#slash and bash can come back from the dead for one reason

[escapedaudios]

Angst tip: never give back what you took from your characters. Never take anything away from them that you aren't willing to lock away forever. Your tragedy will fall flat, and your narrative will shift from serious tragedy to a whimsical adventure or even a comedic tone. If that's your goal then go for it! But if you want them to suffer, I mean really exquisitely suffer, the most impactful part of that narrative isn't found in the loss itself but rather the empty hole it leaves behind. There's more story to be told in the long climb out of that hole than in a single shocking moment that's reversed without consequence.

[shannonallaround]

Oh my gosh I didn’t think you guys would actually ask me about my au, thank you!! I’m so excited to share this! You asked for an info dump so be prepared :)

So, I always wondered in Sonic Forces what the real Shadow was doing for 6 months between when he met Infinite and when Sonic found him in Sunset Heights. The game makes it clear that no one personally interacted with Shadow during that time. Why didn't he find one of his friends sooner and be like "Yo, I'm actually not evil, the shadow you see running around doing bad stuff is a fake"? Or why wasn’t he actively fighting against Eggman? He could have majorly slowed his takeover down, so what was going on?

In this AU, the reason Shadow was missing for so long was because he was stuck in another dimension created by the phantom ruby. You know how in Episode Shadow, Infinite experiments with the phantom ruby on Shadow and throws him into an alternate reality for a few minutes?

In my AU, that same thing happens, except Shadow can’t get out… for SIX MONTHS.

Instead of just an illusion, Infinite creates something closer to what he did with Null Space—an alternate dimension. It takes an incredible amount of energy to create and put Shadow in the dimension, so Infinite decides it’s not sustainable to do that again on a regular basis (he was experimenting remember). But he does leave Shadow there to get him out of his and Eggman’s way.

Shadow catches on pretty quickly that something’s up, eventually figuring out he must be in some sort of virtual reality. This fake reality seems impenetrable for a long time and Shadow can’t get out (though he never stops trying). As the months progress, without a consistent energy source, the illusion gradually begins to break down and ‘burn out’ (something Infinite did not expect or think about, nor did Eggman). It’s at this point that Shadow is able to find a way out.

At this point, it’s six months into the war. Sonic (as far as anyone knows) is dead. Eggman has actually taken over most of the world. Because of Infinite’s power (people haven’t figured out the illusions yet), Shadow is considered evil by 99% of the world’s population.

The real Shadow knows none of this. So when he comes back, he’s extremely confused. Hardly anything looks like he remembers. There’s no one around. He has no idea what day it is. His first instinct is to find his friends, and with his communicator busted due to his time in Infinite’s alt. reality, he sets out on foot.

Eventually, Shadow gets to Sunset Heights, where he comes across one of those giant Eggman robots.

Shadow knows that Doctor’s creations = bad, so he makes a quick assessment and begins scaling the thing planning to take it down. Unbeknownst to Shadow, several resistance members on the ground see him. They can’t tell what he’s doing but given their history with “Shadow” they assume the worst.

Shadow is bashing up the robot on his way up (probably chaos controlling in and out and around the thing). When he gets to the very top, he’s about to stab a chaos spear into the robot’s head. However, right as he’s about to strike, he hears a strange buzzing noise rapidly approaching. He barely tilts his head to see when—

BAM! A resistance member barrels past Shadow, traveling UP the vertical side of the robot with a drill wispon. As they fly past him, the drill slashes with full force into Shadow’s side. The unexpected blow from a completely unfamiliar weapon throws Shadow violently off of the giant robot and he begins to plummet towards the ground. While running on adrenaline he manages to chaos control down to safety and far enough away so that his attackers lose sight of him, but he’s so badly hurt that he can’t go very far. The resistance members almost find him, but they eventually give up and leave.

Shadow ends up stumbling through some building ruins, only able to chaos control a couple feet at a time. He is in severe pain and his mind is becoming foggy and he can feel himself fading very very quickly. As Shadow presses on and tries not pass out, he suddenly hears what sounds like a weapon being cocked. He looks to the side to see a familiar face:

Tails.

But the fox looks very different from when he last saw him. He looks scruffy, hard-eyed, ruthless… and is aiming right for him. He’s pointing directly at Shadow what will later be revealed to be a custom-made Laser wispon.

This is what Tails thinks of Shadow at this point as he’s looking at him:

This is the guy who used to be my friend.

This is the guy who betrayed my brother for the enemy we all despised.

This guy is responsible for my brother’s death.

ok now I'm sharing some VERY PRELIMINARY dialogue here, most of which i wrote at like midnight several weeks ago so please don't judge but I hope you enjoy!

---

SHADS: Don’t shoot! Don’t… don’t shoot… (panting)

TAILS: … (aim doesn’t waver, neither does his expression change)

SHADS: Tails… it’s good to—

TAILS: What are you doing here?

SHADS: I…? (confused, also woozy) I saw the Doctor’s robots and was— *grunts in pain* trying to hel—

TAILS: You betrayed him.

SHADS: …what?

TAILS: You betrayed him. You betrayed us. ALL of us!! How could you?!?

SHADS: What—? *cough cough!* —What are you talking about?

TAILS: Don’t play dumb, Shadow, I saw you. I saw you help that… that monster… take Sonic down! Why?!?

SHADS: Take him dow—!?!

(Shadow is barely standing at this point, holding onto a broken wall for support.)

TAILS: (angrily tearing up) I thought we were friends, Shadow! He believed in you—I believed you! You and Sonic raced and we talked science and I helped you with your motorcycle and we SAVED THE WORLD together! Multiple times! And then after all that, you… you…! (re-aims gun)— You betrayed him. Why?!?

Shadow is at this point very confused, offended, and bleeding out. His vision is blurring but he manages to say one thing:

SHADS: Let me make one thing quite clear, Tails. I don’t know what’s going on—*cough!*—but… I would never… betray any… of my friends…!

---

Aaaaand Shadow passes out. :) And you see a shot of Tails still pointing his wispon at him, expression unreadable.

When Shadow wakes up, he finds himself in what appears to be some sort of workshop that he doesn’t recognize. Then he hears a voice: “Don’t move much or you’ll start bleeding again.” Tails, against his logical side but in tune with his heart, took Shadow to his makeshift workshop in the city and patched him up. He’s still mad at Shadow, but during their previous conversation he got the sense that there was something he doesn’t know and so considered it worth risking bringing Shadow in to figure it out. He’s very curt at first but gradually Tails realizes that somehow, the Shadow he’s talking to in his workshop is not the same Shadow he saw fight Sonic. Eventually, Shadow notices Omega lying on one of the tables, which is the part of the scene that my drawings are from.

As for Omega, I’m not exactly sure what happened to him yet, but I'm pretty sure that in some form or fashion Infinite uses his powers on him and it short-circuited him. Maybe he was even helping Tails figure out who/what Infinite was and that’s what put him in a position where Infinite could mess with him (this idea, as well as the general idea of a makeshift workshop for Tails, comes from this video— a fantastic reimagining of Sonic Forces that I highly recommend!)

Sooooo after Shadow and Tails confirm that they’re on the same team (and still friends) and that Infinite is doing something super weird, they team up! :D I love au drawings that several people on the internet have done of Shadow and Tails becoming a team in Forces, so yeah.

Other random AU details that are important to me:

Tails fights back HARD when Sonic goes down in the first cutscene

A lot more time passes in the metaphorical game before we know that Sonic is alive

Tails was the one who made the weapons back when the resistance was just beginning so more people could join the fight. He’s the only one that uses a lazer wispon because he hadn’t created one yet when he disappeared about 2-3 months into the war. The rest of the wispons he left blueprints for.

Tails did not believe Sonic was dead (and neither did the rest of Sonic’s friends!) for a long time. It was only after two months or so when Sonic never showed and Eggman kept telling them he was dead and they couldn’t find him anywhere that some started to believe it. It was then that Tails left, initially to keep looking for Sonic on his own. Another month, however, and Tails started to believe it himself.

Amy secretly never stopped believing.

Knuckles is not the sole leader of the resistance—I think Silver, Knuckles, and Amy end up taking the lead together kind of on accident, with all of their friends also heavily involved.

Also not sure yet, but I'm considering there being humans there like in Sonic Unleashed (kudos to @adokle for that idea!)

And THAT, my friends, is my Sonic Forces AU braindump! I hope it was worth the wait, school has been super busy lately. Thanks for being interested! :D It was super fun for me to share all of this.

[kookxin]

WHO; jjk

Pair¬ Jungkook×(she)

Genre¬ thriller, mystery, slightly mature, oneshot

Synopsis¬ he had the exact same face, but his eyes differed radically.

Words¬ 1.1k

°§°

She finally sets herself down on the bed, after a tiresome day of work. She backs up against the headboard of the bed, and sighs in comfort when her tense and aching muscles finally relax. She waits for her housemate - slash - best friend - slash - crush to join her in their shared room.

Working in a Café as waiters means walking around the place all day long, bowing to, and serving the customers, the result being strained muscles, back aches and dead legs. Also, the pay of it is hardly enough to pay the rent of their tiny shared apartment, and for their studies.

Sweating due to the humid and hot weather, she raises her fingers to unbutton her white uniform shirt, when Jungkook walks into the room unexpectedly, blushing heavily, when he notices her doing so. His wide glimmering doe eyes linger on her for a moment, and she notices the gulp going down his throat.

"Sorry!" he squeaks out, and diverts his eyes from her, to hurriedly walk to his almirah, grab a change of his clothes, and walk out swiftly, the redness on his neck and ears clearly evident to her eyes.

She quietly chuckles to herself. Jungkook has been introverted and a shy mess since she can remember. But this diffident attitude and the bashful nature of his are one of the major reasons for her, falling for him.

She shakes her head, giggling lightly, while unbuttoning her shirt halfway down, and then slides the sleeves of it off of her. She grabs the hoodie from the small pile of washed clothes on the bed, before bending her legs bearer to her, to slide off her knee length socks.

She straightens again, to toss the socks to the other side of the bed, but is startled to find Jungkook, his eyes darker than a few minutes ago, leaning against the column of the door, watching her intently.

As soon as her eyes meet his, he pushes himself off the door frame, and starts sauntering towards her, his steps heavy and thumping against the old wooden floors.

He reaches the edge of the bed, yet doesn't stop, and gets on his hands and knees, to continue to crawl towards her, until he's right in front of her. He reaches out to her shoulder, pressing against it, until she's totally laid down on the bed, still staggered by the radical alteration in his behavior.

He places his knees on either sides of her hips, both his hands set firmly on the sheets near her ears. His eyes never waver from hers, staring into her soul deeply, and she suddenly feels intimidated by him. His presence is strong and dominant, like never before, and he has her daunted and subdued.

One of his hands reach her cheek, and a shiver runs down her spine at both the coldness of his hand, and the surprise. He leans in more, till his face is directly above hers, barely centimetres away.

"Babe..." his voice is octaves lower, coming out in a mere whisper. The hand on her cheek slowly crawls down her jaw, and to her neck, but when she fears it would go further lower, it stops on her collar bone, caressing it with his forefinger and thumb. She realises the fact that her upper body is dressed in only a bra and it sets another shiver down.

His breath hits her mouth, and in a blink of the eye, his mouth overlaps her's. He feels almost weightless on the mattress, yet she still feels the heaviness of him, hovering with dominance over her. His kiss is deep, yet it feels light. Reflex causes her to shut her eyes on impact, but a gasp leaves her mouth, when she feels his other palm against the skin of her thighs revealed by her tight-skirt. His palm travels the length of it up and down, causing goosebumps to appear, which has him chuckle breathily into her mouth. He has her spellbound.

His palm stops on her upper thigh, only to grip on it, while he breaks the kiss to travel lower with his mouth, down her jawline. Open-mouthed kisses are pressed against her skin, which travel down her neck and below her ear. He travels back to the column of her neck, and a breathy moan leaves her when she feels his tongue glide up against her skin.

He continues traveling down to her collar bone, to leave a lone kiss there, and lifts his head up to her face. Her eyes, which had remained shut till now, slowly open, to finds his eyes already fixed on her. His eyes are so, so dark, that it almost seems that they are set behind a shadow. Lust can clearly be spelled out of them, yet there's no other emotion she can find in his orbs.

He is blank.

He flashes an empty smirk, before diving back down, to her collar bone, and without warning, starts sucking harshly against it, licking simultaneously. Her breathing fastens, and so does his mouth. Her fingers clutch the sheets below her, emotions becoming overwhelming for her.

A loud moan leaves her, when he bites her without notice. He sucks the area aggressively and vigorously. Her back arches at the newborn feelings inside her she's never experienced before.

His mouth detaches from her skin abruptly, at a sudden thump from outside the room. He raises his head at the sound, and freezes. Without a warning, he hastily jumps off of her, and she quickly sits back up, and wraps the sheets around her, completely addled.

He walks to the windows speedily, and pushes them open. With a last glance at her, he climbs over the window sill and jumps off, leaving her wide eyed and breathless, in utter shock.

A knock is heard on the door to the room, and she snaps her head towards it.

There stands Jungkook, his uniform changed into a pair of sweatpants and shirt, and his eyes wide and docile, and filled with care.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice soft and soothing, totally opposite to what she'd heard a few seconds earlier.

She opened her mouth to speak, yet no words leave her, as she still isn't able to comprehend what happened just now, what is right, and what is not.

She struggles to understand whether what happened was a dream or not. She wants to believe that it was a mere object of her imagination, yet the darkening bruise on her neck proves otherwise.

If this, on the door is her best friend, then who was he?

°§°

All rights reserved ©

Do not copy storyline.

¬ Hajin

[jungstruly]

Stupid Cupid || 00

You’ve ought to believe that you have a curse when it comes to love after a handful of disastrous dates, but when a certain baseball captain Lucas Wong finally looked your way, you were done with having that curse. The little love God can fuck himself anyways.

Or where in,

Best friend Haechan’s playing cupid and doing cupid’s dirty work behind your back to drive away your potential lovers all because of a pinky promise the both of you shared during high school. It’s only a matter of time until he blows his cover off. Until then, the stupid little cupid’s crazy plan to stop you from falling in love will be his top priority.

!! UPDATES EVERY TUESDAY AND SATURDAY !!

Genre || Rom-com, fuff, crack, slice of life, angst in the future, Uni!AU, Baseball!AU, Band!AU

Pairings || Business student slash bassist!Donghyuck x Architecture student!Reader x Engineering student slash baseball captain!Lucas (A side of Nursing student! Jeno, Business student!Renjun and Engineering student!Hendery)

Word Count || 3.2k

Taglist || @lelenoir, @nzeeten, @emvrd, @badwithten, @4-sun, @bl--ankhaeji, @soleilhyuck-main​, @hyuckiesoftie, @hoshitaro, @in-my-neofeelings, @chenleschurros, @deuxvous, @renjunluvr119, @neostains, @lovelyvitamin, @melxmay, @cherry-jaemin, @eyypeach, @shotoshortcake, @apollohyucks, @flirtyhyuck, @moonmystv​ can’t tag @dlndreamie & @mimika-28 for some odd reason :<

@scissorhands1617​ & @neowrld​ thank you so much for being the best beta reader I could ask for!

Send an ask or leave a comment if you want to be added in the taglist!

PROLOGUE

   “Can you not stare at me while I study my physiology notes?” Jeno grumbled from his seat across yours. He pushed his glasses back up his nose bridge which were starting to slide off from reading for too long. Eyes not leaving his study material, he clicked his pen before scribbling something on his paper. 

“You’re starting to creep me out Y.N”

You slumped on the familiar café seat as you watched your friend study his heart out, too preoccupied to notice that it’s a little half past lunch time already. The small yet famous French café located literally beside the university grounds was still packed with students. Even if it’s already the early hours of the afternoon, the whole place was still buzzing with students enjoying their favorite home cooked meal with their friends as they take a break from their busy uni life. 

You leaned your head on the wide glass window beside you.

“I can still feel you.” He mumbled and you can’t help but let out an over dramatic sigh for the nth time since the both of you sat there. Your fingers played with the metal straw of your nearly empty iced tea. Jeno still felt your eyes boring through his head.

“That’s it,” He threw his notes on the table with a groan before finally meeting your eyes. “What do you want this time?”

Crossing your arms, you let out another loud sigh. A pout is evident on your lips as the nursing student leaned back to his seat and waited for you to spill your ‘tea’. “Jeno, we’ve been best friends since high school and I know that you won’t lie to me, ever.”

He hummed in response, urging you to continue whilst he dusts his white nursing uniform.

“I need you to be completely honest with me.” You grabbed his hands. 

Your actions made Jeno’s eyebrows rise, peering from his prescribed glasses to both of your hands clasped together.  “Like super duper, one hundred and one percent honest to me. Okay?”

“You’re scaring me Y.N.”

You rolled your eyes at him. Your laughter blended with the busy café noise as you looked him dead in the eye. Jeno’s Adam's apple bobbed up and down, trying to pull his hands away from your grasp.

“Do you think I’m attractive?” You tried to give him your best smile, your eyes blinking rapidly as you try to act cute.

With a chuckle, your best friend nodded in agreement. He peeled his hands away from you and sipped his turning cold latte. Jeno being the sweetheart that he is, knew exactly what to say. “Of course you are! You’ve always been beautiful inside and out.”

“Really?” 

Your eyes lit up in an instant. “With that being said, if you were given a chance to date me, will you date me?”

Jeno choked on the coffee that he was drinking. He coughed, reaching for a clean tissue on the table to wipe the corners of his lips. 

“T-the hell?”

You were about to open your mouth when you felt a warm hand on your shoulder. The smell of cheese and basil leaves filled your senses .Your stomach grumbled and it only made you realize how hungry you were all this time.

“Y.N dear, your soup will be served in a while. Jeno, here’s your croque monsieur.”

Your coughing friend held out a thumb’s up as a thank you. His eyes fixated on the scrumptious meal in front of him despite almost choking to death. You on the other hand flashed the old woman a grin before she went back to the kitchen. 

“Thank you Mama Lee. Hyuck and Injun will be here in a while.”

Your attention went back to Jeno, handing him more tissue as he coughed on his fist. A look of disbelief was evident on his face as he eyed your sheepish figure.

The both of you looked up when a familiar brown leather messenger bag was roughly thrown beside Jeno. “That strategic management prof will be the death of me.”

The petite boy loosened his maroon necktie before he plopped down beside him with a huff. His sleeves were already rolled up as he put both arms behind his neck, leaning back to catch his breath. Renjun was about to run his mouth to talk how much of an asshole their substitute professor was when he noticed how red Jeno was.

He immediately sat straight out of excitement. “What did I miss?”

You shrugged jokingly, sipping your iced tea empty. Renjun caught a whiff of the food beside him, giving it a side eye to see if the owner’s paying attention before he went into stealth mode. Jeno immediately swatted Renjun’s hand away from his hot food but it was all too late when the culprit popped a huge crumb of cheesy goodness on his mouth with a grin.

“Y.N here asked me if she’s attractive.” Jeno said before taking a bite after his coughs subsided, giving the boy beside him a glare.

“We all know the answer to that.” Renjun snorted beside him as he tried to eat some of Jeno’s bread crumbs despite his annoyed look. 

“A huge fat No,”

You giggled, throwing him a punch across the table. “How mean, you little shit.”

“And,” Jeno swallowed down the huge bite of croque monsieur before speaking. All eyes were back on him before he shrieked in terror. 

He pushed his glasses up before pointing his finger at you. “She asked me if I would date her!”

Renjun’s hand went flying to his mouth. The both of them started to freak out as if you told them that you eat smelly socks for breakfast. You can’t help but to roll your eyes. Your lips curving upward, nevertheless. You love your best friends to bits and pieces but sometimes, you question your taste in people. 

“Remind me again why I have two morons as my friend.” You threw Jeno's used tissue, making them laugh in amusement. Your eyes caught a glimpse of the time from the clock above them as you leaned back to your seat-- only to sit right up back again. 

“Make that three. Where’s Hyuck?”

“Went to Mama Lee’s kitchen the moment he got here.” Renjun answered nonchalantly, standing up to pour himself a glass of water from the nearby counter. “That brat has always been the teacher’s favorite. It’s like his secret talent. Profs would even let him sleep in their class just because. It’s unfair.”

The news didn’t shock you and Jeno at all. Donghyuck may fool around but man, that kid is naturally good with numbers. It was old news already since he had always been a dean’s lister up until now in your third year in college. Jeno was about to take another bite when he saw your eyes fixated on it, making him offer you his food and urging you to open your mouth. You happily obliged of course.

You were munching with a smile when you heard a very familiar voice from the counter. The three of you mentally face palmed yourselves as the little devil who you were talking about earlier appeared. An apron was tied snuggly to his small waist along with his neatly folded black suit jacket draped on his forearm as he pretended to be a waiter. 

You wanted the earth to gobble you up when Donghyuck shouted your order up front, startling a lot of customers. “One onion soup for Ms. Y.N.”

He carefully set your onion soup down in front of you before setting his and Renjun’s orders down. You immediately scooped a mouthful and shoved it in your mouth. Only to realize a minute after, how hot it was.

“Of course it’s hot dumbass.” Donghyuck grabbed Renjun’s glass of water as the boy returned to his seat which earned an annoyed ‘hey’ from him. Eyes not leaving your panicked state, he sat down beside you. You emptied Renjun’s glass in no time.

“Ouch,” You stick your tongue out, in an attempt to cool it off. “Too hot,”

The boy beside you rolled his eyes with a scoff. Donghyuck started to slice the roasted chicken on his plate. “No shit Sherlock. I just popped that out from the oven. I know how much you love it when cheese turns crusty and brown.”

You grin from ear to ear as you shove a spoonful of it back to your mouth. This time, cooling it off. Renjun on the other hand snorted across from the both of you.

“Yeah, to the point of you putting half of my cheese in hers.” Jeno peered beside him before bursting into laughter. The boy beside him grunted in disbelief as he pushed his soup across the table just for everyone to see. “Look how sad it looks. Just look at this poor little thing!”

You giggled with a shrug, a bashful look already painted on your face. “Well, what can I say. I’m Hyuck’s and Mama Lee’s favorite customer after all.”

“Don’t be too full of yourself babe.” Donghyuck made sure to pinch your cheek which only earned a groan from you. You rubbed on your cheek with knitted brows. A soft smile played on your lips as you watched Donghyuck eat happily with his cute little apron tied on his waist, completely forgetting that it was still on him.

Feeling your eyes on him, he quickly sliced a huge chunk of meat. He blew some air on it in an attempt to cool the piping hot chicken before finally shoving it to your mouth.

“Aigoo, my baby,” Donghyuck laughed when he felt a punch on his shoulder. Flavors bursted on your tongue as you happily chewed. The boy beside you smiled in content, munching on his chicken again. 

“Anything I missed while I was in the kitchen?”

Jeno crossed his arms as he leaned back to his seat, watching everyone eat their heart out. “Nothing much, I was studying the whole time but Y.N here almost killed me.”

“You’re being dramatic. I could kill you if I wanted to.”

Renjun swallowed his food, clapping his hands like a seal as he remembered something.

“Y.N here has a bunch of questions.” Renjun’s eyes glinted with excitement and mischief as Jeno’s eyes met his with the exact glow. “I think you should answer them Hyuck.”

Donghyuck shrugged, reaching over to scoop from your soup to get a taste of his mom’s star dish. Your hands carefully pushed the bowl near him. “Shoot,”

You wiped your lips with a tissue before turning your body to him. He was too preoccupied with the hearty meal that he didn’t even bother to look at you.

“Am I attractive to you? Will you take me out on a date if you were given a chance, Hyuckie?”

His eyes turned like saucers as he choked on his soup, whipping his head to you just to check if you were messing with him. Your eyes blinked back at him with concern. The two boys on the other hand were laughing their asses off as they watched their friend’s struggle. Donghyuck glared at the both of them, clearly unamused. His hand started to cover his mouth to muffle his coughs.

“So,” You bite your lip. Your hand hitting his back to help him. “Won’t you?”

His eyes widened more. The poor boy violently coughed. Renjun offered him a new cup of water after laughing so hard with Jeno. Donghyuck downed the whole glass in one go, wiping his lips with the back of his hand before turning to you.

“You’re kidding.” He tried to laugh but when you shook your head with a genuine smile, he stopped. “You’re serious?”

“I’m serious.” You confirmed as you continued to eat. Donghyuck didn’t even bother to finish his meal. In fact, he felt like he was too full. He didn’t know if it was because of the soup or the butterflies whirling in his stomach.

“And why do you ask?”

Blood rose up to your cheek, nibbling on some croutons to make you look busy. “Just because,”

Jeno snapped his finger. You mentally thanked him as the attention turned to him. “I think I know why. Let me guess, is this because of that date you had with that Chenle dude during first year?”

Memories came back flooding back to you. The date you had with that wealthy Chinese business Tycoon heir was nothing but a disaster. Snippets of how he got dragged by a horse and rushed to the hospital only to find out that the poor boy broke his femur wasn’t really the best memory to have for your first date. 

“No, shut up.”

Jeno smirked from his seat as he pushed his glasses back up. Not because he was having fun teasing the hell out of you, but because Donghyuck started to sweat beside you. He mouthed Jeno a ‘fuck you’, showing him his fist in hopes of scaring him. Donghyuck remembered that day all too well as if he was there. Well, he was indeed there along with Renjun, hiding in a bush nearby as you and Chenle got a little too close for his liking.

Suddenly, Renjun bursted out laughing across from you, the metal straw still in his mouth as he sipped Jeno’s half empty coffee. He hitted Jeno’s arm out of happiness. “Second year, that date with Na Jaemin was just fucking gold.”

Renjun wheezed, eyes scrunching as he laughed. “That dumbass gave Y.N flowers and gave her an allergic reaction. Holy shit, her face was just too hideous and she even almost pooped in he-“

“Finish that sentence. See what happens.” 

You spat with brows furrowed together, only to join Renjun and Jeno’s laughter seconds later. It was embarrassing of course but it was way too funny. The second date was really a night to remember. You had to call Hyuck to pick you up halfway through your date because your face went, uh--- unrecognizable in front of your date. That night turned into a whole disaster to the point of praying everyday not to bump with Jamin inside the campus.

“Too funny,” Donghyuck tried to laugh along, making sure to give Renjun who was suggestively wiggling his eyebrows a hard glare. He fiddled with the hem of his apron.

Jeno was losing his shit as he reminisced how he helped the boy beside you buy some laxative the night before your date. You wiped your tears of happiness, totally oblivious by your three bestfriend’s mini staredown.

“I can really tell that cupid is definitely enjoying himself toying with my love life.” You joked, elbowing Donghyuck’s arm to urge him to laugh. “That little rascal.”

Jeno snickered in front of you. His eyes lingered on Haechan. “Oh, I bet cupid is having the time of his lif-“

As if on cue, Jeno yelped in pain. Donghyuck blinked back at him innocently as he tried to hide the fact that he stepped on his toe. He let out a breath of relief once he saw you laughing.

He can’t afford to let his cover be blown just because his two dickhead friends decided to bring up his crazy and obviously love sick plans for fun. Donghyuck ruining every single date that you have was a secret that he’ll bring to his grave. He can’t afford for you to know that he was the reason for every unleashed disaster in your dates. 

As he quietly went back to his meal, he couldn’t help but to breathe a sigh of relief as you started to talk excitedly about your architecture project in class. The previous conversation was already forgotten but the knowing look on Jeno and Renjun was still there.

Oh, if only you knew that cupid was a lot closer than you think. 

Literally an arm’s length away, munching on his roasted chicken with a small smile. 

That small smile didn’t even last that long when he felt your hands gripped his forearm tightly. Your squeals of excitement filled his ears as you began to shake his shoulder violently. He looked at Jeno and Renjun in hopes to know what was happening. The three boys shared a surprise look.

“Oh God.” Your eyes didn’t leave the large window still beside you, leaning on Donghyuck as you repeatedly hit his forearm. “That’s the guy! That’s the frikin guy, oh my god!”

Donghyuck pretended that he wasn’t interested in your shenanigans but he was all ears. “What guy? Use your words Y.-”

“The guy,” Hands waving excitedly in front of you, you gave your best friends a look before your attention went back to the tall mysterious guy in front of a building across the cafe you were in. 

“The guy I kept on talking about. Literally tall, lean and handsome? Remember?”

Jeno squinted as he tried to spot the guy that you were talking about. Different groups of students spread here and there which made it harder for him to find the guy. “Nah.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell.” Renjun shrugged, pushing Jeno to the side to look for ‘this guy’. Nose almost touching the window glass, he chuckled. “You have one good eyesight Y.N. I can’t clearly see people all the way from there.”

Your cheeks started to hurt from smiling. The tall guy’s head tilted back in laughter as he and his friends played around. “He’s the one I told you about? My happy crush?”

“Your happy crush,” the two boys in front of you repeated your words. It took them a couple of seconds before both of their heads whipped their heads to you-- to Haechan to be precise. “Your happy crush!”

You flinched at their sudden outburst. Not wanting any attention to the four of you, you shushed them. Donghyuck ignored their surprised look as he peered on the window beside you. His eyes spotting the familiar boy that you were gushing about. Oh dear, he knew your ‘happy crush’ very well. In fact, Donghyuck didn’t like him at all for some personal reasons. Along with the fact that he got you wrapped around his finger, of course. There’s no way in hell that he’ll tell you his name let alone meet each other. 

His eyes widened the moment he saw the tall guy with his friend started walking towards the window. In just a few feet more, you’ll get the perfect view of your ‘happy crush’s’ face in no time. Donghyuck did the unthinkable before you even returned your attention back to the window. He collapsed beside you, putting his whole weight on your body as he screwed his eyes shut.

You snorted from his side, clearly unamused. Your shoulder tried to push his body away from you. “Hyuckie! You’re heavy, now quit playing around.”

You tried to push his body away from you, when you eventually stopped trying. You decided to let the back of his head rest on your chest as you realize that the boy may or may not want to cuddle, only for your blood to run out of your face the moment Donghyuck’s body fell limp in your arms.

“Hyuckie? Hyuckie?” Your hand lightly tapped his soft, honey-skinned cheeks. The boy in your arms didn't move an inch.

“Guys,” Panic coursed through your veins, as your breath hitched. 

Jeno and Renjun were stunned while looking at each other, finally piecing out that this could be Hyuck's heat stroke tendency. 

“I think we need to call the ambulance.”

Next >

[darkromanceblackburn]

Chromeskull blackmailing the reader after he sees her kill her abusive father. Her father use to let Jesse use his funeral parlor and such so now the reader has to as well It's tense at first but Jesse ends up gaining feelings for and readers unsure what she feels about him until he saves her life from home invader. Sorry for the word vomit. 😊

Not exactly what you wanted, but I hope it turned out right at last 50%

Chromeskull x Reader- Farewell Job

There were a few things that Jesse Cromeans disliked, down from having his car scratched to a wrinkled suit, the most were when someone was in debt to him and the fucker had the audacity to play dumb and not answer his texts, especially the threatening ones. Normally, he would let his co-workers deal with such insignificant concerns, but none ignored Jesse Chromeskull Cromeans and got away without at last a broken wrist.

That's why he was driving at midnight full-on speed down the road to the funeral house where the old geezer was doing his business, and where Jesse sometimes decapitated his piggies. He couldn't wait to sink his knife into the man's back, maybe skin his legs off? He will have time to think about it once he has him bound to a chair begging for his life.

After one hour of speeding down and ignoring red lights, he managed to get to the said funeral house, parking the Bentley as the engine's sound died down into the silence of the night. Getting out of the car, he put on the chromed skull mask, smirking at the familiar coldness of it. He took the silver suitcase and waltzed to the front entrance which was surprisingly open.

No wonder...The disgusting bastard had a habit of drinking and always forgot to lock it. Not the first time.

Jesse expected to see the old scumbag passed down on a chair or better yet on the floor, blackout drunk, but imagine the surprised behind the silver mask when he saw the man on the floor with his head bashed in, brains spilling out.

Well, that is surely unexpected.

The old and rusty skin close by with pieces of the brain was probably the primary weapon.

Someone got here first.

Jesse took one step towards the corpse and he heard a door open and felt something sharp slash the black material of his coat along with a slightly deep wound of his biceps.

Brown eye locked on a feral face twisted into a deadly scowl that promised murder. The culprit was a female, young, and was ready to aim another hit, but Jesse was quicker and he knocked what looked like a scalpel from the tiny hand. His hand fisted her shirt and slammed her against the wall, pinning her there.

Despite the position she was in, no fear was in her eyes that were bloodshot, probably from lack of sleep. She was still snarling like she wanted to bite his head off.

"Let me go or I will cut your balls off!" You screamed at him, nails digging into the sleeves of his coat, trying to inflict some type of pain.

Jesse waisted little no time and after some struggling and an almost painful hit to his manhood, he had you bound to a chair, glaring at him with acidic eyes.

For someone so small you sure were a feisty one. He smirked behind the mask at your immobilized form. He couldn't recall the last time he was faced with such a dangerous piggy.

His usual piggies were always begging, pleading for their lives, or just running away, but fighting back was a low occurrence. To say the least, he was impressed, not many had hurt him and you did it so well, the stinging in his biceps hurt like a bitch, but Jesse was used to being stabbed and shot, all the tattoos of covering up his scars were proof to that.

He was looming over you, debating what he should do. He was so tempted to rip your jaw off, but that wasn't the primary reason why he was here. He needed some information because the fucker that was in debt to him was dead.

Jesse pulled out his phone and quickly typed in.

'Who are you, piggy?'

You arched an eyebrow at the tall man.

"Why should I answer you?"

WITTY PIGGY.

'Because I can do worse than what happened to that corpse over there.'

"The fucker had it coming." You found yourself muttering under your breath.

That piqued Jesse's interest. You seemed to speak with venom when mentioned about the old male.

'Related?'

"Father....But why the fuck do you even care?!" Your aggressive demeanor quickly came back and Jesse had to admit the way your brows were furrowing and eyes blazing with fury were kind of cute.

'Because your DEAR father owns me a lot of money.'

"Not my fucking problem." You snarled and in the dim light, Jesse could see the old purple bruises around your left eye, along with deep fingerprints on your neck.

Not done by him. It didn't take a genius to figure out what your father did to you. No wonder you were like a tiger that came out of a circus cage, ready to destroy everything in your path.

'I must admit, you put on a good show. I'm impressed.'

"Flattery won't get you anywhere, jerk." You snorted.

Jesse licked his lips behind the mask, so tempted to use that mouth of yours for other things that cursing him out.

Yes, killing you won't get him any benefice, although he was tempted to cut your tongue off.

'You own me.'

You spat on his silver mask, making his chest rumble like he was ready to pounce you, but Jesse composed himself.

"I don't own you shit." You muttered in a murderous tone and if Jesse could talk he sure would laugh.

'You have no idea in what deepness you are, little girl.'

You internally groaned at the use of his words, always been treated like you were some hopeless child that couldn't stand up for themselves.

Well, tonight you proved everyone wrong by your masterpiece a few feet away from you two.

"Care to enlighten me why?" you asked, curious about what he was implying.

The skull masked man's broad shoulders moved up and down, silently chuckling at your blind eyes of what was happening. He began to type, this time taking a little longer.

'Tell me if I am wrong, but you just killed someone and you will most likely go to jail, despite that you will say that it was in pure defense. Judges these days aren't so merciful, doll. You wouldn't want to rot between four walls of concrete, would you now?'

You swallowed down at the electronic voice, nibbling on your lower lip in thought. As much as you hated it, he was right and by your expression, his body language spoke of satisfaction.

Egocentric jerk.

Here goes the typing again.

'But I am willing to make you a sweet deal that will assure you freedom. Your father owned me cash that you couldn't make even if you sucked on old men cocks all your life.'

You felt disgusted and if your hands were free you would have shown that phone down the man's throat.

"You're saying that...."

'Work for me and you will be safe.'

"Doesn't sound like freedom to me."

'Better than jail, no?'

Winning asshole.

----------------------------------

Your opinion on Jesse Cromeans was that he was a man which you would love go gauge his remaining brown eye out, that was the first month, but in time you learned to live with him being your 'boss'.

Nothing screamed dream job than cleaning the mess after the killings of your boss.

If you looked that over you could say that your life was at last perfect. He always made sure you had everything you needed and you couldn't be happier; down from expensive clothing to delicious rich food, you were spoiled, so different from your past life.

You were currently scrubbing down the tiles of a bathroom after a 'piggy' as your boss liked to call them had her guts spilled out. You whipped the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand, then you heard footsteps approach.

When you turned around you were meet with the scarred face of Jesse, the black eyepatch covering the empty socket of his eye, the remaining brown one observing your work.

'You get better and better.' he signed.

The first thing that Jesse did when you agreed to work for him was to take you to ASL lessons because typing over again on his phone was irritating.

"I take that was a compliment." you muttered, throwing the rags into a black bag to be burned.

'Are you free tonight?' he signed.

"Another murder scene that needs to be cleaned?" you asked, disposing of your gloves.

Jesse chuckled silently and stepped to your form, taking your chin between his fingers, your eyes moving from his face to his full inked forearms. His hand left your chin to sign.

'No. Dinner tonight. I've got you a nice dress and shoes.' he signed, making you look at him dumbfounded.

"B-But you're my boss and-" you tried to reason, but a finger pressed to your lips.

You wanted to yell at him that this was forbidden, not to mention the age gap between the two of you.

'Taboo? You know I am notorious for being a nonconformist.' he signed with a smug smirk.

You rolled your eyes and stepped away from him, exiting the warehouse and walking outside.

"You are contemptible." you mused and Jesse followed after you.

'So? Tonight? At 7?' he insisted, ignoring your insults.

You couldn't deny that it was tempting. He wasn't like any other man, always sybaritic, fast-living, and exorbitant luxurious vibes.

You could swear that he was the perfect incarnation of pride, not that you minded, because it was attractive, just like the forbidden fruit. You knew how poisonous he was, but the sweetest taste was mind-blowing.

"Do I have to wear heels?" you asked, making him grin, his arms wrapping around your waist, a squeak leaving your lips at the sudden touch.

His expression spoke more: 'What do you think?'

You groaned, resting your forehead against his chest.

"You own me big time for this."

[havetheavengersdoneanythingwrong]

Prelude -- Safety

The cowardly Master keeps moving, step by step. The Master beside him, striding forth with their kouhai in tow, find themselves in the hot seat.

Struggling forwards, their next challenger remains a familiar face -- a fading, fated encounter.

The burning fires grow hotter still.

Within the city, navigation grew tougher still -- no longer could one even use the remains of the city outskirts to determine north from south. What the broken building's didn't cover, the endless flames did.

So far, the only hope lay in Kagekiyo -- about the only one here who had any sort of bearings here. Perhaps the flames didn't affect them, or perhaps they were simply more attentive than the normal human. Despite Olga Marie's grumblings, the Avenger still took the lead, seemingly slipping through broken-down alley and fiery roads at random.

"We're getting nowhere... How do we know that they don't think we're --" "--Don't start tempting fate now, Olga. I get that having an Avenger as one of our only allies isn't exactly reassuring, but doubting them this much is going to make things worse."

'Thank God for Ritsuka,' I mumbled to myself, barely overhearing them speaking to Olga. The soft grin, relaxed muscles, and laidback posture they kept did wonders for the nerves of their coworkers -- something someone like Olga likely needed badly at the moment.

Suddenly, a slight cloud of ash shot up to my face -- and quickly brushing it off my face, I found myself hearing the sound of two objects clashing --

--Steel and wood. Before even registering what had just occurred before me, a clash had begun, and just as easily been cut short.

As the dust settled, my eyes first moved to one of Kagekiyo's katana, then the seemingly normal wooden staff that caught it. Held by an arm covered in a blue cloak, partially covering their face with the hood --

Just in front of Kagekiyo stood a blue-clad, pale man, his face adorned by a casual smirk.

"...You're no Genji," the Avenger muttered, taking a step backwards and sheathing their blades in unison.

"'Genji?' Can't say it rings a bell, but... Say. You all look normal, for a change. Put down your weapons -- I'd rather not start another fight."

The blue-clad Caster stepped towards us, only now flicking off the hood that obscured his face. Greeted by a face seemingly all-too-familiar to Olga Marie, the Director let out a sigh as though she'd been holding it back for days.

"Finally, some sanity! You're C--"

"--Keep it down."

Almost instantly deflating the poor Director's excitement, as she tried to snap herself back into serious mode, the Caster raised a finger to their cheek, tapping it gently.

"Listen, I'll cut to the chase. You've probably noticed all the Servants you've fought aren't really Servants. A bit more aptly, they're replicas."

To this, Kagekiyo nodded silently, the grip on her katana's hilt tightening slightly, as the Caster continued.

"There's reason for that. Every Servant that was defeated here got turned into... whatever those were. I'm lucky I survived, but there's nothing left here."

As the Caster glanced away for a time, trying to think of what to say next, a footstep to my left alerted me of Ritsuka piping up.

"What caused this to happen?"

As my gaze turned to the other Master, I found their laidback grin faded -- their form slightly more tense.

"That's simple," the blue Caster responded, "Saber. She's turned all of them into whatever those are. And... this war won't stop until you do her in."

...

A straight answer -- but judging by the furrowed brow Ritsuka now wore, and the widened eyes of the Director beside them, this hardly spelled anything good.

"...The only Saber of the Fuyuki Grail War was..."

...Ritsuka hardly needed to finish their sentence. Olga wouldn't dare to, either -- even without the knowledge the others seemed to have, I could understand the odds were stacked against us. Even if we had an Avenger, two Casters, and Mash on our side -- their worried expressions gave good reason not to be confident in success.

Trying to dismiss the feeling of something taking hold of my neck, I reckoned it my time to speak up.

"How do we do that?"

Even despite the mildly incredulous gazes flung my way, I held my ground on the question. To this, the blue Caster took it upon himself to survey the Servants we had -- Mash included -- his eyes moving along each one of us as though gauging our odds of success on the spot.

"...The lady with the shield. What is your name?"

"M-Mash Kyrielight, sir."

At being called by the Caster, Mash stepped forward, moving her shield slightly to lean against it properly.

"...Your weapon is a shield, isn't it? It's possible your defensive Noble Phantasm could block Saber's attacks enough for everyone else to attack properly."

The blue Caster's eyes remained dead on Mash, waiting for a response -- only met with the lady turning her gaze to the floor.

"...You don't have one?"

"I... don't know, sir."

...The blue Caster thought for a moment, directing his gaze momentarily towards the other two Servants -- first to Kagekiyo, whose gaze hadn't moved from him at all, then to the younger Caster, who'd until now let the adults keep talking.

Then, the Caster snapped two fingers together, and turned around.

"That's entirely fixable, Mash. Come with me, all of you -- I have an idea."

--

The western flames hid a small cave beyond them, accessible through a heavily-worn path through a broken building. Avoiding chunks of steel and concrete that had fallen haphazardly to the ground, the blue Caster only stopped at the entrance to the cave -- waiting a moment for Olga Marie to catch up before continuing.

"This cave has the secret to Mash's Noble Phantasm, probably. I'm going to need Mash, and the two Masters, to enter. Nobody else."

Before the Avenger could open their mouth to speak, the blue Caster raised their finger to their mouth -- mouthing something that Kagekiyo appeared to have understood. The young Caster, though, seemed perfectly content to sit back for the time being, as did Olga Marie.

...Though, the blue Caster's eyes darted between me and Olga Marie for a moment -- before settling on me, smiling slightly.

"Doesn't look like we're going to need any runes for you. Just get in there -- I swear it'll work."

With quite possibly the least convincing pep talk of all time, Ritsuka, Mash, and myself were pushed into a horribly dark cave.

--

...Nothing could be seen. Only a few odd torches lit the way in the cave, spaced just a little bit too far apart. The brief flickers of light would often give way to a nigh-endless darkness, all-encompassing.

'...It's almost nostalgic.'

Even so, I could make some sense of where my teammates were -- Ritsuka to my left, controlling their breathing. Their bracelet rattled against their wrist faintly, beads shaking just enough to strike each other. To my right, Mash. The clinking of her armour gave her right away, even if that armour was barely armour to begin with. The heavy shield, almost scraping against the ground at times, hardly helped. And behind me, a skeleton. The rattle of its bones gave it right away --

...Wait.

"Ritsuka! Behind us!"

Narrowly ducking just in time for what was likely a blade to sweep over me instead of through me, Mash wasted no time at all jumping behind me, striking the fragile beast with a bash of her shield. Yet, the second that one fell, the all-too-familiar sound of rattling bones grew, like a Greek chorus that grew to encompass us entirely. In a moment, I found myself backpedalling until I hit a wall -- Ritsuka following suit, tapping a spot on the ground before us with his foot to give Mash an indicator of where to go in this darkness.

There had to have been around nine, perhaps more. Trying to parse the sounds of one skeleton from another was almost impossible -- only mildly feasible when one's walking made a separate noise from another. However many there was, each approached Mash in groups of three -- as if to surround her, and get to us.

"--Mash! You can handle this, right?!"

"I'll be fine, Senpai!"

Even saying that, I could faintly hear her movement -- going backwards, desperately attempting to cover three skeletons at once, before raising her shield and swiping each skull off with one slash of the 'less blunt' portion of her shield.

'I suppose a skeleton would fall apart to anything faintly blade-shaped.'

Even so, they would only keep on coming -- wave, after wave -- arrows slung over us, blades narrowly blocked by the shield Mash carried. Even without the ability to see properly in this darkness, I could've sworn I'd heard six, maybe seven of them, wailing away at Mash's shield.

And yet, nothing was happening. Mash just kept waiting, then slicing down as many as she could, before waiting once more. This rush of enemies just wasn't enough -- clearly, something picked up on by the blue Caster, who now found himself before them, as Mash cleared the final skeletons from the area.

"...You did well. But considering that wasn't enough to make you get serious, it looks like I'll have to instead."

The rattling of Ritsuka's bracelet grew a little louder, and the gasp of one of us could be heard to the right. Yet, the blue Caster said little, stepping back to prepare his staff.

"I believe her Noble Phantasm will trigger if she needs it, and she will find the name then. But she has to need it first."

"H-Hold on! I would've needed extra help for those skeletons!"

Though Mash stepped forward in protest, the Caster laughed a bit -- lighting a flame to illuminate all four of us in the cave.

"You handled them just fine. You'd need it to even survive -- that's when you will find it. If you can't withstand my Noble Phantasm, you have little hope of even attempting to resist Saber's."

Even as Ritsuka opened their mouth to talk, the gaze of the Caster spoke all that had to be said -- leaving the Master only able to grit their teeth.

"...Mash. Prepare for combat!"

"Yes, Senpai!"

In a moment, the Caster made quick work of attacking first. A series of fireballs, seemingly directed towards Mash.

'Thank the gods... Nothing towards me, yet.'

Such a shot was easy enough for Mash to block. Each ball struck her shield, and dispersed just as quickly -- only one or two fireballs getting through.

Yet, those few fireballs still made their mark -- as the Shielder winced from the sudden burning feeling spreading through her arm, as a fireball struck true.

"Good defence -- but not perfect."

The Caster appeared to be relaxed enough, even now, to give mid-battle critique -- even as Mash closed the distance in only a few steps, seemingly already intent on bashing the Caster with as much force as she could put behind that massive block of steel.

But all it took was a single well-placed dodge to have Mash fall face-first into the ground -- rolling onto her back just in time to eat a fireball directly to her arm.

"Mash?! Damnit..."

Ritsuka stepped forward, already tempted to use his Command Seals -- only backing down once more as Mash stood back up. Placing her burnt arm behind her back to try and protect it from further arm, she'd again position her shield in front of her -- and watch.

"...I'm not getting anywhere fast."

The Caster furrowed his brow, thinking aloud, seemingly realizing the futility of trying to whittle down Mash. However -- there was something more he could do.

"My magecraft is a cage of flames."

'...He's doing it.'

The Caster oriented his staff horizontally, his casual grin fading away.

"A flaming, yet verdant giant."

Mash began to step back.

"Retribution. A shrine that purifies the evil of human affairs."

Her foot, then, landed directly onto a flame that had just now sprouted -- growing powerful, impossible, in mere moments, as if to engulf her.

"The one who destroys--"

The Caster slammed the bottom of his staff upon the ground.

"Wicker Man!"

--Before the Shielder could even escape, before her rose a being that only barely fit the cave it was in. A massive 'cage' shaped like a man -- the flames beneath it serving to execute whichever poor soul became locked in its walls.

Yet, as the flames tore its legs ever so slowly, its concern remained purely on the Shielder -- the Caster grinning slightly, as the hand of the Wicker Man lowered itself upon Mash.

"Mash?! --Caster, stop this! She's going to-"

"--If she fails this test, she would just as soon die by Saber's hand! If she doesn't learn now, she won't ever get the chance!"

--Just as the Master beside me took a step forward, then another, as if intent on attacking this Caster themselves --

--My eyes fell to the Shielder, her eyes wide as saucers, quaking, yet holding up that shield of hers.

Whispering something perhaps similar to a faint wish to be safe.

As she closed her eyes, forced to place faith into the steel that lay in front of her --

--in a moment, the flame beneath her was blown away, and the hand of the Wicker Man collided with an icy-blue barrier.

[sachigram]

Truss

((click here to read on ao3!!))

When Shizuo was little, before he ever lost his temper at his brother and lifted the fridge, he learned about soulmates in school along with everyone else. He didn't have much interest in it— no one in his class really did. All of them were too young to understand, and romance in general was far less interesting than running around outside and skinning their knees up. Shizuo thought to himself, if soulmates were really something, and lots of people had one, then he wouldn't have to work too hard or think too much about it. Everything would work itself out in the end.

As he got older and his fuse got shorter and shorter, he realized how difficult soulmates actually were to come by. Most people never met their soulmates— Shinra would often babble about the actual statistics, but he'd shut up when he saw Shizuo getting pissed off about it. Probability aside, even if someone was fated to be with Shizuo, he knew they likely would never approach him even if they found each other. People avoided Shizuo, and as he grew into himself, he started avoiding them, too.

And then. Then, there was Izaya.

The day he met Orihara Izaya, Shizuo immediately got a headache just from looking at the guy. Izaya was ethereal looking, a mischievous smirk planted on his pretty face, his hair dark and messy, yet falling in artful waves like it was styled that way. His eyes seemed blood red in the orange light from the sunset, and Shizuo hated him instantly. It really was as simple as that.

They fought; Izaya slashed at Shizuo with a knife, and then Shizuo got hit by a car while chasing after him. Things only got worse as they got older, and to this day, Shizuo can't even look at Izaya without being filled with the need to chase him down and bash his pretty face in. Nothing else really ever seems to matter.

After a particularly bad fight of theirs, Shizuo ends up at Shinra's, blood soaking through his shirt. He's pissed off about it for multiple reasons: Izaya slashed him up again, his white shirt is completely ruined, and Izaya got away. Shizuo is chewing a hole in his cheek when he flops onto Shinra's couch and lets the doctor patch him up.

“Oh, wow,” Shinra says, dabbing at Shizuo's wounds with a little cotton ball. “It looks like he carved his name in you.”

“What?” Shizuo barks, looking down. Sure enough, the characters of Izaya's first name are slashed into Shizuo's chest, right across the first scar Izaya ever gave him. “What the fuck!”

“I'm surprised you didn't notice until now,” Shinra says.

“He did it so fast! I was too busy trying to hit him. Fucking flea!”

“Relax, it's not deep. I doubt it'll scar. He probably did it just to make you even madder.” Shinra dabs something that stings over the gashes, and Shizuo grumbles low in his throat, imagines going to Izaya's apartment and yanking his head off.

“He really is the worst.” Celty's PDA says exactly what Shizuo is thinking, and Shizuo nods in agreement. Shinra sighs.

“He goes all out for Shizuo-kun, that's for sure.” He applies an ointment before he digs around in his kit for some bandages. “You know... The way you guys are with each other... Have you considered you might be soulmates?”

Shizuo waits a moment before responding, because he's pretty sure Shinra might be making a shitty joke, but when Shinra just keeps right on working, Shizuo flicks him on his forehead.

“Ow! What the heck was that for?!” Shinra yelps, looking at Shizuo with teary eyes. “I'm patching you up, and this is the thanks I get?!”

“Don't pair me up with that rotten louse! I get enough of that from the girl who hangs out with Kadota!” Shizuo huffs before reclining back into the couch. “Izaya's just an insane little fucker who hates me. There's no romance involved.”

“Well, yeah, but...” Shinra frowns, rubs his forehead, and goes back to bandaging Shizuo. “He's literally all you think about. That's a sign.”

“He makes my life hell! Of course I think about him! If I stop paying attention to him, he'll do something even worse.”

“Hmm.” Shinra doesn't seem particularly convinced. “Well, there's nothing I can do about it if neither of you will listen to reason. I'm only saying, if it is that you're mated, letting it go to waste because of some rivalry is childish.”

“Rivalry?! He— You!”

“Just keep it in mind. It wouldn't be the weirdest thing to ever happen around here.”

Shizuo begs to differ. The thought alone of being Izaya's soulmate is strange enough that Shizuo feels a little nauseous. They can't be near each other without fighting. Shizuo thinks being alone is much better than being matched with someone who clearly wants him dead.

***

Shizuo doesn't see or hear from Izaya a few weeks after their fight.

At first, he revels in the quiet. He goes to work, hangs out with Tom and Vorona, sees his brother. Shinra has mentioned Izaya is busy with work or something, and that's why things have been running so smoothly.

After the first week, Shizuo begins to feel uneasy.

Izaya being quiet can't be a good thing, right? He's got to be involved in...something. He'd never allow Shizuo a moment's peace, and if he's letting it happen now, it means something worse is around the corner. Shizuo feels antsy and jittery, waiting for something he doesn't know for sure will happen.

By the second week, Shizuo is physically ill. He tries to carry on as usual. He's never been one to get sick, as his immune system is excellent, but he hasn't been sleeping much, and he thinks maybe he caught something because he hasn't been taking care of himself.

Tom takes one look at Shizuo and shakes his head, pointing to the door.

“No way, you look terrible. Vorona and I can handle things today. Go home and get some rest, man.”

“It's nothing,” Shizuo mutters, though he does feel terrible.

“You have plenty of sick days since you never use them. C'mon, go relax a little. I'll call and check in on you later,” Tom says, and Shizuo accepts defeat. Tom is hard to argue with, especially since he's never sent Shizuo home before. Shizuo must really look as bad as he feels.

“Would you like me to send you a list of remedies proven to alleviate cold symptoms?” Vorona asks.

“No, thanks though. I'll just try to sleep it off.”

He's lying on his couch later when his phone rings. He expects it to be Tom, but it's Shinra. Sighing, Shizuo answers, knowing Shinra will just keep calling.

“What?” he snaps.

“Shizuo-kun? You sound weird,” Shinra says.

“I'm sick.” Shizuo doesn't really want to tell Shinra that, as Shinra will likely use it as a reason to come bother him, but if he brings medicine along, Shizuo will tolerate it.

“Sick? You?” Shinra pauses. “You never get sick.”

“Yeah, I guess I'm due. I just feel shitty. I'm tired but I can't sleep and— ugh, my head is fucking throbbing.”

“Hmm. Did this just start today?”

“No, a few days ago. It's just been getting worse. Why? Is there something going around?” Shizuo asks. He hopes he didn't expose Tom and Vorona to the flu or something.

“You could say that!” Shinra laughs a bit, and Shizuo tenses up. He hates when Shinra does this, acts like he knows something no one else does, and then refuses to share. It reminds Shizuo too much of Izaya.

“Is there a reason you fucking called me? Your voice is making my head hurt worse,” Shizuo growls, and Shinra's laughing stops abruptly.

“Ah, sorry! Yes, Celty ran into Tom-san and Vorona-san today! She noticed you weren't there and asked me to call. I'll let her know you're fine.”

“I'm not fine. Do you have anything for headaches? All I have is ibuprofen and it's not doing shit.” Shizuo doesn't keep many pain remedies around. He's never really had a use for them.

“I don't think I have anything that'll help. Just get some rest and, uh. Let me know how you feel by Sunday.”

Shinra hangs up then, and Shizuo is left glaring at his phone. He's thankful it's the weekend. Hopefully, if he spends his off days lounging around and taking medicine, it'll pass by the time he's supposed to return to work.

Throughout the weekend, it only gets worse.

Saturday night, his head is pounding so bad he can't keep his eyes open. He tries to go to bed early and wakes an hour later feeling feverish. He gets out of bed to get some water, and then he winds up running to the bathroom to vomit. He's never gotten sick like this before. He calls Shinra, who promises to visit him in the morning.

Sunday morning, Shizuo is wrapped in two blankets on the couch. He's starving and exhausted, but he can't seem to eat or sleep. Even smoking isn't an option for him right now. He's miserable enough to relent to Shinra examining him. Shinra, of course, looks thrilled.

“So, you say it's been getting worse throughout the week?” Shinra asks as he takes Shizuo's vitals.

“Yeah. Every day it's just harder to deal with it,” Shizuo mutters. He's wearing his sunglasses inside because the lights are torturing him.

“I see,” Shinra says, and he studies the results he's written down. He frowns a bit, and then he pulls another chart from a file in his briefcase. He holds the two together in front of his face, and his face pales.

“What? What is it?” Shizuo asks, a little worried. He's been thinking this might be something bad, especially if his extremely powerful immune system can't fight it off.

“It's, uh. It's nothing,” Shinra squeaks, putting the papers away.

“You don't look like it's nothing,” Shizuo says. “What, am I dying or something? Aren't you legally obligated to tell me if I'm dying?”

“A simple check-up wouldn't tell me if you were dying,” Shinra says with a laugh, and then he's rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Look, I have an idea of what it is... But if I tell you now, you'll only get pissed off at me, and I don't want a fist in my face, especially if I'm wrong. I need to do something before I tell you for sure.”

“What the fuck?” Shizuo asks. “There's a test involved?”

“Yes! A test. We should know for sure by tomorrow!”

“I have to work tomorrow!” Shizuo protests.

“I'll give you some pills to take the edge off the headache. It won't get rid of it, but knowing you, you can power through.” Shinra packs up his things, and Shizuo scoffs at him.

“What incredible medical advice. You're telling me to deal with it.”

“I'm telling you it's nothing to worry over! Well...at least not at the moment. Worst case, you miss work tomorrow, too. Surely you have more than enough sick leave to use since you're never sick.” Shinra gives him a smile, and then he reaches in his pocket before tossing a pill bottle at Shizuo. “Take two of those. They might help you sleep, too.”

“Thanks,” Shizuo says dryly. “Do I need to do anything for this test of yours, or am I supposed to just wait around for you to get back to me?”

“Ah...” Shinra looks sheepish again. “I have to make another house call, and then... Well, if I survive, we'll figure it out from there!”

Shizuo doesn't bother asking for an explanation. Shinra never gives straight answers, especially if he's trying to avoid giving Shizuo bad news in person. Shizuo closes and locks the door behind Shinra when he leaves, and then Shizuo goes to the sink, puts two pills on his tongue, and chases them with water straight from the tap.

That night, Shizuo feels groggy and manages to sleep in waves, though it's always a fitful, shallow sleep. It's better than no sleep at all, and Shizuo feels well enough to heat up some canned soup and keep it down. He still feels feverish, so he's walking around his apartment with blankets draped over him. Tom calls a little after Shizuo washes his dinner dishes.

“Yo. Feeling any better?” Tom greets.

“Yeah, a little. Shinra came by and gave me some pills,” Shizuo says. He moves back towards the couch.

“If you need tomorrow off, just let me know,” Tom says. “We don't have any major targets anyway. Vorona can handle them.”

“I know. I'll wait till the morning to decide for sure. If I don't feel well, I'll give you a call.” Shizuo chats with Tom a little longer, and then he passes out in front of the TV.

Right after three in the morning, Shizuo wakes once more.

He feels terrible, but more than that, he feels ravenous, like he hasn't eaten in days. Technically, he hasn't, as soup doesn't count for much, nutrition wise. He groans and gets up from the couch, deciding to just walk to the convenience store down the street and find something to fill him up, as he doesn't have anything else to eat aside from rice.

There isn't anyone else on the street this early in the morning. Shizuo passes a few cabs, but he doesn't walk by anyone. It smells like rain, and the breeze feels good on his skin, though he shivers a bit as he walks. He's always enjoyed walking, especially when it's dark out. The way the lights illuminate everything around him make him feel relaxed, though his headache has him wearing his shades to keep the worst of the lights from exacerbating his already throbbing temples.

He grabs a few snacks and checks out with the clerk, who looks half-asleep and wary of Shizuo, who probably resembles a zombie at this point. Shizuo exits the store and lights a cigarette as he walks, knowing a good portion of his headache might be withdrawal. It drops from his lips and hits the ground when someone steps in front of him, the last person he'd like to see.

“Izayaaaaaaaa,” Shizuo hisses, tightening his hands into fists. He has to stop himself from throwing his snacks at Izaya, who doesn't seem well in the least.

“Shizu-chan,” Izaya lilts, waving his hand in greeting. He looks almost waifish, and the dark circles under his eyes make Shizuo wonder how bad his own must be. “You're up late.”

“I can't fucking sleep,” Shizuo says, and then he grumbles. “Why are you in Ikebukuro?”

“Oh, you know.” Izaya shrugs. “I can't sleep either, and it's been a while since I came this way.”

“You're too fucking close to my building,” Shizuo says, and Izaya feigns a surprised expression.

“You're right! I am awfully close to your hovel, aren't I? I must be delirious.”

“Are you sick? You look like shit.”

“So do you,” Izaya says, and then he crosses his arms. He sniffs a bit. “Are you going to break my arm if I go into the store? I was going to buy a bottle of tea.”

“They have tea in Shinjuku,” Shizuo says.

“Yes, but I'm already here!”

Shizuo expects his head to pound again, because out of everyone in his life, Izaya pisses him off the most. Weirdly enough, he feels...better? Maybe those pills Shinra gave him are starting to work.

“Whatever,” Shizuo mutters at last. “If you do anything, I'll kill you later. I'm too tired to deal with you right now.”

He walks towards Izaya, who stiffens a bit. He doesn't know why he does it, but Shizuo bumps shoulders with Izaya as he passes, and Izaya doesn't do anything in retaliation.

Both of them must really be sick and delusional.

***

When he wakes up again, Shizuo feels great, like he was never sick at all. He doesn't question it too much, since this is usually how colds work for him. He'll feel a little sluggish, and then perfectly normal again. Maybe this was just a bad flu or something. Either way, it's over now, so Shizuo goes to work as usual, and he doesn't think about it again until Shinra calls him a little after he gets back home.

“Did you see Izaya-kun last night?” Shinra asks as soon as Shizuo picks up the phone.

“What the... Yeah? I ran into him at fucking three in the morning.”

“Did you...interact with him?” Shinra asks.

“A little bit. We didn't fight. Is Izaya sick, too? He looked like a skeleton. I didn't feel right about attacking him.” Shizuo has a bad feeling in his stomach, and he doesn't know why.

“This might sound odd, but please don't get too angry,” Shinra says. “Did Izaya-kun touch you at all? Even in passing?”

Shizuo freezes in his tracks. He was going to his fridge to get a beer, but now his stomach is lurching uncomfortably.

“He... No. No, I brushed against him. I think I was threatening him, or... I mean, I didn't think about it.” Shizuo swallows. “Why?”

Shinra sighs, and Shizuo knows he isn't going to like what comes next.

“Your symptoms matched with Izaya-kun's. Everything on your chart, your heart-rate, your temperature, your maladies—everything matched. You both got sick at the same time, right when Izaya-kun was too busy with work to interact with you. It got worse and worse for the two of you until you saw Izaya-kun again, and as soon as you touched, even brushing past, both of your symptoms went away.”

“...huh?” Shizuo's voice sounds small even to him. Shinra clears his throat.

“Do you understand what it is I'm getting at? I know I...mentioned before about being mated to Izaya-kun. You refused to entertain the idea, and so did he. I couldn't do any tests without your consent. But now... Shizuo-kun, this is more than being mated. This is... Are you familiar with a soul bond?”

“A what? You're... Are you saying Izaya is my soulmate? This is— You're sure?” Shizuo wants to feel angry. He wants to refute this and prove Shinra wrong, but as it is, he just feels empty inside.

“I've told you before about the rarity of soulmates. Some people have marks, and every now and then, mated pairs will find each other. Neither you nor Izaya-kun have marks, so it was hard to tell, but when you both got sick from being apart... This is deeper than a normal soul-link, not that those are anything to take lightly. A bond is extremely, extremely rare. There's only been one case in the last year, and it's been over five years since any in Japan have been reported.”

“I don't... I don't get it. I have a soul bond with Izaya? What's that mean?”

“You and Izaya-kun are essentially two halves of one whole. You can't be apart from him without feeling the effects. As insane as it sounds, the two of you were able to keep yourselves sated by fighting—hitting each other, touching at all, even with ill-intent. The moment you met, this started, but it wasn't until you stopped seeing Izaya-kun that the withdrawal crept in.” There's the sound of shifting, fabric rustling. “I'm saying Izaya-kun is more than your soulmate, Shizuo-kun.”

“I don't believe you,” Shizuo says, though he does. He wondered, at least a little, why he felt better as soon as Izaya crossed his path. “You don't know for sure.”

“It's not one-hundred percent,” Shinra relents. “There are a few more tests I can do, if the two of you cooperate.”

“Fine, whatever, anything to prove you wrong!”

Shinra comes by the next day with a sheet of paper filled with questions. They're strange, it's by far the weirdest test Shizuo has ever taken. It asks about dreams, intrusive thoughts, sudden cravings he's had that he's never had before. He fills it out honestly, knowing that lying won't get him anywhere. When he's done, he looks expectantly at Shinra, who is reading them over.

“So?” he barks. “Do they match or whatever?”

“Izaya-kun hasn't taken his test yet,” Shinra says. “He's taking this much worse than you are.”

“Why?!” Shizuo growls. “He's the one who starts everything! He's the awful one! It should be me who refuses to cooperate!”

Shinra shrugs. “Tell him that.”

Five days go by, and Shizuo doesn't hear anything from Shinra. He also doesn't see or hear from Izaya, and by the sixth day, the headache is back. In a fit of rage, Shizuo finds himself opening Izaya's contact. He sends a text.

Does your head hurt?

An hour passes. Shizuo is about to stomp all the way to Shinjuku, but then his phone goes off.

Don't tell me you're actually entertaining this. Izaya sends.

What the fuck else am I supposed to do?

No response. Shizuo waits another fifteen minutes before sending another message.

What if he's right?

Izaya responds right away.

He's not right.

You must have thought he was a little since you came to see me at 3am.

No response. Shizuo roars in rage, which only makes his head hurt worse. He sends another texts, his thumbs pressing so hard against his phone screen, he worries he might crack it.

Take the fucking test or I'm going to tie you up and make you do it.

Kinky ;) Izaya sends.

TAKE THE GODDAMN TEST

Oh, fine. When he ends up being wrong, you can stop acting so pitiful.

The next day, Shizuo doesn't hear anything from Shinra or Izaya. Usually, he'd welcome the quiet, but at the moment, he wants to hear something, anything. His head is beginning to pound unbearably, and he has to take sleeping pills to even scrounge up a few hours of sleep. When he wakes, he has a missed call from Shinra, as well as a text message.

Izaya-kun's test matched yours exactly. I'm sorry.

Shizuo wants to throw his phone against the wall, but he doesn't. As angry as he is, he thinks he already knew. He knew as soon as Shinra mentioned it the first time, he just didn't want to accept it.

He lasts one more day before he's marching to Shinjuku. His head hurts, and he's feeling feverish, but he manages to make it through work. Tom asks where he's going in such a hurry.

“I'm going to kill Izaya,” Shizuo mutters, and he ignores the look Vorona and Tom give each other.

Shizuo bangs on Izaya's door until it opens, and an irritable woman looks back at him. His words die in his throat as she glares at him.

“He's in his room,” she tells him, opening the door. “It's right up the stairs.”

“Uh... Thanks?”

“Tell him I'm leaving for the day, please. I'm tired of dealing with him.” He watches as she gathers her things and leaves, and Shizuo waits only a few moments before he goes up the stairs.

Izaya is buried in blankets, looking as miserable as Shizuo feels. He glowers at Shizuo and rolls away, putting his back to Shizuo.

“Go away,” he moans.

“Izaya—“ Shizuo starts.

“No, I don't want to hear it. I don't want to talk about this.”

Shizuo growls. “Why are you being so shitty about this?! As if I'm happy about it! Aren't you supposed to be the smart one?”

“Shizu-chan, even if Shinra is right, what do you propose?” Izaya asks, and then he turns to look at Shizuo. “Do you know what soul bonds mean? You being here at all is going to make it worse.”

“What do you mean? I thought it would help?”

“It will, for a while. Every time we're in proximity, it's like a patch over the problem. It'll help a while, but the next time we feel this way, it'll be worse. We lose days every time.” Izaya rubs his hands over his face. “It's like it got even worse once Shinra opened his fat mouth. We were doing just fine before.”

“So what, then? You want to ignore it?” Shizuo asks.

“We can go on as normal, right? We can fight, and maybe if we draw out how often we see each other, we can lengthen the amount of time it takes before we have to see each other again. We'll...build a tolerance.”

“Fuck that! I feel like shit, and so do you! I'm not gonna just build a tolerance to feeling shitty! Who does that?!” Shizuo stomps towards the bed, and when Izaya meets his eyes, Shizuo freezes. Izaya looks scared. No. Izaya looks terrified.

“Don't touch me!” Izaya shouts, and Shizuo's entire body goes cold. “You idiot, just... Just leave, okay? You're making it worse.”

Shizuo runs his tongue along his teeth, counts to ten. He shakes his head.

“I'm not leaving. I'm not letting you ignore it.”

Izaya laughs, and it sounds completely hollow.

“Do you even understand what you're saying? It's not as if you want to be here. If you don't leave, and you insist on touching me, it's only going to get stronger.”

“Ignoring it isn't an option. It's gonna get worse even if we build a tolerance to it. So then what, it takes a month or so before we feel like this? We're gonna have to interact anyway.” Shizuo moves towards the bed, and Izaya watches him warily. “Might as well get it over with.”

Izaya rolls as far as he can when Shizuo sits on the edge of the bed. There's a large space between them, and Shizuo sighs before reaching out, his fingers skimming along Izaya's shoulder.

“I-za-ya,” Shizuo murmurs. “Come on. Meet me halfway here.”

“I hate you,” Izaya says, but he reaches his hand above the covers. Shizuo touches Izaya's hand timidly, and the instant their skin touches, their headaches vanish completely.

“Oh...” Shizuo breathes. He's close enough to watch Izaya's throat bob as he swallows, close enough to see Izaya's eyelashes. He traces his fingers along the soft skin of Izaya's knuckles, and they aren't holding hands, but Shizuo finds he wants to.

“You've only made it worse,” Izaya says. “The closer you get, the worse it'll be next time.”

“We aren't very close,” Shizuo says. “We don't have to get close. We can manage this much. Just...whenever it's bad, we can touch hands or something. It's not the end of the world.”

“You don't get it,” Izaya argues.

“So then tell me.”

Izaya just shakes his head, and then he pulls his hand away. Shizuo knows he isn't going to get anything else from Izaya, so he stands and leaves, the skin on his hand burning more and more with every step he takes away from Izaya.

***

It takes three days for Shizuo to understand what Izaya meant.

The next time the headache sets in, it's terrible. Shizuo's sunglasses do nothing to help his light sensitivity, and he winds up vomiting right in the middle of the sidewalk, Tom and Vorona on either side of him. They each take an arm and lead him to Shinra's, and the entire time, Shizuo is moaning in pain, trying to explain to them that it won't help.

They're at Shinra's for about fifteen minutes before Izaya stumbles in, looking haggard. Vorona and Tom stand instantly to defend Shizuo and tell Izaya Shizuo is in no shape to fight, but Shizuo shoves past them and hurries to Izaya, taking the informant into his arms like they're lovers.

“You fucking idiot,” Izaya murmurs, but he holds Shizuo just as tightly. “What have you done?”

“I'm sorry,” Shizuo says, and he presses his face into Izaya's hair. “I'm so fucking sorry.”

“Ah. Tom-san, Vorona-san, why don't you let me make you some tea?” Shinra asks, and the sound of footsteps leading from the door alerts Shizuo that he's alone with Izaya. He presses Izaya into the wall of the hallway, still hugging him tightly.

“I don't know what to do,” Shizuo admits. He's breathing Izaya in, and he wants to hate it, to feel as angry about Izaya's scent as usual, but he can't. He feels nothing but relief and comfort with every breath he takes. “Tell me what we can do.”

“There's nothing,” Izaya says, his voice muffled by Shizuo's shoulder. “You've doomed us both. It's only going to get worse.”

“Fuck,” Shizuo hisses. He nuzzles into Izaya's hair, can't think about why he's doing it. “Don't go away again. If it's worse every time, next time, I'm just gonna fucking pass out.”

“Shizu-chan...” Izaya's voice is small, unlike him. Shizuo offers a groan in response, letting Izaya know he understands completely. They don't let go of each other for quite a while.

“Man,” Tom says later when he and Vorona are walking Shizuo home. “Talk about a tough break. Being bonded to someone you hate? It's almost better not to be bound at all.”

“Statistically speaking, being bound at all—“ Vorona starts, and Shizuo grunts at her.

“I don't wanna hear the numbers. They only remind me how unlucky I am.” Shizuo is used to being an anomaly, but the universe really cursed him this time around. Vorona only shrugs, and Tom makes a face.

“Sorry, man. You wanna get drunk?” he asks.

“I'll just wake up hungover. Thanks, though. I'll keep it in mind,” Shizuo mumbles, and Tom and Vorona don't speak again.

The next day, it's all over the news that a couple in Japan are soul bound. Names aren't used, as neither Shizuo nor Izaya agreed to be named, but it seems like everyone is talking about it no matter where Shizuo goes. He wants to be pissed at Shinra for reporting it, but he knows why Shinra had to. If it's really so rare, it's kind of like some breakthrough case, and it gives other people hope. Shizuo is only glad his name wasn't used, and the only ones who know aren't blabbermouths, aside from Shinra, who fears Shizuo and Izaya both too much to say anything.

Part of Shizuo worries Izaya might try to work this to his own advantage, but Izaya seems every bit as displeased about it as Shizuo is, and Shizuo thinks Izaya won't want his name bound to someone's publicly either. They agree to meet the next day so they can fend off the sickness, and Shizuo goes to Izaya's place to make sure Izaya doesn't try to weasel his way out of it.

It isn't like the last time. Neither of them feel sick yet, so they're able to sit close to each other and touch hands while remaining far apart. Izaya scrolls his phone, not looking at Shizuo, and Shizuo tries to do the same, but it annoys him to be treated so impersonally.

“What are you doing anyway?” Shizuo snaps after a while, and Izaya turns to him with an eyebrow raised.

“Working,” Izaya says shortly.

“On what?”

“Sorry, I don't think that's your business?” Izaya says, smirking at Shizuo, and Shizuo tosses his hand away like it's diseased.

“God, I detest you. Whatever, I'm leaving.”

“Fine. Leave, then,” Izaya says, waving him away.

“I will!” Shizuo shouts back.

“I'm not stopping you! The door's right there,” Izaya says, and they glare at each other for a few moments before Shizuo stomps to the door and leaves, slamming it behind him.

They last one day.

Shizuo feels the headache settling in the second he arrives home from work. He vomits an hour later, and before he can even contact Izaya, Izaya is knocking on his door, a defeated look in his eyes.

Again, Shizuo takes Izaya into his arms. He doesn't think anything of it. The more he tries to rationalize it, the worse he feels about it, so he just listens to his body. He wants to be close to Izaya, wants to keep Izaya safe, wants to breathe Izaya in, so that's what he does. They stand at the door for a while, and then Shizuo carries Izaya to the couch, arranges them so Izaya is sitting on Shizuo's lap. If Izaya has any reservations, he doesn't voice them. He's silent as he hugs Shizuo around the neck, and Shizuo appreciates the lack of argument. They're stuck together in this, so he thinks the sooner they accept it, the better.

“Fuck,” Izaya says after a few minutes. He pulls away, and Shizuo makes a soft noise of protest before he pulls Izaya back. Their foreheads touch, and Shizuo closes his eyes, careful to swallow the moan that threatens to escape his lips. It feels so good to touch Izaya like this, to be this close. It's like a drug.

“I didn't mean to make it worse,” Shizuo says, his eyes still closed. He doesn't want to look at Izaya this close, worries he might try to kiss Izaya if he does. Izaya hums in response.

“You were right. It would've gotten worse no matter what we did,” Izaya says, and his hands settle on Shizuo's cheeks. Shizuo does moan then, can't help it. He feels Izaya go rigid against him.

“Did Shinra tell you the results of our test?” Shizuo asks. He has to say something to stop himself from opening his eyes. Izaya surely notices Shizuo is trying to distract him, but he goes along with it.

“He didn't tell you?” Izaya asks.

“Not about the test test, no. He told me our vitals were the same, but I didn't really understand the next part.”

“Mm. You described an odd dream I've been having. And you said you were craving ootoro despite not liking it much.”

“So?” Shizuo asks.

“That's my favorite food. As for the dream, it was about destroying some woman's shop. I had no idea who she was, but it was recurring.”

Shizuo inhales sharply, and then he laughs. He can't help it. His life is so incredibly odd.

“You really are my soulmate, aren't you? Fuck. This is insane. So we can share thoughts?”

“I think so. If we worked at it.” Izaya's nose presses against Shizuo's, and Shizuo opens his eyes, shivers at way Izaya is looking at him. “It's not uncommon for soul bonded pairs to be linked mentally, though I doubt either of us wants that.”

“Isn't it kind of inevitable at this point?” Shizuo asks, and Izaya laughs softly.

“Maybe. It's so rare that I don't know for sure.”

Eventually, Izaya untangles himself from Shizuo, and though Shizuo wants to yank Izaya back into his arms, he refrains. Izaya waves before ducking out of the apartment, and Shizuo just knows he isn't going to sleep well that night, whether their bond is satisfied or not.

He dreams of a big house, empty aside from himself and two babies. He's left to care for them, and he isn't good at it, but he has to be. He's all they have. He's cooking and then the smoke alarm goes off, and it wakes him up. He knows miles away, Izaya must be up, too.

Shizuo fights it as long as he can. He can feel Izaya fighting it, too. They last an entire two days before they wind up back together. Shizuo finds Izaya in a cafe, where he knows Izaya will be despite the fact they aren't talking. He takes one look at Izaya hunched in a chair, and then they're embracing, ignoring the looks of the other patrons.

“This place has excellent hot chocolate. Do you want some?” Izaya asks. Shizuo is entirely helpless to him, is resisting the urge to kiss Izaya silly.

“Yes. Fuck, whatever you want,” Shizuo murmurs, and Izaya trembles. He calls their order to the girl at the counter, and Shizuo takes Izaya's face in his hands, brushes his lips over Izaya's.

“Shizu...” Izaya breathes, and then their mouths are meeting. Shizuo groans against Izaya's lips, kisses him softly at first, and then brushes his tongue across Izaya's lips. Izaya resists, and Shizuo growls lowly in warning, and then their tongues are meeting, and Shizuo loses his mind at the taste of his mate. Izaya melts against him, and Shizuo's hands move under Izaya's shirt, span the soft skin of Izaya's back, and it takes the sound of the girl announcing the hot chocolate is ready for them to break apart. Shizuo tries to go retrieve it, but Izaya whines and pulls him closer, silently begging Shizuo not to let go of him. Shizuo carries Izaya to the counter, and then back to the table. He holds Izaya in his lap and lets the drink go cold in favor of tasting Izaya to his heart's content.

“Come over,” Shizuo pleads later. He's pressing Izaya to the wall outside. He knows they shouldn't make a spectacle of themselves like this, but he can't resist the call of Izaya's lips, and he knows Izaya feels the same.

“Shizu-chan... It's not a good idea,” Izaya says, trying to turn away from Shizuo's mouth. Shizuo yanks him back, licks inside Izaya's mouth with a low groan.

“I can't be without you anymore. I don't care what that makes us,” Shizuo says when they break apart again. “We can just sleep. I don't need anything but for you to be beside me.”

“Okay,” Izaya agrees at last, and he mewls enticingly when Shizuo licks at his neck. Shizuo doesn't know how he lived so long without the taste of Izaya on his tongue.

“Thank you,” Shizuo says, feeling pathetic. If Izaya tries to leave, he thinks he might go insane. He carries Izaya back to his apartment building, and he holds Izaya's hand while Izaya orders them takeout on his phone.

They wind up sharing lo-mein from the Chinese place nearby, Izaya feeding Shizuo a bite before taking his own. They pick at everything else, their eyes on each other as they try to eat, but eating isn't what their bodies are screaming for. Izaya just barely manages to set the takeout containers on the floor before Shizuo is pressing Izaya's body into the couch cushions, kissing him hungrily, desperately. Izaya wraps around Shizuo, kisses Shizuo back just as ravenously. Their bond sings between them, and when Shizuo grinds down against Izaya, Izaya gasps and rolls his hips up to meet him.

“Izaya... Izaya, fuck...” Shizuo manages, panting against Izaya's neck as they move together.

“Shizu-chan... We...nnn... We should stop...” Izaya breathes, and Shizuo whines in response.

“Do you want to...?”

“No,” Izaya says, and he looks up at Shizuo, his pupils blown wide. “What do you want?”

“I want you,” Shizuo says, and the second the words leave him, he feels the truth in them. Suddenly, the fact they've waited this long is ridiculous. They're mated. Mates can't be apart like this.

“Are you sure?” Izaya asks, and he runs his hands through Shizuo's hair. “If we do this, there's no going back. We'll never get away from each other.”

“So? I don't want to be away from you.” Shizuo turns his head, catches Izaya's wrist, and pulls Izaya's hand to himself, kissing the soft skin of Izaya's palm. “It's already too late for that, isn't it?”

Izaya breathes deeply, and then he shakes his head.

“It's not you talking. It's the bond. You need to think about this and what it means.”

“How am I supposed to think about it?” Shizuo asks. “If you go away again, I'm gonna lose my fucking mind. And when you're next to me, you're all I want.” Shizuo looks into Izaya's eyes. “What's left? What do I have to do to convince you that I need you?”

“I don't know,” Izaya says. He looks upset, and Shizuo hates it, wants to fight whatever is hurting Izaya like this, though he gets the feeling it's Izaya himself. “No one's ever... It doesn't make sense...”

“Izaya,” Shizuo says, and he hears the desire in his own voice.

“I'm supposed to go to America in a few days,” Izaya blurts suddenly, and Shizuo freezes above him. “I have a few clients there... I'm supposed to be gone for a month.”

“A month?” Shizuo asks, his mouth dry. “You can't. Izaya—we won't last a month.”

“I don't want this!” Izaya sits up, and Shizuo willingly backs away from him. “I don't want to be tied to you! You don't even fucking want me! You need me, and I don't...” Izaya pauses before looking down at the couch cushions. “It'd be different if it was anyone else, but you hate me. You've always hated me. We're only together because it stops you from feeling like shit.”

“That's the only reason you're here, too,” Shizuo says, and he can feel the despair coming from Izaya. It doesn't make any fucking sense. Neither of them want this... Izaya hates Shizuo just as much as Shizuo's always hated Izaya, right?

Izaya stands and hurries out the door. Shizuo feels the pull of their bond, but he doesn't chase after Izaya. He doesn't know what the fuck he's supposed to say.

***

Two days later, Shizuo is completely bed-bound.

Shinra comes by to give him painkillers and a lecture, but Shizuo shoves Shinra out the door before the doctor can say something too stupid. Celty stays behind, and Shizuo doesn't mind talking to her about it. She's his best friend, and she has his best interests at heart.

“So he's just going to go across the ocean for a month?” Celty asks. She fidgets. “I don't know much about soul bonds, but I don't think the two of you would survive that.”

“Izaya doesn't seem to care,” Shizuo mutters. He has his sunglasses on inside again. He knows Celty won't find it rude.

“Izaya knows he can't do it. No one could be away from their soulmate for that long.” Her shoulders sink with a sigh. “I love Shinra, but even we aren't soulmates. Shinra has a human lifespan, and... He'll die never finding his soulmate.”

“Does he have a mark?” Shizuo asks. He's often wondered this. It wouldn't make sense for Shinra, a human, to be bound to Celty.

“Yes. It's faded, grayed out on top. It means the person bound to him is already dead. He says he doesn't care, that he wouldn't love them anyway, because likely they'd have a head.” Celty doesn't have an expression to read, but Shizuo can read it all the same. She's looking at him imploringly, hopefully. She wants him to understand her meaning.

“What would you do, if you were me?” Shizuo asks. Celty has been around for a long time. More than that, he trusts her. She wouldn't lie to him.

“For starters, I wouldn't let him leave. It's basically a death wish for you both.” She pauses, her shadows swirling thoughtfully from her neck. “I don't know Izaya very well, but Shinra does. Shinra says Izaya is afraid of rejection, and that he's scared to be himself around anyone. I think Izaya just wants to know that you want him for him, and not because some otherworldly force is telling you to.”

“How am I supposed to convince him of that if I don't even know the answer for sure?” Shizuo asks, and he can tell she's sighing.

“How can you expect him to stay if he thinks you're doing it in spite of your hatred of him?”

“Fuck,” Shizuo murmurs, knowing she's right. “This is why I never talk to you about stuff like this. You're too smart.”

She whacks him on the shoulder, and he laughs, knowing she's laughing with him even if he can't hear it. When she leaves, he thinks about what she said, what Shinra said, and what Izaya said. He decides to go to Izaya's the next day. He'll make Izaya hear him.

In the morning, Shizuo wakes up to his alarm blaring, and he can barely move. Making it to Izaya's will be impossible, and he knows if he calls Izaya, Izaya won't answer. He considers calling Shinra and having Shinra intervene on his behalf, but there's no need. Shortly after noon, Shizuo hears clicking in the lock, and then the door is opening. Izaya stumbles inside, and Shizuo thinks that maybe Izaya was always the stronger of the two of them, because Izaya is still standing.

“I'm leaving later today,” Izaya says. He leans against the wall, his complexion slightly green.

“So why are you here?” Shizuo asks. “Even if you come over here with me, the effects won't last a month. You'll be overseas, and we'll both be too sick to function.”

“I'm here to tell you goodbye,” Izaya says, and he's inching closer, still tilting into the wall as he goes. “Maybe I'm here to take the edge off the pain until I'm too far for that to be an option anymore.”

“Izaya,” Shizuo says. He balances himself on his elbows as he lifts to look at Izaya. “Don't go.”

“Why not?” Izaya asks, halting in his tracks. “Why wouldn't I?”

“Because we need each other, because we're bound. Because every second you aren't around, I sense what you're thinking, have the same dreams as you, crave the same foods as you. Fuck, Izaya, I don't know. I love you, okay? Isn't that reason enough for you to stay?” Shizuo asks. He rolls off the couch, managing to stand on his knees.

“I've loved you since high school,” Izaya says, and Shizuo doesn't have to look for the truth in Izaya's words. He can tell they're honest. “I loved you before I knew of any bond. But you hated me. You hated me when we met, before I even did anything.”

“I was a pissed off teenager, and we both fought so much it never occurred to me I'd be bound to you. For fuck's sake, Izaya, have you ever considered I hated you because you were too fucking pretty to look at?” Shizuo asks, and Izaya's eyes widen.

“Is that a reason to hate someone?” Izaya asks, and Shizuo laughs bitterly.

“Yes. I hated myself and my strength, and you showed up next to Shinra, looking perfect. I didn't think I'd ever even deserve to be near you. And then you slashed me across the chest—“

“After you charged at me,” Izaya interjects.

“Yes. After that. I'm not denying my part in our feud, okay? I'm not denying any of it. I love you. I don't care what's making me love you, and I don't care if I need you, because I want you, too. I've wanted you longer than I've needed you. I've wanted you since we met.” Shizuo looks up, and Izaya is in front of him now, still standing. Shizuo wraps his arms around Izaya's waist and buries his face into Izaya's stomach.

“Shizu-chan,” Izaya says. His hands settle in Shizuo's hair.

“Izaya, please,” Shizuo breathes, and Izaya drops to his knees, his arms flying around Shizuo's neck before their lips meet. Shizuo pulls Izaya to him, kissing him as if his life depends on it, and with their bond satisfied, Shizuo is able to stand and pull Izaya along with him to the bed.

“I have lube in my pocket,” Izaya says, his eyes wide as he looks at Shizuo. “I just thought... I thought if it worked out, you wouldn't be prepared, so...”

“I don't need a condom, do I?” Shizuo asks, though he knows the answer already. Izaya is pressed against him from head to toe, and Shizuo can feel in their bond that Izaya has never been touched by anyone else.

“No,” Izaya says. “I... I've never wanted anyone but you.”

“Neither have I.”

It's not perfect. It's fast, clumsy. Izaya prepares himself because Shizuo is too afraid of hurting him, and once Shizuo is pushing himself into Izaya, neither of them lasts long enough for it to be thoroughly enjoyable. Shizuo thrusts once, twice, and comes inside Izaya with a whine. His hand circles Izaya's dick and barely pumps Izaya at all before Izaya joins him.

It's not great sex, but they both know as soon as it's over that they'll never be able to be apart again. Shizuo leans down and kisses Izaya's cheeks, his eyelids. He tastes tears on Izaya's face and feels in Izaya's feedback that Izaya is happy, comforted. Neither of them has to say anything at all.

They have each other a few more times that night, each time getting better. Izaya eventually cancels his flight, saying he knew all along that Shizuo wouldn't let him go. They fall asleep joined together, and they share the same dream, but in the morning, neither of them remembers it.

Shizuo wakes early and nuzzles into Izaya, who moans quietly before tugging Shizuo closer.

“Don't you have to work today?” Izaya asks, and Shizuo kisses him gently.

“I have a few sick days left.”

“Mmm,” Izaya hums, one of his hands moving over Shizuo's chest. He giggles suddenly and moves closer.

“What?” Shizuo asks sleepily.

“I'm tracing my name,” Izaya says, moving his fingers over where he carved his name in Shizuo before.

“Oh, fuck you,” Shizuo grumbles, but he doesn't really care much. He's far too pleased with their bond resonating between them, and he can feel Izaya is, too.

“You were always mine,” Izaya murmurs, and he kisses his name across Shizuo's chest, marks that won't scar, but are settled over a scar Izaya carved in the past, their first meeting, in fact.

“I was,” Shizuo says, and though he didn't always know it, he knows now that it's true all the same.

[hysterialevi]

His Name Was Isaac - Final Chapter

Fanfic summary: During a mission to avenge his mother’s death, Isaac hunts down the men responsible for her murder and kills them off one-by-one, only to discover that his last target is taking refuge among the Van der Linde gang. In an attempt to kill them, Isaac attacks the gang and unknowingly becomes enemies with his own father, who is in the process of fighting his own battle for redemption.

Point of view: third-person

Author’s note: Holy hell I can’t believe it’s already over. Even though this fanfic wasn’t as long as some of my other ones, I still really enjoyed writing it for you guys, and I wanted to say thanks to those of you who stuck around this long. I hope you enjoy this last chapter, and I hope you’ll be there for other stories too :)

Previous chapter

This story is also on AO3

THE NEXT MORNING

MOUNT HAGEN

Emptiness. Silence. Isolation.

These were the new foundations of the world.

As the lonely breeze howled loudly in the wind, and the pale sun climbed higher in the never-ending sky, Isaac remained seated in the sea of snow, devoid of any hope that once lived inside him.

He was alone. 

Just like before.

After fifteen years of battling with his grief and growing up with an insatiable sense of hatred, history had repeated itself all over again. 

Only this time... Isaac didn’t care.

He couldn’t find a reason to.

Without Arthur at his side, or Eliza to help guide him, the boy felt completely lost. He felt like the world was swallowing him whole, and the longer he stared aimlessly at the distant horizon, the more he wondered if there was any point in reaching the border.

How did he know that wouldn’t experience the same kind of pain in Canada? What guarantee did he have that the people he met in the future wouldn’t simply disappear like everyone else had?

The last thing Isaac wanted to do was abandon his father’s final wish... but he didn’t know if he had the strength to continue anymore.

He had already fought for so long, and yet, the end of the road didn’t appear to be any closer.

Forcing himself up from the cold ground, Isaac steadily rose to his feet and patted some snow off his coat before continuing to trudge across the unforgiving terrain, feeling more and more exhausted with every step.

He hadn’t slept ever since Arthur died, and with the amount of people hunting him down in these mountains, Isaac didn’t dare lower his gun for a moment.

Agent Fordham may have been kind enough to let him go, but even then, Isaac knew he was far from safe. He still had Dutch and Micah to worry about, and top of that, there was also the fact that Agent Ross had probably figured out by now that Isaac was still alive.

He was going to have to reach the border as soon as possible, and without any mistakes.

Slowly making his way up a steep hill, Isaac clutched his rifle close to his chest and examined the area ahead of him, keeping an eye out for any possible threats.

There was a small group of shacks sitting atop the hill -- all of which seemed abandoned -- but the young man noticed a fresh trail of footprints leading up to one of them. It looked like someone had passed through here recently, and judging by the dying campfire that was gradually withering away outside, Isaac assumed they were still nearby.

He cocked his firearm, prepared to shoot anything that moved.

Part of Isaac simply wanted to leave the cabins alone and carry on, but with the level of fatigue that was currently overtaking his body, the boy knew he needed to rest lest he collapse somewhere in the wilderness.

Gently pushing the cabin’s door open, Isaac carefully stepped inside and observed his surroundings, trying to stay as quiet as possible.

So far, the only thing to greet the young man was a lifeless room filled with nothing but a dead fireplace, and a collection of cracked windows. There were visible specks of dust floating in the sunbeams that seeped through the glass, and on the wall opposite to him, Isaac spotted another door.

It didn’t seem like anyone was home at the moment, so he continued to settle in.

Just before Isaac could take another step however, a bullet came flying through one of the windows and zipped mere centimeters past his ear, causing him to jump backwards.

He immediately slammed the front door shut and took cover, hiding behind a nearby wall.

Isaac didn’t even have a chance to see his attacker’s face before they attempted to shoot him, but just based on the muffled voice he heard talking to him afterwards, the young man knew exactly who it was.

“Well, would you look at that...” his assailant said from outside. “Here I am searchin’ high and low through these goddamn mountains -- freezin’ my ass off just to find you -- and you show up right on my doorstep. Now ain’t that a surprise?”

Isaac peeked through the window’s dusty glass, keeping an eye on the other man as he approached the cabin.

“Fuck off, Micah.” He replied. “I ain’t doin’ this with you. Not now.”

Micah laughed at that. “Why not? Lost your nerve now that daddy ain’t here to protect you? I thought you was a tough boy.” He glanced around for a bit, shrugging in curiosity. “Speakin’ of which, where is the old man? I figured he’d be wanderin’ around here with you. Hard for me to imagine the two of you splittin’ up. Somethin’ happen to him...?”

Isaac clenched his jaw in anger. “...You know damn well what happened. You caused it. Agent Ross found us ‘cause of you.”

The outlaw sighed melodramatically. “Ah, so them government boys got him in the end. Tragic. Arthur always struck me as the type who woulda fancied himself dyin’ in a more heroic fashion. Like in the fairytales. Guess he weren’t so big and bad, after all.”

Isaac subtly reached for his knife, preparing to attack Micah once he got near the door.

“He was still strong enough to beat you.”

Micah grinned in response. “Hmm, well... I just hope the same can be said for you. You’re a strong kid, Isaac. But you’re in for a rude awakenin’ once Dutch gets here. He won’t let you leave these mountains alive...” The man took out his weapon, preparing to strike. “And neither will I.”

Leaping out from cover, Isaac bolted to the front door and slammed it open right before Micah could barge in, bashing the other man in the face as he tumbled to the ground.

Meanwhile, Isaac took advantage of the opening and yanked his knife out, slicing it downwards as he tried to aim for the man’s throat. Just before he could press the knife into his skin however, Micah reached up and grabbed Isaac’s wrists in resistance, pushing back as the two of them wrestled for power.

“Fiery little shit, ain’t you?” Micah growled through bloodied teeth. “You can fight me all you want, boy... but that won’t bring your daddy back. He’s long gone, I’m afraid...!”

Isaac felt a familiar sense of hatred growing inside him again, motivating him to push down even harder.

“You shut your goddamn mouth, Micah!”

The older man chuckled deviously. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I strike a nerve? Heh. You’s your daddy’s son, alright. All emotion and no brains. It’s no wonder he’s dead now, just like that whore of a mother you had.”

Isaac let out a strained groan, fervently trying to force the blade into Micah’s neck as his arms began to quiver.

“You ain’t nothin’ but a worthless snake, Micah...! And I’m gonna make sure you die like one.”

Micah’s grin grew even wider at that. “Ah, now that’s the Isaac I know. You strut around pretendin’ to be a better man than the rest of us, but really, you’re just another killer deep down, ain’t you, princess? Same as Shay. Well, c’mon then. Show me what you got...!”

Mustering all the strength in his body, Micah easily shoved Isaac’s lean frame off of him and kicked the boy in the gut, causing him to reel back. In the meantime, Micah got up from the ground and took his own hunting knife out, slashing the weapon wildly at Isaac.

“There’s winners, and losers!” He shouted, stepping forward as the boy dodged his attacks. “Nothin’ else besides.”

Ducking under one of Micah’s swings, Isaac barely missed the edge of his blade and prepared to strike him with a counterattack, only to receive a gash to the cheek when the other man followed up with a second slice.

Stumbling backwards, Isaac watched as a few droplets of blood trickled from his face and onto the white snow beneath him, spreading in a manner similar to an ink blot.

He was already feeling worn out from trying to keep up with Micah’s vicious speed, but for the sake of making sure his father wouldn’t die in vain, Isaac refused to give up. 

He brought his attention back to the outlaw, gripping the hilt of his knife even tighter than before.

“You’re wrong about my father. He did die as a hero. He died protectin’ me...” Isaac held the blade in front of him, making sure that Micah wouldn’t come close. “...But you? You’re gonna die as a rat. A traitor. Your corpse’ll become nothin’ but food for the vultures, and ain’t no one gonna give a shit about you.”

Micah smirked at the statement. “Oh, we’re all gonna die someday, cowboy. But at least my pockets will be heavier when that time comes.”

Leaping at each other, the two of them engaged in one last fight to the death as the snow danced wildly around them, coating everything behind a layer of ice. The sun was barely breaking through the clouds now, and as more time went on, Isaac could feel the weather hindering his movements more and more.

His limbs were becoming stiff in the cold, and his skin had nearly gone numb from the freezing wind that chewed through it. 

But despite all the obstacles he faced, Isaac remained adamant in his mission to kill Micah and persisted with the battle, determined to put him in the ground.

Throwing a punch at the older man, Isaac buried his knuckles in Micah’s jaw and stunned him for a moment, allowing him to turn the tide of the fight. He tackled the outlaw to the snow and pinned him down with his own weight, beating the man the same way Arthur once did.

Instead of trying to block Isaac’s attacks however, Micah resorted to a quicker solution and simply jabbed his knife into the boy’s leg, causing him to shout in agony as blood began to seep through his clothes.

Isaac frantically tried to think through the pain, but was swiftly interrupted when Micah hurled him off to the side and climbed on top of him, switching their positions.

He hurriedly yanked the blade out of Isaac’s leg and diverted it to his throat, but was stopped halfway when the boy pushed back in a desperate attempt to keep the knife from reaching his neck.

“You’re pathetic, Morgan...!” Micah snarled. “Sure, you’re real tough when it comes to killin’ fools, but against anyone else, you’re just a scared little boy tryin’ to survive in a man’s world.”

Isaac groaned in effort, grinding his teeth together as he clutched Micah’s wrists with an iron grip.

“You don’t know... the first thing about me...! I don’t wanna be a killer... but for you -- I’ll make an exception...!”

Using every bit of strength that he had left in him, Isaac forcibly pushed Micah further away from him and stretched his arms out, putting some distance between his neck and the blade.

He wanted to make sure he had enough space to roll out from underneath him before making his next move, but with a new wound now throbbing in his leg, Isaac couldn’t deny that he was feeling weaker and weaker by the minute.

Giving Micah another firm shove, the boy finally managed to get him at a reasonable distance and slid free from his grasp, moving out of the way just as the man’s knife impaled the ground.

Isaac scrambled across the snow and reached for his gun, whipping it straight out of the holster as the other man came charging at him.

He only had once chance to kill Micah before he’d be on top of him again, but in spite of the risks, Isaac decided it’d best to rely on his gun rather than his strength. He barely had any energy left in him, after all, and based how much blood he was losing, the boy wasn’t sure if he could keep this up for much longer.

He aimed the barrel directly at Micah’s head, getting ready to shoot the man.

Bang.

A single gunshot thundered throughout the entire region.

Micah’s body came to a halt, and his eyes widened in pure shock.

There was a deathly gap in the fast rhythm of his breath, and within a few moments, the man’s face had been drained of all life. 

What confused Isaac however, was that he had yet to pull the trigger.

Collapsing to the ground, Micah toppled over into the snow and landed on his side, revealing a third person standing behind him.

He remained paralyzed on the ground and simply lay there in bewilderment, glancing upwards at the man who just put a bullet in his back.

“...Dutch...” Micah wheezed, glaring fearfully at him. “You... shot me...”

The other man stepped next to his fallen comrade, solemnly looking down at him as a trail of smoke rose from his revolver.

“...Not soon enough, I’m afraid.”

Watching as Micah drew his final breath, Dutch stood above him in silence and simply towered over the man, finally witnessing the revenge he had thirsted for for so long.

He had known for a while now that there was a traitor within the gang, but he never had his suspicions confirmed until he read Bill’s goodbye letter.

The drunken fool had been kind enough to leave a note before he took off, and Dutch knew that if he wanted to catch Micah by surprise, he’d have to keep the warning a secret.

So, time after time, he pretended to be oblivious to the snake’s deeds and blindly went along with his plans, only to find him wrestling with the son of the very man he wished he had never pushed away to begin with.

It was a step closer to finding his redemption, he thought... and yet, Dutch felt as if he had taken two steps back. 

That was the price of vengeance he supposed. But he no longer cared.

Pushing his thoughts aside for the moment, Dutch suddenly remembered that he still had Isaac to deal with and brought his attention back to the boy, aiming the gun at him.

It looked like Micah had already injured him quite a bit during their fight, but even then, Dutch knew better than to let his guard down.

He carefully approached the young man, making sure to keep him in place.

“...Arthur’s not with you?” He noted. 

Isaac remained seated in the snow, shaking his head.

“...No.” He answered quietly. “He’s... he’s dead.”

Dutch’s expression sank with worry.

“...Dead?” He asked, mortified. “How? What happened?”

The young man slowly rose to his feet, careful not to alert Dutch.

“The Pinkertons cornered us just outside of Lake Isabella. Ross ended up shootin’ him. I...” Isaac’s tone softened with regret, “...I couldn’t save him.”

Dutch steadily lowered his gun in disbelief and gazed aimlessly at the view beyond the horizon, furrowing his brow in anguish.

He couldn’t believe it.

Just when he started to right the wrongs of his past, and regain some of the integrity he passed onto others... the most important person in his life had been taken away.

He treated Arthur like a complete stranger the last time he saw him, and to make matters worse, he never even had the chance to say goodbye.

All Dutch had left of the man was a broken collection of memories, and an abandoned journal that was full of unfinished thoughts.

He brought his gaze back to Isaac, observing the boy’s striking resemblance to his father.

Perhaps... there was more of Arthur in him than Dutch originally thought. Maybe it was time to put his feelings about the young man in the past, and move on with his life.

He had nothing left to fight for, after all. His mission for vengeance was completed the minute Micah’s heart came to a stop, and with Arthur dead... there was no need to worry about confronting the man any longer.

The only thing Dutch could do for his late son now was take care of the one person who still survived him, and help him flourish in a world that was so willing to kill him.

He reached down and retrieved Arthur’s fallen hat from the ground, quietly traipsing over to the boy as he patted some snow off its rim.

“Y’know what, Isaac,” Dutch said with a cough, “...I wish I could’ve realized this sooner, but...” he handed the hat to Isaac, “...you’re the last person I want dead.”

The young man took the hat into his grasp, admittedly at a loss for words.

“I-- thank you, Dutch. I won’t lie. I didn’t expect this from you.”

The older man nodded in agreement. “Neither did I.”

Isaac placed the hat back on his head, suddenly recalling Arthur’s last request.

“Hey,” he said, holding Dutch back for a moment, “before you go... my father wanted me to tell you somethin’ in case I ever saw you again. He said he never hated you, despite everything that happened. And he’s sorry he wasn’t there when you needed him.”

“He... said that?” The man sighed in heartache. “Oh, Arthur...”

Evidently grief-stricken by the message, Dutch turned away from Isaac and bit his bottom lip, attempting to hide the tears that threatened to spill. One of his biggest fears ever since learning of Micah’s betrayal was that he’d never be able to gain Arthur’s forgiveness, and yet... it was clear that he had misjudged the man once again.

Dutch let out a shaky breath, still gazing at the ground.

“Thank you... for lettin’ me know, son. I... I appreciate it.”

Isaac shared Dutch’s mournful mood. “I just wish my father could’ve been here to tell him yourself.”

Dutch nodded at that. “Me too, Isaac. Me too.”

The older man turned around and began making his way off the mountain, eager to put some distance between him and Mount Hagen.

“...I have to go now, son. You’ve... certainly given me much to think about, and I won’t forget it. But I need to handle it on my own.”

The boy stayed back, not wanting to disturb Dutch any further. 

“I understand.”

“Take care of yourself. This world weren’t built for the likes of us, but you still have a chance. As for me... well, my time has passed. And I’m afraid that’s just the way it is.”

Venturing deeper into the cold, barren landscape, Dutch took his leave from the grisly scene and began descending Mount Hagen’s steep terrain, disappearing further and further into the snow.

He wasn’t sure if he’d ever recover from the events that transpired here -- what with news of Arthur’s death -- but he knew it was time to move on.

This chapter of madness and insanity had finally been closed now that Micah was gone, and even though Dutch had no certainty of what the future held, he had no intentions of lingering in the past either.

It had caused him enough pain. And now, he was ready to heal.

Trudging down the mountain, Dutch vanished in the distance like a phantom in the wind as the snowstorm began to pick up, completely obscuring his path. He didn’t know where he was going, or where this road would lead him, but he continued with his journey regardless.

Meanwhile, Isaac stayed behind and watched as the other man took his leave, suddenly feeling a strange sense of contentment within him.

He still had a long way to go in terms of recovery, but the boy felt like he was finally ready to accept reality.

Arthur was dead. 

Eliza was dead. 

And there was no way he could bring them back.

The world had taken them prematurely from Isaac’s life... and yet, he was fully aware that it’d be impossible to rectify that.

There wasn’t a single man he could kill, or a god he could pray to that would restore everything he’d lost.

He no longer had anything left to lose... and that was why he could finally start over.

Slipping his gun back into its holster, Isaac took one last glance at Micah’s corpse before removing himself from Mount Hagen’s vicinity, allowing the other man to freeze in the snow.

Even though part of him was disappointed that he didn’t get the chance to kill Micah, the young man couldn’t deny that he was also relieved. He had seen for himself just how much hatred could consume a man, and considering everything that happened these past couple of weeks, Isaac didn’t know if he’d be willing to walk down the path of vengeance again.

It nearly destroyed him, not too long ago. He killed Shay’s entire gang without a single hint of hesitation or a second thought, and at one point, he might’ve even enjoyed it.

But now... Isaac could see that Arthur was right.

As tempting as revenge could be, it wasn’t worth the sacrifice. 

His humanity, his compassion, his care for others -- those were the things that kept him going. And those were the things he wanted to keep alive.

He had spent long enough wandering through this world as a killer, and now, he was ready to embrace forgiveness.

It was a difficult thing to accept, but for the sake of moving on with his life, and carrying out Arthur’s final wish, Isaac knew he had to put down the gun.

It was the only way he could allow himself to recover now, and the only thing that would permit him to seek redemption.

He had finally reached the end of the road, and freedom was waiting for him on the other side.

~~~~~~~~~~

ONE WEEK LATER

EVENING

ELIZA’S CABIN

Standing quietly in front of the lifeless house, Isaac found himself overwhelmed by the empty silence as he clutched a bundle of flowers in his grasp, wondering if he even had the strength to see his parents’ graves again.

After he left Mount Hagen, the boy traveled back to Colter against his better judgement and brought Arthur’s body here, burying him alongside Eliza.

It was probably foolish of him to remain in the United States for so long with all the people searching for him, but in spite of the danger, Isaac didn’t have the heart to leave them behind.

They were both gone from this world -- that was true -- but that didn’t mean he couldn’t ensure they had the opportunity to rest in peace.

Giving Aldo a quick pat on the neck, Isaac signaled the horse to stay behind as he approached the abandoned cabin, fiddling with his hands in nervousness.

It had been ages since he last saw this house, and just by gazing at its boarded-up windows, he could already feel an influx of memories flooding his head.

From the days he’d spend playing in the fields with Arthur, to the times he spent listening to Eliza’s singing... there wasn’t a single moment that he couldn’t remember.

Everything about this place screamed nostalgia to him, and part of Isaac wished he could stay forever.

Walking up to Arthur’s and Eliza’s graves, Isaac took a deep breath before kneeling down in front of them, trying to keep his composure.

He had given his father the same kind of cross that stood above his mother, and on the wooden planks read a small passage: 

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.”

It probably wasn’t the kind of message Arthur expected to be marked with when he was gone from this world, but Isaac felt it fit the man more than he may have realized. 

He knew his father always saw himself as somebody who only ever did wrong, but in Isaac’s eyes, the man was a hero. He abandoned his past as an outlaw, and sacrificed everything he knew to keep his son safe. His last moments were spent ensuring that Isaac had a chance to survive, and the boy wasn’t about to forget that.

Placing the flowers next to the crosses, Isaac gazed longingly at the names that had been carved into their surface, wishing they could be there with him.

He didn’t know exactly what to say, or if anything needed to be said at all, but simply by looking at their graves, he already felt as if his parents were standing in front of him again.

It was as if their ghosts still remained in this place, and the longer Isaac stared at the cabin standing behind them, the more he felt compelled to say something in return.

“Yeah, I know...” Isaac said affectionately, “I’m still here, Dad. I promise I’ll be on my way to Canada soon, but... I wanted to say goodbye first. I never had the chance to thank you properly for everything you did, and well... I just hope you know that I always cared for you.”

He turned to Eliza’s grave. “And Ma... I’m sorry for everything that happened. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you from Shay and his men, and I’m sorry that I became blinded by my hatred for so long. I know neither of you would’ve wanted me to go down that path, and I wish I could’ve realized that sooner.”

He paused for a moment, nodding in reassurance. “But I’ll do my best to be a better man from now on. I’m gonna try to help people instead of hurtin’ them, and I won’t pick up my gun again unless I have to. It’ll feel strange takin’ on such a new life, but... it’s one I’m ready to adapt.”

Isaac stood up from the ground, glancing over his shoulder at Aldo.

“...I’ve gotta go now. You know how persistent them Pinkertons can be, and I think I’ve already spent enough time lingering around here. But I’ll come visit you as much as I can. I promise.”

Walking away from the graves, Isaac slowly returned to his horse as the sun finally began to set beneath the tree line, painting the sky a striking orange color. For as far as the eye could see, nothing but vast meadows stretched out for miles into the distance, and anything that stood on the horizon was blackened into a stark silhouette.

It was like a small paradise out here, Isaac thought. The nature in this area had been left untouched by civilization’s progress, and due to its secluded location, no other souls roamed around here except for his own two parents.

It was the one place Isaac could find peace... and he had to leave it behind for now.

Climbing back onto Aldo’s addle, the young man readied himself for the journey ahead and spared a few moments to take one final look at the cabin, admittedly reluctant to separate himself from it.

It felt nice to be somewhere familiar again, but Isaac knew he couldn’t stay here forever. There was an entirely new life waiting for him beyond the border, and this was his last chance to seize it.

So, with one last goodbye, Isaac bid farewell to the place he once called home and lightly kicked his spurs into Aldo’s sides, urging the horse to begin trotting away from the scene.

He didn’t know when he’d return to the cabin again, but one thing was for sure. He had finally found the closure he needed.

Shay, Arthur, Eliza, Dutch, Micah... they were all ghosts in the wind now. There was nothing left to hold Isaac back from his future, and now, he could focus on becoming a new man.

It was the reward he received for having fought for so long. The one thing that everyone else in his life constantly died for.

The only treasure that no amount of money could buy.

Redemption.

~~~~~~~~~~

FOUR YEARS LATER

1911

SOMEWHERE IN NEW AUSTIN

Hopping off his mount, John Marston approached the makeshift clinic standing in front of him as he carefully searched the area, admittedly skeptical of how much information he would receive from this visit.

According to the locals, there was a rather eccentric doctor who had been seen traveling around these parts... but he wasn’t anything like the ones that worked in the hospitals.

For starters, he was an outlaw. He hadn’t committed any crimes in recent years except for evading the Pinkertons’ grasp, but the idea of a criminal doctor was still strange to John. And on top of that, the man apparently had some crucial information regarding the locations of Bill Williamson and Dutch van der Linde.

He didn’t know why the hell Dutch or Bill would’ve been in contact with a man such as this one, but John supposed he was about to find out.

Making his way up the clinic’s wooden stairs, John opened the front door and prepared to let himself in, only to be interrupted when he found the barrel of a shotgun staring back at him.

He couldn’t quite see the face of the person holding it just yet due to the darkness inside, but John assumed it was the doctor he had heard so much about.

He raised his hands in the air, backing away slowly.

“Whoa, now...” Marston said, attempting to defuse the situation, “easy, mister. I mean you no harm.”

The doctor chuckled at that. “Them’s some funny words comin’ from a man with as many guns as you. You think I haven’t heard that one before? Who are you? You with the law?”

John hesitated to answer. “Well, I am workin’ with the government, but I ain’t here to take nobody in. I’m just here to see a doctor. I assume that’s you?”

The other man didn’t trust him just yet. “Depends on what you need. You sick? Dying? Both?”

Marston shook his head. “No, nothin’ like that. I’m just lookin’ for information. I need to find two outlaws named Bill Williamson and Dutch van der Linde, and I’ve been told that you’re the person to talk to.”

The doctor fell silent at that, clearly surprised to hear those names again.

“...Why d’you wanna find them?”

John sighed in discontent. The truth was, he didn’t want to find them. Not after all the conflict that ensued between them. But he had no choice.

“I have to.” He settled with. “For the sake of my family. For my wife, and son. Their safety depends on it.”

The doctor didn’t quite understand what he meant by that, but figured it was best not to ask too many questions. This man was linked to the government, after all, and the last thing he needed was for them to come sniffing around his clinic.

“...I see. Well, in that case...”

Putting the shotgun away, the doctor finally opened the door and stepped out from the clinic’s shadows, revealing his full identity.

He was much younger than John expected, and had a striking resemblance to someone he once knew. His hair was short and blonde, his eyes were a mixture of blue and green, and a short beard outlined the edge of his jaw. 

As for his clothes, he didn’t seem to share the same fashion sense that others in the medical field had. He wore a black Rambler Jacket paired with a rather nice set of trousers, and adorned a bronze-colored vest along with a simple puff tie to top it off. The soles of his boots were worn and covered in dirt, and on his waist rested a charcoal gun belt.

But what really caught Marston’s attention... was the unmistakable hat that sat atop the doctor’s head. It seemed to be made out of leather, and had a familiar string of rope wrapped around its crown.

It appeared to be identical to the one Arthur once wore, and just based on how similar the doctor’s features looked to the man, John suddenly found himself wondering who on earth he had just run into.

The young man rested the shotgun on his shoulder, formally introducing himself.

“I’m Doctor Morgan. How can I help?”

[kamiondir]

NCIS Fic Rec List

I’ve always enjoyed finding new stories from other people’s rec lists and since I have managed to accumulate my own list, thought I’d make my own! I watched NCIS through to S12-13. Tony was by far my favourite character, so most of my recs center around him in some way. I also have a number of crossover recs - mostly with Stargate. A lot of the recs are from FFN as lots of these stories are from 10-15 years ago. All recs complete unless otherwise indicated.

* - really like   ** - love  ♥ - favourite

Case Fic

Title: One Less Author: joykatleen Season: 6 Relationship: Gen Rating/Year: PG-13; 2010 Word Count: 100-200k Content/Warnings: Character Death (Minor), Disability, Rape/Sexual Assault, Torture

Author's Summary: 'The murder of a sailor in a DC warehouse reveals a conspiracy that's been silently destroying lives on a Navy carrier for years. Someone high is covering it up. Can Gibbs and company get to the root of it before more lives are lost?'

Review:  Well-written story about a series of cases too much of a coincidence to not be connected. Gibbs goes after it with his usually stubborness, and his own brand of compassion - and his team is there to prop him up. Not the type of fic I usually read, but well-done, and probably the best NCIS Case-fic I've found. ♥

Character Study

Title: Slices of a Life Worth Living Author: Angelus1 Season: 1,2 Relationship: Gen, but meant to be pre-Tony/Kate Rating: PG-13; 2006 Word Count: 10-20k Content/Warnings: None

Author's Summary: 'Kate is surprised at how easily they fall into a routine.'

Review: An awesome, well-written look at Tony and Kate's relationship. Pre-Kate/Tony. ♥

Title: Truth is in the Sodium Thiopental Author: Mahiri Chuma Season: 7x01 Truth or Consequences Relationship: Gen Rating: PG-13; 2009 Word Count: 3-5k Content/Warnings: None

Author's Summary: 'Ten hours was an awfully long time to be stuck on a plane with a concerned Gibbs while under the influence of truth serum. Tony/Gibbs non-slash - Hints of TIVA, S7x01-Tag.'

Review: Great fic, set on the plane ride home. Tony's feeling guilty, and Gibbs notices. Very well done and an excellent Tony POV.**

Family of Choice

Title: Lessons Learned Author: jumpfall Season: 1-5 Relationship: Gen Rating: G/PG; 2010 Word Count: 1-3k Content/Warnings: Allusions to child abuse

Author's Summary: 'Gibbs' rules vary from the investigator-savvy to the cyncial to the life-saving. For every rule there is a reason. Behind every reason is a lesson learned.'

Review: A look at five different episodes where Gibbs rules come into effect. Very well done. ♥

Title: A Sense of Duty Author: GraveDigger Resurrection Season: 7x12 Flesh and Blood Relationship: Gen Rating: PG-13; 2010 Word Count: 3-5k Content/Warnings: Allusions to child abuse

Author's Summary: "You have children, Gibbs?" And in the silence of that moment, Gibbs realizes the answer is not as simple as he thought. Set mid-'Flesh and Blood'. Allusions to child abuse. Gibbs/Tony, father/son.'

Review: Well-written. More parental!Gibbs than canon, but totally in character. Has a sequel, A Sense of Family. ♥

Title: T.L.C. Gibbs’ Style Author: Obsessed Pam Season: 5 Relationship: Gen Rating: PG-13; 2008 Word Count: 10-20k Content/Warnings: None

Author's Summary: 'Tony has done it again - got himself into trouble and he is now having to face the unpleasant results of his own actions. Gibbs decides to intervene.'

Review: Tony covers for an agent who made a mistake, exposing himself to the elements and getting sick in the meantime. Gibbs is soooo not impressed. Especially when Tony seems to lose all common sense afterwards. Very well done - definitely get a harder side of Gibbs than you normally see, and a Tony who you can tell is more than just a bit broken.**

Crossovers

Title: Blood and Water Author: Commodore Norrington Fandoms: NCIS x Stargate SG-1 Relationship: Pre-Jack O’Neill/Sam Carter Rating: PG-13; 2005 Word Count: 10-20k Content/Warnings: None

Author's Summary: ‘When the leader of SG3 is murdered, Jack is forced to bring investigators to the SGC...investigators from the Naval Criminal Investigative Service.’

Review: There’s an OOC fact about Kate and Jack that’s kind of odd but doesn’t detract from the story.

Title: Conference Call Author: Moonbeam Fandoms: NCIS x Stargate SG-1 Relationship: Gen Rating: G/PG; 2009 Word Count: Drabble Content/Warnings: None

Author's Summary: ['Special Agent Tony DiNozzo makes a call to the Pentagon for a case.'

Review: Jack is willing to help when it's one of his men in trouble, and Tony thinks he could like this particular Air Force General.

Title: Detached Duty Author: zathara001 Fandoms: NCIS x Stargate SG-1 Relationship: Gen Rating: G/PG; 2017 Word Count: Verse Content/Warnings: None

Author's Summary: ‘When Gibbs, DiNozzo, and McGee are sent on TAD to investigate a death at Cheyenne Mountain, they find more than they expected.’

Review: As above! One of the more recent in this genre.*

Title: Echoes Author: Gadfly (no link available) Fandoms: NCIS x Stargate SG-1 Relationship: Gen Rating: PG-13; 2006 Word Count: 10-20k Content/Warnings: Torture

Author's Summary: ‘ Sometimes the past is echoed in the present.’

Review: Gibbs and another Marine were detained along with Jack in Iraq. When the other Marine goes missing, and Jack suspects the NID, he calls in Gibbs for assistance. With Gibbs undercover, they are able to get back the missing man, and then Jack has fun torturing Gibbs team in training scenarios. Realistic and interesting fic.* 

Title: A Fed, a General, and a Linguist Walk Into A Bar... Author: Trinket2018 Fandoms: NCIS x Stargate SG-1 Relationship: Gen Rating: G/PG; 2018 Word Count: 20-40k Content/Warnings: Kidnapping

Author's Summary: ‘Tony is hunting a serial killer in Alexandria, with competition and no back-up.’

Review: I love Tony’s interactions with SG-1 as well as the story, but the NCIS bashing is a bit more than I usually like. Overall interesting! Love the use of Tony’s undercover skills.*

Title: In Need of Shelter Author: etrangerici Fandoms: NCIS x Stargate SG-1 Relationship: Gen Rating: G/PG; 2009 Word Count: 1-3k Content/Warnings: Character Death (Canon), PTSD

Author's Summary: 'Jack was prone to collecting strays.'

Review: Where Jack runs into a distressed Tony at the grocery store after the events of 2x23 and knows what to do. Short and sweet - always wished we got more of this verse.* 

Title: Kindred Spirits Author: alcimines Fandoms: NCIS x Stargate SG-1 Relationship: Gen Rating: G/PG; 2013 Word Count: 3-5k Content/Warnings: None.

Author's Summary: 'Stargate Command and Gibbs' team from NCIS get crosswise with each other.'

Review: Jack is a 'person of interest' in a Captains murder. This doesn't go down well with anyone. Quite well done, with a hilarious tone throughout. ♥  

Title: NCIStargate Author: Keith_company Fandoms: NCIS x Stargate SG-1 Relationship: Gen Rating: PG-13; 2005 Word Count: 10-20k Content/Warnings: None

Author's Summary: 'NCIS investigates an abnormal number of Marine deaths at an Air Force facility.'

Review: An excellent crossover, set during S8 of SG-1, and between seasons 1-2 of NCIS. The NCIS gang goes to Cheyenne, where they learn of the Stargate program, and discover that Tony's had a silent visitor for most of his life.** 

Title: Open Mouth, Insert Foot Author: Willow Fireheart Fandoms: NCIS x Stargate SG-1 Relationship: Jack O’Neill/Sam Carter Rating: G/PG; 2007 Word Count: Drabble Content/Warnings: None

Author's Summary: 'Tony just can't seem to keep his mouth shut, especially when it concerns attractive blonde women.'

Review: Concerning Sam, when she and Jack are married. Tony is afterwards concerned for his life. Cute! ♥

Title: A Coin is a Coin Author: ancientmaverick Fandoms: NCIS x Stargate Atlantis Relationship: Gen Rating: G/PG; 2008 Word Count: 1-3k Content/Warnings: None.

Author's Summary: 'Tony meets a new friend and reflects on life over the past few years. Crossover with Stargate Atlantis.'

Review: S6 NCIS, S5 (or after) for SGA. Tony goes drinking with off-duty navy-men, and they're playing a 'who's met who' game at a bar, when they're challenged by an Air Force man, who uses John as the highest challenger. Tony & John get into a (very drunken, but good) conversation. Well written &a in character X-over.*

Title: Cross Jurisdiction Author: casus17 Fandoms: NCIS x Stargate Atlantis Relationship: Gen Rating: G/PG; 2008 Word Count: 40-60k Content/Warnings: None.

Author's Summary: ‘When a marine turns up dead, you call NCIS. When a marine turns up dead, with Iratus bug DNA... well then you need SGA-1. Head butting will ensue. NCIS crossover.’

Review: Good, but not great fic of the genre.

Title: Highly Classified and Very Hush Hush Author: rageprufrock Fandoms: NCIS x Stargate Atlantis Relationship: Gen Rating: PG-13; 2010 Word Count: 1-3k Content/Warnings: None.

Author's Summary: 'Gibbs sometimes wonders what he did to deserve these morons, but then he looks through the one-way window at three naked and extremely uncomfortable-looking Marines and figures it could be worse.'

Review: Hilarious, with wonderful characterizations of both fandoms by a truly excellent and well-known author. I especially love John. Also has a sequel. ♥ 

[mikiib]

The Magnus Archives: ALIEN AU (Part 3)

    Jon manages to remember to close the door to the Artifacts Room but in his panic does not lock it. Rushing quicker till he reaches the cryochamber room he immediately wakes them all up, yelling at them to get up even as he quickly looks around in paranoia for one of those creatures to pop up- there are 2 entrances to this room by door and he hastily rushes back and forth between them as the others- much more exhausted from having to rush their cryosleep recovery- question his sanity. That is- until Martin notices Jon’s neck and shirt- the entire left side of him seemingly splashed with blood. 

    Melanie at first thinks this is some elaborate joke, asking where Sasha is and when she’s gonna pop out to surprise them before Tim shuts her up- demanding to know where Sasha is if these creatures Jon’s describing are real. Jon says it was Sasha that led him into a trap with that nest of creatures, and Tim grabs the front of Jon’s shirt and slams him against the wall. 

    Tim is basically outraged at the thought that Sasha might not really be Sasha but its Georgie and Martin playing peacemakers as they pull the two apart. Georgie reasons if they really are in danger they need to go to the security surveillance hub- it’s doors can be locked on command from the inside and they all agree this is a smart idea. Nikola is quick to tend to Jon’s wound- remarking that the slash to his throat is similar to that of a barbed mouth- meant to latch on and not be yanked off for whatever reason. Jon is deeply unsettled- considering himself very lucky. Melanie picks up The Admiral- him much more sleepy than the rest to even wake up properly yet. 

    They eventually make their way to the Security room and lock themselves in there. Georgie, not wasting time as she logs into the camera system to find- not only finds the visual feed on the cameras no longer working but the audio as well. Jon turns to Tim and Martin and asks them what could’ve done that, and Tim eventually shoots back that the cameras had to have been entirely destroyed if they no longer are picking up anything. They turn to look at their own cameras location in this room and just that- the whole camera is missing from its place. 

    The room grows silent, a chill rippling across their moods as they begin to realize how serious this whole thing is. Martin then asks if there's any way for them to view the ship otherwise, Tim then points out there are the motion sensors that are all over the ship's floor panels. Only way those are busted is if they to get fully removed from the floor. Turns out they are all intact- aside from the ones in the Artifact Storage. Movement is noted coming from that direction and moving randomly now throughout the ship. 

    Nikola openly ponders just how such creatures could’ve been born on the ship- and asks them that if they are to hunt these creatures down- to bring her the corpse of one to study. She claims that even if they are violent- a dead one will be enough to bring back for proof of their events thus far. 

    They agree to this- not wanting the whole of this ship's damage to be placed on them for any reason. They split up into 2 groups, equipping themselves with some spare pipes and walkie talkies. Melanie and Georgie are Team A and Jon, Tim and Martin are Team B. Nikola is set to feed them information on the creatures locations as well as keeping track of their own. 

    Melanie and Georgie are headed towards the location Jon last said the creatures were, while the boys make their way to the engine room where movement is being tracked. 

    Jon eventually is the first to find a face hugger- it jumps out at him just as Tim bats it away from him.

Scene:

    Jon’s ears were ringing. The squeal of the creature combined with the whistle of the pipe playing back in his mind as he stares up at Tim. He doesn’t even register Martin’s hands pulling him up from the ground from where he fell out of shock until a hand presses against the small of his back to balance him.

    “You saved me,” he breaths, the present seemingly slapping him across the face as Tim snatches Jon’s crowbar from his grasp,” Thank you,” he stutters.

    “Don’t thank me yet-“ Tim steps away from him and stabs the creature from its dazed state,” I’m just fucking pissed,” he brought the weapon up into the air before repeating the action several more times until the creature stopped squirming. Its shrieks nothing but a low hum now as its impaled body is lifted up and examined.  He offers the skewered creature towards Jon, instinctively his hand reaching out to take it. The crowbar now seems to be deteriorating, bending and hissing from the blood that oozed slowly from the creature. He makes a not to see the ship has also started corroding from where the creature was brutally killed only moments prior.

    Acid blood Jon realizes as he tosses the creature's body away from the engines. Taking a moment to examine his hands to see if any had gotten on him. 

    The radio chirps as Martin reports they killed one of the creatures, and all else seems clear from that room. Static comes before Nikolas voice chimes back.

    “No, no, no! That can’t be right! More movement is still detected within that room,” Jon narrows his eye towards the radio and Tim reaches for his own as he cautiously walks through the narrow spaces of the engines, pipe in hand.

    “Where-?” In a flash Tims body is slammed backwards onto the floor from the passageway- his shout muffled and gurgled by some terrible squishing sound. In less than a moment Tims body stops struggling and Jon and Martin are stunned by the scene.

    “Tim!” they simultaneously shout, rushing forward to assist their downed crewmate.

Scene Ends

    Martin calls out for help over the radio and Nikola says she’ll meet them in the observation and medicine room. Jon swears under his breath as he struggles to carry Tim, Martin taking it upon himself to guard them with a fire extinguisher. He reasons it has enough heft it should send them flying like the crowbars. It isn’t until they reach the last stretch that they find another face hugger- going for Martin. 

    He doesn’t think as he swings his weapon, and only knocks it back a bit. He pulls the pin of the fire extinguisher and hoses the creature down- hoping to stun it as his swing didn’t seem to have much effect as he’d hoped. As the fog clears away however they find the creature is very much dead- curled in on itself like a spider. Jon shutters at the thought. They find shelter in the medical room and try not to stare too much at Tim as Nikola makes it to them- no issues that come across on her way. 

    Jon radios Team A their current situation but to no response. His nerves are on fire, as he’s torn to know why Georgie and Melanie aren’t responding and saying by Tims side. Martin tries himself, informing them of the weakness found with the fire extinguisher, and warning them of the blood. Jon didn’t tell Martin about the blood, but it seems he’s perceptive enough to have pieced it together himself.

    Melanie and Georgie however are in their own situation- too busy shutting off the radios to hide from the xenomorph that is currently searching for them. They had spotted it down the hall near the docking bays entrance, and when running away they noticed the creature jump into a vent and hear it chasing after them through them.

    Melanie and Georgie had indeed made it to the artifact storage. Now however were hiding in the office lounge- both crouching behind their respected desks. The creature jumps down from the vents, its forehead looking like a morphed face of Sasha, with a body mixed with that from what they saw on the alien ship and that of a human body. It looked wrong to say the least.

    Melanie- closer to the fire extinguisher grabs it quietly as Georgie goes to sneak towards Melanie's desk- which had a survival knife in it. As she does her pipe hits the floor creating a loud enough echo to catch the Not-Sashas attention. It screams and laughs as it hurdles its way towards Georgie. Melanie- ever quick on her feet pulls the pin and sprays the creature in the face- right before bashing it in the head. It clicks unholy sounds as Georgie grabs the knife and makes a dash for the door. Melanie follows quickly behind her but when she goes to lock the door the creature's tail shoots out and stabs her in the eye.

    She screams in pain and rage before she sprays the creature once more- it’s body not dying but shaking violently in pain from the cold as it jumps into a vent to escape the extinguisher's wrath. Just in time too as Melanie almost collapses from pain of her own bodily injury. Georgie catches her just in time.

    Georgie tells Melanie to head to the Med bay where the others are- equipping Melanie with the knife, but Melanie pleads with her to not leave her alone. Georgie kisses her forehead before pushing her off in the right direction and takes the pipe and swings at the vents opening, grabbing the aliens' attention more than Melanie's running away.  PART 1 PART 2

[shannygoatgruff]

My Brother’s Keeper - Chapter XIX

Genre: Psychological Thriller

Modern Ivar X Modern Hvitserk

Rating: MA+18

Overall Warning:  Dark story told from an emotionally distributed person’s POV with graphic and sadistic material including rape, terror, torture, kidnapping, drug use, slash, implied incest, necrophilia, and insecurity. Heavy trigger warnings.

Chapter Warning: Thoughts of murder.

A/N: So, I know I haven’t been posting much. Real life has been throwing some things my way and I haven’t felt much like writing. But, I finally finished this one. Just one more chapter after this one and it’s done! Whoot!!

Chapter XIX - Ivar’s POV

There’s something about the confident way she holds her head, with her chin stuck out and her shoulders back that draws a smirk to my lips. She’s proud – I wonder how long that will last. “Dr. Svensdottir, I presume?” Her small hand instantly disappears inside mine as her delicate fingers scrape against my palm. I would have thought a woman with such a presence would have a much firmer handshake. But, maybe playing coy is the way she tricks men into telling her what it is that she wants to know, “It’s nice to finally meet you.” 

With just the slightest bit of a nervous nod, her hand slides out from mine before she smooths her palm over the front of her skirt. What exactly is that little move about? Is she trying to wipe me off her hands or stop herself from sweating? “Please call me, Gert, Mr. Ragnarsson.” 

“Ivar,” I correct, dispensing with the formalities. The crease in her brow softens and her shoulders drop just a hint before she gestures for one of the two high back chairs on the opposite side of her desk. With a slow blink, I look from her outstretched hand to her choice of chairs before heading toward the other seating area. This area, presumably set up for therapy sessions, is more intimate. I like this space better, although it’s hideous. The oversized, ugly green chairs are placed close together, guaranteeing that we will be sitting next to each other, with no desk separating us. Don’t be afraid, Blondie. 

Unbuttoning my suit jacket, I take a seat on one of the green seats and casually cross my leg over my lap. Smiling, I turn to face her, “So, how’s our boy?”

The skirt she’s wearing is entirely too short to be professional. I wonder if this is how she tricks Hvitserk into talking about shit that he’s not supposed to, with the allure of sex. As her toned outer thigh exposes when she crosses her leg, my eyes can’t help but to drop to her left foot that shakes ever so slightly by her right calf. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Ivar. Hvitserk talks about you often.”

Oh, really? I wonder what my dear brother has told this whore about me. “All good things, I hope.” My cheeks ache from forcing a smile this wide. Anything to hide what I’m really feeling, which is more akin to reaching my hand between us and feeling her hyoid bone shatter beneath the weight of my thumb. “If they weren’t, I’ll have to blame it on his condition.” Careful, as not to make my laugh seem too forced, I chuckle easily and wipe my smile with the pad of my finger, before turning a more serious gaze on her. 

“Well,” she starts, choosing her words carefully, “you know that Hvitserk has been on a long and arduous road during his treatment. But,” she stammers quickly, looking up to make sure that she hasn’t completely turned me off before she’s gotten to the core of her argument, “he’s making tremendous progress.” Her lashes blink slowly over her large greenish-blue eyes.

Does this shit really work on the guys she meets? 

Feigning interest in this doctor is proving to be more difficult than I remember. Maybe it’s because it’s been so long since I hunted, and I don’t have time for all the bullshit and games. Right now, I just want to do what I want to do and get it over with. Yeah, I’d like to enjoy the chase, but I can always enjoy the next one. I deserve this one. A quick kill, after all this damn time. Shit, especially this bitch? She owes this to me. But bitches like this…gotta make her fear me before I make her feel me. Fuck… “Has he, now? Does that mean that he’ll be able to come home soon?”

“Well,” Is she fucking smirking? “I’m afraid that Hvitserk won’t be able to leave here – not for a very, very long time.”

“Wait, you just said,” I sit up straighter and lean closer to her.

“I said he’s made progress, not that he’s ready to leave,” she interrupts. Her eyes suddenly drop back to her lap and she studies her nails, “Those are two very different things, I’m afraid. We’ve actually reached a breakthrough in his treatment. In fact, that is what I would like to speak with you about, today. Hvitserk’s treatment.”

 I’m going to kill her.

“Funny. I’ve been trying to talk to you about my brother for…months.” I feel the smile starting to spread across my lips. I know that I’m supposed to be here for Serk, but this bitch thinks she can outwit me. We need to establish the ground rules now, before she gets hurt.

Titling my head allows me to take in the slightest nuances of her expression. Like how her eyes enlarged just a smidge at my comment, and how hard she’s swallowing. God, her discomfort are dead giveaways - she doesn’t like being challenged.

“I’ve called and you’ve refused to talk to me. I’ve sent emails, which have gone ignored. I’ve come here and been turned away.” My voice remains even and calm, just to show that I pose no threat. Can’t have her scurrying off like a scared little rabbit, now can I? “It’s interesting to me that my brother has been here for almost 18 months and though I’m his Power of Attorney, this is the first conversation that you and I have had about him.” 

“I need you to understand that as Hvitserk’s therapist, I thought it best that he not have any outside distractions.” She blinks so much when she’s nervous. It’s comical to watch her try to choose her words so they don’t offend me.

What did you tell her about me, Serk? Did you tell her that I have a penchant for flaying skin layer by layer? Or that I like to put pretty women’s faces in jars? I have a spot on my new bookcase that her face would look lovely on. 

“Distractions?” I hope that didn’t sound how I meant it; like I want to take that stapler off the desk and bash her fucking face in. “I’m his only brother – I’m not a distraction.”

She shakes her head as if to clear her thoughts. She’s not used to not having the upper hand. This conversation isn’t going the way she’d hoped. “I didn’t mean that you would be a distraction. I only meant,” she looks up as if the words she needs are magically written on the drop ceiling, “he needs to fully concentrate on his treatment.”

“And what treatment is that, exactly?” I cross my legs and lean back in my seat. Show her that you’re relaxed. Don’t give her a reason to run. “That’s all I’ve been trying to find out – what is going on with my brother.” How does Hvitserk do it when he’s uncomfortable? Oh yeah, he drops his eyes and lowers his voice. He sounds desperate. “When they took us from the house, the police wouldn’t tell me anything about him. Everything was so sudden. It’s my job to protect him and I wasn’t there for him.”

Her legs uncross and she leans a little closer. This is what this bitch wants – she wants me to be vulnerable. Well hell, I can play along. Does she think this is a fucking therapy session? That’s she’s going to get some big insight on me? Oh blondie, you don’t want to see what’s behind this mask. “But, you were released?” 

A slight nod to the left and a shoulder raise adds to my innocence, “Of course I was released. I’m innocent - I didn’t do anything. The police found no evidence to connect me to any of Hvitserk’s crimes.” The stain on the carpet, is a good place focus my gaze. If she can’t see my eyes, she can’t tell what I’m thinking, and as long as they’re lowered I can tell her anything. “I found my brother with his fiancé in my bedroom. I didn’t even know about that reporter lady in the basement…” The head shake seals the deal, “I mean, I knew he was stressed and dealing with a lot of things, blacking out and the like. But, I never suspected he was capable of anything like this. He was always so sensitive and gentle. I don’t know what happened. I didn’t do enough. I should have seen the signs – gotten him help sooner.”

Her eyes are locked on me and mine briefly catch hers before I lower them back to the floor. “You mustn’t be too hard on yourself. You did the best you could for him. You protected him the best way that you knew how.” This is too fucking easy. “Were you at the trial?”

Picking at the threads on the chair, I feel my face drop in disappointment, before I offer a slight nod, “By the time he went to arraignment they were already talking about insanity.” I clear my throat and lift my voice to just above a whisper. I don’t want to show too much emotion. This bitch does this for a living and I can’t risk her seeing through my act, “He was so out of it at his trial I doubt that he even knows that I was there. I don’t know what kind of drugs you had him on, but he didn’t recognize me.”

“I didn’t start treating him until after he was brought to our facility,” she smooths a strand of lent off the end of her skirt, keeping her eyes trained on her lap again. I’m almost impressed with how easily she lies. She knows damn well she was treating him beforehand. I saw that bitch in the courtroom. I heard her testimony. And for shits and giggles, if I hadn’t every fucking thing she dosed him with is right there in that thick ass file on her desk. Does she know who she’s talking to? I invented this fucking game. “I do know that he was heavily medicated when he first came here. It took some time before I was able to get his medication regulated and for him to become stable. He no longer has to be sedated.”

“Sedated?”

“Um, yes,” she looks at me briefly before looking around the room again, “part of his treatment is immersion therapy. Sometimes the sessions can get rather intense. The only way to pull him out of it, is to sedate him. It’s really for his own good.” She licks her lips nervously, “He struggles so much with his past.” Though I offer a knowing nod, I wonder if she can tell that I’m about two seconds off of her. “You’ll be happy to know that he’s much more active and alert now that his medication is properly managed.”

Really? Because twice when I came here to get him, he was still a fucking zombie. In fact, the last time, he fucking refused. No explanation, no crying, and bullshit; no nothing. He just fucking refused to leave with me. So tell me, bitch, how much more active and fucking alert is he?

“That’s so good to hear,” I remember seeing him bleeding on the very spot I’ve been looking at for the past ten fucking minutes, while he looked up at me from this floor, when I was standing outside of that sliding glass door. Is that her idea of active and alert? “When I try to check on him, he refuses my calls. It’s like he doesn’t seem to know who I am anymore, or that he doesn’t want to be bothered. Almost like he doesn’t need me anymore.”

“Mr. Ragnarsson,” she pauses, “Ivar, I assure you, Hvitserk is doing much better now. He’s become quite well adjusted and acclimated with our program.” She walks over to her desk to grab his file. I don’t give a shit what’s in there. It’s all a bunch of lies, anyway. “He’s actively participating in individual and group therapy sessions, now. He’s even joined a few activities. He’s especially good at drawing, did you know that?” That fake modest smile is enchanting. I wonder if I could carve it on her face permanently. 

Drawing? Really? I’m supposed to be impressed because Serk can fucking draw? What the fuck is this whore talking about?

It’s laughable that she thinks all this progress Hvitserk has made is because of her. It’s a fucking joke. He hasn’t made any damn progress, it’s a fucking game. It’s all a part of my plan to get him the fuck out of here. He’s making progress because he’s not taking those fucking drugs anymore. He can finally fucking think in this fucking place and it’s only a matter of time before he walks out the front door with a trail of bodies behind him.

“Well, that’s wonderful. Then there should be no problem with me seeing him,” I try to keep my composure, but Gert gets on my fucking nerves. I just want to see my brother. “Is he going to join us?” I turn around and look at the door as if he’s going to come bounding through it at any moment.

As soon as I turn back to face her, I notice her crestfallen expression, “I don’t think that would be such a good idea, Mr. Ragnarsson.” She places a pair of black-rimmed glasses on her nose and opens the file as if she’s concentrating on the contents therein, “As I stated, Hvitserk has been making tremendous progress. He’s becoming an active participant in his recovery. He’s solely focused on the steps he needs to take to get well, and in a healthy place.”

I bite the inside of my bottom lip until I taste the coppery of blood in my mouth. The pain is the only thing keeping me glued to this seat at the moment, but I have no problem keeping my expression pleasant.

“What I mean by that is, currently, Hvitserk is concentrating on himself. He rarely talks about you anymore, or his past or the things that haunt him. He’s at a place where he’s looking forward to his future. I’m afraid,” she keeps her eyes trained on the file, “having a conversation with you would be a huge setback for him.” She fishes out a sheet of paper and leans over to hand it to me.

I would concentrate on how much her hand is shaking and how the way the paper gently rocks as it extends toward me, but I’m far more interested in the just how tightly she’s clutching the top of it in her hand. Her knuckles are almost white, she’s gripping it so tightly. Just to fuck with her, I grab the paper close to where her hand is, and let my fingers brush her knuckle. 

I look at her, unmoved, then let my eyes roam over the contents of the paper now in my hands. 

It’s a letter in Hvitserk’s handwriting.

“Is this mine?” I ask, folding the letter in half, ready to stuff it in the inside pocket of my jacket. I watch her nod. “If this is truly what Hvitserk wants, then I won’t stand in the way of his treatment. I just ask that you keep me updated with any changes to his condition.” I go to stand and watch as the doctor stands as well. I extend my hand to her and watch the way she considers taking it, “I apologize if I have seemed overbearing or bothersome, Doctor. I am just concerned about my brother.”

She smiles and nods her head in agreement, “I completely understand, and it’s not a bother. In fact,” she shakes my hand with both of hers, “it was nice to finally meet you. Hvitserk had talked about you so much I felt like I knew you. I’m sorry this was the outcome, but I really do think it’s for the best for his treatment. Maybe later, after he’s made more progress, we can try to start introducing you into some sessions, but for now…”

I wave her off with the slight of my hand, “Whatever he needs. I would never deny him anything.” 

It takes everything I have not to burst out in a fit of laughter. This fucking doctor doesn’t know who she’s dealing with. Hvitserk isn’t fucking cured, he’s biding his fucking time. 

Let’s meet somewhere quiet, a place just for us? Maybe we could get some friends together and have a party? Yeah okay, Serk…I know exactly what you’re saying.

It’s been too fucking long, and these motherfuckers are playing with fire. Just so happens that I’m gasoline and you’re the lit match. 

I can’t wait to watch this motherfucker burn! 

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[daratheuncrowned]

What if Rhaenyra’s “Velaryon” sons looked like her?

No one will assume that Jace, Luke, and Joffrey are bastards. The Greens knew that Laenor was gay, but no one questioned the paternity of Rhaenyra’s sons until they looked so different. She and her husband both had silver hair and purple eyes; her sons had brown hair, brown eyes, and pug noses; at least Joffrey, Tommen, and Myrcella could claim to take after their mother. As Aegon II said, “Everyone knows [that they are bastards]. Just look at them.” The cost of laying with a married princess is so high that Alicent and co. will assume that Rhaenyra coerced Laenor into closing his eyes and thinking of Westeros.

Rhaenyra's "Velaryon" sons looking stereotypically Targaryen with silver hair and purple eyes will SIGNIFICANTLY help her in the Dance.

1. Jace, Luke, and Joffrey ride fierce, adult dragons.

King Viserys I made a royal decree that dragon eggs be placed in the cradles of Rhaenyra’s sons in a futile attempt to prove that they were trueborn. The tradition of cradle-eggs started with Rhaena putting eggs in Jaehaerys' and Alysanne's cradles, but it wasn't revived until Viserys desperately wanted to prove that Rhaenyra's sons were trueborn Targaryens by the logic "Only Targaryens ride dragons!" Which... doesn't make much sense because half-Targaryens can ride dragons: See Rhaenys Targaryen (daughter of Jocelyn Baratheon), Laenor Velaryon, Laena Velaryon, Aegon II, Helaena, Aemond, Daeron....

In this TL, neither Viserys not Rhaenyra would feel pressured to have Jace, Luke, and Joffrey claim dragons immediately, because no one thinks that they are bastards. They will wait until their early teens 12~13 to claim dragons in the Dragonpit or Dragonstone.

In 120, Aemond will still claim Vhagar. As a 10-year-old, he wouldn’t have visited the Dragonpit or Dragonstone in order to claim a dragon of his own. The temptation of seeing Vhagar at Driftmark would be too great. Jace, Luke, and Joffrey wouldn’t try and claim their beloved aunt’s dragon within months of her death.

After her younger half-brother claimed the greatest dragon, Rhaenyra would hasten to have her sons claim the next-greatest dragons. Like a nuclear arms race, the Blacks and the Greens will try to claim the biggest available dragons in the all-but-inevitable fight over the succession after Viserys' death. In the OTL, the "Velaryon" boys were all bonded to their respective cradle-egg dragons; no rider can bond with more than one dragon. Currently, Jace is 6, Luke is 5, and Joffrey is 3, so they haven’t claimed any dragons yet.

When he is ~12, Jace claim Vermithor (the 2nd-greatest dragon after Vhagar) and Luke will claim Silverwing (the 3rd-greatest). The two brothers are only one year apart, so they would probably claim their dragons on the same day. If only Jace claims Vermithor, the Greens could have Daeron claim Silverwing immediately. They'd be so angry after seeing their half-uncle claim their beloved aunt’s dragon that they’d be eager to claim their own fierce dragons in order to counter her “stolen” one.

Tessarion, Vermax, Arrax, Tyraxes, and Moondancer would hatch on Dragonstone, not in cradles. Since the tradition of eggs in the cradle isn’t established, the Velaryon girls will head to Dragonstone when they are 10 to claim their own dragons.

The Greens would hasten to have Daeron claim Tessarion. Once Vermithor and Silverwing are off the market, Tessarion would be the largest unbonded dragon.

When he is ~12, Joffrey will claim Seasmoke, the dragon of his “father.” Joff was 3 when Laenor died, so he can claim the handsome grey dragon.

Baela will claim Vermax, and Rhaena will claim Arrax.

Aegon will claim Tyraxes; Viserys will claim Moondancer.

Stormdancer and Morning will hatch on Dragonstone and be eventually claimed by the next generation.

There are three wild dragons— Cannibal, Sheepstealer, Grey Ghost— but Rhaenyra would never let any of her children claim them. Other dragonriders seem likely to live for a few decades, so it’s not worth waiting for them to die in order to claim Vhagar, Sunfyre, Dreamfyre, Tessarion, Meleys, Syrax, or Caraxes.

This also means that Rhaenyra doesn't need to hold the dragonseed auditions and entrust her dragons to deeply untrustworthy people, such as Ulf and Hugh.

In this case, Syrax, Caraxes, Meleys, Vermithor, Silverwing, Seasmoke, Vermax, Arrax, Tyraxes, and Stormcloud are commanded by people Rhaenyra can implicitly trust. Aegon II only has Sunfyre, Vhagar, Dreamfyre, and Tessarion; Vhagar is the biggest dragon, but even she cannot withstand 2 or 3 adult dragons at once.

2. Rhaenyra’s half-brothers will have a less acrimonious relationship with her sons.

Aegon II, Aemond, Daeron would still hate Jace, Luke, Joffrey for stealing their “birthright,” the Iron Throne. However, they would not be as willing for J/L/J to die.

I sincerely believe that Alicent's sons truly hated Rhaenyra's "Velaryon" sons much more than her Targaryen sons. They were angry that a mere half-sister would inherit the throne before them, but they were outraged that she would plop her obvious bastards, the proof of her immorality, onto the throne after her.

When Blood and Cheese killed Jaehaerys, Aegon II vowed to descend on Dragonstone in order to kill his half-sister and her “bastard sons,” Jace and Joffrey (Luke was already dead at this point). Interestingly, Aegon II did not want to kill Aegon the Younger or Viserys, who were also on Dragonstone at the time; they were still Rhaenyra’s sons, but they were legitimate and looked Targaryen, so Aegon II was more reluctant to kill them. When he first offered the peace terms, Aegon II offered to take Aegon the Younger as his squire and Viserys as his cupbearer, but he refused to let Joffrey near him. Joffrey was 11, and he didn't participate in his mother's war any more than the 9-year-old Aegon or the 7-year-old Viserys. The Green princes hated Daemon, so being Daemon's sons wouldn't soften the Green princes towards Aegon and Viserys. Of course, by the end of the war, Aegon II was so warped by bitterness and vengeance that he was willing to chop up Aegon the Younger, similar to how Rhaenyra was willing to kill Jaehaera and Maelor by the end.

3. Luke doesn’t stab out Aemond’s eye.

Joffrey does not have catch Aemond riding Vhagar. Aemond got up at the crack of dawn to claim Vhagar before anyone could notice and stop him. Joffrey had a habit of waking up early so that he could watch his hatchling, Tyraxes. In this scenario, Joffrey wouldn’t have a dragon yet and wouldn’t wake up so early. More likely, the guards would be awakened by Vhagar’s roars and rush to find Aemond on the great dragon.

Let’s say the "Velaryon" boys still find Aemond before others do, and they still get into a physical tussle. In the real timeline, Aemond beat the three younger boys. They backed away, and the fight would have ended then. However, Aemond called them Strongs; Jace, who is normally level-headed and responsible, snapped and punched his half-uncle; Aemond started bashing Jace’s head with a wooden sword; Luke slashed across Aemond’s face with a dagger, trying to defend his older brother. In this scenario, the fight would stop, or it would be much less violent and a guard would eventually break them up.

4. Otto Hightower isn’t Hand when King Viserys I dies.

Lyonel Strong, Lord of Harrenhal, was Viserys’ leal Hand. However, he died in the fire at Harrenhal, and Viserys recalled Otto Hightower to be Hand.

In this TL, the Strongs won't die. I've narrowed down the murderer to Viserys OR Larys Strong and the Greens.

It was not Corlys. Mushroom thought that Corlys wanted to punish the man who had cuckolded his son. However, he knew from Day 1 that Laenor was gay and Rhaenyra had a stud to father her sons. He seemed to like his three “grandsons,” and he knew that his real grandchild (Baela) would become queen by marrying his “grandchild” (Jace).

It was not Daemon. Daemon would have liked to father Rhaenyra’s oldest son and heir, but his daughter with Laena was set to marry Jace and become queen. When he returned to Westeros in 117, he and Rhaenyra engaged in a physical relationship and Rhaenyra did not have any more “Strong” children; this suggests that she was so busy with her handsome uncle that she neglected her sworn shield.

Despite his denials, Viserys knew that Rhaenyra's sons were bastards. The incident with Aemond and Luke proved that the secret of his grandsons' paternity could unleash devastating consequences.  If Harwin revealed her secret, Viserys would have to send his favorite child to the Silent Sisters, his grandsons to the Wall, and make an eternal enemy of the Velaryons. He didn’t count on his capable and strong Hand dying in the fire.

Larys had everything to gain from his father and brother dying. In one stroke, he would become the Lord of Harrenhal, and he had plenty of friends inside the castle to engineer an "accident." The Greens feared that Lyonel would secretly want his grandson Jace to become king and support Rhaenyra when Viserys died. As the Dance showed, a Hand is very powerful in between kings. They made a deal: Larys became a master of whisperers on the Small Council in exchange for his services.

In either case, neither party is motivated to kill the Strongs. Viserys has no proof that his grandsons are bastards, and there are no ugly incidents like Aemond losing his eye. Larys still wants to kill his father and brother, but the Greens have no real reason to off Larys. He might be pro-Black because his son is Rhaenyra's sworn shield, but he is law-abiding and capable; he could just as easily support Aegon II, because a brother comes before a sister in all inheritance systems and the Great Council of 101.

Lyonel could support either Aegon II or Rhaenyra, but he'd probably prefer Rhaenyra because he secretly knows that Jace is his grandson. He will definitely be more amenable to Rhaenyra’s claim than Otto Hightower, the Hand when Viserys I died. Otto was willing to die in order to make his grandson king (and he did).

In the real timeline, only one person on the Small Council supported Rhaenyra— Lord Beesbury— who was promptly killed; the Hand is the most powerful member of the Council and he can speak with the King’s voice in the interim between the monarch’s passing and the new one’s coronation. Lyonel’s support could make all the difference for Rhaenyra.

Let's say Lyonel still dies-- he gets a stroke, falls off his horse, or eats bad seafood. In this TL, RHAENYRA would probably become Hand. After Lyonel died in the OTL, Viserys "briefly... considered sending for Princess Rhaenyra. Who better to rule with him than the daughter he meant to succeed him on the Iron Throne?" However, he decided not to because "more conflict with the queen and her own brood would have been inevitable." In this case, there aren't the big, violent squabbles between the Green and Black princes, and the peace-loving Viserys dismisses smaller incidents as "horseplay." If Rhaenyra is the Hand AND heir when her dad dies, she

5. King Viserys I doesn’t die so soon.

Viserys became ill after cutting his hand on the Iron Throne. He contracted an infection and had to remove several of his fingers; he was greatly weakened and died in two years.

When Corlys named Luke the heir to Driftmark, his nephew Vaemond protested the decision; Luke was a bastard. Rhaenyra fed Vaemond to her dragon, and his cousins pled for justice from the king. Viserys received these Velaryons with fury, and he ordered that their tongues be ripped out. As he was descending from the throne, he cut his hand to the bone.

In this scenario, no one knows Rhaenyra’s sons are bastards → Vaemond doesn’t petition Corlys for Driftmark → Rhaenyra doesn’t kill Vaemond → Velaryon cousins don’t petition Viserys for justice → Viserys does not cut his hand → Viserys does not contract a deadly infection that permanently weakens him → Viserys doesn't die in just two years.

6. Visenya lives

Viserys died in early 129. At the time, Rhaenyra was heavily pregnant and located on Dragonstone; this gave the Greens the opportunity to seize the capital and crown Aegon II king. Her rage at Aegon II’s treachery induced early labor, and Visenya was born dead. Rhaenyra gave birth to five healthy children; she seemed likely to deliver a healthy daughter. Rhaenyra already has five healthy sons, but I’m sure she’d love and cherish her only daughter.

7. Rhaenyra could have relocated to the capital when her father was ailing.

In the real timeline, the fight between the "Velaryon" princes and Aemond in 120 was the inciting factor that led Viserys to order Rhaenyra and her sons to contain themselves to Dragonstone and Alicent and her sons to the Red Keep. Even though she attended the court for special occasions like feasts and to provide Maester Gyldayn for Viserys, Rhaenyra was largely absent from the capital since.

Rhaenyra would probably still spend the majority of her time on Dragonstone because of her hatred for Alicent and her half-brothers. However, when Viserys I becomes ill (he won’t cut his hand, but he’d still have gout and chest pain and wheeze), she could request that she and her sons relocate to the capital so that they can spend time with Viserys. This wasn’t an option available to her in the real timeline because of Viserys’ decision in 120 to separate the Greens from the Blacks.

8. Rhaenyra can go to the capital immediately after Viserys’ death.

If Viserys dies later on, Rhaenyra would have safely given birth to Visenya. She could launch onto Syrax and fly to the capital to claim her crown as soon as Viserys dies. She had 5 sons within 8 years, and then there was a 7 year interim between her last son, Viserys, and Visenya. She was now in her mid-30s, so she was unlikely to have more children; Visenya seemed like a happy surprise.

9. Aemond won’t kill Luke.

If the Dance still breaks out in the same way, Jace and Luke might not be sent as envoys. Since Rhaenyra isn’t ill after giving birth to Visenya, she herself could be one of the envoys. Also, a part of Jace’s reasoning was his desire to prove his uncles wrong and show that he was a true dragon-riding Targaryen; this insecurity does not exist because no one accuses him of bastardry, so he mightn't volunteer himself and Luke.

Assuming Luke still goes to Storm’s End: Aemond doesn’t have an especial grudge against Luke. In the real timeline, Aemond hated Luke more than any of his other half-nephews for stabbing out his eye; if Jace or Joffrey had been sent to treat with Lord Borros, Aemond would not have been so eager for revenge. Maris definitely couldn’t taunt him about Luke taking his balls and his eye, which snapped his already-fragile ego.

Luke has a dragon that could potentially beat Vhagar. Silverwing is not as old, fierce, or large as Vhagar, but she is the third-greatest dragon. Arrax, the OTL Luke’s dragon, was 1/5 of the size of Vhagar and was killed immediately. Aemond might not try and kill Luke if he knows that Silverwing could potentially kill his Vhagar. Aemond wasn’t brave, and he never engaged unless he was sure of victory; when Daemon and Nettles looked for him, Aemond hid in the Riverlands despite having a greater dragon; even when Daemon challenged him alone, Aemond waffled for 13 days until meeting his challenge, even though Daemon’s Caraxes was half of Vhagar’s size. Silverwing is bigger than both Caraxes and Sheepstealer. If Aemond does decide to attack Luke anyways, Luke could at least rip off one of Vhagar’s wings or fatally pierce her stomach while dying; Luke is a much less experienced fighter than his stepfather, but Silverwing is a prodigious dragon.

[revenge-of-the-shit]

Sneak Peak - Disconnected Conduit, Chapter 14

BECAUSE it is taking me too long to finish this fucking chapter, here’s a sneak peek because y’all deserve it. I’ve posted part of this sneak peek before, but here’s some new content. Unbeta’d. 

Then.

The trees of Dathomir cast long shadows with their branches. They stretch across the sky in a haphazard pattern, forming a jagged canopy that looms high over their heads. 

The moment Ahsoka steps off the ship, the branches twitch, stretching ever so slightly to turn towards her with reaching, spidery fingers. She smiles. Of course they’re reaching towards her - she’s Light. She’s life. 

Behind her, her masters step off the ship as well. Anakin’s body merges with each shadow cast by the branches, making his body look half-formed at best, a strange, twisted caricature of a half-human. It doesn’t really look like he’s walking - Ahsoka thinks his movements look far too smooth for that. Humans always have a certain way of walking - there’s always a slight up-down motion of their bodies every time their feet strike the ground. But with Anakin, there isn’t even the slightest bit of that. Just a strange, continuous forward motion.

If she looks at his face, she thinks that it would scare most people with how it only looks half-formed, like a body with pale skin and a mouth slashing through its cheeks with his head half-bashed in, only his head isn’t really bashed in - it’s just partially formed of incorporeal shadow. 

As for Obi-Wan, the part of Ahsoka that’s still a regular Togruta thinks it’s almost humorous how he seems to glide rather than walk, his legs completely dissolved into a blue-green mist that occasionally swirls to form a semblance of human legs before coalescing into a shapeless cloud again. 

It would be funny if it didn’t look so wrong. Her masters don’t look human at all. 

And she doesn’t care. She’s not afraid - she accepts it, because she knows she doesn’t look Togruta at all. She knows that when they look at her, they see something that’s not right.

“You look upset,” Anakin tells Obi-Wan. His voice sounds all strange, as if his normal voice is layered with the voice of the Son and something else, except Ahsoka can’t quite catch those other sounds. They’re there, but they’re just at the edge of her hearing, making it easy for her to think that she’s imagined it. 

Obi-Wan is looking downwards, frowning at the mist which should be making up his legs, but aren’t. “Well, I do seem to have an unfortunate amount of trouble remembering what a normal body should feel like.”

Anakin laughs, and so does Ahsoka. Anakin’s laugh is sharp and harsh and a tad too cold to sound like him. “It’s alright, Master,” Anakin teases. “The fading memory comes with the age.” 

“Yeah. You’re getting old, Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka adds, and both she and Anakin laugh again when Obi-Wan turns to her with a betrayed look. 

“Of all the padawans to be saddled with, it had to be you two,” he grumbles, and Anakin slings an arm of shadow around Obi-Wan’s half-dissolved shoulders. It works, strangely, the shadow mingling with the blue-green to turn it into a muddled colour where they make contact. 

“Admit it, you wouldn’t know what to do without us.” Anakin’s smile is too wide, his teeth too sharp and gleaming, yet Obi-Wan looks at it, completely unfazed, with the same amount of fond exasperation as he always does. “Right, Snips?”

“Of course,” Ahsoka laughs again, and a part of her marvels at how it sounds entirely unlike her. The laughter rings like bells across the forest, making the trees shift as they straighten at the sound. 

It’s not her laughter. It sounds absolutely nothing like her, and it should scare her. 

It doesn’t. 

--

The walk to the Nightsister coven is a short one. They spend half of it bantering as if there’s nothing amiss, the other half in a contemplative silence. While his padawans are bickering, Obi-Wan takes a moment to observe the changes within them as well as the ones within himself. Clearly, the Force on Dathomir has affected them in some way, uncovering their… true presences, for lack of better term. 

He wonders how the Nightsisters will receive them. He wonders if Asajj Ventress will be there, and he takes a moment to savor her potential reaction. 

“Master Kenobi?”

Ahsoka’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts. He glances at her quizzically, and she looks pointedly at his torso. He looks down. 

“Ah.” He looks back up, and carefully moves to the side. He’d been half-inside a tree and he hadn’t noticed. “Thank you.”

“That’s the fourth tree you’ve walked through,” Anakin notes. He says it almost casually, as if it’s something that’s perfectly normal. He raises his hand, pointing towards some of the low-hanging pods which are strung up on the branches of the trees up ahead. “I wouldn’t want to walk through those if I were you.” 

Obi-Wan dips his head. “Of course not.”

He knows what’s in the pods. The information in the Temple archives had detailed how all deceased Nightsisters were buried in such pods near the coven. What’s more, though many of them are long dead - perhaps centuries old, even - he can still sense the way the Force moves through them, sickly and slowly and with a carefully manipulated coldness. The thought of him passing unknowingly through the graves of the dead sisters not only makes him shudder - it makes him feel guilty. It would be very disrespectful, after all - it is one thing to walk over someone’s grave, and another to walk straight through it. 

They pass through the pods in silence, respectfully keeping a distance.

Something twitches at the edge of his vision. He looks sharply and sees nothing there, but a slight chill runs through his back. After they've passed the fifth pod, he speaks out. "The pods should be filled with bodies." 

Anakin raises an eyebrow. "They are."

They walk past another pod, and Obi-Wan's reason for speaking becomes clear when something inside the pod twitches and nudges the linens in an attempt to move closer to them. The lining of the pods do not break, but Obi-Wan is certain that there are bodies inside there that are moving. 

"It's because of me," Ahsoka says nonchalantly. They turn to face her. The unnatural glow coming from her skin bathes the area around them with a white-gold hue, making her difficult to look at directly. “The Light is waking them up. I’m not pushing enough energy to fully awaken them, but it’s enough to make them move a little.” 

She looks completely unfazed at the prospect of accidentally making the dead reawaken. 

(Through their training bond, Obi-Wan can sense that she really isn’t afraid at all, and it makes him worry. It’s not right. She doesn’t even seem interested - just too calm. Too serene. Too peaceful.)

A sudden spike of fear, carefully controlled but present, alerts Obi-Wan to several presences ahead. He turns to the entrance of the coven to see Mother Talzin and a couple of sisters flanking her only a short ways away. One of the sisters is robed in red; the other in black, with two familiar twin lightsabers at her belt. 

Asajj Ventress. 

Behind Obi-Wan, he senses Ahsoka’s emotions darken in a protective, vengeful anger just as he hears Anakin growl “Ventress” in a threatening tone. Before they can move, Obi-Wan throws out a hand, holding them back with the blue-green mist. 

“Let us not be hasty,” he quietly reminds them. Ahsoka complies immediately, her anger dissipating back into the strange calmness, whereas Anakin pushes against the blue-green mist for a few moments before he, too, relents. “The Council has agreed to leave her alone only on this planet provided that she does not attack us. And I sense no malice from her.” 

There definitely isn’t any malice at all. Instead, as they approach, though Ventress’ face is hidden by a cloth mask, Obi-Wan can sense the sharp fear that murmurs around her in the Force. When he and his padawans finally arrive at an acceptable distance to speak with the Nightsisters, Mother Talzin bows low, bending at the waist, while the two sisters at her side drop to their knees. 

“Great Ones,” she greets, “you honor us with your presence.” 

In the Force, Obi-Wan can sense Anakin’s glee at Ventress’ terror and deference. 

“It is the Will of the Force that we were the Jedi who were sent to aid you in defending your home,” Obi-Wan says in return. He pushes aside feelings of discomfort at their submission - as a general, he knows well enough when to use an advantage if necessary. “You may rise.” 

The Nightsisters straighten up and stand. Only Mother Talzin dares to meet Obi-Wan’s eyes. “We do not have much time. Your arrival has strengthened our magicks and our abilities of divination.” Her eyes wander to Ahsoka’s form, then to behind her back, where the wings of white-gold shimmer, nearly invisible to the naked eye. Talzin’s eyes then flicker to Anakin. “Dooku wishes to pull another trick. His attack will arrive one week earlier than anticipated - we have but two rotations to prepare.”

Anakin smirks, the expression horrifying on a face where the mouth stretches from ear to ear. “Good,” he laughs, and the Nightsisters flinch at the sharp edge of his tone. “I don’t like waiting.” 

Mother Talzin smiles then, and Obi-Wan is strongly reminded of why she is the clan Mother. Even Ventress, a powerful Force user in her own right, pales in comparison to the power he senses in Talzin. As if sensing his thoughts, Talzin turns to him, a grateful smile on her lips with a hardened glint in her eyes. “Your very presence will aid us greatly in our fight against Dooku’s minions,” she says, and had Obi-Wan still been fully human, he would have shuddered. 

But he’s not. So instead he offers her a smile, and they make their way inside to begin preparations.

[amintyworld]

Blood - Steven Universe Witch and Demons AU Oneshot

A/N: So, I’ve recently fell in love with some Steven Universe AUs, and stumbled on @ask-suauwitchanddemons​. They’re art is amazing and the story is so fun, please check them out when you have the time! Anyway, this one shot is for them, and I hope they like it. -Minty

Summary: Steven reunites with a ‘old friend’.

TW: Blood, Character ‘death’, Character near death, fighting, anxiety, panic. (Let me know if I missed any!)

Rain pelted down the dark forest, and Steven held Connie close in his embrace. She shouldn’t have run in the way. Why was she so reckless?!

“Ah, Steven…it’s been forever, hasn’t it…”

Steven looked up in a rage at his all too familiar foe - Jasper. Her horns were curved, and she was taller and larger than Steven. Her right hand was a deep crimson from the blood, and her claws were razor sharp on her fingertips. Jasper grinned, a deep slash across her face. “I guess those pathetic humans are good for something after all. Not that her sacrifice made much of a difference.”

“What are you doing here, Jasper?” Steven said, his voice calm, but rage filling his entire body from head to toe. “I thought the Demon Queens cut down on demons in the human realm.”

“I’m here on direct orders, runt.” Jasper said, holding up a pair of white handcuffs. “Though I’d love to beat you into the dirt, they said to bring you back alive.” They landed down with a small thud. “You’re coming with me.”

Steven looked down at Connie, his lady - Jasper’s slash went pretty deep. Her heart still faintly beat, and she shivered in the rain. Steven took off his coat and wrapped her delicately inside it. He looked up at the approaching threat, and slowly put down Connie under a tree out of the falling rain. “Don’t worry, my lady. I promise, I won’t go far.”

“Helping that human is worthless, Steven. She’s already dead.” Jasper said. “Now, let’s go back home, shall we?”

“No.”

“No?” Jasper teased. “Oh, I’m so scared of a little runt like you.”

“You should be, because in about 10 seconds you’re going to be on the floor, and I’m going to be the one that walks away.”

“Stop the dramatics.” Jasper sighed, grabbing Steven’s arm before being smacked back down on her back.

“You’re going to regret messing with my lady.”

Jasper’s eyes narrowed as she jumped back up and unheathed her claws, the blood from earlier nearly washed off in the rain. She ran, dodging his attacks as he moved his fingers, moving boulders. He jumped as she slashed, and summoned a knife as he fell down quickly, ramming the blade into her head. Jasper let out a scream, pulling the blade out quickly, and slashing, Steven falling as he got hit, his rage only boiling higher as he kicked her into a tree.

Then, nothing.

Steven huffed, pain and blood mixing with the sting and coolness of the rain as he walked toward Jasper. “I’m much more than a runt, Jasper. I’m a demon.” He summoned a knife and stood over her. “Now, when you crawl back to those Queens, send them a message for me:”

He plunged the knife in her heart. “Send a million armies, send all of the underworld itself - I will never go back.”

With a puff of purple mist, she was gone. Steven huffed, his wounds stinging, as he headed back to his lady. Steven knew Jasper wasn’t really gone, but sent back to the underworld by force. Demons could never really be dead.

Connie looked weak and pale, almost fragile, as if she could break at any moment. The sight caused a weird feeling, almost like a pain in his chest.

“My lady, hold on.”

He held Connie close and leaped from tree to tree, rushing to Connie’s shack on the top of the hill. He bashed the door in and laid Connie on the couch. The rain pounded down from the roof, almost deafening. Steven put his ear to her chest for a moment, like Connie had taught him.

It was slow and weak. That…wasn’t… good.

Steven placed his hands on her stomach and focused, trying to ignore the uncomfortable panic and throbbing in his chest. He closed his eyes and desperately tried to focus. Darkness greeted him, and he whispered a small chant under his breath, lighting up the palms of his hands a deep magenta.

“Ac tenebras, se ex inferis, vivificabit eam animam eius cor … mentem …”

Connie breathed in deeply, her eyelids shooting open. She tried to sit up, but Steven stopped her. “Don’t move, my lady. You must rest.”

“Steven! What…what happened?!” Connie asked. The deep cuts vanished, but the bloodied couch remained. So much blood that she should be dead. Why wasn’t she dead?

“Sorry for the bit of trouble, my lady.”

“Who…” Connie shifted, pain shooting up her spine. “Who was that?!”

“No one important.” Steven said, looking toward his lady in concern. “Are you alright, my lady?”

“Tired… sore, maybe.” Connie said. Steven almost looked…relieved?

“Just rest. You’ve been through a lot today.” Steven said, turning to leave, when Connie grabbed his hand.

“Can…can you stay? Please?” There was a bit of fear, almost pleading in Connie’s voice.

Though it was irrational, it made no reasonable sense whatsoever, was against all his training with the Crystal Witches, and against all his time as a Demon… he stayed.

Steven, for the first time, felt…happy.

[movienotesbyzawmer]

October 26: Friday the 13th Part VIII - Jason Takes Manhattan

(previous notes: Friday the 13th Part VII - The New Blood)

I know that this is devastating news for you but I'm almost done watching the Friday the 13th movies and posting here about them. Believe me it hurts me a lot less than it hurts you. Or something. Whatever, I'm not enjoying these movies so I look forward to moving on to a slightly more worthwhile project, such as those Fantastic Beasts movies. That's a joke get it, those movies blow.

So to recap… Jason drowned as a little boy in Camp Crystal Lake and his mom perceived negligence on the part of horny teenage camp counselors so she kills a couple of them before her son even drowns and then twenty years later she takes up that cause again bigly. She gets beheaded but Jason, still a boy in the lake, pulls his mom’s killer in the water which makes her very whelmed. Then a few years later Jason is an adult-sized monster who stalks that camp and the houses in the area, violently murdering everyone he can, and in different methods whenever that is feasible. At one point he gets so stabbed that he is apparently definitively dead enough to get buried in a spooky graveyard, but the guy that originally stabbed him so effectively thinks he needs to dig him up and extra-kill him. But lightning strikes a pole that got stuck in Jason so he just stops being dead and goes back to being a murder monster. He eventually gets anchored to the bottom of Crystal Lake but a girl who lives on the lake has powers which mostly involve moving things with her mind, but she also was able to inadvertently will Jason up from the lake so he could just keep doing the same death stuff. After many killings and poorly-thought-out chases through the woods, the magic girl uses her power to have her dead dad come up from the lake and pull Jason into it in such a manner as to convince her that Jason is just gone forever.

So then how can there be another movie I don't understand.

Maybe the first seven movies were all a dream, and this one is just a movie.

What does it tell you that I'm putting off starting this movie.

Again I haven't seen this eighth movie. It came out when I was 18, but even though it promised a tongue-in-cheek, self-aware, campy experience I just didn't fit it into my busy schedule of wanting girls to like me even a little. I do remember kind of rooting for it to be fun and funny, but based on having just watched the first seven movies in the series, my confidence that there will be any decent humor here at all is very, very low. Okay. It is time. This truly is the beginning of the end.

It begins and an unfamiliar narrator describes the intensity of The City as we see Manhattan-at-night imagery. Totally doesn't seem like the other movies right off the bat. Oh also the score is a pop song that sounds like it is approximately 36 months older than this 1989 movie.

Okay… we're actually apparently back to Crystal Lake, and now that narrator is apparently a radio DJ who is giving a shout-out to the graduating kids of Crystal Lake. For some reason he cares about them and says something that is strangely both welcoming and mournful about them coming to the city.

These two attractive people are getting busy on a large boat on the lake. It is Crystal Lake, that is established, but this boat is too large for this lake. This is like having a Jet Ski on an above-ground backyard pool.

They drop the anchor and it catches on a high voltage cable that is running at the bottom of the lake! It makes sparky electro-fire under there, and it jolts probably-Jason's body under some of the collapsed dock stuff and he un-dies and climbs out of the water! We even hear a warlocky "ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!"

Jason goes into the room where the couple is having another go, and he shoots a harpoon at the girl but misses! But he has some other stabby thing and he stabs the guy with it. The girl got away, but he finds her where she's hiding and kills her kind of slowly. Like, he very slowly bears down on her as she screams and it's like they have time for someone to save the day. But there is no one. No one saves the day. The day ends with her just getting stabbed with the harpoon.

Now it's new characters in a new place. Looks like the eastern seaboard, an ocean port, and some students are getting on a boat that is going to New York. It's the graduating students the DJ was talking about. There is a girl who interacts with a woman who is apparently her admiring teacher and a man in a suit who is her legal guardian. Something about her being troubled. Then there's this captain, and he's talking to one of the kids like they are father and son. His name is Shawn and he is handsome like a movie star.

0:16:00 - Whoa, Jason is suddenly on the ship! This is totally not Crystal Lake, and the ship has left the port, but Jason emerged from the water and grabbed onto the ship! Then Shawn runs into a creepy deckhand who tells him this cruise is doomed. That is important to the formula, apparently. It is then established that Shawn is the boyfriend of Troubled Girl. How troubled can she be if she has a boyfriend who looks like he was rejected by New Kids On The Block for being handsomer than the rest of the group.

The rollout of this motley cast of characters continues with a rocker girl and a longhaired filmmaking auteur. The rocker girl walks around with her guitar rocking, and the auteur films her for a video. But then they part ways, and she goes down below decks to experience the primo echo acoustics or something. She just rocks down there by herself with nothing but her rad axe. Not even an amp, even though she succeeds in playing loud rock music. But Jason shows up! He chases her a bit, gets his hands on her electric guitar and bashes her to death with it.

0:23:14 - Whoa, surprisingly ambitious shot they pulled off! In all one shot we see Jason come down some stairs onto like a promenade deck, then he looks at the porthole window of a room, and the camera goes through the porthole and continues through the room in a way that is not at all obvious to understand how they did it! Good job!

It's Troubled Girl's room. She has a vision of a drowning little boy. Little Boy Jason, I guess. If I’m supposed to know her relationship to Jason, I must have missed it.

So suit guy is Troubled Girl's uncle, I get that now. But also he is chaperoning the kids on this cruise so he's like a teacher. And he is very stuffy.

There are two new characters, boy-crazy girls, and between them and Troubled Girl there is a lot of hairspray in this movie's budget.

Uncle Suit walks in on Boy-Crazy 1 & 2 doing cocaine! He doesn't quite catch them in the act, so he just says something menacing about how one of them has a project due. But aren't they graduating? And on the "we made it" celebratory cruise? One of the Boy-Crazy girls (2 I think) is played by Kelly Hu, who has had plenty of success these past 30 years. But for now she is just Boy-Crazy 2.

Someone is in the sauna, this little ship has a sauna. I have no idea who the boy is in the sauna because he covered his face with a towel. Jason comes in and grabs a scalding hot rock, way bigger than the hot rocks that usually are in saunas, and kills the boy by shoving the big rock through his chest.

Boy-Crazy 1 has gotten it into her head that Troubled Girl is the one who got Uncle Suit to walk in on them doing drugs, so she bumps Troubled Girl into the water! Before getting fished back onboard she has a vision of Little Boy Jason pulling her down. Some other unrealistic interactions take place when she gets back on deck, but then she has really scary visions in the bathroom.

0:35:00 - In perhaps the most gruesome scene in this series so far… Boy-Crazy 1 is in her cabin wearing a silk robe. Uncle Suit walks right the fuck in and gets all huffy at her about "where's your biology project". He's serious! And she is ready for that question because she jettisons the robe to reveal that she has drawn some artful anatomy references on her underwear'd body! She's unambiguously seductive and kisses him and pulls him into bed! He is mostly not having it and eventually wriggles his way away from her scoldingly. But Auteur was filming! It was all a blackmail plan of some kind.

The next scene is Boy-Crazy 1, just moments after blackmailing Uncle Suit, getting out of the shower in her bathroom as Jason comes in. She sees him come in and look around and decides to just stay in the bathroom and be scared. But he smashes his arm through the door, tosses her around a little, smashes the bathroom mirror, and after another drawn-out approach, stabs her with a piece of the broken mirror.

In the very next scene, the ship's pilot is piloting when Jason creeps up from behind and kills him with something long and sharp and snippy. Then the Dad Captain comes in and finds the body, and just like that Jason is behind him with a knife. It's just a run-of-the-mill throat-slash but it's edited with a stylish frame-rate effect so it's still fresh and exciting.

Shawn finds this carnage right away and since he's the Captain's son he has some ship cred, maybe he can get the ship back to shore! But when he tries to radio for help, Jason cuts some cable somewhere to thwart it. And he just seems disappointingly clueless about what to do otherwise.

Everyone assembles in the cockpit - what do you call a cockpit on a ship, I forget - and Creepy Deckhand repeats his warning that the cruise is doomed, and this time he says he knows Jason Is on the ship to kill everyone, but Uncle Suit is so mad at that story that he grabs a knife and comes at the creepy deckhand! Others are around though so the fight is broken up.

Boy-Crazy 2 wasn't with everyone who went to the cockpit; she decided to go look for Boy-Crazy 1. But when she finds her body, she runs around screaming! And instead of ending up someplace where there is anyone, she ends up in the unoccupied disco. Loud music is playing. Lights are swirling. Sensory overload. And Jason is there! He kills her by strangling her to the kind of music that all the kids like nowadays.

Auteur always has his camera, and now he is shuffling around the ship with his camera in one hand and a shotgun in the other. Someone suddenly appears in front of him and he accidentally shoots the guy. He starts to feel bad about that, although continuing to film, but then Jason shows up, knocks the camera away, and chases him. He kills Auteur by picking him up and throwing him so hard at an electrical console that all the electricity blows up and makes him be on fire and twitchy and dead!

Shawn's friend from before is just wandering scared on the decks when he runs into Jason, so he climbs a ladder up a mast. Even though he climbs up way past Jason, Jason can still somehow reach up and throw him on some stuff, we don't see what stuff, but it makes him be Dead Friend.

Pretty chaotic on this ship; Jason watches some of them trying to figure out a place to be. Uncle Suit, what is his deal. He had an argument with someone about using the flare gun. There's a storm so no one will see it, someone says, but Uncle Suit makes some sinister comment about there only being one person that needs to see it. The fire is super problematic from Auteur getting killed, and now the ship is flooding for some reason? Is the storm just that bad?

Uncle Suit yells at Shawn, he says "this is all your fault!" What the hell is he talking about. Shortly thereafter Creepy Deckhand shows up and Uncle Suit aims the flare gun at him, he just thinks he needs to shoot Creepy Deckhand with the flare gun, that was his strategy all along! That and blame all these violent murders on one of the kids who fancies his niece. But the flare gun does nothing and Creepy Deckhand was already about to die anyway because there is an axe in his back.

The survivors have all now gotten into a lifeboat, and now they are just rowing away on a lifeboat. It's taking forever to get anywhere, just how far off shore were they? Their rowing is extremely weak and devoid of urgency to a level that puts it among the more unbelieveable things in this movie.

Uncle Suit literally snarks at Shawn, "I hope you can find shore soon, CAPTAIN! We don't all want to drown out here!" I admit, if they make his death really violent it will be satisfying. Yes indeed. Well played, Friday the 13th Part VIII: Jason Takes Manhattan. Well played.

1:03:40 - Oh, the reason it was taking them so long to get anywhere in their little lifeboat is that they had to end up in New York harbor, right off Manhattan! They find a dock area and start looking around for help… and Jason also climbs up on the dock because he just was able to follow them there somehow.

Also, by the way, Troubled Girl's beloved dog came with them in the lifeboat.

They get mugged right there at the dock. Because Troubled Girl is pretty, the muggers take her away! They take her to their little headquarters in a gap between two warehouses, say "welcome to the casbah sister" and inject her with liquid narcotics… but Jason shows up and finds the needle that just got used, and he actually stabs the first mugger with the needle! Because he's Jason, he can stab someone so hard with a three inch needle that it writhes painfully all the way through his body and kills him! Another mugger tries to shoot Jason, but mugger bullets are no match for Jason Voorhees, so he clangs the guy to death on a metal pipe while Troubled Girl runs away.

One of the remaining students somehow runs afoul of Jason shortly thereafter, not sure how he got separated from the rest of the group. But Jason chases him onto a roof of a nearby building, and I'm sitting here typing this as many, many of this movie's seconds are spent with this student trying to beat up Jason with his fists! He just punches him and punches him and punches him repeatedly for a while, and Jason just sort of barely notices. Finally, Jason takes one swing and knocks the guy's head off.

Just as quickly as they all got inexplicably separated, the four remaining people from the cruise all run into each other with an NYPD cop, so it looks like everything is going to be okay… but when they get into the squad car, a mugger head is on the dashboard! Jason is there! He gets the cop! The rest are in the car so Troubled Girl drives away… but she has a stylish vision of Little Boy Jason, and that ends with Actual Jason on the ground inexplicably unmoving, the cop car ramming a building and exploding violently, and Troubled Girl's hair looking more fabulous than ever before. Three of them got out of the car before it exploded, but the teacher who was nice to Troubled Girl at the beginning isn't with them so maybe she blew up with the cop car.

1:17:00 - Oh a flashback! Young girl who is probably Young Troubled Girl is lake boating with Uncle Suit. POS that he is, he tells her that she needs to learn to swim or Jason Voorhees will get her, and he even pushes her into the lake so that she'll learn the hard way! What a tool! Little Boy Jason is down there, we see, grabbing at her ankles to hold her down.

Back to the present day, she confronts him about it and runs away. Then Jason gets up and walks at Uncle Suit! Why, he wasn't dead at all! Then a very strange thing happens which I don't think was a fully baked cinematic setpiece… Uncle Suit runs away into a building. Seconds later, Jason throws him out of a second floor window of that building. Then Jason is next to him in the alley where he fell, and he grabs him and shoves him in a barrel of sludge until he drowns.

All that's left are Troubled Girl and Shawn. She reveals that one of the reasons she's so troubled is that her parents died in a car accident and she was at school when she heard the news. Well of course she's a basket case, it's no wonder no one understands how to deal with her. That is the most intense story I've ever heard in my life. Or they just never got around to writing a more interesting story for this moment in the movie. But anyway, she and Shawn then shove their mouths together and it looks like that's the first time that's ever happened in all of human history. But Jason interrupts them and it's a chase down into the subway.

They get on a train. So much graffiti! What a dystopian nightmare! Is this the future the liberals want???!!! Jason is there though. There is no escaping Jason.

The train stops and Jason chases them down the tunnel. Shawn tackles Jason very bravely, and boy does that work out well for him because Jason totally fries up from touching that rail so hard. Shawn is fine though even though he was also rolling around and touching rails.

Troubled Girl and Shawn get up to the surface and are momentarily blinded by the dazzling lights of The Borough Of Manhattan, America's Most Exciting Borough, but then Jason, just fine as always, shows up. He chases them into a diner, makes some trouble there, and then chases them into a dead end alley. There is one way out though… through a manhole and down into the sewers!

They actually run into a sewer worker down there. Much of Manhattan has been inhabited only by gangs in this movie, so this is a pleasant surprise. He tells them that the sewer is about to have its regularly scheduled nightly flood of toxic waste so it's a good idea to not be in the sewers pretty soon.

But Jason catches up with them and kills the sewer worker by taking his wrench and clubbing him with it in a way that is cool shadows and blood spatter on the sewer wall.

Jason comes after Troubled Girl, but she spots a vat of toxic liquid and douses Jason with it! It messes him up! They are able to climb up a thing but all it gets them is a few feet above Jason’s head. But he can't follow because he's been toxic'd and that is making him gravely flummoxed. We hear the abstract sound of a drowning boy crying for help as a flood of toxic liquid rushes through, but just below where Troubled Girl and Shawn are clinging. It drowns Jason and when it goes away he is a little drowned boy. Shortly thereafter, they are strolling along Times Square and that dog finds them. It is the last thing that happens in the eight Friday the 13th movies that were released between 1980 and 1989.

So this movie was not campier or wittier than any of the others, and it didn't really try to be. It very much changed the setting, even though most of it was on that ship. It wasn't good. You should not watch it. I would advise against it. But if you do, may I please review your notes?

[haku112]

Character Bio: Sekhen Niles (Warframe Operator)

https://hawker-the-gary.tumblr.com/image/610896697224249344 (My operators apperance drawn by @hawker-the-gary​ (again, THANK YOU! :) ) Name: Sekhen Niles

Age (physically): 22 years old.

Description: Sekhen is a long (173 cm) tanned skinned boy with black, wild hair that sweeps to one side, brilliant golden eyes, small mechanical implants on his cheeks, forehead and chin and beep blue veins that stretches over his neck, throat and the sides of his cheeks and spreads down over his shoulders and upper parts of his chest. On his head he wears a blue and red Yakini diadem that stretches from behind his head and ends above his ears in a Ceasar laurel wreath style as well as having earings that wrap around the outside of the ear. He wears a Manduka transference suit with a black small scarf and a protective helmet that usually is stung back behind him over his back, he has black sleeves with red near the rim of the sleeve, the shoulders and other parts untill the waist are a sandy color with a line near the middle and bottom half of the shirt being black and the most middle part is a light blue color with a small decorative piece over the chest being black with two red gemstones. He wears the Vent Pobber pants which is mostly black with blue stripes at the legs with the sand color for his shoes with red soles. BEFORE THE ZARIMAN INCIDENT The Orokin had observed that Sekhen has qlways been a more reserved child, quiet, cold, aloof and distant, watching the other children play from a distance, not involving himself with them, more content digilently, patiently learning and mastering things that kindle his curiousity, things like swordplay, calligraphy, playing the Shawzin, playing Komi and Reading, especially things like battle strategies fascinated his young mind and he very quickly absorbed knowlege like a sponge, especially about history which wowed and stunned his teachers. DURING THE INCIDENT When he learned that he and a few other Children was sent on a ship out into space he was not that interested at first but then after thinking about it, this was a chance to maybe get new knowlege and expand his horizon, agreeing to join the ship. Seeing how the adults started to slowly but shurely become twisted by the energy of void, leaving their minds broken as they in time began tearing eachother apart in feral frenzy, leaving the children scared and helpless, Sekhen did not know what to do, no great strategy how he would escape would enter his mind Before a piercing shriek entered his mind as one adult started attacking one of the children who had accidently strayed to close, looking for her mother among the corpses. Without a second thought he rushed in while grabbing a broken pipe and started to fend away the feral adult, bashing their head in with an echoing, metallic ring. When a shaky, scared breath whispered “thank you” to Sekhen, he knew what he had to do. He quickly rounded up the small group of children that was with him and guided them to an easily defendable cargo hold where they would hole up untill they were safe. When rescue finally had arrived and the Principal investigator Kaleen arrived after what felt like an eternity on the ship Sekhen had started to open up to the others, trying to comfort his peers however he could, making him learn compassion and companionship, something he had lacked Before the incident had happened, when Kaleen was scarred by the power of one of the frightened children he had tried his best to help her to no avail as she was permanently and horribly disfigured. AFTER THE INCIDENT After the incident Sekhen suffered greatly at the hands of the Orokin who know feared him and the rest of his peers as the void had changed them and given them strange new Powers, witnessing horrid experiments on them before the one known as Margulis saved them and found a way to harness and Control their Powers using tranference into the surrogate bodies known as warframes. Sekhen was grateful to her, seeing her as a mother and loved her as did all the childred for she had cared for them like her own, adopting them.

Personality snippet He is a quite friendly, open and curious boy who is also very patient and calm. He rather plan ahead in detail rather than rush in headfirst and recklessly or thin out the enemies lines first before taking out the main target. He has a nack for strategy and always tries to think three or four steps ahead of his enemies following the Naramon school of knowing your enemy to quickly and efficiently take them down. He can sometimes be a bit of a perfectionist though  and come off as a bit overcatious and annoying. Though he has nothing against other people he mostly fight solo, out of old habit, when he is in a team he always tries his best to be a good supporter, picking off enemies and leaving them vunrable using his warframes abilities to best turn the tide of the battle in their favour even he can be a Little overcautious asking if any help is needed or giving off tidbits of advice. He prefers to use his Vectis sniper rifle from a distance, though he is not afraid of getting his hands dirty up and Close if he has too using his kopesh blade cutting his enemies down in a flurry of quick slashes. He has intense love for Music playing the Shawzin and practicing whenever he has free time as well as playing Komi both alone and with other people, tenno and otherwise that he meets under his travels. The incident and recent cruelty he has witnessed during his travels have made him very empathic and compassionate to the pain of others and the people of Fortuna (The Solaris) especially. This is one of the reason he has bonded with Inaros, hearing the story of his as a saviour of the people of Mars. He has also grown a great distaste or even hatred for the corpus, both for making sickening proxies of the “ dead” husks of warframes (the Zanuka) as well as exploiting and enslaving the people of solaris making his dispatching of them on a mission very thorough and with cold, calculated efficiancy.

Fun Facts He has a pet Kubrow named Jasiri which looks like a spotted hyena clad in sand color, blue and red Amphatz Armor that Sekhen just adores and pets, she means the world to him and Always gets a bit anxious when he takes her with him on missions. Jasiri herself is a very friendly and cuddly doggo, though very proud as well as fiercely loyal and vicious in battle, Always eager to show off how powerful she is mainly so Sekhen don´t have to worry about her. He also have his own pet MOA he calls “Buzz” (After Buzz Lightyear, cuz well...i love the Toy Story Movies) and becuse it makes a buzzing, almost chirping sound. Curious and brave it inspects and analyses Everything new it sees and is quite a bundle of energy. Sekhen also quite enjoys collecting gem & minerals, some of which he has displayed in a small shelf in his orbiter. He is also a fan of fishing as he finds it quite relaxing. @keyenuta @hawker-the-gary​ Well, ehm here is my Operators Bio >/////////////////////////////< hope you like it...was not shure on what personality traits to give him and hope that nothing i wrote broke lore or something….or just sounds embarassing >___<” *nervous* ehm, anywho enjoy