. Judgement, QoC rev, QoS, 3oS.

It seems like there will be almost a lot of activity seismically that's energetic around him. The ground before was threatening to rumble but now he will actually be feeling it. There is some pretty big change that's coming to jolt him up. It seems like the universe/his guides have come to intervene in his current circumstances because there is a lot at stake for whatever he's doing. People will be weeded out and swapped in with others. It also seems he could be meeting a very important Gemini, someone important to his life, or a romantic partner.. His mindsets were in the process of changing, which also might lead him to also help with the reaping of his life. If he's been praying for clarity, it's going to be answered. In the final quarter, it seems like he will be feeling more ruthless. Much more no nonsense with those who are around him and in his presence. Like he was sobered up to those breathing the same air as him and he finally had enough. Judgement will come to test the fidelity of a lot of relationships and things in his life. He might find himself shocked, but it will lead to the removal of people who are no longer necessary for the path he has chosen. It seems that all of these changes will happen very quickly, which will lead to the shock of quite a few people. I can also say he might have finally figured out the recipe to develop a more healthy approach to things.

[bayofwolves]

The Return: Revised — King

You guys know about Path of the Heroes. (Probably. it's the name of an original fourth Spirit Animals arc I'm writing.) But what you might not know is that another part of the project is to take the existing three arcs and rewrite them. Not entirely, but tweaking and modifying for continuity's sake. There are some pretty big canonical divergences in Path of the Heroes (Shane is alive, for one), and since my writing starts after canon has ended, I have some explaining to do.

This may take ages, but that's okay. Since the original course of events stays mostly the same, I can easily just do rewrites of pivotal chapters for now.

Such as this one.

I completed this a while back in the summer. I guess I just never posted it, despite being so proud! This is the last chapter of The Return, where we get the long-awaited reveal of who the mysterious Redcloak is. Personally, I wish the author had given this chapter to Abeke instead of Rollan. I needed to see what was going on in her head! That was really what motivated me to redo this one.

This sets things up for the next development of Abeke and Shane's relationship. From the moment the Greencloaks get on the ship at the end of The Return to the climax of the final battle in The Burning Tide, the two inadvertently end up in the same vicinity, leading to some talks and growth in their relationship. They're healing. Abeke hasn't forgiven him yet, but she's noticing more and more how he's changed for the better.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. For now, here's the rewritten final chapter of The Return!

Content warning for suicidal ideation and dissociation.

Quick notes:

The title of this chapter has been changed from 'Redcloaks' to 'King'.

Shane and Tasha are cousins, which is mentioned here. Shane's mother, Queen Gwyneth, had two siblings; Tasha is the daughter of her brother. Thus, with Drina deceased, Shane missing and Gar leaving no children, Tasha is set to take the throne of Stetriol. There's a lot more to this, but I'll go into it some other time.

This is not the final cut -- this chapter will receive some more edits before being fully published as part of the project. Think of it as a sneak peek.

Okay, enough preamble. Read it under the cut!

Spirit Animals: Fall of the Beasts

Book 3: The Return

Chapter X — King

.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖

The chill wind that rose from the sea seeped into Abeke's bones. She shivered and pulled her cloak more tightly around her shoulders, but made no move to leave her spot at the ship's rail. Her gaze, fixed on the fading shape of Zourtzi in the distance, remained unbroken.

She felt hollow. She had no desire to move, to speak, even to think. She doubted she would be able to if she tried. It took all that remained of her willpower to draw in shallow breath after shallow breath. All the life had been drained out of her, the very moment Zerif's black spiral had begun to pulse on Uraza's brow. So there she stood, watching the conquered fortress grow smaller.

Perhaps the tears would come later. So far, she didn't have it in her to cry.

The absence of Uraza was like a wound, the ugliest wound she'd ever been dealt, throbbing with every dismal beat of her heart.

She was so lost.

So alone.

Abeke brought shaking hands up to her eyes and pushed until she saw stars. She willed her heart to simply stop. What life was worth living without her spirit animal?

Soft footsteps sounded behind her. Abeke didn't need to look up to tell that it was Rollan. She knew his footfalls, his voice, his face, even better than she knew her own.

She didn't turn as her friend walked over to her, his steps measured and unsure. It was unlike him to move so carefully around her, Abeke thought. She could feel the pity radiating from him without even seeing his face. It all made Abeke want to jump over the side of the ship.

Rollan made no sound when he reached her side, only wrapped an arm around her shoulder. At the contact, a little warmth bloomed through Abeke's body. It almost brought tears to her eyes.

"How are you doing?" Rollan spoke. Concern was etched into the familiar curves of his face. Abeke wanted to lose herself there, in the steadying weight of his brown eyes, but she couldn't hold his gaze. She glanced away.

"Empty." The sun-tipped waves of the sea rolled below them. Abeke found strange solace in their neverending flow. "Lost. Alone." Her voice didn't sound like her own. It was as if someone else was commanding her body, as the real Abeke hovered above and watched everything play out. Like a ghost.

Rollan was silent for a moment, before he spun her towards him and pulled her into a tight hug. Abeke let herself be pulled and positioned in his arms, like a doll. But as the hug stretched out, she felt the sheet of ice that covered her heart begin to melt away.

"You're not alone," Rollan mumbled into her neck. Abeke dropped her head to his shoulder and hugged him back with all the strength she had left.

When they finally pulled back, Rollan's eyes were wet. Abeke's own throat had started to close, so much so that she didn't trust herself with words. She returned to leaning over the rail, but this time, her arm brushed Rollan's.

"She was there, and then in the space of a heartbeat, she was gone," Abeke recounted. She lifted her eyes to the smoke rising from Zourtzi – the last place she had seen Uraza. "She looked at me like I was a stranger. It was as if our bond had never existed." Abeke forced herself to keep her eyes on the horizon. She knew that as soon as she closed them, she'd see nothing but the moment Uraza leaped for her throat, replaying over and over.

"We'll get her back," Rollan said fiercely. "I promise."

Turning her head, Abeke regarded her friend through a film of tears. The love and worry in his expression was almost overwhelming.

Abeke sniffed and swiped at her face before the tears could fall. She didn't know how to respond – couldn't – but Rollan seemed to understand, like he always did. They stood side by side in the silence Abeke needed.

Awkward footfalls met her ears not long after, and Abeke felt Rollan turn through their connected arms. "Hey," came Tasha's voice. Her dark hair and green cloak came into Abeke's peripheral vision as the younger girl stopped at her other side.

"How's Kirat?" Rollan asked softly over Abeke's head.

"Fine," Tasha murmured back. "The Redcloak medic is tending to him." The exchange fizzled out, and Abeke soon felt the weight of both her friends' gazes.

Abeke blinked down at Tasha's brown hand, covering her own on the rail. When had that gotten there? "Abeke," the Stetriolan girl was saying. Unlike Rollan, who was always in sharp focus, her voice seemed to come from a long way off. "We're here for you."

Abeke pulled her head to the side. It was all too much.

A third set of footfalls sounded on the deck behind the three. Two short steps, strong and curt.

Curiosity compelled Abeke to look. As one, the three Greencloaks turned to take in the newcomer.

It was the Redcloak.

Abeke's eyes flicked over his sweeping scarlet cloak, his black leathers, the smooth wood of his mask. She had seen plenty of Redcloaks, even on this ship, but only one wore a mask so strange. Only one of them had no face.

Some of the fog that had settled over her body since Uraza was taken seemed to lift. Who really was this mysterious warrior that had saved them time and time again?

Something deep in her heart told her she already knew.

"Is everyone in your party all right?" the Redcloak asked. His voice was deep and raspy, almost reptilian in quality. Abeke tried to compare it to the voice she remembered from her past, the voice that still sometimes spoke in her dreams, but recognized nothing.

She realized after a moment that his gaze hadn't strayed from her.

"We'll survive," Rollan said for all of them. His voice rang clear in her ears. She glanced to either side of her, noticing the wariness in Rollan's face and the way Tasha nervously clung to her wrist. "Now, how about explaining what's going on here? I think it's about time for some answers."

The Redcloak tipped his head to one side as he considered Rollan, his oddly pale eyes glinting under his mask. "Soon," he said simply. "Be patient. We're taking you somewhere safe."

"Yeah, and where is that?" Rollan countered, bitterness lacing his words. "If you haven't noticed, nowhere is safe anymore. Zerif can get to us anywhere. In Zourtzi, in Stetriol and even at Greenhaven."

Tasha drooped beside her. A distant part of Abeke wanted to comfort her, but what comfort could she give?

Strangely, the Redcloak seemed to droop as well. "So the rumours are true," he said with a sigh. "Greenhaven has fallen as well."

There was something so intrinsically familiar about his stance, his speech, his whole bearing. Abeke had mulled this over for many nights, but now, with him standing a mere ten feet away, she felt everything in her threaten to spill out. Her heart ached, and she had the strangest urge to reach for him. Could it really be him? After so long?

The masked figure stared out to sea for a brief moment. "You should rest. There are more battles to come."

Then he turned and made to stride away. With her heart in her throat, Abeke pushed away from her friends and staggered forward. "Wait," she called hoarsely. "At least tell us your name."

The Redcloak turned around and fixed Abeke with his uncanny eyes.

"You've saved our lives again and again." The pounding of her heart was deafening. She could barely hear herself over it. She stepped forward again, then gripped onto Rollan's shoulder for support; he had hurried to her side. "Tell us who you are," she repeated, "so that we might thank you properly."

The Redcloak hesitated. "I'm called King," he said at last. Was it her imagination, or had his posture softened a touch? "I am the leader of the Redcloaks."

King. A hush fell over Abeke's mind. King.

As he watched her with wide eyes, Abeke heard Tasha speak from behind her. "Thank you," she said quietly. "We are forever in your debt."

King only spared a glance to acknowledge her. He tilted his chin again, then moved to walk away once more.

Abeke watched as he stopped still, his back to them. She watched him slowly turn back around. And with her heart thundering in her ears, she watched him fix his eyes on her.

His next words came soft, low. "I used to be known by another name."

Not of her own volition, Abeke found herself shaking her head from side to side. No. No.

The Redcloak drew back his hood, revealing light blond hair. Then he reached behind his head and unfastened his mask. "You knew me as Shane."

The mask fell away.

Abeke couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. She didn't react to Rollan's gasp of shock and Tasha's startled cry of "Cousin?" Her surroundings melted into waxy darkness. All she saw before her was Shane.

Though it was unmistakably him, the boy she used to know was barely recognizable. His normally tanned skin was pale, like he hadn't seen the sun in months. Knobbly green ridges had replaced his eyebrows, giving him a fearsome, monstrous look. Worst of all were his eyes. Gone was the keen blue stare that Abeke remembered so well. Instead, she was met with glowing, reptilian yellow-green. They were twice as large as they should have been, and bordered by pebbled scales. Slitted pupils stood out at their centres, holding her captive. A shudder of revulsion rolled over her.

"What happened to you?" Rollan's voice came in a horrified whisper.

Abeke hardly registered the words. Her breathing was coming in ragged gasps, and she felt the prickle of sweat all over her body. Her hands were already slick with it. She clenched them into tight fists, ignoring the way they trembled.

Of course.

It was him all along.

He and his Redcloaks had fought for them in their every hour of need – but now they were at their mercy. They were still in the dark about their motives, and now they were surrounded by them. Abeke's heart seized with panic. Her thoughts flew to Tasha, Shane's rival for the throne, and Kirat, belowdecks with the rest of the Redcloaks. Would they be safe with Shane? What if his only reason for helping them was a twisted desire to collect the newly reborn Great Beasts for himself?

The memory of the mysterious red-cloaked figure coming to her defense in Amaya sprang into her mind. He had saved her life from Arax. In Zourtzi, too, he had protected her from Zerif. Was it possible he still cared for her?

Abeke swiftly banished those thoughts from her mind. Shane was the enemy. He would always be the enemy. And this reveal was proof he would never stop lying.

I'm called King. Abeke shook with barely repressed tension as she remembered his words. An image of Shane with the Devourer's crown atop his head and a wicked smile on his face flashed through her memory. I am the leader of the Redcloaks. She saw him at the head of the Conqueror army at Muttering Rock, almost obscured by their black masses, seated astride his giant crocodile. How did she not see it before? How could she be so foolish?

She knew who the Redcloaks were.

They were enemies.

Shane's eerie eyes bored into her. Abeke recognized them now as crocodilian. How could she believe, even for a moment, that he might have wanted to change for the better? The symbol of his betrayal was branded over his once-handsome face.

But Shane wasn't the only one who was different now.

Abeke was done taking chances.

And she had nothing more to lose.

Whipping the bow off her back in one swift motion, Abeke brought an arrow to the string and pointed it straight at her former friend's heart.

The world came back into startling clarity the moment she did so. She heard a scream from Tasha, heard Rollan clap his hand around the girl’s wrist to hold her at bay. Abeke kept her eyes locked with Shane's. Was it the rocking of the ship that was causing her aim to waver?

"I had hoped it wasn't you," she rasped. "I had hoped you weren't tricking me again."

Shane was silent, slowly bringing his clawed hands up.

"Abeke, he just saved our lives," Tasha said urgently. "Maybe we should –"

Abeke stared at her in blind fury. "Do you know the last time Shane saved my life?" she snapped. "He used it as a way to sneak into Greenhaven and betray us. He used me. I was nothing but a tool to him." Tasha recoiled in the face of her anger, eyes wide with shock. Guilt flickered through Abeke, but she had no time to apologize. Resolutely, she turned her attention back to Shane and tightened her hand around her bow. "It'll be no different now."

"That's not true," Shane protested, with such force behind his words that it surprised her. "You were never a tool to me." His raised hands lowered and spread in a pleading gesture. "Much has changed since we last spoke openly… as I'm sure is obvious. Everything I've done with this mask, this cloak, this name, was not to deceive you, but to start anew and atone for my mistakes."

Abeke tilted her head to the side, steeling herself. She wouldn't let Shane's honeyed words ensnare her again. She was past this. She was stronger than this.

Her sweaty hands were making it hard to keep a firm grip on her bow. Could she shoot him, here and now? Did she have it in her?

With every passing second, she was less and less sure.

Behind her, she heard the worried voices of Rollan and Tasha. They were calling her name, trying to summon her out of her trance. It reminded her painfully of the last time she'd confronted Shane – the duel they'd fought in front of Kovo's empty prison. That time, too, she hadn't been able to finish him off. Something almost like instinct wouldn't allow her to.

She felt it now, some deep force within her, causing her arrowhead to tremble as she looked into the haunting face of her former friend. She let out a short scream, hoping to dispel some of her rage and pain. Sudden tears obscured her vision. "Give me one good reason why I should trust you," she challenged. Her voice came out raw and broken.

Shane stared at her for a long moment, and though it was impossible to read any emotion in those slitted eyes, Abeke thought she sensed immense sadness from him. "Let me speak plainly. The end is near."

Abeke gave a wry, husky laugh. Indeed, Erdas must be in her final days for the two of them to reforge an alliance.

"I know this is difficult, but I need you to trust me. To trust us," the boy said gravely. "There's something you need to see. It may be the key to saving Erdas, and perhaps the key to saving Uraza as well."

Abeke's eyes widened in shock. Hesitantly, she lowered her bow a few inches.

Shane wanted to help Uraza?

His slitted yellow-green eyes tracked her movement, unreadable, before they returned to hers. Something almost like hope lit his face. "Give me this chance, and I promise you, I won't let you down."

Abeke considered him for a long moment. Once, Shane had been a friend to her, a steady comfort even across opposite sides of the war. He had traded that all away for victory, using her as a pawn in his schemes before tossing her aside. He had made promises, and he had broken them. But now he stood before her, after saving her and her friends so many times, with a vow to save her spirit animal as well. Abeke looked at his changed appearance and felt horror. But now, she wondered if a better change was brimming below the surface.

Her bow fell to her side as the fight suddenly went out of her. She stared blankly at it for a moment, then took the arrow from the string and slipped it back into her quiver. She had thought about shooting it across the waves to release some of her tension, but decided against it. No need to waste an arrow. After all, she thought, turning dark eyes up at Shane, there are more battles to come.

She would place her trust in him for now. But for the sake of her friends, for Rollan, for the children they were tasked with protecting, she would be on her guard.

Slinging her bow over one shoulder, Abeke glanced over to Rollan and Tasha. Rollan, who knew her so well, must have read something in her hollow gaze that she herself was oblivious to. He was at her side in a heartbeat, touching her hand with his. Tasha followed in his wake, putting a hand on Abeke’s shoulder with more uncertainty. Abeke stood still with them for a moment, surrendering the worst of her pain and anger to the ocean wind. Surrounded by the best things she had left in her life, she could breathe.

Abeke looked down at her friends, giving them a weighty nod. Tasha returned it, then Rollan. They were with her. They would face this together. The thought renewed her strength.

With a deep breath, Abeke locked determined eyes with Shane. "Where to?" she asked.

Shane took a step forward and looked out across the water. "We sail for the Place of Desolation."

.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖

[awritingcaitlin]

March Wrap-Up

Wow somehow it’s already April. But also… finally it’s April. March felt like it went by in a flash and also like it dragged on forever. 💜Regarding Me💜 So the packing chaos continued into March as we continue to prep to move. In addition to packing came cleaning and other necessary things to get a house on the market. We also went and looked at new houses, and there’s some we really like, but without our current house selling first, it’s too soon to put an offer on one.

Currently, I’m living in ~staged house purgatory~ which is a real fun time in which we pretend we don’t live in the house and thus there is no trash, no litter boxes, and no extraneous items laying out. 🙃

Freelance work has picked up a little, but I’m hoping I get something more regular to cover both some of the expected and unexpected expenses of moving. 💻At the Keyboard💻 Despite all the moving shenanigans, I got back into writing late in the month! I’ve officially rewritten the first five chapters of Heist for Draft 3! A grand total of like 4k new words over the past week really. All of my main characters have been introduced and the plot is now underway. I’m really happy for the direction it’s taken and I’m crossing my fingers that the next five chapters come easily to me. And then the five after that, and then the five after that…

Considering it’s Camp Nano April, even though I’m not participating on the site due to ~reasons~, I’m going to try to prioritize writing a little more this month. It’s actually hard to track word count when this is a revision and so some of the chapters will be just copied into the new draft with minimal changes. But I’d like to see maybe 50-60k total words in Draft 3 by the end of the month if I can swing it. Which should get me well into Act 2. Completing Act 2 would be an absolute stretch goal.

I’d put an expected date to have Draft 3 done by, but with moving and trying to find work, it’s hard. 📚From the Bookshelf📚 I finished Ryka Aoki’s Light From Uncommon Stars. I’ll be honest, I came to the book looking for the deals with demons and the violins. I stayed for the queerness and all the references to California. I honestly really loved the book. It didn’t shy away from talking about how being different affects a person—whether that be race, class, or identity. I also cannot even begin to describe just how much I loved reading how music was described throughout the narrative. It’s given me ideas for what I want to do in Heist and if I wasn’t moving and trying not to buy new things, I’d by a physical copy to annotate. (Maybe I’ll by an ebook and figure out how to annotate with my iPad.)

I loved every single POV and I felt like every one of them came to the table with a desire that was valid and made sense. Honestly, the only thing I didn’t like was that it felt like there were two ways the author wanted to end the book and she couldn’t decide which one worked better, so she went with both. Except they don’t 100% match up.

Do not let that keep you from reading this book however, because it’s absolutely amazing. Read it if you like music. Read it if you want to read about what it means to be a person. For what it means to be love and accepted no matter who you are. I’m still thinking about it weeks after I finished. I’ll end this here, since that’s about all I have for now. Stay tuned for whatever April brings!

[homemoviess]

What Did You Do, Sans?

♫ - What I’m currently listening to.

During yesterday's blackout at the resort, I decided to go through some of my old files on my phone, and I came across this unfinished story. It was written back on July 1st of 2020, and I wish I could give you a detailed explanation of what I planned for this one, but I genuinely do not remember. I know it technically has little to do with the current project, but I thought I’d share it with you. 

There will be no post tomorrow since I’m heading back home, and even though I absolutely loved it here on the beach, I’m definitely excited to get back to the grind of everyday life. Well, until the next adventure. 

I hope to show you my plans for scene three of chapter one on Monday—no later than Tuesday. 

While you wait, please enjoy the below. 

A call from an old friend was like a batch of lemonade from the neighborhood’s girl scout; it could be sweet, but it could also be a sour cup of water. There was a bit of surprise there, and with surprise came excitement. Sans liked to believe he was a skeleton seeking the latest thrill, but anyone who knew him knew that couldn’t be further from the truth. Despite that, Sans stretched, wiped his sleepy sockets, and answered his phone.

 He bellied a deep, “Hello?” Still unsure of what to expect. 

The voice on the other end was quiet for a long, painstakingly lengthy, minute, before letting out a shaken breath. There was thought put into the upcoming words, like this unknown individual had been reciting this speech for a long time. They prepared for it, wrote it down, and revised it a trillion times until they got it right. But now, like a child in the school play just stricken with stage fright, they froze and forgot their lines.

 Sans wasn’t an intimidating guy, or at least that was his belief, so he’d figured he’d help break the ice. He’d cut the awkward tension rather than simply hang up—this was an old friend after all. “It’s been a while. I haven’t heard from ya since we all left the Underground.” That was a good conversation starter. He hoped they would take it.

 There was more silence.

 Sans pulled the phone from his ear cavity to look the number over one last time, to make sure he did, in fact, recognize it. This all could be a dumb prank call, and in that case, a waste of his precious nap time. The digits looked familiar enough. He had a knack for remembering little intricate details, but phone numbers had always been a hit or miss. “Well, if you’re not gonna say anything I better get going—“

 “I-it has been a while. How are you?” Finally, a voice, and a voice he could identify. It was soft, warm as mother’s milk, and it was also a whisper. Perhaps she was at a library, a public bathroom, the DMV—and Stars knows that place wasn’t the loudest location in a strip mall. She had to be somewhere discrete since Sans could see no other reason to talk so low at 3 o’clock in the afternoon. 

“Good. But..uh are you alright?” He asked as he sat up on the couch. 

 The voice suddenly became self aware, clearing her throat before continuing. “Yeah! I’m fine. I was just hit with nostalgia and thought that maybe we could talk like old times?”  Her tone got gradually louder the more she spoke. There was still this underlying oscillation, like she was putting up a joyous front, like she was wearing a mask. “You can share more puns, and we can swap stories, and maybe… maybe this is a bad idea. I’m sorry to disturb you.”

 Sans quickly intervened before she could hang up. “No, no. wait! That actually sounds like a lot of fun. Tell me your address and I’ll come over.” He was tripping over himself to worm out of the wool throw to find a piece of paper to write on. The noise was making quite the commotion on the other end of the phone, he was sure. It sounded like a battlefield with the constant banging, crashing, and muffled cursing. Finally Sans was victorious as he gripped a capless pen in his palms.

 “M-my address?” The voice stuttered after a moment of quiet debating.

“This is Toriel, right?” Sans wiped the sweat from his skull with his sleeve. 

 “It is.” She whispered again.

 “If you don’t want to meet up at your house we can meet up at mine.” It then dawned on him that she might be uncomfortable alone with him. That made him frown. Looking back in his memory bank he couldn’t see why she would ever feel that way. They were good friends Underground, he’d argue best friends. Maybe. Maybe not.

 But again, Sans wasn’t an intimidating guy. There was nothing to be afraid of.

 “Or we can meet somewhere public if you’re scared I might bite,” Sans snickered to himself, intending the comment to be a joke.

Toriel didn’t laugh. “I’ll send my address. How about we meet in an hour?”

 Before Sans had a moment to respond the phone clicked. She was gone. He looked at his device with wide sockets. A second later there was a ping and a message with an address. Nothing else. No, “sorry my phone turned off”, or “I didn’t mean to suddenly hang up on you.”

 The whole conversation was strange, but maybe because their friendship left off on a strange note? One day things were normal, and the next Toriel refused to come to the Ruin doors for his daily dose of shitty jokes. He often wondered what he did to screw things up.

 Now he could find out.

Sans knocked once, twice, thrice, then waited. He actually bothered to shower and change his dingy sweater for this special occasion. With a quick armpit sniff, and a swift adjusting of his T-shirt, he stood up straight. Often his spine would default to a slouch. It was almost a full C at this point. He swore he was developing quite the hunchback.

 It took three minutes—three minutes he deliberately counted since he told himself he would leave by the fifth—before someone came to the door. There were footsteps at first, loud, barefooted steps, that stopped just short of the dark oak.

 Silence again.

 The constant silence was beginning to become unnerving. Sans instinctively backed up. Suddenly this felt like an ambush, like someone was waiting to snatch him up, and he’d never be seen again. Maybe that wasn’t Toriel on the phone? It would explain the odd behavior almost too well. He clenched his fists and prepared to shortcut out of there if need be.

 The door unlocked and slowly creaked open.

 It was dark inside the house. Sans could barely make out the window shining sunlight in a back room. At first he saw no one until a tuft of white fur peeked behind the door like a socket puppet springing from a cardboard stage. The rest of a delicate goat head followed shortly afterwards until Toriel’s whole body was revealed. She wore a strained smile, not exactly pleased to see Sans, but still welcoming him regardless. “You actually came?” She said in disbelief as if she hadn’t just invited him an hour ago. “...please come in.”

 Her gaze fell, never quite making Sans sockets. The door was extended open, and she moved her body out of the way.

 With his bony hands shoved in his pockets, he climbed the porch steps, hesitantly marched past a hanging swing set, and entered the dimly lit house.

 The door shut behind him.

 Sans blinked to allow his eyesight to adjust. The two of them simply stood near the door for a while, looking everywhere but at each other. It was awkward to say the least. “So, uh. You have a nice home.” He pointed at her pleasantly decorated, but with a touch of grandma’s house,  furniture. 

“Thank you.” Toriel gripped the front of her mom jeans. Her head remained low as she avoided Sans gaze. This felt less like a meeting between old friends, and more like a hostage situation. Did she not want to see him? 

 She was deliberately making things uncomfortable now.

 The skeleton was inches away from confronting her. He swore he’d bug her to know what her deal was and why she suddenly cut off all contact with him. He held himself back, though. Maybe something else was happening in her life and she needed a temporary positive light. Maybe he’s meant to be said light.

 There were pictures on the wall. Sans approached them and got a great big look. In each frame were fond memories of Toriel and a human child. “How’s the kid doing? Still being a little nuisance I’d imagine?” He chuckled. Still no reaction from his host. God, what a tough crowd to please.

 “They are good. I made sure we were alone today, so you don’t have to worry.” Sans didn’t know why she felt the need to be alone with him, honestly he would’ve loved to see Frisk. He didn’t word his feelings. Of course he wouldn’t since he appeared to catch a bad case of the cottonmouth. 

Toriel led Sans to the living room. There was a tray of tea on the coffee table in front of a floral sofa. She waited for Sans to take a seat before sitting on an opposite couch. “Tea?” She offered.

 “Sure.” He leaned back in the lazy boy. It was pretty huge, a little too huge. He noticed more of the family photography, as well as a pair of large oxfords at the front door. The house looked far more lived in than his own, and definitely nothing about it screamed royalty. It wasn’t until he saw the golden ring on her finger did his suspicions get confirmed. “It’s nice to see you and Asgore are together again.”

 Toriel immediately stopped pouring the tea. Her hands shook a little, spilling the hot liquid all over her paws. Sans shot up to help her clean up, but the minute he touched her, she jumped back. “We aren’t together...I’m deeply sorry. Please drink your tea.” Her smile was more painful than the burns under her ivory fur.

 Sans took the mug and returned to his seat without another word just so he could avoid causing more conflict. He sipped his tea and watched as she very slowly wiped the mess. It was amazing how long it could take a person to complete such a basic task. Not that he had a leg to stand on, being extremely lazy and all.

 Silence followed once more.

 “I just came up with a fitting pun—“

 “How are you so unbothered about being around me? It’s almost like what happened never did.” When Toriel finished with the spill she neatly folded the rag and placed it down on the tray. Her hands were still shaking, her head still hung low, and she still avoided looking at Sans.

 Sans scratched the top of his head, totally confused. He had no idea what she was referencing. What happened? Is this hidden event the reason she dropped their friendship? Of course it was, but he had no idea what he did. Maybe he told too many bad jokes? Or missed too many of their talking sessions? He wanted to just flat out ask, but judging by her demeanor, he feared he would insult her for being unaware. So he tried to play along to fish out more information.

 “You’re right. I should take it more seriously. I can’t believe I let it happen.” He responded very vaguely. He expected her to go into more detail, but instead she broke down into tears.

 “Since then, all I wanted was an apology. Please, Sans. Can I have one?” She sobbed into her palms, her large chest jiggling with each shaken inhale, sniffle, eye rub. Sans was hypnotized by it. The goat woman’s breasts were nice and plump, squishy. The faint outline of her nipples poked out daring him to pinch them.

 Sans downed his tea.

 Staring at a woman’s tits as she cried her eyes out was so inappropriate. The fuck was he thinking? 

 “I’m sorry. I won’t let it happen again, you have my word,” Sans placed his mug down to see Toriel staring at him. She looked like a shellshock animal, a deer in the headlights, aimless eyes honing in on his sockets. They stayed like this for a long moment, engaging in an eerie blinking contest, neither one of them wanted to be the first to break contact.

 It took a loud thump from the ceiling to take Sans out of the trance.

 He looked towards the stairs. It was far too dark to see anything beyond the fifth step. The house grew quiet again, white noise drowning in his skull.

 “Sorry for what? You can’t be sincere if you don’t admit your faults,” Toriel pulled his attention back on her. Now the goat was a seat closer to him. Sans’ stomach started to gurgle, which was odd since he didn’t have a stomach. His head felt hazy.

 “I’m sorry for offending—“

 “No! Just say it! Why can’t you admit what you did to me?!? Did I mean that little to you?” Toriel started a new fit of tears. She cradled herself, rocking back and forth, weeping.

 “What did I do? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Sans grew nervous, terrified. He could sense the oncoming danger like the stillness before a twister. Another thump came from the upper floor, and this got Sans on his feet quicker than the speed of light. His head, his poor dome, was spinning. He was seeing doubles, triples, five different Toriels. Maybe he got up too fast? He wanted to believe he got up too fast. 

 Suddenly he was in the chair again and his friend was one seat closer. 

 “You really don’t remember? I’m not going to put the words in your mouth. Please, all I want is a proper apology.” She was now begging Sans to confess his crimes, crimes he did not commit. Crimes he wasn’t even aware of. “I can’t.. I can’t move,” Sans attempted to stand up, get out of this situation as soon as possible, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t shortcut. He couldn’t move his limbs. He was a living statue. A skeleton halfway buried in sand. 

 His facial ‘muscles’ worked, he could move his jaws, his sockets, his brow ridge, but that was about it. 

 Toriel was still crying to herself, now on the floor, continuously wiping at her eyes. “It’s temporary—“

 “Why did you drug me? I didn’t do anything.” Sans would yell if he could, but now his voice came out low and flat. The thumping upstairs got louder. It got more frequent.

 “I’m sorry...I’m just—he was so mad...I had to lie.” Toriel barely got anything out between trembling wails. Her explanation did little to answer the many raising questions in Sans’ head. The main one being who she was referring to and why he would be upset with her to the point of holding Sans hostage? Perhaps he already knew the answer to those questions. Perhaps he liked to pretend he was nothing more than an innocent party in this equation. 

 The thumping upstairs finally stopped. “I thought we were alone?” Obviously they weren’t, yet he still felt the need to point out more of her lies.

 For the millionth time that day, the house grew silent.

 Then footsteps came crashing down the stairs. Unable to move his head, Sans had to rely on Toriel’s reaction to know what was happening beyond his vision. She looked terrified as she quickly got to her feet. “Please don’t do this. I swear it wasn’t his fault.” Her panicked pleas were followed by a quiet quarrel.

 A bead of sweat ran from his forehead as he tried to make out the other voice. They were whispering something. It was far too low to make out. Sans tried desperately to move, if not move, at least form some fraction of magic. There was nothing, like some unknown force was holding back his mojo.

 Toriel returned to his line of vision. He could hear footsteps behind him, someone stopped, and then a large hand graced his skull. Sans held his breath. He didn’t know what to expect, so he expected the worst.

 Would begging for his life be too pathetic? Would it even work? If he was going to die he’d rather not do it like a punk. “If you’re gonna kill me, kill—“ He was cut off by a hard blow to the back of his head. Sans was out cold in seconds.

 The last thing he saw before the world faded to black was the crying face of Toriel.

 Sans woke up to jiggling breasts. His head laid in a warm lap, the jugs rested on top of his forehead. It was like two pillows, two heavy clouds, and he wanted so badly to grope them. A perverted grin spread across his face as he tried to enjoy this wet dream of his.

 Now to remove that top.

 As Sans tried to reach up to cup a feel, the realization he wasn’t dreaming hit him harder than whatever blunt object whacked him unconscious. He was brought back into the moment, fear-ridden adrenaline pumping through him. He felt a draft brush his bones, and figured he was stripped naked. There was no telling for sure since he couldn’t move his head. There was a blanket over him. Whether it was to keep him warm, modest, or hidden mattered little when a foreign hand joined the picture. It rested above his rib cage, fuzzy and clawed.

 “Looks like our guest is awake. Welcome back, JUDGE.” A deep voice vibrated throughout his bones. He didn’t need to see its ace to know who it was.

 Toriel lied again. Shocker.

 “Y-your Majesty, I’m innocent..I didn’t do anything—“ The hand gripped one of his rib bones. It was far too tight, aggressive, painful. Sans let out a sharp yelp, effectively cutting himself off.

 “Enough of the lies. Why don’t you accept your punishment like a good little criminal!” Asgore poked his goat head out of the blankets. He didn’t look furious as much as amused. “Touching my Toriel is strictly forbidden.” Whether Asgore thought Sans helped Toriel “cheat”, or he assumed something heinous was done to her, it all became irrelevant. Sometimes hateful revenge didn’t need a logical reason. Sometimes an assumption was enough.

Or a lie.

 Had he ever touched her? That was hard to do through stone doors. 

“Your majesty, I—“ Sans was hauled into the air by the ribs. He was left suspended in Asgore’s grip, gasping, and trying not to dust under the goat’s strength. 

“Remove your top, dear.” Asgore cooed. “He desired to play with your breasts before, so I'm sure the sight of them will excite him.”

The need to explain he was blameless was tempting for Sans, but he physically couldn’t breathe, so instead he shook his head. This wasn’t what the king thought it was, but as Sans was hovered from the couch and given a chance to see beneath the blankets, it was confirmed that he was naked. 

And so was Asgore. 

Toriel was hesitant to undress.

[caye-otome-translations]

100 Days Princess - Byron Wagner’s Route Episode 8 (Translated)

Goodbye 2022, and happy 2023! This is the first post of the new year. My new year’s resolution for this account is to finally finish Byron’s route and post a handful of events waiting in my backlog! Hopefully I’ll be able to start a new route by the end of the year. I also plan to continue revising past chapters and improving my translations.

Quick Links

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Bryon Wagner Episode 8, Part 5/10

Byron: “I want your smile to always be by my side.” *Top Left Picture*

Byron: “This voice, this figure.”

Byron: “...I want to protect everything with these hands.”

MC: “............”

Byron: “When I gaze at the stars, I remember your face.” *Top Middle Picture*

(...... …)

Byron: “The stars are always in front of us.”

Byron: “No more, no less.”

The eyes that used to gaze at the stars with loneliness, are now looking straight at me.

(...I don’t want to cry.)

Tears naturally spilled out, falling onto Byron-sama’s hand.

Byron: “...I think even the tears you shed right now are precious.” *Top Right Picture*

Byron: “Does this convey my feelings to you?” *Bottom Left Picture*

(...It does.)

This proof was in Byron-sama’s eyes, in which I was certain I could see my own reflection.

(...To be reflected in his eyes.)

(That makes me so happy…)

MC: “Yes, Byron-sama.”

With a full smile, I looked back at the eyes in front of me.

MC: “I’m so happy to hear you say this… I can’t bear it anymore.”

Byron: “...I should be more polite.”

Byron-sama’s other hand hugged my waist.

MC: “Byron…sama?”

Byron: “Princess.”

At a distance where our breaths touched, the most gentle voice I ever heard from him fell.

Byron: “I want to welcome you as an official candidate for queen.”

Byron: “Will you choose to walk this path with me…?” *Bottom Middle Picture*

(...My answer is already decided.)

MC: “I love Byron-sama.”

Byron: “Is that so…”

MC: “Yes, of course… I’m certain.”

MC: “From now on, I think I will be more attracted to you.”

Byron: “Your message has been made loud and clear.”

Byron: “From this day on, we will get to know each other.”

MC: “...Yes.”

Byron: “And once I know what you mean by love…”

Byron: “I hope to welcome you as an official candidate for queen.”

(I want to walk beside this person.)

MC: “Yes, Byron-sama.”

Byron: “You really change your expressions a lot.”

As we confirmed our feelings for each other, we exchanged a kiss like a vow.

…………

***

MC: “...... …”

As we sank into his bed, Byron-sama discarded his jacket, and whispered softly in my ear…--

Byron: “...Can you describe this feeling?”

MC: “Byron-sama…”

Byron: “I can’t… I’m not letting you go all night.” *Bottom Right Picture*

Premier Bonus Story Preview

[Byron] “……Your voice is sweet.”

He caressed my head as if he were protecting a treasure…

His lips touched my ear, and his hoarse voice reached my ear…

Requirements for Premier Bonus Story

Elegant navy with gold embellishments - open heel and layered shawl set

Cost: 500 points

____________________________________________

T/N: You may have noticed that MC mentions being “reflected in Byron-sama’s eyes” a lot. This refers to the notion that you can see a reflection in someone’s eyes if you get close enough to them. As such, when MC says this phrase she means that she wishes to be really close to Byron-sama and be seen by him, or in this case, she is finally close to Byron-sama and seen by him now. Thought I would explain the meaning of the phrase since it has odd wording and seems weirdly placed sometimes.

[emwritesstuff]

as the world caves in | ch. 6 | bucky barnes x reader

synopsis: You are a ghost story. A former Air Force pilot who had her plane shot down by Germany in 1945, but here you were in 2023, alive and frozen in your 25-year-old body.

You haven’t seen Bucky since the 1940’s, before his fall, before you went on a suicide mission only to come back alive. You aren’t sure reliving those memories – and being a living memory of everything the man has lost – is the best for him.

But you and Bucky won’t be apart for long.  

This will loosely follow the plot of TFATWS - so spoilers ahead, specially regarding episode four. Thread carefully!

masterlist | AO3

notes: The following chapter is finally here! It took me a while to revise it because I wanted the action scenes to not suck super badly, so yeah. 

(warnings: mentions of death, gunshots, blood, injuries) (word count: 3K)

six: shield

You sat next to Sam as he typed in a computer and Helmut Zemo nursed his headache. Once he gained consciousness, he’d showered you in gratitude and niceties, and you were already close to knocking him out yourself.

T-minus what, four hours? The Dora Milaje would be there soon enough.

It’s he the one to break the comfortable silence, only filled by the soft clicking of Sam’s keyboard before.

“Were you ever offered it?”

“What?”

“The serum.”

“No.” Sam said, raising an eyebrow at you with an amused expression. You shrugged.

“If you had been, hypothetically, that is, would you have taken it?”

Sam’s mouth turned down, and he slowly turned to Zemo.

“No.”

“No hesitation, that’s impressive.”

You got up from the table, making a round so you could watch Zemo’s face as he spoke. He’d seen you usher Karli Morgenthau out of the factory basement, and you wondered what he had made of your actions.

“Sam, you can’t hold out hope for Karli.” His eyes met yours as he said that, and you looked away, circling a pillar and walking to be on the other side of the couch, by his feet. “No matter what you saw in her, she’s gone.”

You sighed. “You talk in absolutes. People aren’t like that, Zemo.”

He studied you again.

“And we cannot allow that she and her acolytes become yet another faction of gods amongst people. Super Soldiers cannot be allowed to exist.”

Zemo spoke with such conviction that you were sure you’d be also be harboring a bullet if he knew who, and what, you were.

“Isn’t that how gods talk? And if that’s how you feel, what about Bucky?” Sam’s eyes flitted to you, and you offered him a tight smile. “Blood isn’t always the solution.”

When Steve had talked to you about handing over the shield for the first time you were doubtful. He was grieving the loss of his own time – your time, too – and second-guessing his own claim to it.

You never stopped believing in Steve when he did. You and Bucky were war. Steve was… the end of it. And not just because of the serum. He was that since you all were small and scrawny, him a little scrawnier and a little smaller, as he stopped you and Bucky from butting heads.

For Steve, you, and Bucky as well, that shield meant everything. It meant the salvation of the world from true evil, that in the 1940’s was personified in the form of a little man with a moustache. Whoever carried it carried the responsibility of being the harbinger of that freedom. Of relief, justice, and most of all... hope.

So when Steve talked to you about handing over the shield a second time, this time to capable hands instead of a glass dome, you understood – it was time to pass the mantle to someone who was, indeed, a new beacon of hope.

Safe to say, the fact that John Walker now carried the shield you put so much importance into felt wrong.

“Something’s not right about Walker.” Bucky strolled in, seemingly in a sour mood. You chuckled, and watched as he discarded his things on the counter.

“You don’t say.”

“Well, I know a crazy when I see one. Because I am crazy.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Sam quipped, and you patted his shoulder affectionately when you walked past him to get Bucky to make you a drink too.

You swiped his jacket off the counter and hanged it neatly on the back of one of the barstools. Bucky licked his lips and shook his head as you mouthed ragamuffin at him.

“Pour me one.”

“Can you hold your liquor now, sugar?”

You narrowed your eyes at him and grabbed the glass he had fixed for himself.

“Now you pour yourself one.” You took a sip, smiling into the glass.

Bucky glared at Sam. “Shouldn’t have given him the shield.”

You shot Bucky a disapproving look. He raised his eyes briefly at you while pouring his drink, and shrugged.

“Buck—”

“I didn’t give him the shield.”

“Well Steve definitely didn’t.”

“James Barnes!” Goddamn Bucky and his hard-headed self.

Bucky looked at you like he used to look at his mother, wide eyed, like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. It only lasted for a second, his bewilderment falling into a scowl right after. Behind you, Sam chuckled.

You shook your head at Bucky, but you had no time to fall into an argument. The one and only John Walker and Lemar Hoskins were bursting in, demanding to take Zemo. Ordering, really.

“Hey, slow your roll.”  Sam said firmly. “Man, let’s be clear. Shield or no shield, the only thing you’re runnin’ in here is your mouth.”

You bottomed up your whiskey, knowing whatever was to come couldn’t be good.

“Now, I had Karli and you overstepped. He’s actually proven himself useful today. And we’re gonna need all hands on deck for whatever’s coming next.”

Walker challenged Sam next. He looked eager and ready for a fight, and as much as you’d loved to keep your real abilities hidden, you figured your time out of the spotlight was running out. Bucky looked at you from the corner of his eye, relaxed stance contrasting with the tightness of his jaw. Zemo paced behind Sam, still clutching his own drink.

The moment Walker put down the shield an iron spear cut the air and lodged itself into the pilaster, separating him and Sam.

No, not iron. Vibranium.

The Dora Milaje.

“Even if he is a means to your end… Time’s up.” Ayo announced in Xhosa. You grimaced.

You sighed heavily when John decides to one-up them, too. Ayo swings the spear at his arm when he touches his shoulder and a fight breaks out. You reached for the liquor again.

There wasn’t enough alcohol in the world.

The fight was only Walker and Hoskins getting absolutely overpowered by the warriors while you, Bucky, Sam and Zemo stayed out of it.

“We should do something.”

You swirled your drink, taking a small sip. “I am. I’m observing.”

“Looking strong, John!” Bucky shouted, making you have to hide a snort. Sam exhaled heavily.

“Such a diplomat, you. Bucky…”

“I’m a lot of things, Samuel.” You shrugged, but finished your drink anyways and hiked up your sleeves.

You, Bucky and Sam all ran to take one of the Doras each. As one kicked Hoskins to the couch you stepped in front of him, blocking the hit of her spear with your forearm.

You met her eyes and tilted your head apologetically. When she raised her weapon again you twisted your body and landed a back kick to her middle.

She staggered back a couple of steps but was back at you in an instant.

Hit. Block. Kick. Another hit to your shoulder.

Even if the fight was fairly balanced, Super Soldier against Dora Milaje, you knew you had a slim chance of actually winning. You hadn’t been in a fight in years, much less with someone this capable and trained.

After blocking another of your strikes with her spear, she hit the side of your left knee. It’s your bad one.

East Berlin, 1987. You had been undercover for nearly two weeks now, tracking a lead about the existence of a HYDRA lab that was conducting experiments with new Super Soldiers.

The wind that cut through the rooftop of the building you stood on testing the very limits of the overcoat you wore on top of your tactical suit.  So damn cold. You tried not to dwell on how frigid your toes were inside of your boots, instead concentrating on watching the sun slip behind the skyline.

You were waiting on a man that would give you the next lead. Intel said he would be there before you, but he wasn’t when you got there. 10 minutes had gone past the accorded meeting time, and you were starting to think that no one was coming.

A bullet ricocheted on the concrete pillar you were stood behind, and you realized why S.H.I.E.L.D.’s contact was running late. You grabbed your own pistol, still hidden by the concrete, and peeked in the direction the shot had come from.

A man and a woman, in full leather. You saw the red star etched on their left arms as they marched towards you. HYDRA.

You had two exit options, one that was across the rooftop or jumping down into River Spree. Either way, you’d have to deal with the two HYDRA agents that approached you.

You ran to another pillar, shooting at them. You hit the woman on the leg, and she buckled down. Her counterpart didn’t even spare her a look, continuing his way to you. You kept shooting, missing a few and landing the rest on the both of them, the guy barely flinching.

You didn’t understand why he wasn’t using his own gun. Maybe he didn’t feel the need for one.

There was no time for thinking. The man was onto you; swatting your gun away, blocking your punch, hitting your chest. You crashed into concrete.

The woman joined in, landing a hard blow to the side of your skull. Your eyes widened. They were just as strong as you.

Super Soldiers.

You crawled away from them, hand swatting at your leg for your knife. It landed in the woman’s throat with a squelch. One down.

The man was much stronger it seemed, you barely able to keep the fight balanced even with another of your knives. You cut and ripped, but it was like your blade was a feather on his skin.

He backed you up until the edge of the building. You could see the river below.

You groaned when he headbutted you, and you go stumbling down. The blood was hot against your face and metallic on your lips.

He stomped on your knee. Again. And again. You choked on your own agony.

His voice was all you heard before he kicked you off the ledge. You plunged into the freezing air.

Hail HYDRA.

Familiar pain laced through you, making your hairs stand on end. You cried out, nearly tumbling straight to the ground.

The clank of metal hitting the ground and a spear shot at the direction of the shield ended the fight. Bucky’s vibranium arm laid limp and detached on the ground, his expression even more perplexed than when you had scolded him earlier.

You straightened yourself up as the pain subsided. Ayo opened the doors to an empty bathroom.

Zemo. He has slipped right through your fingers while you were busy defending John Walker’s ass from the Dora Milaje.

You helped Sam to his feet as they were leaving, Ayo giving you one last stern look before leading the way out. It felt like a reminder of a debt.

“Did you know they could do that?” Sam said, looking at a limbless Bucky. The arm seemed to snap back into the right place, thank goodness for that. A failsafe, then.

“No.” Bucky rotated his arm, an indecipherable expression on his face, even for your standards.

The room was filled with tension as the three of you gathered yourselves again and John Walker sat defeated on the ground, with only Lemar to check up on him. You walked past them to get inside the bathroom, frowning at the drainage hole Zemo had made his escape through.

“I can’t believe he pulled an El Chapo,” Sam murmured.

“I can.” Bucky clenched his jaw. “Come on.”

Bucky led you through the backstreet and to the back of the building, though you weren’t sure exactly what you were looking for. A lead, maybe, but neither of you knew if Zemo had made his way all the way to the underground or escaped to the streets once he was out.

“You okay? You got hit pretty bad back there.” Sam said, looking at you. You all had taken a decent beating, but the hit to your leg had taken you by surprise. Bucky frowned.

“I’m good.” Bucky frowned deeper, and you shook your head at him, clapping Sam on the shoulder. “I got a bad knee, it’s all. Replacement cap and everything.”

Sam laughed.

“You’re 106 and have a prosthetic kneecap? Wow, you’re starting to sound your age.”

“You know what, Wilson? I think you should respect your elders.”

Sam raised his hands, still laughing. “Okay, okay. But only ‘cause I saw you kicking ass back there. Girl, where the hell have you been?”

Bucky grumbled something, and threw an arm around your shoulders.

“Retired.”

You patted his cheek lovingly, and laughed a little when you caught him fighting a smile. Sam got ahead of you, sending you a look of mischief and wiggling his eyebrows.

You urged Bucky forward, earning a huff from him as you got to Sam’s side.

Compartmentalizing was necessary. Zemo was on the loose, Walker was verging on unhinged, and there was still Karli to deal with. Whatever was going on with you and Bucky – and the insistent feeling that tugged on your heartstrings whenever you looked at him – would have to wait.

You listened to Sam’s conversation on the phone, his tone growing more concerned at every pause. Sarah. Overnight bag. Take the boys.

“What happened?” Bucky asked and you slipped from under his arm.

“Karli called Sarah. She threatened my nephews.”

Shit.

“Sam, I got a safehouse in New Orleans.” You said once he hung up. He nodded at you, and you took his phone to get his sister’s contact.

Karli was entering dangerous territory. Before, you considered her a fighter on a rightful cause, but as if predicted by Zemo, she was escalating. You feared that it was a fight you couldn’t let her win, or run free.

“Karli wants to meet. She left a contact number.” Sam’s phone chimed. “She said come alone.”

“I’m comin’ with you.” Bucky looked at you. “We are.”

“Let’s gear up, boys.”

---

You were grateful you had kept your old tactical suit inside your closet for a rainy day.

The suit was carbon black, except for the blue-grey Kevlar plating on your chest, back and upper legs. It had a faint resemblance to an armor, and the amount of impact it could absorb made you protected and difficult to take down. You completed your gear with your trusty boots and hidden knives.

Sam had changed into his wings and Bucky into his peculiar one-armed leathers.

“Damn, you look cool.”

A laugh escaped your lips. “So do you, Sam.”

Bucky cleared his throat. “We should go.”

The sky was cloudy and the air dry, and still you could feel a storm coming. You walked into the empty building, you and Bucky tailing Sam.

“Karli!”

The redhead revealed herself, standing on the second floor. Sam went to talk to her, leaving you to watch them from a distance.

Karli looked at you and Bucky there, her eyes lingering on you for a few seconds more. You realized how menacing you must have looked, the three of you in full gear, and you wondered if Bucky felt as strange about your rigid stance as you did about his.

The two of you really had changed.

“I was gonna ask you to join me. Or do the world a favor and let me go.”

If only things were that easy.

Sam looked at the screen on his wrist and turned to you in alarm.

“It’s Walker.”

A trap. Bucky was the first to leap to the ground, colliding with Karli in the process. You and Sam landed at the same time, and you hoisted Bucky up while Sam clashed with the girl.

He sent Karli to the ground with a flying kick.

“I’ll send you the location, go!”

You and Bucky leapt into the street and broke into a fast sprint as Sam took off.

“You’re fast!”

You looked to your side at Bucky, smirking. He was just a little behind you.

“I’m lighter!”

“No fair!”

“You have a metal arm!”

Bucky led you to the location Sam had sent him. Riga had plenty of empty buildings, it seemed. You were running up the stairs when a Flag Smasher jumped on you, then another on Bucky.

The guy and you dragged yourselves all the way to the top, exchanging punches. You saw his eyes widen under the mask when you landed a boot on his chest and he went flying backwards.

Taking the free time you had bought yourself, you searched for Bucky below you. As soon as you found him the Flag Smasher tackled you, hoisting your body up. You hit his shoulder blade with your elbow and he bumped into the railing, quickly turning and hanging you over the edge.

“Y/N!”

Bucky was upside down. No, that was you.

He reached for you as the other Flag Smasher had him locked in a rear choke.

“I’ve got this!”

Tightening your legs around the man, you let yourself fall, taking him with you. You crash at the bottom of the building.

“You said you had this!”

Bucky jumped to your level.

“I do!”

You stared at his scowl for a brief second before roundhouse kicking your foe and finally putting him down.

Bucky returned to you after dealing with his own Flag Smasher. He looked furious.

“You’re so fucking reckless!”

Oh, Jesus H. Christ. You couldn’t believe Bucky, wanting to argue.

“I am fine! It wasn’t that high.” You huffed. “We have no time for this, James. Let’s go.”

You ran to the top of the building, Bucky trailing behind you. He caught a flying knife right before it lodged itself on your face. He glowered at you as if to say you don’t got this.

Not sparing him a response, you busy yourself with fighting another of the Flag Smashers, this time a woman. It was like all you needed was a little warming up, because you’re clearly in advantage as you blocked her punches and grabbed her torso, slamming her into the ground next.

You looked up. John Walker was staring at you.

He didn’t have much time to dwell on whatever he saw, one of the men coming from behind and immobilizing him.

Karli screamed as she ran towards Walker. She was in it for the kill. Hoskins tackled her before she could do it. All you could make out was the blur of an altercation.

Lemar Hoskins slammed into a pillar with a crack.

Your stomach churned.

Everything stilled as Walker ran to his partner, desperately trying to get him to wake up. He slumped sideways, his head lolled down.

He was dead.

Karli and her group took advantage of the tumult and ran, her shooting one last look at the rest of you as they took off. You couldn’t let her get away this time, though, so you immediately go into pursuit.

You shot one look behind you, seeing Bucky and Sam follow you as you whizzed through the streets of Riga. You’re the first to get to the square, making your way to the middle of the crowd hastily.

Walker stoop upright, holding the shield over the body of one of the unmasked Flag Smashers.

It was broad daylight; there were dozens of people around you.

The city was silent.

He was dead.

[brawlingdiscontent]

the men of metal, menacing with golden face, 3/?

a.k.a sequel to terrible with the brightness of gold

(cherik fic, viking au, subtle a/b/o, mature rating)

(part one) (part two)

Hi all, I am so sorry for the space between these updates! - I am so close to finishing my PhD (not in any history or medieval studies field, lol) and things are just really hectic with revisions, publications and syllabi, etc.

A reminder that the last chapter (from 5000 years ago) ended with Charles being graphically/violently threatened by a mysterious man. (See the link above if you’d like to re-read it.

Warnings: Slightly gory description, mentions/implications of violence and sexual assault, child death (not Charles’ kids)

----

In the end, they don't set off that afternoon. 

It’s decided in a council, a strategy meeting that Charles is not invited to, and reported to him curtly by Lehnsherr later that day that if they start off early enough it’s only most of a day’s ride to Eoforowic, and is the preferable alternative to the vulnerability of camping overnight. 

He sees almost no one before the Danish king returns to the tent bearing an evening meal. 

The man in question has forgone the advisors and trailing pages, leaving his subordinates behind for the night, as no loud voices or other signs announce his arrival. The denizens of the camp are likely off savouring the hours of daylight that remain in varied nefarious ways.  The long summer nights are not yet over, but in the tent it’s darker, shadowed but not yet dim enough to warrant a candle or fat lamp. The canvas walls seem to glow faintly with the strange quality of early evening light.

Charles has arranged himself in a defensive position, seated at the small table on the lone chair facing the tent flap. He took advantage of his time alone to redistribute a number of the furs from the main pile, making the corner where he intends once again to sleep more comfortable and well-padded. Together with the extra things Alex brought him--when, under the watchful eyes of the guards, they risked exchanging only a nod to confirm his task’s success--he fashioned a warm berth for himself. His current placement, with its slight chill, is a tactical necessity. He straightens in the hard, wooden seat. It’s best to avoid being caught in a prone position lest Lehnsherr take it as an invitation. 

When he enters, Lehsherr carries in two rough-hewn, steaming wooden bowls balanced atop an extra stool. 

“You must be hungry.” 

Charles scans him for ulterior motives, finding none for now. He hasn’t eaten since the food that was left for him this morning, but can’t seem to muster up much of an appetite. 

“Yes. Thank you,” he says anyway. He needs to keep his strength up. 

Lehnsherr sets the bowls on the small table, nudging one slightly towards Charles, and the stool beside it. He then turns away, once again going through the routine of divesting himself of his gear. If he notices or has any feelings about Charles’ rearrangement of his space he says nothing, leaving Charles to return to his own thoughts.

That afternoon, after the monstrous man retreated, slinking off to some other part of the camp while Charles stood shaken, Charles’ guards had suddenly and conspicuously reappeared.

As he was escorted back to Lehnsherr’s tent, Charles had, briefly, turned over the possibility of telling him what happened. Of what could be construed as nothing other than a violent threat. But the man hadn’t actually done anything, hadn’t even touched Charles. And what, even, were the chances that Lehnsherr would believe him—or that he would care? In any case what exactly could he expect the Dane to do? The bear-man, whoever he is, must be powerful, as he contrived some way—whether by bribery or sheer command—to send the guards away from their positions outside the tent. 

—Or, the thought had occurred to him, both disturbing and the most plausible yet, perhaps Lehnsherr had sent the man to threaten him, to warn him off and keep him in line. It is this possibility that is nearest in his mind as Lehnsherr wanders the tent.

“I trust you found your men well?” Lehnsherr questions, not turning from where he is folding his gambeson.

Charles contemplates several responses. Acerbic: ‘Alive would be a more accurate understanding.’ Another part of him wants to respond in anger, Logan’s blackened eye, the morning’s events, urging him to confront and accuse Lehnsherr. It’s an urge he knows is at least partly the product of fear. He presses his palms flat against the wood of the table and feels its uneven surface press back. In the end, exhausted, and unwilling to cause a fuss, he settles on, “I did,” then turns towards the bowl before him.

The food is hot, rabbit this time. Likely commandeered from one of the many the braziers and fire pits that dot the camp as he doubts Lehnsherr has had time for hunting. It is good, and Charles feels some appetite flare again, even when Lehnsherr has divested enough weapons and layers and joins him at the table.

A silence falls between them, not exactly awkward, but not quite comfortable either. On Charles’ end, it stems from reservation. Lehnsherr, conversely, seems content not to speak.

Charles steals surreptitious glances between bites. He studies the lines of the other man’s face trying to puzzle him out as the shadows in the tent begin to lengthen. 

He’s a man become even more confusing and inscrutable after the day’s events. If Lehnsherr had sent that beast of a man to threaten him in place of doing so himself, it speaks to a capacity for sophisticated psychological manipulation, one that goes beyond and complicates his reputation for sheer brutality. For all of Charles’ careful planning he hadn’t seriously considered the possibility that Lehnsherr might be worse than Shaw. He needs to know who he’s—getting into bed with, his mind supplies—getting involved with. Only then can he have any hope to defend himself. For who can say what will happen to whatever appeal he has—the tenuous sexual hold that had checked Lehnsherr the night before—once Lehnsherr finally gets what he wants and is sated. What then can Charles possibly do to hold him back, should he prove monstrous? 

He must have been more transparent in his observation than he realized, an act which once again is misinterpreted. 

“Relax, your Highness.” Lehnsherr says.  “I’ll honour your wish to wait. I won’t touch you.”  

“Until we are married,” Charles says aloud if only to remind himself, tracking with his eyes the slow advance of a line of shadow across the table.

“Until we are married,” Lehnsherr agrees, his voice carrying notes of something that has Charles turning back studiously to his food to avoid analyzing.

...

The sun is just ghosting above the horizon when they assemble to head off the next morning, gently bathing the plain in its orange-red glow. There’s a morning chill carried in the wind that batters at Charles’ cheeks. It wipes away the bleariness of the early hour, and makes him glad that extra furs were among the items that he’d requested Alex fetch. And yet the last edges of summer are holding on; it’s nothing compared to the winter they’ll face once the seasons change and even the memories of warmth fade.

Lehnsherr had woken him just before dawn, and they’d had a hurried breakfast in the tent by the light of a flickering taper. More of the flat, dry bread and some of the season’s last berries, foraged from a nearby bush.

They’ll be going overland to Eoforwic. It’s the slower route than sailing up the coast, which tells Charles that either Lehnsherr doesn’t want their journey observed or reported, or that he’s uncertain of what awaits them in Eoforwic.

Scanning the group, Charles counts about fifty gathered, all told. Enough to defend themselves if it came down to it, but still a small enough party to travel relatively unobtrusively. 

His horse gives a restless shuffle, tugging gently on the reins in his hands. A nobleman's former mount, certainly. Fine little features stand out in the saddle, tack, and gear. The rivets in the saddle bags are detailed in a star motif, points radiating out in blades of light, as only the very wealthy could afford. It was probably scavenged from its slain owner, or, optimistically, was given up by a defeated city relinquishing its riches. Londres had given up several hundred horses in the surrender.  

Lehnsherr, who’d gone off on an unnamed errand after seeing Charles matched with a horse, approaches once more. He’s leading not only a horse of his own, but a woman. Charles recognizes her dark eyes and small stature from the previous morning. 

“Charles,” Lehnsherr says without ceremony, “this is Angel. She’s here to assist you.”

He looks back over at her, as she returns his gaze placidly. Assist him? The road, travelling rough as they are, is no place for an attendant. Then, focusing on her smooth expression, it all clicks into place.

Assist him. Ha. More like spy on him. He quickly re-assesses the meeting he interrupted yesterday as an intelligence report. Interesting. Sebastian, with his more traditionalist views, would likely not have thought to assign such a job to a beta or omega woman. 

He manages, “a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Angel.” It’s a lie, of course, but Charles was raised with manners, and she can’t help the assignment she's been tasked with. While Charles is fairly confident in his charm,  Angel proves just as enigmatic as her commander, offering merely a hint of a smile and a raised eyebrow before turning to see to her own mount.

With eyes on him secured, Lehnsherr seems relatively content to leave him alone, as he heads up towards the front of the column to rally the troops.

They set off, and Charles easily falls towards the back of the group, ghosted by Angel. If he had any remaining doubts about her occupation, they dissipate after watching her subte, silent moments, even on horseback.

Travelling en masse, they alternate bursts of speed with walking breaks to keep a sustainable pace for the horses.

He is content to pass the first canter course just relishing the abandon of the pace, the uneven terrain below the horses’ hooves. The sun gradually climbs higher until he can feel the warmth of it on his hair, and the wind blows across his face. He basks in the experience of being out in the open, running wild (if not free) after six months of siege. 

The dusty roadside is lined here and there with dots of blue chicory, long stems stretching up tenaciously towards the sky. A flock of chaffinches, startled by their appearance, burst in flight. His spy, Angel, seems to have melted away into the group, perhaps prefering to operate in her usual mode when her targets don’t know she’s there. It is tempting to forget the circumstances and enjoy the moment. 

But Charles is too pragmatic, hardened by bitter experience underlined by recent events, to let this lapse in Lehnsherr’s attention (Angel aside) go to waste.

In the first walking break, he looks around at the stragglers in the second half of the party for promising targets of some reconnaissance of his own. Just ahead and to his left are two burly men engaged in animated discussion. Inching subtly closer, he’s disappointed but not surprised to find that they’re speaking Danish. He has so little of the language, certainly not enough to make reliable sense of their discussion, but at the least perhaps listening might improve his facility. He listens amongst the glottal phrases for repeated sounds he might begin to decipher.

“It’s a blunt-tongued language, isn’t it?” a warm voice addresses Charles from slightly behind.

He starts and turns his body in the direction of the sound—as pleased to hear the softer tones of Saxon as he is startled at the sudden intrusion—to find another rider approaching on his right.

He’s a young man, a little younger than Charles from appearances, and clothed in unusual attire. A flat sort of cap, fashioned from a vibrant dark red material, adorns his head. His tunic, where it peeks through his furs, is woven of rich fabric: not over-ornamented, but of a quality far surpassing the coarse weaves and eclectic dress of the surrounding men. He carries himself with a cool confidence, perched lightly on his saddle, relaxed and much more poised than any other of Lehnsherr’s men.

Charles pulls gently at the reins, slowing his horse’s pace to allow the other man to draw even with him. 

Even as he takes him in, the clothing stirs a memory at the back of his mind of a childhood long ago; Muslim traders at the Norman court. The memory is an old one; Sebastian’s kingdom was an insular one and didn’t get on with outsiders, let alone cultured guests from the learned centres of the world. 

“Forgive me for startling you, Your Highness,” the man says. Despite Charles’ deliberate choice to leave his circlet behind at the tent, it seems that Lehnsherr’s scene in the banquet hall the other night has left him no chance of anonymity.

“That’s quite alright. Though, you seem to have me at a disadvantage.”

“The name’s Armando, sir.”

“Armando.” He says, rolling the name around in his mouth. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” It's the second time today he’s offered these words, but he finds he can be more sincere with them when not faced with a spy. “And what is your role here?” He’s a figure somewhat misplaced among the rough-and-tumble Danes. 

“I’m a physician. Born in Cordoba, and trained in Alexandria.” 

A frisson of excitement runs through Charles at this announcement. “You speak Saxon very well for an Andalusian. Better than myself, and I’ve been speaking it almost since birth.” 

“Thank you. Once I had the first few, the next languages came easily enough.” He switches into Norman for the second part of explanation to demonstrate.

“How many others do you speak?” 

“Fluently? I’d say seven--maybe eight.” He cracks a broad, warm smile at Charles’ astonishment. “What can I say? I’m adaptive.” 

Mindful of his spy close at hand, Charles yet can’t hide his delight to be in the company of a fellow seeker in the pursuit of knowledge, one with personal experience of the madrasas of the learned world at that. Despite this, he tries to rein himself in before his enthusiasm overwhelms his caution. After all, no matter how much he may seem a kindred spirit, he doesn’t know Armando nor his agenda. And, after seeing firsthand the danger that lurks in the camp, he’d be a fool to count himself safe. 

They settle into a comfortable rhythm. It’s in the next walking break that Charles, between probing questions about the scientific and medical developments out of Baghdad, catches sight of a head above the crowd. His heart stutters, and he almost jerks on the reins impulsively. Riding up at the front, near Lehnsherr, but a bit off to the side. He’s easy to spot, rising nearly head-and-shoulders above the men surrounding him, stature and bearskin robe unmistakable.

“Armando, what can you tell me about that man?”

Armando follows his gaze to the front of the party, and when he sees the man to whom Charles refers seems to hesitate. 

“He goes by the name of Sabretooth. He leads one of the strongest factions among the Danish warriors.” He pauses so long that Charles thinks he might have to prompt again, before continuing. “He and his supporters are known for their unyielding savagery in battle. I’ve only ever seen the aftermath.” Armando looks towards the riders at the front, squinting into the midday sun at the outline of the man in question. His words seem improbably incongruous in the brightness of the day. “Going into battle they consume a potion to free them of inhibitions and drive away all traces of remorse. Many of his followers file their teeth, supposedly to more easily rend the flesh of their enemies. Except Sabretooth himself who they say likes the challenge of a duller edge.” 

Charles masks his disquiet with a wry remark. “No doubt a firm favourite of his Grace.” He had heard tell of such stories, whispers of viking cannibals, but had always assumed them to be over-inflations of reality. 

“You’re wrong about that, actually.” 

He looks back over, surprised. 

“I have the sense—mind you, this is just my perception—that His Grace dislikes him very much.”

Charles thinks on this. Armando’s explanation would seem to square with the disagreement he witnessed back at the camp. Furthermore, the man—Sabretooth—seems prone to unpredictable violence, of a sort that might irk someone as careful and controlled as Lehnsherr. And yet—

“If that's the case, why invite him on such a party?

Armando takes a moment to respond, looking between the two riders up ahead. “There’s a common saying in Alexandria. It translates roughly to: a wise man holds his enemies close to his breast but far from his heart.”  

Charles nods in agreement as he notes the appropriateness of it, thinking of the justification he had used to convince Lehnsherr to take him along even as he once again reconfigures his knowledge of the man. He, too, is an enemy Lehnsherr has held close. But before he can take the train of thought much further, the low blast of a horn signals the return to a canter, and it’s lost in the clatter of advancing hooves.

…

In the late afternoon, the first sign of smoke on the horizon alerts them. It curls above the treetops a little ways off the road. Too dense and heavy to be from a cooking fire. 

The nearby homestead is set back from the road, but after the party halts at another horn blast a few riders break away from the pack in its direction. Charles pulls his horse past the crowd of remaining men and follows after them.

It’s a desolate scene. What was formerly a cottage now smouldering ashes but for the charred edges of a door frame still standing. The field of crops outside is churned up and scattered. Crushed stalks of barley that were trodden under horses’ hooves are beaten into the mud. A handful of slaughtered animals lie along the path. But what is most evident is the woman crouched in front of the remains of the house, keening in grief. Her ragged dress is torn, at her side a small child with a soot in their hair and clothes.

Lehnsherr has already dismounted, handed off his reins to another rider in order to survey the scene. Charles follows suit without a thought, and once he gets closer, it unfolds before him tragic inevitability.

He sees the dead man lying a few feet away from the woman and child, his grotesquely splayed body telling the story of his violent end. Then, clutched in the woman’s arms, a boy. A mere child, perhaps thirteen summers. His small eyes are closed almost peacefully, his forehead smeared with clotted blood. 

Armando, who has followed Charles from the road, is quick to be rallied to aid. 

Insensible in grief, the woman seems to barely register their presence as they cautiously approach. The young child, likely too small to comprehend the events that have taken place, tugs on her dress to get her attention, until she at last looks up at them. Her gaze is empty as one beyond reach, already crossed over to the next world.

It strikes Charles deeply, who freezes, feeling her disconnection mirrored in his own. Dissociation is a strategy he’s used to make himself hard, hiding his emotions in a fortress to protect them from a scene that has and will continue to play out countless times across the countryside. Recognizing it now in this woman, he’s struck by its haunting unnaturalness, the hollowness it invokes.

Armando, who had gently nudged the woman aside to conduct an examination, looks up and shakes his head. 

The young child shrieks suddenly, drawing back and cowering behind their mother, who, past caring, doesn’t noticeably react. The cause is soon clear: having finished attentively examining the scene and damage, Lehnsherr is making his way over. To his credit, in response to the child’s dismay he slows his approach and spreads his hands wide in the universal symbol of non-aggression. It’s the only reason that Charles makes no move to stop him as he nears the woman and child, and crouches down.

Charles watches as he starts a conversation in Saxon, gently asking a question or two. He thinks he hears Lehnsherr quietly mutter a few words following the woman’s stilted responses. Then the man pulls an aged leather drawstring pouch from somewhere on his person, and produces several small, glinting coins which he hands to the woman.

A weregild.

Blood price for so much death and evil, paid for with some mere pieces of metal. He rails internally at his own impotence, safe behind a palace wall while people are suffering; dying. And at the authors of the violence, as Lehnsherr’s actions here have surely confirmed, the very men he rides with. 

He’s overwhelmed by a helpless rage that washes over him like a tide. 

“A few coins” the words come out flat, subdued. “Do you think they can repair the loss of a husband, bring back her child?” It’s an accusation but empty, anger deserting him as quickly as it arrived for a dull hopelessness. 

Lehnsherr turns to him, delayed. His gaze is a bit distant, as though he’d forgotten Charles was there.

“It will bring them food,” he says levelly, “buy them shelter for the winter. Nothing can bring back the dead.”

Charles stands there for an indeterminable span of time, consumed by the endless cruelties of men. By this tangible reminder of the pain caused and lives lost to men—no, not men, beasts, seeking only personal glory, an enrichment of power.

“You generals and your wars,” he says coldly and turns away, the smoke still stinging in his eyes.

[kissinginkitchens]

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Eleven: Water Under the Bridge (Finale)

a/n: welcome back my loves <3 It’s so weird to think that this is the final chapter of YBMH and I’m definitely having a lot of feelings about it (denial, mostly). I want to say a huge thank you from the very bottom of my heart for sticking with this story and these characters that I love so much. I’ve had the most fun over the past few months talking to some of you and hearing your thoughts; I cherish it more than you’ll ever know. With all of that said, I’m going to miss this era so so much but I would still love to hear from you lovelies, so please feel free to drop by my inbox and let me know what you thought of this series!! Feedback, criticism, all of it is welcome :) Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai’i!Harry x Original Character (Halani <3)

Warnings: swearing, angst

Word Count: 6.7k

catch up on parts one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, and ten

January, 2018

A strand of hair tickles Harry’s nose and his eyes flutter open. The faint sound of car horns and traffic outside reminds him of his location when his memory fails. He gently slips out of the bed and tiptoes over to the window, careful not to wake the girl sleeping soundly next to him. A thick layer of snow blankets every building and surface in New York City as far as the eye can see, and the grey sky above signals another storm on its way. 

I’m going to die of hypothermia, Alani shivers, nursing her steaming cup of tea as she walks away from the office window and takes a seat behind her desk. Even after living in the city for a year, she still hadn’t adjusted to the cold weather and feared that she never would. Her boyfriend had joked on numerous occasions that you can take the girl out of the island, but you can’t take the island out of the girl. 

“Vanessa’s on line three,” her assistant calls from the doorway. 

“Thanks,” Alani nods before bringing the phone to her ear. “So, what did you think?”

“It was brilliant,” the editor admits. “Insightful, witty. I think they’ll love it,”

Alani smiles and spins in her seat to face the window again. “St. James has been on my ass about this piece for weeks. I hope it’ll shut him up,”

“It will, trust me. Hey, I gotta go, but I sent the revision notes and we can discuss more later,”

“Great, thank you so much. See you at dinner,”

“Ta-ta.”

Alani reaches for a pen and scribbles a reminder onto a pink post-it note nearby. 

Bloody five-star hotel, you’d think they could afford decent pens.  Harry grumbles to himself, shaking the ballpoint to no avail. 

“Where are you going?”

Harry freezes in his tracks and turns to the brunette stretching out her tired limbs. He has to clear his throat to keep from saying the wrong name. 

“Just a quick walk,” he explains with a tight lipped smile. “Go back to bed.” 

She flashes a wide grin and snuggles back into the covers, but he secretly hopes that she’s gone by the time he returns. 

The snow crunches under Harry’s feet and he digs his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat. He had never been very fond of the cold, but he did have to admit that Central Park looked unbelievably beautiful in the winter. His phone buzzes inside his pocket and he digs it out to read the message. 

Mitch: Me and Sarah are going to Bisous in ten. Meet us?

Harry: See you there. 

********

“French is such a pretentious language,” Maleah scoffs, taking a bite of her pastry. “But I’ll be damned if I have to give up my chocolate croissants,”

Alani chuckles lightly and traces the restaurant’s logo of a red kiss printed on her napkin. Going to Bisous at least once a day had become a tradition during her best friend’s visits. 

“I’ll have to smuggle a real one back for you and then you can tell me if this one’s the real deal,”

“When are you going, again?”

“Next month,”  

Maleah wiggles her brows. “Oooh, Valentine’s Day? Are you taking Mason with you?”

“No,” Alani says casually. “It’s for work,”

“Well, who says you can’t mix business and pleasure?”

“Literally everyone.”

“Okay,” Maleah sighs, patting her full stomach. “Let’s go now before I get sleepy.”

The two friends make their way out of the busy restaurant and Alani’s shoulder brushes someone next to her. 

“Sorry.” she apologizes, making brief eye contact with the other person before doing a double take. 

Mitch purses his lips and turns his head back to the other girl at his arm while Maleah drags Alani out the door. 

********

“I mean, what the hell was that? I could barely keep my drum kit together,” Sarah laughs gently, sipping her coffee. 

“Cause of death: rocking too fucking hard,” Mitch shrugs. “There are worse ways to die,”

Harry stirs his black coffee with a spoon and watches the mini whirlpool grow. “Rob said you could feel it in the balcony, too,”

“I’m surprised you didn’t die,” Mitch pokes. “Mr. defective lungs,”

“Heyyy, I can’t help the asthma thing, alright?”

“Well it’s the last night,” Sarah chimes in. “Are we gonna try to beat the Kiwi record and go for four times in a row?”

Harry shrugs, a soft grin on his lips. “Dunno. Maybe if it feels right,”

“I say we cut out the middleman and just bulldoze MSG ourselves. What difference does it make if the fans tear the house down or if we do?” Mitch suggests. 

“Oh yeah,” Harry nods. “I’m sure Irving would love that.”

“Some food for thought.”

The trio finish their breakfasts and excitedly continue their conversations about the impending show, but the entire time, Mitch is haunted by the knowledge of Alani’s presence in the city. He debates telling Harry, but is suddenly reminded of the intense aftermath of the pair’s falling out. 

********

“Where’s Alani?”

“Don’t fuckin’ say that name to me ever again.” 

Mitch’s brow furrowed. “What’s going on?”

And with a simple question, anger had subsided into grief. Mitch still didn’t  know all of the details surrounding their split, but he had pieced together sufficient bits from Jeff and, in part, from the lyrics Harry penned in the following weeks. The slump had lasted through the fall and winter of that year, but as spring rolled around and the album’s release drew closer, Harry pulled himself together enough to promote and tour. It felt good to be on the road, and he found himself revitalized by the energy of those who came to support. Tour itself had been relatively intimate, as he had actively decided to play smaller venues than the sold out stadiums he was accustomed to, but the enthusiasm of the crowds hadn’t changed from his band days. As Harry occupied his attention with music, Hawaii grew smaller and smaller in the back of his mind. Eventually, it dwindled into a dull ache at the center of his chest, felt only on particularly long nights coaxed with a little bit of alcohol in his bloodstream. For now, he tried to focus on his last show at Madison Square Garden. 

********

Alani’s stomach turns. Had she really seen Mitch or had it been a remarkable doppelgänger? She hoped it was the latter, knowing that if he really was in New York City, Harry wasn’t far behind. This was by no means the first time she had been reminded of her summer love turned sour, but it stung just as much every time. The first incident was last April when she turned on the T.V. only to find Harry performing one of his new songs on Saturday Night Live. It had resulted in the loss of her favorite mug as it shattered against the hardwood floor in her apartment. Since that day, Alani had seen his face on countless billboards in Times Square and habitually asked taxi drivers to change the radio station or turn it off entirely. After a while, she had gotten better at dealing with the sinking feeling whenever he was mentioned, it was easier to detach feelings for someone who lived on a screen. Running into Mitch, however, had blasted a hole straight through the fourth wall that Alani had erected,  and she knew that there was absolutely no way she could cope with a similar encounter from Harry. 

“Oh shit,” Maleah gasps softly, looking through the windshield at the hundreds of people lined up on the pavement outside of Madison Square Garden. 

“What?” Alani asks, head still spinning. 

Her best friend immediately turns to her with a nervous smile and shrugs. “Oh it’s nothing. Hey do I have something in my teeth?”

Alani glances out the window behind Maleah and her eyes bulge. “Woah, what’s happening there?”

“Oh it’s probably, like, Lady Gaga or something. Anyways, look at this random text I got the other day.”

But it wasn’t “Lady Gaga or something.” The marquee reads “Harry Styles—SOLD OUT” in bold lettering. Alani retches into her bag. 

********

“Oh, for fucks saaake!” Harry shouts playfully, the sound of his obscenities echoing throughout the large venue. 

Mitch and Adam chuckle beside him and continue setting up their equipment while Sarah offers a comedic “badum-tss” on her drum set. 

“Okay then at that point, stage lights will come down and it’s ‘Meet Me in the Hallway’,” the technical director speaks into his earpiece.

Harry nods and watches the screen behind him roll through the animation that will play during the song. 

“Alright, then it’s—”

“Wait,” Harry interjects over the mic. “Sorry, can we run it?”

“Run ‘Meet Me’?”

“Yeah,”

Mitch tenses listening to the conversation that filters through his own inner ear piece, but he continues fiddling with the strings of his guitar.  

“Running ‘Meet Me’,” the director affirms. “Sarah, stand by.”

Harry’s eyes dart over to Mitch and he nods as a sign to begin. The guitarist clears his throat and strums the opening chords. 

Meet me in the hallway 

“M’gonna go wait in the hall…”

Meet me in the hallway 

“Give you some space to think and then we’ll talk, yeah?”

I just left your bedroom 

“I never wanted to hurt you.”

Give me some morphine 

“I hope you got all the material you wanted.”

Is there any more to do?

“Please don’t go.”

Just let me know and I’ll be at the door, at the door

Hoping you'll come around

Just let me know I’ll be on the floor, on the floor 

Maybe we’ll work it out

********

“Maybe I shouldn’t go,” Maleah offers. “I can catch a return flight tomorrow,”

Alani sits up in her bed and shakes her head. “No, Mi, it’s okay. I’ll be fine,”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. It’s probably just a stomach bug or something,”

Maleah gives her friend a tight squeeze and pulls away to read her face. “Let me know if you need anything, I’ll come right back,”

“Thank you,” Alani says, forcing a smile. “I’m so sorry to put a damper on your last day.”

“Nah, there’s nothing to worry about. Feel better soon, Nani.”

The door closes softly and Alani burrows deeper into the covers. She tries to bury the emotion back under a lock and key, but a gentle sob fights its way up her chest. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, she cries, but maybe it was. Just as the sun rises and sets, so had Harry entered and exited her life, and maybe that’s exactly how it was meant to be. After all, Alani had gotten exactly what she wanted, hadn’t she? So why does it still hurt? 

The snow falls gently outside of her window, but the entire scene blurs into shades of white and grey behind her tears. It had snowed just like this on the day she moved to the city. Shortly after the article about Harry had been published by a small gossip site, Alani had contacted the publishers and threatened litigation if they didn’t take it down. Unsurprisingly, they had also been contacted by Columbia Records and thus, the piece was removed that same day. Despite the quick turnaround, Rolling Stone had caught wind of the storm brewing on social media and reached out to Alani a few days later. They had been impressed that the elusive Harry Styles granted her an interview, but they didn’t push the matter much further. Instead, they had offered her one piece of her choosing to prove herself. If the reviews were favorable, she would be given a regular contributor spot, unpaid of course. They would re-evaluate at the beginning of the new quarter and negotiate from there. When January of 2017 rolled around, Alani’s writing was making surprising waves in the Rolling Stone community, so she had been hired on as a junior writer and assistant to the Editor in Chief. The pay wasn’t great, but it was a leap in the right direction. 

Despite everything that had changed in a year, a string of random letters on a building that Alani passed a million times had brought her emotions right back to the day she had tried so hard to forget. Her phone buzzes under the covers and she reaches out a hand to locate it. Her editor’s name appears and she answers it quickly. 

“Hello?”

“Darling, hello! Where are you?”

“Oh my god,” Alani groans. “Vanessa I’m so sorry,”

“Is everything okay?”

Alani sits up and clears her throat. “I have food poisoning,”

“Christ, from where?”

“Bisous,”

Vanessa sighs. “Poor thing. Okay, no worries we’ll just reschedule,”

“I’m so sorry, I’ll make it up to you,”

“No need to be sorry, get some rest and we’ll catch up later!”

The call ends and Alani gawks at the time. 7:30 already?  She slumps back under the covers and sifts through her social media, wincing when she sees several of her friends posting about the line outside of Madison Square Garden. No, Alani decides sternly when the sudden urge to go stirs in the pit of her stomach, absolutely no fucking way. 

********

“10 minutes!”

Harry scans the crowd from the monitor backstage. He pinches his lower lip between his index finger and thumb as the nerves settle in. 

“The house is packed,” Jeff comments with a hand on the singer’s shoulder. “And there’s still a crowd outside,”

“We did it?”

“You did it,”

So why does it still hurt? 

“Thanks for everything,” Harry says, bringing his manager in for a hug. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

Jeff pats Harry on the back. “All in a day’s work for the dream team.”

Before heading out, Harry stops one of the crew members and asks if any of the guests on his list have arrived yet. Names are read off, friends from different inner circles over the years, but there’s one name in particular that isn’t called. He offers a thumbs up and a forced grin before making his way to the stage.

It always surprises the technical crew at every venue that Harry has specific lighting requests for the house. Performers had their individual preferences, this wasn’t unusual, but no one made a bigger deal about being able to see the crowd like Harry did. He enjoyed being able to see each person and connect with them, especially when performing an album that was as personal as this one. But in every sea he searched, one face was always missing. Tonight’s audience, much to his disappointment, was no different. 

The crowd cheers as “Sweet Creature” fades out and the lights on stage dim. More than half of the show has already gone by and they’ve reached the point that is always a little harder to get through. Harry takes a swig from his water bottle and clears his throat to fight the lump that forms. He breathes in deeply and “Meet Me in the Hallway” begins, but no matter how hard he tries to focus on the technical aspects of his performance, it’s nearly impossible not to get dragged back into the moment when the song was written. 

“I should go back,” 

“H, I don’t know if that’s such a good—”

“I have to go back.” 

And so he had. After two hours of pacing the airport lounge, Harry had jumped into an Uber and sped back to the hotel. It had taken another agonizing twenty minutes to explain his situation to the front desk workers and retrieve his old room key, but it was no use. He was too late. The bed was still unmade, but there was no sign of Alani save for the faint scent of Baby Honey and a gold necklace tucked away between the sheets. 

The flight back to the mainland had already departed by the time Harry stumbled through the hotel lobby, and there wouldn’t be another one for three more hours. In the meantime, he decided to get some fresh air and clear his mind, hoping all the while that he would find Alani at the edge of the beach waiting to run back into his arms. She never did, and he was left with all the words he wished he had said. 

I walked the streets all day 

Running with the thieves 

‘Cause you left me in the hallway 

Just take my pain away 

Just let me know and I’ll be at the door, at the door

Hoping you'll come around

Just let me know I’ll be on the floor, on the floor 

Maybe we’ll work it out

********

“Great show,” praises Rob Sheffield, author of one of Harry’s favorite books, Love is a Mix Tape. “Drummer’s incredible,”

Sarah beams and Harry flashes her a grin. “Thanks. It’s Sarah’s band, really. I’m just the frontman,”

“Well she kicked ass. All of you did, and I can tell by the way the floor was shaking that I’m not the only one who thought so.”

“Thank you so much, that means a lot.”

More guests filter in and congratulate Harry and the rest of the band, but while he sincerely appreciates all of the love, he can’t help the way his eyes flicker to the door every once in a while in the hope that someone else will straggle in. He slowly loses that hope when the room empties and the night drags on. 

********

This isn’t ethical, Alani chastises herself, this is wrong on every level and you’re gonna pay. She runs her fingers over the Rolling Stone press badge in her hand and stares at the marquee towering over her. What the fuck are you doing? 

“Excuse me!” Alani calls when she sees an employee slip through a side door. “Hi, I know I’m really late but I’m actually here with Rolling Stone,”

The blonde-haired woman blinks and scans over the badge with an unamused look on her face. 

“Nice try,”

“No, wait,” Alani begs. “I have to get in there, please—”

“You and every other girl within a twenty-five mile radius.”

Alani takes a deep breath and re-groups. “You don’t understand. I really need to get back there, I’m working on an important piece,”

As the struggle continues, another woman in stiletto heels exits through the side door with a clipboard in tow. 

“My name is Alani Hale, see? Please just—”

“Wait,” the woman with the clipboard intervenes. The name sounded strangely familiar, probably from the blacklist, in which case security would need to be notified. “What did you say your name was?”

Alani holds her badge out and swallows hard. “Alani Hale, junior writer for Rolling Stone.”

The woman checks through the blacklist but the name isn’t registered. She does a cursory glance over the V.I.P section and her finger lands on a note that reads “Mahealani ‘Alani’ Hale—Code Carolina: escort backstage and inform Mr. Styles immediately.”

“Follow me, please,”

Alani trails behind, doing her best to keep up with the long strides of the woman with the clipboard.

 “Marta to security, I have a Code Carolina,” she murmurs into her ear piece. “Repeat, I have a Code Carolina.”

Alani’s heart races as they zig-zag through the arena. Did Harry know that she was coming? Had Mitch told him that they saw each other at Bisous? The answer was no, Mitch hadn’t told and Harry didn’t know. He had only hoped. Unbeknownst to Alani, her name was printed on the Madison Square Garden list and on every list of every show in all the countries scheduled. Through Paris and all through Rome, Harry had looked for her face in the crowd and he dreamed that one day his efforts wouldn’t be in vain. 

“Wait here,” Marta instructs, leading Alani to a back room with mirrors, a couple of couches, and a clothing rack. “Someone will be with you shortly.”

Before she can ask any questions, Marta is gone and the sound of her heels echo down the hall. Alani takes a deep breath and her lungs are immediately filled with the familiar scent of vanilla. Her eyes carefully rake over the scene and land on a familiar white shirt hanging on the rack and the words “Enjoy Health, Eat Your Honey.”

“Thief,”

“I meant to return it.”

Alani spins on her heel and Harry stands with his fists shoved deep inside the pockets of his flared pants, eyes cast down at the floor. She tugs on the sleeves of her coat and offers a shy smile. 

“It’s okay, looked better on you anyway.”

A brief silence follows and they size each other up like it’s a gunfight, each waiting to see who will draw first. His hair is longer and curlier, Alani notices, chest and shoulders broader, too. But there’s a familiarity in his creased brow and in the heart shaped curve of his cupid’s bow. Harry does his own inventory; dark, almond shaped eyes, check. Round face, cinnamon skin, check and check. Her long, wavy locks are now shoulder length, but he’d recognize the scent of Baby Honey anywhere. The two are absorbed in their own silent assessments for a moment longer, but Alani quickly gets the urge to flee after she counts too many similarities between this Harry and the one that left her with a broken heart. 

“I should go,” she croaks, taking a step back. “I shouldn’t have come—”

“Why did you?” Harry asks earnestly. 

Alani tugs at a loose thread on her sleeve before crossing her arms. “Saw your name outside and got curious. For a while there, I started to think that maybe I imagined you,”

Harry doesn’t know what to do with the knowledge that he had haunted her as much as she had plagued him. He had spent so long believing that he meant nothing to her, but nevertheless, a part of him left room for her return. 

“You did, this is a hologram projection,”

Alani smiles and her shoulders relax at his humor. It really was him. 

“Did you enjoy—”

“I didn’t see the show—” they speak at the same time, eager words overlapping. 

“Oh,” Harry laughs softly. “You didn’t miss much,”

Alani shakes her head and takes a single step forward. “No, that’s not true. I’m sure it was amazing,”

Harry offers a coy grin, the shadow of a dimple on his left cheek. One hand emerges from his pocket and his knuckle brushes against the tip of his nose. Alani catches sight of the silver rose on his finger and she still remembers how it feels under the pad of her thumb. 

“Are you hungry?” he asks softly, pulling her from her reverie. 

“What?”

“Have dinner with me?”

Alani blinks, her throat suddenly dry. “Oh. Well I don’t know, I don’t wanna interrupt—”

“Never an interruption,” Harry assures her. 

She nods and he takes a step back. 

“M’gonna go change,” he explains. “I’ll just be a minute.”

“What, you don’t wear custom Marc Jacobs suits to dinner?” She teases. 

He grins, amused, and continues backing away towards the door before correcting her. “It’s Gucci.”

Alani rolls her eyes and he disappears into the hallway. 

When Harry reemerges in a beanie, puffy coat, and light wash denim jeans, he leads them through a series of tunnels and exits. 

“Where are we going?” Alani asks, bracing herself for the snow outside. 

“It’s a surprise.” he offers and she doesn’t fight him on it.

********

“We’re not eating here?” 

A soft smile falls on Harry’s lips. He hadn’t realized just how much he missed her incessant questioning. 

“No,”  he replies, opening the passenger door with one hand and passing her the bag that contains their dinner. “Too crowded,”

“Oh,” 

It made sense that Harry would want to keep a low profile and avoid any possible paparazzi sightings of the two of them, but it still felt strange to worry about such things after they had lived so carefree in Hawai’i. But that was then, and this was now, things had inevitably changed. 

“D’you wanna play some music?” Harry asks, settling behind the wheel. The parallels between this moment and their first excursion together make her chest tighten. 

“How about,” Alani starts. “Your album? Since I didn’t get to hear it live,”

Harry’s breathing hitches. “Well, I dunno—”

“Please?”

He meets her pleading eyes momentarily and, against his better judgment, agrees. 

“What’s it called?” she questions. 

“It’s just my name,”

“Self-titled, very classy. I like it,”

“I thought about calling it Sign of the Times,” Harry reveals. “But it’s already been done before,”

Alani hums. “Prince,”

“Yeah,” he nods. “But then I also thought about going with ‘Pink,’ because, you know, when in doubt—”

“Go with the pink one,” they say in unison and Alani smiles softly. How had he remembered that?

“And it’s the only true rock ‘n roll color,” she continues. 

Harry beams. “Exactly. But then Jeff suggested that we just go with the name. Simple, but effective,”

“Okay, so now that we’ve got the background,” Alani pokes. “And you’ve sufficiently distracted me, can I listen now?”

He swallows and checks the GPS, still twenty-five minutes to go. 

“How about we hold off,” he suggests. “Just for now so we can listen to the full thing and really soak it in?”

Alani backs off. “Alright, deal.”

She presses shuffle on the playlist of her frequently played songs for the month and immediately regrets doing so. Clearing her throat, she goes to press skip but Harry stops her. 

“S’a good one.” he says gently, so Alani lets Adele fill the awkward space. 

If you’re gonna let me down 

Let me down gently don’t pretend 

That you don’t want me 

Our love ain’t water under the bridge

********

Harry opens the passenger door and Alani steps out, her eyes squinting to make out any recognizable landmarks in their surroundings. They remain a comfortable two feet apart and make their way to the entrance of what appears to be some sort of greenhouse. Alani is filled with more confusion, but she doesn’t ask further questions until they reach the white double doors. 

“What?” Harry questions. “Never been to the New York Botanical Garden?”

Alani’s eyes widen. “The—wait, you—we’re?”

“After you,” he chuckles lightly, opening the doors. 

“Are we even allowed? I mean is it open?”

“I pulled some strings,”

She enters cautiously, immediately met with an archway of blush colored flowers and string lights that takes her breath away. A long, narrow pond in the center reflects the image back and creates a kaleidoscope of pink, green, and golden hues. 

“How did you,” Alani begins, at a complete loss for words. “Who are you?”

Harry nods in the direction of an adjacent hallway. “There’s a ballroom set up for a wedding tomorrow night, but Jim said we could crash as long as we clean up after ourselves,”

“Jim?”

“The director.”

“Of course.” 

Sure enough, round tables with cream colored tablecloth and elaborate floral centerpieces are arranged around the room. A delicate, yet undoubtedly expensive, chandelier twinkles in the center of the room and casts such a warm glow that Alani momentarily forgets about the snow outside. 

“Dig in,” Harry instructs, setting the pasta on the table in front of them. 

Alani sits and gently sheds her winter coat as he does the same. Underneath his jacket, Harry wears a yellow shirt that catches her eye with the words “treat people with kindness” printed in black lettering. She freezes when she spots a gold chain with a sun and moon pendant nestled comfortably between above the words.

“How is everyone?” Alani questions politely to shift her attention. “Mitch, Tom, Jeff,”

“They’re good, yeah,” he nods. “How’re Freddie and your family?”

“They’re fine, and he’s living his blissful little life,”

“Good for him. Miss his cuddles,”

And yours, Harry thinks, but he pulls back. Alani offers a shy laugh and thinks about the elephant in the room yet to be addressed: the break-up. It’s worth discussing, but she sure as hell isn’t going to be the one to bring it up. 

“And how’ve you been?” Harry asks when the silence stretches out for too long. 

Alani chews and ponders the question. “Good. Been working a lot,”

“Where at?”

“Rolling Stone,”

“Really?” he beams. “That’s incredible, congratulations,”

“Thank you,” she replies graciously. 

Harry’s chin rests in his palm and he twirls a noodle around his fork. “So you live here?”

“Yeah, in the Village,”

“Wow. Greenwich Village, a real city-slicker now. Traded Stevie in for the Holland Tunnel?”

A bittersweet smile spreads across Alani’s lips at the memory of her beloved Bronco. “Sadly, yes. And you?”

“Malibu,” Harry divulges. “I hate the cold.”

“It’s not so bad. You can always cuddle up with the giant rats,” she jokes, which makes his nose scrunch.

“I’m just gonna pretend you didn’t say that,” 

“Speaking of pretend,” Alani wiggles her brows. “You were in a movie after all,” 

“I was,” 

“I didn’t watch it, sorry,” 

Harry feigns offense and Alani quickly back pedals. “I don’t like war movies!”

“And you hated my guts.” he teases, though it pains him that there might be some truth to his words. 

Alani shakes her head and fights the urge to reach across the table for his hand. “No, not really. It was kind of the opposite, actually.” 

Harry’s eye wanders to the outside of Alani’s wrist and a faint smile creeps across his face when he spots the black outline of a crescent moon. He wonders if there are any new inked designs that he isn’t aware of. Despite all the time that has elapsed, there is a familiarity in her presence that he hadn’t felt even in the comforts of his California residence. It was like kicking off your shoes in the doorway after a long trip. It was like coming home. 

They finish their meal and continue their light-hearted banter into the night. Harry tells his favorite stories from tour and Alani wishes more than anything that she could have been there. She details the events of her own busy life in New York and the highlights of working for Rolling Stone, one of which being the time that she got to meet Stevie Nicks in the flesh. 

“Did you tell her about your car?” Harry presses enthusiastically. 

“No way,” Alani chuckles, draining the last of her drink. “I wasn’t gonna embarrass myself in front of the Supreme,” 

“I think she would’ve found it flattering,” 

“Naming your child after someone is flattering, not a car,” 

Harry shrugs. “I think it’s cute,” 

“Yeah well,” Alani sighs. “You’re not like most people,”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

She mulls it over, studying the familiar sea glass irises that she never thought she’d see again. What had Alani meant by that statement? Truthfully, she didn’t know if she could put it into words, nor had she meant to say them in the first place. But something about Harry always made her feel brave, like she could speak her mind uncensored and he would understand without even trying. 

“I just meant that you’re, you know,” she starts. “Not judgemental. Like, I could tell you that I think I’m part alien and you’d probably try to help me find my home planet,” 

Harry laughs and leans forward with his elbows on the table, an unspoken challenge for Alani to continue her thoughts. 

“You make people feel seen and heard,” she says finally with a wistful look in her eye. “I mean, why do you think all those people lined up to see you tonight?” 

The last part of her statement is a deflection from what she really wants to say, which is that Harry makes her feel seen and heard. Despite all the time and space between them, it was still true and it terrified her. There was only so much bravery that Harry’s presence could evoke. The mood shifts suddenly when Alani’s phone buzzes and the name “Mason” with a pink heart emoji lights up the screen next to her glass of water. Harry hadn’t meant to look and he deeply regrets that he did. 

“You have a boyfriend,” he comments dejectedly, and though he hadn’t meant it to be accusatory, all words carry the sting of judgment when falling on guilty ears. 

“Oh, and I’m sure you’ve stayed celibate this entire time,” Alani bites back. 

Harry’s brow furrows. “I wasn’t—I didn’t mean—”

“I’m sorry, this was a mistake,” she apologizes, standing with her coat. 

“Wait,” he jumps up. “What just happened?”

“I have to go—”

“Just stop for a minute, please,”

Alani stops in her tracks and turns back to face Harry slowly. His jaw is tight and the crease between his eyebrows is deeper than she remembers. 

“I’m sorry,” she begins carefully. “Thank you for tonight, but I really shouldn’t be here—”

Harry’s eyes clamp shut and he runs a frustrated hand through his messy curls.  

“Can you stop acting like you’re doing me a favor by leaving and just talk to me?”

“What do you want me to say?” Alani pushes back. “‘I’m sorry that I saw your name in flashing lights and I got caught trying to spy on you’?”

“Alani—”

“‘I’m sorry that I tried to move on’?”

“Stop apologizing—”

“I’m sorry that I fell in love and fucked it all up because I was afraid and I’m sorry that I betrayed the one person who meant everything to me,”

Silence falls between them and the only sound is the sniffling of Alani’s nose as she tries, and fails, to hold back the emotions that pour over. 

“That’s why I went,” she continues, voice wavering. “Because I’m selfish and I couldn’t stay away. Every single day, I’m reminded of how royally I screwed everything up and it tears me apart, so I went to try to make things right and take some of that pain away. Even though I hurt you and there’s nothing I can ever do to change that,”

Harry swallows hard and his eyes sting, but Alani speaks up again before he can respond. 

“So please,” she begs. “Please, just let me finally do something right by you and let me go,”

He takes a cautious step forward and shakes his head. “I don’t want to,”

They both hold their breaths, anticipating the other person’s next draw. 

“And maybe that makes me selfish too,” Harry adds. “‘Cause I went back that day, back to the hotel,”

Alani blinks. “You did?”

“Yes,” he nods. “Because I wasn’t mad that you published the article, I was scared that it was the only reason you were with me—”

“Harry—”

“But then I realized that I didn’t care,” he laughs dryly. “Because I still loved you, and I figured that having you— having just a little bit of your heart and your attention—was worth it, even if you didn’t really love me back,”

He takes another step forward and the toes of their shoes nearly touch. “And maybe I’m being selfish now by asking you to stay, but you’re not the only one trying to get rid of the pain,”

Alani takes a shallow breath and studies the eagerness in his eyes. The sight makes her chest pound. 

“I’m sorry that I ever made you doubt,” she whispers. “But I meant every word I said, you were everything to me. You were the sun that my life revolved around and I was terrified of losing you because the truth is that I hate the cold, too,”

Harry gently reaches a hand up to her cheek and Alani leans into the warmth of his touch. 

“Can I show you something?”

You and your goddamn surprises. “Yes.”

He leads them down several winding hallways before flicking a light on in the gallery. Alani’s heart stops when she sees it. 

“Not quite as impressive as the real thing,” Harry offers. “But Ms. O’Keeffe did a pretty damn good job,”

An original Georgia O’Keeffe painting of a waterfall, their waterfall, the one that Alani had mentioned all that time ago, is displayed proudly on the wall before them. A replica had hung above the bed they shared on many nights and all at once a faint memory resurfaces. 

“Where did you say the original was?”

“New York Botanical Garden,” 

 “M’gonna take you one day,”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Alani takes a step closer to the artwork and examines the details of the oil on canvas. A few steps behind, Harry is only concerned with her reaction and pays little attention to the piece of art on display. As far as he was concerned, Alani was the only one worth admiring. 

“Do you remember what you told me when I asked why you went to the falls to write?” Alani asks. 

Of course Harry had, but he remains silent to let her continue. 

“You said that you liked going there,” she adds, deliberate. “Because it made you forget about every bad thing that ever happened to you, because none of it was real in comparison to the feeling of standing in front of that waterfall,”

Harry nods gently, but he still doesn’t speak. 

“Do you know what that feeling is called?”

“No,”

“It’s called home,” Alani says softly, turning to face him. “It’s what I felt, what I feel, when I’m with you,”

His breath hitches and he stands frozen as she carefully walks toward him.

“And while we’re making wishes come true,” she smiles delicately. “I never told you what I wished for the day we saw that rainbow,”

“What did you wish for?” Harry searches. 

Alani’s eyes fall to his parted lips. “That you would kiss me.”

His mouth curls at the edges and he releases a long breath. “Think maybe I can deliver on that one, too.”

Harry leans in, ever so slightly, and Alani closes the gap. They had been standing mere inches apart, but the meeting of their lips bridges an entire chasm. Over and over again, like waves against the shore, their mouths collide desperately as they pull each other closer with no intentions of ever letting go. 

********

February 14, 2018

“Comment est le temps?” 

Alani peers up at Harry and shields her eyes from the sun behind his back. “What does that mean?”

He grins softly and kisses the top of her head before taking a seat on the balcony next to her. 

“Means ‘how’s the weather?’,” 

“Oh,” she leans over, lips puckered for a kiss. “Full of perfectly Parisian sunshine,”

“Try sayin’ that ten times fast,”

Alani swipes his pink, heart shaped sunglasses and slips them onto the bridge of her nose with a contented sigh. Ahead, the Eiffel tower stands proudly in the distance and the lenses of her glasses tint the entire scene in a picturesque rosy glow. 

“La Ville de L’amour,” she hums. “Did I say that right?”

“Oui,”

“Hey, you know what I saw on the room service menu?”

Harry shakes his head. “No, what?”

“Piña coladas,” Alani wiggles her brows. “Think they deliver at midnight?”

He chuckles lightly and his hand takes purchase on her knee. “They better,”

“Never had a Parisian piña colada. Sounds romantic, though.”

“Sure does, sweets.”

Alani stands and reaches for Harry’s hand. He accepts and rises to his feet, pulling her close. Below, the sounds of the city serenade them as they gently sway in the chilly breeze. When Harry feels Alani shiver, he hugs  her to his chest and rests his chin comfortably on the top of her head. She feels his steady heartbeat against her cheek and smiles softly, fingertips smoothing up and down his back. 

“Are you ready for Valentine’s Day surprise number one?” he asks, pulling away slightly to meet her eyes. 

She narrows her eyes. “Where are we going?”

Harry pulls back with a mischievous smile, hands still attached to hers, and leads them back inside.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Alani giggles but she doesn’t push. Instead, she happily follows him out of their room, down the hall, and into the bustling streets of Paris. 

We don’t know where we’re going 

But we know where we belong 

And oh we started 

Two hearts in one home 

It’s hard when we argue 

We’re both stubborn 

I know, but oh

Sweet creature, sweet creature 

Wherever I go, you bring me home 

Sweet creature, sweet creature

When I run out of road 

You bring me home

[embrassemoi]

Surrounded by the Moon and Stars • 10

Pairings: Sirius Black x [F]Reader, Remus Lupin x [F]Reader Content: Language, possible errors, introducing more Marlene, unreliable narrative-ish Author’s notes: Ngl, I had to rush this one.

Masterlist: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 9: One Hundred and Fifty Points

❉───────•~❉•᯽•❉~•───────❉

November rolled around signifying the start of the new Quidditch season. Inside the great hall was flooded with the smell of sausages and fried eggs along with the cheerful chatter of students looking forward to the first match.

Gryffindor and Slytherin were the first teams set to play and their relationship had never been so tense until now; even the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs who liked to join in on the playful raillery decided not to participate.

Whenever a Gryffindor was to pass by the Slytherin table to get to their respective seats or simply walk through the entrance, a hassle of insults and boos would follow and vice versa.

While both houses had their own tactics to mess with each other, the Slytherins had tactics that transpired off the pitch and were brought into daily life. It was a smart move, and some of the newer Gryffindor players allowed it to bother them even before stepping foot onto the field. The insults built over the past couple of years, largely because Gryffindor had yet to lose a single game since James joined the team a little over three years ago.

And since James was newly appointed captain, they were relentless.

In the days leading up to the match, whenever Y/N accompanied James through the halls, whispers of childish remarks like, “I bet Potty is going to go to the potty after Talkalot throws him off his broom,” and other insults follow him, varying from his abilities or his capability to lead his team to victory.

Despite the relentless jeers, James managed to take them in stride, constantly donning a bright smile. Not once had it wavered him or chilled his blood. If anything, he took it as a compliment and even bounced off of it with a witty response. A few times, he even repeated the insult, announcing it loud enough for everyone in the vicinity to hear before turning the joke on them.

But today, he finally cracked. Marlene, who joined the team last year as a chaser, was beyond ecstatic while James’ smile was non-existent. It was fairly evident to everyone who knew him that his smile and body language faked confidence in an attempt to mask nervousness.

As his first year as captain, James had an extreme burden on his shoulders. Stakes were at an all-time high to continue the three-year-long title holder of the Quidditch cup. He was under a constant microscope. Everyone was curious to see how James led his team. Not only did he have to prove his abilities as a leader but was also in jeopardy of staying captain for next year. His status depended on these games.

Additionally, the potential loss would be devastating. James was not the first pick as captain for this year. Charlie Bell, a seventh year, was supposed to take his place with James coaching the year after he left, but Bell stepped down, preferring to spend his time focusing on NEWT revisions. Although due to his time studying, Bell’s abilities were admittedly sloppy and began to worry James as he was not up to his standards.

Although in Y/N’s (biased) opinion, James had nothing to worry about.

He insisted on daily practices ever since try-outs were held in early September. It was even hard to catch Marlene who’d been James’ left-hand man of sorts. Today, the two players woke up bright and early in preparation for the first game. They woke up at six o’clock in the morning, to Marlene’s dismay, and went for a light jog and a quick exercise. The rest of the Gryffindor team was there and went over their ground plan again.

Y/N had seen a few of their practices to support them and bring any food incase they missed breakfast or dinner. James was absolutely merciful. Like any good captain, he listened and attended to the needs of his players, but he held Marlene’s opinion higher than the rest.

Rumours floated around the two and she was excited to see if they held true. Both players had become great partners and were almost unstoppable on the field. Because of this, it was highly anticipated that Gryffindor was going to win, especially with how gruelling James’ coaching methods were compared to former captains. Bets were placed ranging from Knuts, Sickles and Galleons.

Due to the overwhelming pressure, James was at a loss for words, for once. His anxiety spiked and the only person who could talk any sense into was Marlene; both sharing an odd, yet special bond.

Even in the days leading up, Mcgonagall, who she’d found out was very gifted and a huge fan of the sport, took notice of his unusual and quiet behaviour. McGonagall let loose, avoiding giving out homework for the week. She had even opted to avoid giving James any.

It was quite clear McGonagall had a soft spot for the marauders, often letting them do as they pleased while at harshest, taking away house points and sparingly handing them detentions. James, of course, had been using this to his advantage as he pleaded to give the entire Gryffindor team no homework using the famous ‘but we have practice!’ excuse.

When she arrived in the hall with Dorcas, the moment they walked through the entrance, the Slytherin table booed in their direction but was rivalled with a thunderous welcome from the Gryffindor table. Everyone in sight wore red and gold.

James had a vice-grip on Quidditch Through the Ages while in the other hand, tried but failed, to shovel potatoes in his mouth. Marlene sat on his left, reviewing several techniques they could use last minute that the Slytherins may not expect coming. They were already wearing their jerseys. Plastered on Marlene’s chest in bright yellow was the number 6 while James was 7. Their uniforms were identical aside from the pin on James’ shirt that caught everyone’s attention. A shiny new captain’s badge sitting proudly on his chest.

Both were talking to each other rapidly, barely registering their friends sitting down beside them.

“Don’t be thick,” said Marlene, “This is going to work. Stop second-guessing.”

“I’m mental. Abso-fucking-bloody-mental … What was I thinking?”

“Potter,” she scolds, “get it together. Now, in about an hour, we’re going to be walking on the pitch. We’ve practiced for hours — days even — much more than the Slytherins have. You were made captain for a reason and we have back-up plans. We’re beyond ready.”

He sighs, taking a deep inhale. “Okay… Okay.”

Within a few seconds, the air around him shifts and James' assertive and authoritative side takes over. “What were you suggesting earlier?”

“We have to go underneath and cut them off. Trust me, they won’t expect it.”

“Where do you want me?”

“What broom model do you have?”

“Nimbus 1984.”

Marlene scoffs, “Should’ve known, Mr. ‘Trust fund’ Potter. Anyway, yours is the fastest and newest — ought to be the first one to cut ‘em. Lead the way.”

James stops to ponder before bobbing his head in agreement, “Sounds good, but Bell?”

“— do you think he can do it?”

“Not sure. Maybe he will once the rush comes — no — we can use him as a decoy then.”

The sudden uproar of cheers and boos of both Gryffindors and Slytherins attempting to drown each other reached the table’s ears again, James looked down at his lap. Even Marlene’s leg started bouncing up and down.

Lily was about to make a harmless jab before Marlene’s eyes shot up to her, shaking her head warningly.

James was truly losing his shit inside and out.

“Mental,” he grumbles out. He barely registers his body move on its own accord. Marlene followed his lead, getting up with him before his attention was drawn back to everyone in front of him.

“You coming, right? Gotta see my moves,” James tries to joke, looking at Y/N.

“She better or I’ll drag her onto the field.” Marlene cuts in. Judging by the burning look in her eyes, Marlene was far from joking.

“Of course I will.” She then directs the next sentence mostly to James, “You’re going to crush them.”

A nod of approval comes from both players. Marlene’s chest puffs out from the praise, even going as far to dramatically flick her hair over her shoulder while James seems to relax considerably.

“Of course we are. You are talking to the King of Quidditch.”

“Hem hem — and queen!”

“My bad — and queen. We’re going to win.” It was nice seeing his arrogant side back.

“Pff— that’s not even a question,” Marlene says, “I’d rather fling my body off a tower if we lose this game.”

❉───────•~❉•᯽•❉~•───────❉

At eleven o’clock sharp, the entire school sat in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. From there, she could smell the fresh-cut grass, filling the air as cold steel filtered through her lungs. It was refreshing and tickled the inside of her nose. The seats were raised high, a warming charm placed on them, courtesy of Flitwick.

Flakes of dewey frost coated the field and stands. The wind howled as a few brooms whipped back and forth, checking to see if everything was in proper condition before the start of the game. Unfortunately for the players, stormy grey clouds were raised high and there was a high risk of rain or snow. It surely was going to make catching the Golden Snitch harder.

All the girls were there to support Marlene. Lily and Dorcas went all out and brought a huge poster. Streaks of red and gold were painted underneath their eyes as leftover gold tinsel from the Halloween party was woven into Lily’s hair. Many other students also held large signs, waving flags; even Y/N and Mary had binoculars secured around their necks.

A large lion was charmed onto the sign, moving back and forth before opening its mouth to roar. In bold letters, it read Gryffindor’s Weapon, McKinnon! Dorcas placed another charm on so the letters interchanged between red and gold, flashing similar to a new-maj diner sign.

Madam Hooch stood in the middle of the pitch. In a flash, the two teams came out, shouldering their brooms in a single file line from two hidden doors beneath the stands. At the front, the team’s respective captains led them to the middle. A deafening applause greeted them. Some players even waved back to the crowd for louder cheers.

A few rows down, sitting in the very front was Sirius and Peter, rapidly waving their arms around and cheering. Peter bent down, pulling up a sign that read Potter’s Preeminence . Even with the distance, Y/N could hear Sirius’ screaming. He wore a paper mache lion head while Peter wore the body of a lion.

‘YOU GOT THIS PRONGS! FUCKING CRUSH THEIR TINY LITTLE SNAKE BONES— LET’S GO GRYFFINDOR, LET’S GO WOOWOO!”

What caught her eye was Remus’ absence. She was under the impression that he and James were close friends, so surely he would have been there in support knowing that this game was immensely important to him.

Back on the field, the captains shook their hands. James’ head was held high, determined not to break eye contact first. However, the other captain simply smirked and leant in to whisper something in his ear before Hooch scolded her. When she pulled back, Y/N could hardly see James’ expression but she managed to catch a small glimpse.

He looked, well, she didn't know what his expression meant. Angry? Nervous? Annoyed?  

This was her cue, “DON’T LET THEM GET TO YOU JAMES!” She shouted so loud that it managed to travel down to him. Sirius’ head whipped back, even looking appreciative at her encouragement.

James managed to hear and his head perked up. His head swivelled towards her, his frown wiped off as his confidence returned. Behind him, Marlene looked up to the stands and Y/N, along with the other girls, shot her a thumbs up.

Madam Hooch continued to give her speech. James looked determined, his head tilting towards Marlene as they nodded to each other in encouragement. Y/N was unfamiliar with the rest of the Gryffindor and Slytherin players, but surprisingly, Regulus Black was standing there. Unlike the other warm brown and golden brooms, Regulus’s broom was black, accented with silver metal. An odd mark was engraved on the widest part of the base.

Due to the distance, it was hard to make out what was engraved or what position he played before Madam Hooch grabbed her silver whistle, which was comically too big.

“Mount your brooms,” she said, the entire crowd hearing. She lifted the whistle to her mouth and gave a loud blast. The game began.

Fifteen brooms flew high into the air. The clouds covering a couple of players passing by.

The announcer’s voice fills the air. “Anddd we’re off! Gryffindor’s newest captain, James Potter, 7, has the Quaffle and— he passes it to Charlie Bell, 2. This is his last year on the team so everyone give him a loud cheer— he sends the Quaffle back to Potter— and he passes it over to Marlene McKinnon, 6, and— no— the Slytherins swiped the Quaffle! Captain Emma Vanity, 21, flies away and she dives— she passes it to Rhys Calwald, also a seventh year— McKinnon comes back and takes it! She’s— a Gryffindor is down! Bell was hit by a Bludger and— he’s back up, perfectly fine— Potter is by the goalpost and blocks off the Slytherins, speeding up. Above, Phoebe Dawson, 1, joined as the Gryffindors newest seeker. She’s high in the clouds, neck and neck with Regulus Black, 8, Slytherin’s seeker and— there’s a clear shot to search for the Snitch. The Quaffle is taken by Bell and— Slytherin’s chaser takes it! Chaser Lucinda Talkalot, 4— their beater bats it away from an incoming Bludger— Talkalot is rounding on Gryffindor’s goalpost— she’s close, Vanity is there— she dives— she shoots— and… and— SLYTHERIN SCORES!”

Gryffindors groan while Slytherin cheers and wave their signs higher. A roar of claps goes around.

Now Lily is screaming, her hands are stretched out, waving her large sign above her head, blocking the unlucky students sitting behind her. “THAT WAS ONLY TEN POINTS! GET THEM MARLS— YES! LOOK AT THAT DIVE!”

Down below, Peter and Sirius are mirroring Lily. "IS THAT ALL YOU GOT POTTER?! COME ON WE KNOW YOU CAN GET EM! YOU'RE DOING AMAZING! FUCKING CRUSH THEM!"

Y/N grabbed her binoculars, bringing them to her eyes. Marlene was high up, open for James who had the Quaffle tucked under his arm. He does not look over to her, but rather looks at Bell before he throws it to her, his eyes still trained on Bell. Marlene catches it and from the trick James pulled, she has an extra few seconds before the Slytherins catch her. Marlene speeds away as a Bludger is directed at her. Luckily, one of Gryffindor’s beaters already flung it away as Charlie came rushing close to Marlene’s side, warding off any Slytherins as best as he could.

The commentator cuts in again. “Gryffindor is back in possession of the Quaffle. McKinnon and Bell are flying closer to the goalpost—Slytherin's keeper is standing tall at their net, Ashworth, 3— they’re speeding towards— look! It’s the Snitch!”

The two seeker’s heads shot up. A low murmur spreads through the crowd as they caught sight of a flash of gold. Only for a second, they saw the little ball, its wings fluttering madly before it disappeared back into the clouds.

Slytherin directs a Bludger towards Phoebes before Gryffindor’s beater comes rushing up to swat it away.

Gryffindor still is under the possession of the Quaffle. Marlene and Charlie have been passing it back and forth while James comes back around. His body is pressed close to his broom. He does a funny hand movement, signalling to the rest of the chasers before they swoop down suddenly. Everyone is confused and Charlie is flying in the opposite direction, some of the Slytherins follow him before Marlene passes the Quaffle at James and shoots.

"— GRYFFINDOR SCORES!"

Another round of cheers echoes through Gryffindor’s side. Lily’s clapping slowed. She wanted to show support for Marlene, her house, but not for James. As the Quaffle is sent back up to the air, James and Marlene high-five each other discreetly before returning to their positions.

The Slytherins rush back towards Gryffindors goalpost; they're zigzagging through the air, violent swishes to avoid chasers from cutting them off again.

"Slytherin's in possession. Vanity is on Talkalot's right— passes it to her— shots— misses! Talkalot gets another rebound—

Y/N's attention is drawn back to the seekers. A beater is rapidly swatting away Bludgers as Phoebe is neck and neck with Regulus. Her eyes are stuck through the binoculars.

All of the sudden, a Bludger collided hard with James' broom, so strongly that Y/N swore a chip of wood was knocked off. His broom vibrates hard but his grip is still secured tightly to prevent bucking off. The Bludger was so close to his face that for a split second everyone thought it might've broken his nose. The crowd was cheering on intently while Sirius and Peter screamed.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?"

"FOUL!" Madam Hooch yelled. Gryffindor gets a free score on Slytherins goalpost. Marlene is the one to score.

"NICE JOB MARLS!" Lily bellows. Her voice is high-pitched and cuts through the air loud enough that Marlene looks over and gives a thumbs up.

By now, Slytherin has scored eleven times while Gryffindor was merely in the lead by ten points. Slytherin was rapidly gaining on them. Vanity and Talkalot were great at their positions.

"Gryffindors in possession! Bell’s got the Quaff— a Bludger is coming towards Potter again—” The iron ball was barrelling towards him, again. A beater shouted, warning him before James zoomed across the field as fast as he could. A beater trailed after him and swatted it away, narrowly avoiding being hit.

James ducked as another Bludger was rocketed in his direction.

"— BLOCKED! YEAH, SCUMBAGS — Sorry McGonagall!— Bell is gaining on the Slytherins and aiming at Ashworth. McKinnon is seconds behind— the seekers spotted the Golden Snitch!"

There was an edge of panic that soared through everyone’s hearts as both of the seekers dived down so fast that the chasers and beaters had to move out of their way. It was neck and neck, both flattened to their broom and the crowd only saw the glimpse of golden sparkles. Both reached out their hands.

It was only then a Bludger hit the back of Phoebe's broom, similar to James, causing her to lunge forward and off her broom.

Both seekers were laid on the ground. Everyone peered at the crash worried about their safety before Regulus lifted his hand, waving it above his head.

"I got the Snitch!" Regulus pants out.

James came rushing down to his teammate's side to make sure they weren't badly injured. He screamed for Madam Hooch.

After careful deliberation, Hooch ultimately decided that Slytherin won, awarding them the extra one hundred and fifty points. Gryffindor lost by thirty points.

"That was an illegal Bludger attack!" Marlene says.

"What the fuck?! That's rubbish!" Sirius screamed. Mary, Lily, Dorcas and Y/N groaned with the rest of the Gryffindors. The Slytherins chanted, waving their banners around and screaming as the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws clapped.

“Bell shoulda been cap, what were they thinking, picking the so-called King of Quidditch!” The Slytherins sang.

James, while still upset at the ruling, was more upset at his team member’s pain. Nobody knew what happened, but James seemed to leave Phoebe's side once he knew she was okay and stormed off in the direction of Vanity. Marlene grabbed a hold of his uniform to pull him back.

“James, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” She seethes into his ear, "Don’t start muggle duelling!"

“Are you fucking joking?” He bits back, “I’m not going to hit a woman!”

“Then calm down now.”

Whatever it was, James felt himself cool down considerably as he looked to Marlene. “Right, sorry. Just wanted to talk some sense into her.”

“Dreadful temper you’ve got there Potter.” Vanity spits out. She walks up to him, a pitiful smile on her.

“You need to keep your beaters in check,” he spits. Sparks fly from his nose as he marches back to Phoebe. By now, Madam Pomfrey has her laid back on a stretcher. James helps her, picking up the other end and walking back through the hidden doors. The team shuddered, trailing after them.

❉───────•~❉•᯽•❉~•───────❉

It was a devastating blow for Gryffindor. Everywhere Y/N looked, angry or disappointed faces would pop up. The team themselves were dejected while the Slytherins have begun planning a party.In the halls, students that made bets disappointedly slapped money it into the palms of students. 

Nobody had seen James for hours. He’d left right after the game and all the marauders had disappeared, only reappearing for dinner. Only Sirius and Peter were at the table. 

“— We were so close,” said Marlene numbly. “It must have accounted for something, using an illegal move like that.”

“You did amazing, it’s not your fault.” Lily cuts in, patting her on the shoulder.

“Now Potter is going to be ruthless for the next practices.”

A roar of laughter came from the Slytherins, a song chanting from their lips.

“Potter can hardly score a goal, he almost plummeted on the floor! He calls himself the King of Quidditch, well we call him the second option! Bell shoulda been cap, what were they thinking, picking the so-called King of Quidditch!”

“Shut it!” Sirius yelled, “You cheated! Bunch of gits.”

“Knock it off!” Followed Peter.

“Potter can hardly score a goal, he almost plummeted on the floor!"

Marlene cringes, watching the scene play out. Her grip on her fork tightens that for a moment Y/N thought she would have shattered the metal pieces. “They already won, what more do they want? A bunch of ugly toads...”

“Just ignore them,” Dorcas says. Marlene looked back at her, smiling reassuringly but with effort.

“He calls himself the king of Quidditch, well we call him the second option!”

“I don’t even like him,” Lily says dully, “But this… this is just mean.”

“Bell shoulda been cap, what were they thinking, picking the so-called King of Quidditch!”  

No wonder James skipped dinner. Y/N turns her head to look at Sirius and Peter, both upset. A thought passes, perhaps it would be good to see how James was doing, but a small seed of doubt settled in her. If his best friends weren’t with him, then it probably would be better to leave him alone. But starving himself shouldn’t be the other option. As the Slytherins continued to sing, with teachers and prefects starting to get up to stop them, Y/N grabbed a nearby empty plate before piling on spaghetti and bread along with slipping a few utensils in her pockets. She excused herself, nodding to Marlene for comfort and slipping her way out effortlessly as teachers swamped the Slytherin table.

The common room was empty aside from James who was huddled up with his invisibility cloak, staring miserably out a window. Only his head was visible, the rest covering his body. It made her feel a bit queasy.

The fireplace crackled with every step she took. There were a few options Y/N could broach this situation,

She could walk around him like there were eggshells,

Or treat him normally.

She sat down beside him, a bit unsure, handing him his plate. His gaze moves to her, a quick smile flashes.

“Thanks.” He says, taking it from her. He ate in silence for a while, Y/N deciding to talk to fill the silence.

“I was thinking we should play exploding snaps-”

“Hey, look, “ he cuts off fast, nodding stiffly. His smile faded and a hard edge crept in his voice, “you don't have to try and cheer me up—”

“Relax, I’m not here to baby you. You’re doing that already.”

A small huff of amusement comes out, “Well then, mind if I play with you?”

“Of course!”

Whenever James won, and quite honestly he wasn’t the best, he’d make a small whooping sound. Even a few times she lost purposely so he would win.

That is until he spoke again, almost inaudible “You know… I care what people think of me- well certain people and I let them down today.”

“James, you didn’t.”

“I did —”

“Nobody is mad at you. If anything they’re mad at Madam Hooch.”

“Still,” he looked down embarrassed. “What are they saying about me down there?”

Her brain short-circuited for a moment; he would have to find out eventually. “They’re singing.”

“Great.” Although he didn’t look bothered, just annoyed. However, he gained a rush of enthusiasm with his next sentence, “Whatever, I’ll show them next year.” 

A few games later, James left before the swarm of students came back to the common room. Again, he covered himself with the cloak and disappeared into the hallway. The spring in his step was noticeably lighter.

[choicesficwriterscreations]

450 Followers: Meet The Writer

Hello there! We’re back with another Meet The Writer Q&A and it’s our pleasure to introduce a fellow Brazilian fanfic author for our ninth interview:

Blog: @julia-highstorms​ Name (or petname): Julia/Ju Birthday: July 9 Nationality: Brazilian 🇧🇷 Current residency: I'm one of the 12 million people living in São Paulo, Brazil Languages you speak: Brazilian Portuguese, English and a bit of Japanese Masterlist: Julia’s choices fanfiction masterlist

1. Is there a meaning behind your url name? Yes! For those who have been following me for a while, they already know that I used to change my URL according to the Choices character I was stanning at the time but it was a PAIN to fix all my fanfics links 😩 so I decided to finally create an unique URL that I wouldn't get tired of. So I mixed my two surnames together and it (basically) means Highstorms. I loved it 😌

2. When did you start playing Choices? What's the first book you played? 2017 I believe. TRR book 1 was about to debut. YEAH. It was the Freshman Book 1.

3. When did you decide to join Choices fandom? December 21 2017. ILITW was in its last chapters and I was obsessed with it. I wanted to talk about it with other people, but I didn't know anyone who also played Choices. So I found the fandom on Tumblr and decided to join. I miss all my friends I made back then and we all went nuts with ILITW finale together 😩 Good times

4. Go back to your archive and tell us what was your first post on your Choices blog was about. My first post was about how I loved ILITW and how everyone was fucked up sjddndossok also a lot of reblogs about MAKE NOAH AN LI 🗣️

5. How long have you been writing fanfiction? I started writing fanfictions in my senior year of high school, although I attempted to write my own stories when I was younger, around 12-13.

6. Share the first fanfic you wrote with us. Do you still like it or would you change anything about it? My first fanfic ever is about The Maine, it was my favorite band back then slfjdfodj but my first Choices fanfic is If Jane Was Here (ILITW told by Noah) Chapter 1. I AM SO PROUD OF IT. Of course, there are some things I would change. Like adding even more angst. Having finished writing it way sooner. But I'm super proud of it overall. My first (and so far only) Choices long series I've ever finished. Wow.

7. What are your favorite Choices books to write about? Definitely Open Heart just because of Bryce Lahela and Rei (my MC). OPH has become a mess, but I love Bryce too much. I loved the It Lives anthology too and enjoyed writing about. And I'm hyped for my upcoming Blades AU series!

8. What is your specialty as a fanfic writer? Oooh I guess it is rewriting certain scenes or events of the books or thinking about AUs. Since ILITW I have enjoyed doing this. Writing on another character's point of view of the events that have happened (the whole If Jane Was Here series, that is ILITW told by Noah's POV). Or adding some depth to a certain scene (did something like this with Julia, my ILB MC, and Tom's relationship. And with Rei and Bryce's). Or even rewriting the story to fit better with my MC's personality (Rei, OPH MC).

9. What aspect of your writing do you most enjoy to see praised? When people say they like my MC's, Rei (OPH MC) and Luxia (Blades MC). Before, whenever I played Choices, I didn't care much about the MCs because they're all generic (which makes sense because we're the ones playing it). They're always the happy go lucky friend that tries to fix everyone's problems and every LI is in love with them. Boooooring. Rei was my first MC that I created a whole non-canon personality to her, and that's why she's my baby 🥺 and when people commented that they felt represented by Rei, that she felt more realistic than PB's usual MC, well, that was my peak as a writer lol so they're basically OC's, with their own personalities and temperaments.

10. Do you participate in any writing events or challenges throughout the year? If so, what do you like about them? I do, but I wish I could participate more often! The prompts are what I like the most, because they give me ideas that I'd have never thought to write about before.

11. Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing? Meg Cabot was my favorite author growing up and I read some of Sophie Kinsella’s books too, so probably my love for adding a bit of comedy, silly little things in my fanfics came from them. I love Jane Austen too. And last but not least, my flair for angst definitely came from reading Fruits Basket, my favorite manga ever. There’s so much angst in Furuba dodksdishd Takaya Natsuki-sensei really enjoys it. I recommend reading her other manga series, Twinkle Stars, too.

12. What element of writing do you struggle with most? Actually writing lmao. You know, taking the plot out of my mind and typing it down on Google Docs. Writing is hard, takes too much time and I'm lazy 😩 I wish I could just transfer my ideas to a document and it's done. No need to write, no need to revise, etc. I love the final product, but I hate the process.

13. Do you have any abandoned WIPs? What made you abandon them? A BUNCH OAJDSKDKD 🤦 Either because my inspiration to write it has faded or because I don't want to spend my whole time writing.

14. You’re applying for the fanfic writer of the year award. What five fanfics do you put in your portfolio? Oooooh great question! I must put:

If Jane Was Here - Alternative ending (ILITW): this is the only finale I accept sorrynotsorry

Too Little Too Late - Jax x MC (Bloodbound): I wanted to feel hurt. People cried. I loved it sclkdsdjsops

The Loudest One - Bryce x F!MC (Open Heart): I wrote this one for CFWC Kinktober! And honestly, this is the best smut scene I have written. I’m quite proud about it.

Satisfied - Jax x Lily (Bloodbound): it was fun writing for my crack ship! My babies. And the first smut scene I have ever written. I’m glad it was with these two. I still can’t get over the fact that either one of them dies in BB’s finale. I cannot accept skfjdpd

Lullaby - Tyril x Elf!F!MC (Blades): don’t get me wrong, I love Tyril and his goth lordling mysterious elf boy personality and the first time he and MC made out was HOT but… I missed a bit of clousure before, you know? It felt a bit sudden to me, so I wrote a couple of fanfics showing their growing interest and attraction towards one another. This one is a light cute one and I really like it.

15. Do you create original content aside from fanfiction (original stories, art, etc)?  I sometimes draw some fanarts in which you can see by searching for #occasional drawings on my Tumblr.

Do you want to contribute with questions/ideas for the next Meet The Writer Q&A? Send us a message.

Thanks for reading! Reblog to share your appreciation for @julia-highstorms​ ❤️

[stephaniemayauthor]

All About Editing

I believe it was Robert Graves who once said "there is no such thing as good writing, only good rewriting."

That is why I both love and hate the editing process. By the time I've released a novel, it can feel like I've read the thing about 79 times. But editing is a crucial step between make or break. I've seen 1 star reviews because the reader found grammatical errors.

Here are my steps of the editing process :

1. As soon as I've finished typing the first draft, I head straight back to the beginning and do an edit on the laptop. I am well aware MANY people advise against this. Why? Because it's too fresh in the author's mind; they're bound to make mistakes and overlook issues. However, I feel BECAUSE it is so fresh and I now know everything there is to know, there isn't a better time to catch mistakes. Full disclosure: I am a panster, which probably has something to do with it. I need to write in order to flesh out characters. I scarcely know the universe I'm creating. I don't want to know what will happen on page 50 if I have not yet written page 5. To me, it's like reading the ending first. So with that, I do an edit on the laptop, also because it allows me to keep multiple tabs open at a time - Google, Macquarie Dictionary etc. It also gives me a chance to fix spelling errors, and time to cut filter words/redundancies/over usage of taglines.

2. After I've cleaned up my WIP (work in progress) with my laptop edit, THEN I put it aside for months before I pick it up again. I get the good people at Officeworks to print out and bind the pages with a coil. My preferred method is working with actual paper. For my next round of revisions, I use a good old red pen and different-coloured highlighters. There's no limit to these edits. It can be 5 or 10 rounds, all depending on the subject matter (like historical fiction).

3. At this stage I will start looking for manuscript critique partners. Their job is not to fix spelling and syntax, but for finding lingering issues, and working on important aspects such as: pacing, plotting, character development, overall feel, lingering/unanswered questions and inconsistencies. I feel this is a necessary step in the beginning stages, as by now I feel I'm shaping up the novel well, but may need a bit of guidance.

4. After taking their advice onboard and making appropriate changes, I then run my manuscript through ProWritingAid. Chapter by chapter, I copy and paste and let it run a report on my WIP. I don't always agree, but this has proven to be extremely useful in more ways than one.

5. Next I use the 'read aloud' function on Word. This is one of my favourite stages. It takes a long time, sure. But worth it? 100%! Our eyes can be deceptive, but the ears cannot. I can't recall the amount of mistakes 'read aloud' uncovered. It's astonishing, actually. Anyone not having a system/app where you can hear your own words is only doing themselves a disservice. Trust me. Do this!

6. One of the final stages is sending it off to my editor. I don't believe there's a substitute for having a professional read over your work. Some say you can bypass this round if you cannot afford it, but by God, I'm begging indie authors to find a way to pay. Even if you have excellent spelling and grammar skills, there are still other things to look out for: continuity, redundancy, filter words, crutch words ...

7. After following my editor's strong advice and making changes, I read through my WIP one more time, then lastly do another 'read aloud' edit (sometimes this can be a simple thing like using 'scrapping', when really I meant 'scraping').

8. My favourite part of the process: sending it off to the formatting team. Once I receive this back and it looks like an actual novel, I then read one more time to check there are no lingering mistakes and pesky errors.

I don't expect anyone to follow what I do step-by-step. I believe we should take or leave advice as we see fit. At the end of the day, it is YOUR novel, including styling and author voice. But, I have been asked about my steps before, so if this helps in any way, then I can rest easy.

To emerging indie authors: good luck, and God speed with your editing process ...