#The Invincible Sage in the Second World.

[windblume-wishes]

Game of Thorns - A Twisted Wonderland Story

Every rose has its thorns, and with every stab one will bleed bright crimson from that thorns very touch. Riddle is no different, he is a rose with many thorns, but who's not to say even the rose himself will be stabbed brutally with his own protective thorns.

Prologue

Every rose has its thorns, my mother is my thorns and I her rose. Her very thorns that once protected me also wounded me so fatally that I crumbled like a rose left to rot in the sun of a scorching desert. I crumbled like autumn leaves beneath my shoes on a cold autumn afternoon, my heart shattered like fine china as it hits a dining room floor. I was broken, but not forever anyway. Deep within me was a small untouched sliver of glimmering hope, a flame that never extinguished.

Her thorns, ever her sharp thorns, stabbed me every time I wanted to be me, to be free. I was forever imprisoned in her thorn cage. Her cold, thorn prison. Do roses not rise above their thorns and bask beautifully in the sunlight? If they do, then why not me? Why must I be the one to be forever entangled in her prison of thorns?

The answer is simple, because I am her son, her only son. The very child she nearly lost seventeen years ago. I was born early due to a near fatal complication in her pregnancy. Arriving into the world two months early, I almost died then but I kept fighting as she wept, begging the heavens to spare my young, fragile life. My mother never let me forget that difficult time in both of our lives, using it as a tool to keep her thorns around me in a tight, suffocating grip.

"I almost lost you once, I refuse to let you slip away from me even for a second, do you understand Riddle?!"

In the years after my birth, as time ticked on and I grew older her grip released only a little when my eighth birthday arrived. I was allowed a small ounce of freedom. Mother would slip out of the house for precisely one hour to run errands, leaving me alone to study. I met Trey and Che'nya, I was forever thankful that fate brought them to by windowsill. It felt almost like a dream, like in the fairytales where boys would fly from their windowsills and off to adventure and play. Being with them made me cherish my free time, I got to finally be in a world of my own...

That is, until the day she discovered my grand escape...

She screamed at me, she screamed at Trey and his sweet parents, they did not deserve her anger. They were and always would be good people, as she screamed, I wailed loudly, begging her to cease her anger but to no avail. She scolded me harshly by telling me that boys do not cry and that boys who shed tears are to be considered weak and as pathetic as a dung beetle who scurries around hauling filth.

Tell me, mother, if I, a boy, am crying is a sign of me being weak, am I truly such a disgrace to the Rosehearts name? Tell me...

Mother monitored everything, controlled everything and forced me to obey every command as if I were a dog. If she was a queen, then I would be a mere servant. Her laws were absolute, there was no escape, I would never be able to see a world of my own, not now, not ever. Or so I thought, when I turned 15 my letter to Night Raven College arrived in the mail, I was to attend the esteemed college, I was to finally be free. It took so much persuasion and constant presentations to help support my case, after much consideration she allowed me to go. Mother even gifted me a cellphone, I cherish that device as it is my only line to Trey and Che'nya when I am within my prison of a home.

Life away from mother was pleasant, I could finally be within a world of my own, I could be who I wanted to be. I could go to bed late if I so wished, well, within reason, but I had my freedom. Her thorns were far, far away in the Queendom of Roses while I thrived happily on Sage Isle. I felt invincible, I felt free, but was I truly free? Could her thorns capture me as I lived happily within the school?

I was frightened, sometimes I would even cry myself to sleep, not even the sound of my music box could send me to a peaceful slumber. Not even hugging my beloved bunny, Alice, could calm me down. For I knew my days of freedom were numbered, this world on my own, this Neverland we call Night Raven College would be taken from me...

All it takes is one mistake, one fatal mistake for one's world to crumble like sandstone in a fist. To burn away like firewood on a winters night, to fly away like it's ashes as a gust of wind passes by.

Her thorn-like grasp is awaiting my mistake, it is only a matter of time...

———

Hello my dear travelers, I'm so excited to finally put this story out here for you all! This has been an idea of mine for such a long time, I originally wrote this in a leather journal and now I'm finally sharing it with you all!

"Game of Thorns" will be a massive project alongside my other project for Genshin Impact, "A Tale of Two Brothers", if you have not yet read that story, please do check it out at your leisure!

Thank you so much for reading!

- Windblume

[candispice]

First night of Hanukkah: One candle or eight?

Daniel Pinner

How many candles do we light on the first night of Hanukkah?

The Talmud (Shabbat 21b) records the different opinions of Beit Shammai (the Academy of Shammai) and Beit Hillel (the Academy of Hillel): “Beit Shammai says that on the first day we light eight [candles], and from then on decrease by one each day; Beit Hillel says that on the first day we light one [candle], and from then on increase by one each day”.

The difference is not merely technical. Rather, it is indicative of two different world-views. Shammai typically emphasises the future potential, and Hillel typically emphasises the presently-existing actual.

Hence on Hanukkah, according to the Academy of Shammai the number of candles we light on each night indicates the number of days still to come (the potential, the future yet to come); according to the Academy of Hillel, the number of candles indicates which night of Hanukkah this is (the actual, what exists in the present).

This follows the explanation of the Amora (Talmudic sage of the post-Mishnaic period) Rabbi Yossi bar Avin [1], cited in the Talmud, (ibid).

Another Amora, Rabbi Yossi bar Zavida [2], offered an alternative explanation for Hillel and Shammai’s difference of opinion:

According to him, Shammai saw the Hanukkah candles as paralleling the bulls which were sacrificed on Sukkot, which diminished from thirteen bulls on the first day of Sukkot, to twelve on the second day, and so on down to seven bulls on the seventh and final day of Sukkot (Numbers 29:12-34).

Hillel, by contrast, applied the principle that “we increase sanctity, and we do not decrease it”.

The principle that “we increase sanctity, and we do not decrease it” occurs throughout the Talmud to adjudicate such diverse halakhot as determining the place where the show-bread was offered (Shekalim 6:4 and Menachot 11:7), the tasks that certain rabbis could perform (Berachot 28a and Yoma 20b), how many verses each man called up to the Torah on a weekday should read (Megillah 21b), under what circumstances a Kohen who has been disqualified can be restored to his office (Horayot 12b), recycling the parchment of Tefillin to make a Mezuzah or vice versa (Soferim 14:20), and dozens of other instances.

Shammai, by contrast, saw a parallel between Sukkot and Hanukkah

Rabbi Yossi bar Zavida’s explanation of Shammai’s ruling compels the question: What is the connexion between Sukkot and Hanukkah?

The seventy bulls sacrificed during Sukkot (13 on the first day, 12 on the second, and so on down to 7 on the final day) correspond to the seventy nations of the world. (This idea occurs in countless Midrashim; see for example Bamidbar Rabbah 21:24, Eichah Rabbah 1:23, Shir ha-Shirim Rabbah 1 [15]:2, Midrash Shocher Tov to Psalms 109, and Yalkut Shimoni, Psalms 868.)

We would sacrifice 70 bulls during Sukkot to atone for the sins of all 70 nations, hence Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi’s aphorism that “had the nations of the world known how beneficial the Holy Temple was for them, they would have built fortresses around it to defend it, for it was even more beneficial for them than it was for Israel” (Bamidbar Rabbah 1:3 and Tanhuma, Bamidbar 3).

And Hanukkah is the Festival that celebrates our victory over the Seleucid Empire which defiled our Holy Temple, which for decades used its seemingly invincible military might to prevent us from bringing any sacrifices. As a result of the Hanukkah victory, the sacrifices in the Holy Temple were restored, and those 70 bulls, atoning for the 70 nations, could once again be sacrificed.

As Sukkot teaches our potential to elevate the entire world – not only Israel – in sanctity, so Hanukkah is the Festival that celebrates the restoration of that potential. So Shammai, who focuses on the potential, derives the laws of Hanukkah from the laws of Sukkot.

Hillel, by contrast, focuses on the actual. The Holy Temple is the very epitome of sanctity, the actualisation of sanctity in this physical, temporal world. So Hillel derives the laws of Hanukkah from the principle that “we increase sanctity, and we do not decrease it” – hence according to him we increase from one candle on the first night to two candles on the second night, and so forth.

In this, as in almost all disputes between Hillel and Shammai, we follow Hillel’s opinion.

The Talmud (Eiruvin 13b) records that “for three years the Academy of Shammai and the Academy of Hillel disputed, each one claiming that ‘the halakhah follows us!’. A Heavenly Voice came forth, proclaiming: Both are the words of the Living God – and the halakhah follows the Academy of Hillel”.

The Yerushalmi cites the same episode in several places (Berachot 1:4, Yevamot 1:6, Sotah 3:4, Kiddushin 1:1), but provides an additional detail: “Where did this Heavenly Voice come forth? – …In Yavneh”.

“In Yavneh” – meaning after the destruction of the Holy Temple, after the Sanhedrin relocated from the Chamber of Hewn Stone at the entrance of the Holy Temple to Yavneh.

So we follow the opinion of the Academy of Hillel in the present era, the time in which the Holy Temple is yet to be restored.

And when will Beit Shammai’s opinion constitute practical halakhah? – The Zohar (Ra’ayah Meheimnah Volume 3, Parashat Pinchas 245) explains that Hillel’s opinion is appropriate for this world, while Shammai’s opinion is reserved for the days of mashiach.

So in the days of mashiach, the time when today’s potential will become the actual, we will light eight candles on the first night of Hanukkah, seven on the second, and steadily diminish until we will light one candle on the eighth and final night.

We have always lit the Menorah according to Hillel’s ruling, lighting one candle on the first night, two on the second night, and so on. But in the future time to come, in the days of mashiach, when the third and final and eternal Holy Temple will stand, we will celebrate Hanukkah according to the ruling of the Academy of Shammai. Then we will light eight candles on the first night, seven on the second night, and so on.

And so on Sunday afternoon, as I prepare my Hanukkah Menorah for the first night of Hanukkah while the sun is still shining, I will fill eight vials of olive oil ready for lighting. Because I don’t know what might happen between preparing the Menorah and sunset, and I want to be ready for anything that may happen. And maybe, just maybe, before sunset…

[marvelslegacies]

NAME    ⎯⎯    Biron Bostaligni

MEANING    ⎯⎯    Biron - “at the byres or barn” (Old English) / Bostaligni - NO KNOWN MEANING (I changed the spelling of my bestie's last name slightly and used the product of that for this last name)

aka    ⎯⎯    Just called "B" by some.

‘Gargoyle' Biron’s apt alias/code name because in his stone form he looks much like a Gargoyle that would sit utop a very old building.

one photo of your muse you like  ⎯⎯

three headcanons    ⎯⎯

Biron's parents raised him by the saying, "wrong is right". They were career criminals with substance abuse problems as well as sticky fingers and lying tongues. They'd steal, cheat, lie, and manipulate anyone to get what they wanted. As a result, Biron didn't understand why he was always being punished for doing what he perceived as normal actions. Biron had to learn, through harsh socialization, that he can't take what's not his, that his lies will catch up with him, and that no one wants to play with someone who cheats.

Biron cannot be killed easily. His stone physiology makes him nearly invincible and even in his human form, his skin seems to be denser than normal.

Biron's only confidant and ally was his brother Alec. After Alec passed, Biron was given special permission to attend his funeral. This requires lots of paperwork and a court hearing in order for a judge to grant him temporary release from a federal prison.

three things your muse likes doing in their free time    ⎯⎯

Biron loves philosophy and psychology and has read many books that are commonly passed around by prison inmates. He has extensive knowledge of Nietzsche, Socrates, and Freud. His favorite novel is The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka.

Biron is avid about exercise, especially weight lifting. While in prison, he did countless push ups and to this day it is still his favorite exorcise.

Biron loves to play cards and to gamble. He believes he is truly gifted in it. In prison, he would play and gamble using cigarettes. He was known to always have a cig tucked behind his ear. Before he was released from prison, he had 472 cigarettes to secretly disperse back to other inmates.

a phobia your muse has    ⎯⎯

Biron is afraid of very little. Nothing seems to scare him, or make him jump. His greatest fear is losing the small connection he has left to his almost-sister-in-law and his niece. His second greatest fear would be losing his team mates, Noah, Jarome, and Cass.

one thing your muse regrets    ⎯⎯

Biron regrets trying to kill himself. It was all for naught.

people your character likes  /  loves    ⎯⎯

Saffron - Biron's brother had a girlfriend before he passed, and now, despite their being no blood relation, Biron is desperately clinging to contact with Saffron and her daughter, his niece.

Sage - The daughter of Saffron and Biron's brother Alec, Biron's niece. The most precious thing in the world to Biron is Sage.

tagged by: n/a

tagging: n/a

[zelskzerker]

Mangadex went down so I read alot 1/7

Lets review a bunch of isekai and related stuff I binged because mangadex went down. The scale will be a single thumbs up to a single thumbs down in terms of how much I would consider recommending it in general.

Legend

Chapters 1-51 Pretty straight forward in most aspects. For the best. Nothing crazy bad or good happening, making it surprisingly straight forward for an isekai. [Insert isekai startup here] but this time the MC is given a super magic body and the knowledge of ancient magic. Which he promptly uses to create a griffon buddy. Gets a THUMB IN THE UPPER CORNER for just being a nice, believable stay in a world, but I have read some stuff that really has interesting sparks the way this doesnt. MC is brutal at times and General Princess is cute. They make a good pair for each other.  Although there are no ecchi situations, that artist really knows how to slide in the lewds, whether its mid combat flourishes or pre chapter artwork.

The Black Create Summoner: Revolt of Reincarnated

All Chapters

Truly is revolting. A resounding THUMBS DOWN.  Apparently this was just an advertisement manga, which means that its intentionally incomplete and unsatisfying. Ontop of that, the sketchy artwork was generally rough and got worse to look at the more it went on. [Insert isekai startup here] but this time he has a grimoire that lets him summon stuff he draws. The power isn’t used that much though or in that creative of ways. Characters didn’t really leave an impact except maybe the elf little sister that is stubborn yet knows she is incompotent and recruits a dragon out of stubbornness. 

Minotaur’s Sweetheart

Chapters 1-16

So what if a minotaur accidentally seduced the adventurer that was assigned to kill him? This is a good romance manga deserving a THUMBS UP because the pure-hearted minotaur boy and the unmarriageable adventurer girl actually develop a relationship and progress as people. The manga is ultimately about monsters and humans interacting and is fresh due to having a plot that evolves the situation a lot beyond the initial setup of the manga.

Moon-led Journey Across Another World

Chapters 1-64

[Insert isekai startup here] but this time the god of the new world calls the MC ugly and banishes him to the edge of the world to die off. In order to help out the MC, the god of our world (Tsukuyomi) gives him a bit of power. The MC is funny to watch once you realize that he is an incredibly cautious pureboy and expecting every common street thug to potentially end him but in reality he is a god-rivaling cataclysm himself and never realizes. He is so powerful that he recruits the blue haired mist dragon, Tomoe, and accidentally turns her into a weeaboo. Tomoe can read minds and access pocket space with her mist ontop of her sick weeaboo katana skills. She really shines as the most mature person in the story, gaining information that no one else in the story has and carefully withholding it from the MC in order to protect his innocence. She is a DAMN good tomboyish waifu and sarashii is a blessing. Other main girl is yandere spider, Mio, which has shockingly good and well conveyed bouts of emotion. She has an extremely rare “can’t cook at all” joke that is explained due to her “eat literally anything” nature. In terms of plot, the MC hates the god of the world he is in and pretty much plans to do everything she doesn’t want him to. Which means mingling with humans, and eventually, god slaying/usurption. Odd think about this manga is that it’s heavily Japanese-inspired. That may sound odd because its a manga, but generally isekai are most medieval/western skinned than this one which leans in on Japanese mythos. Just look at the god of our world in the manga.

THUMBS UP.

The Unsuccessful yet Academically Unparalleled Sage ~A Cheating S-Rank Sorcerer's Post-Rebirth Adventurer Log~

Chapter 1-10 So lets set up this genre here. This is a part of the “reincarnation” genre, which is a spinoff of isekai. They generally depict a very capable mage who reincarnates themselves into the future of their own world. At which point they realize that although they were pretty strong in their day, they are now practically a god in the deteriorated modern day. This genre will hereby be indicated by [Insert reincarnation startup here]. For this manga in specific, [Insert isekai startup here] but this time the MC could only use lightning magic and was the best at it but failed the gene gacha then [Insert reincarnation startup here] and he fails gene gacha again but is still the walking thunder god. These kinds of manga are always precious when the MC can walk through the world and see the fruits of their past labor. Specifically through Merlin, the MC’s adopted demon daughter who has grown up to be his heritor and bridge human/demon relationships. Truly adorable and heart warming. Lacks a bit of spice from themeing or ongoing plot due to its short length however. THUMB IN THE UPPER CORNER.

Older Elite Knight is cute only in front of me

Chapters 1-17.1

THUMBS UP. This is an oneshota manga where shota is a chad with incredibly good tastes. A really good ecchi manga with a light hearted story featuring Haru(the shota) knight that joins Karen’s(the oneesan) knight crew. As with all good romance manga, the main plot isn’t romance. Knight shenanigins are always happening, with a big (and lewd) bad entering recently. Top tier variation on the lewds, even including a princess loli in on the fun. Must read for all oneshota fans.

Lonely Attack on A Different World

Chapter 1-91

[Insert isekai startup forma de classroom here] but this time the MC gets leftover garbage skills and has to learn to survive. Learning to survive thus makes him the most op and he can magic trick his way out of literally anything. Strong start as the whole classroom first tries to get their footing, but after the starting arc is done this manga starts spinning it’s wheels. The manga is kinda lacking in themes, overarching plot and end goals, so stuff just happens to make this a sort of slice of life trap room escape manga. Magic “just works” in this universe so its not very dramatic when the MC pulls out a new trick out of his bag of million tricks. Just kinda stagnates too much for my liking. THUMB IN THE BOTTOM CORNER.

The Unwanted Undead Adventurer

Chapters 1-34

Rentt Faina, the MC, is a good guy with no talent who aspires to be a legendary adventurer. But then he gets turned into a skeleton, giving the chance to evolve his way to greatness, kinda like in Spider isekai or Dragon isekai. The MC is most like Goblin Slayer in his serious and knowledgeable approach to the world, how characters that know him revere him. End goal so far is just him seeing how far he can evolve as he comes across other vampires and vampire hunters. Really want to see him go to the top. Fuckin great art. Girls drawn perfect. Like the hat on the guild girl, but nothing beats the witch Lorraine. THUMBS UP.

Teihen Ryoushu No Kanchigai Eiyuutan

Chapters 1-13

THUMB IN UPPER CORNER. Pretty funny comedy about a lord of a poor land who wants to be a stereotypical evil lord but can only use healing magic. Therefore he bumbles his way into accepting a heretical cult nun, beast men who hate humans, etc. All the girls are to crazy for him to want to sex them(weak. give the assassin nun your babies). Most interesting parts are aforementioned nun, his fujoshi assistant, and the MC’s willingness to use his power to commit heretical and immoral warcrimes. 

The Undead Lord of the Palace of Darkness

Chapters 1-11

Art average, don’t come to this one for spectacle. It’s strength is in the subertfuge that it’s recently-necromanced-back-to-life MC goes through to get his Master killed and to later, probably, evolve into a vampire. MC isn’t evil though, just wants to survive. Main girl on cover was born and raised to hunt vampires but has a compassionate heart. Obviously she goes easy on and relates to MC. Story is still kinda in it’s first arc so the overall trajectory of the story is a bit hard to gauge and not quite satisfying enough by its own right. Probably a thumb up with more chapters but for now THUMB IN THE UPPER CORNER.

The Reincarnated Inferior Magic Swordsman

Chapters 1-38

[Insert isekai startup here] but this time.... uh... THUMB SIDEWAYS. Usually I am patient, but 31 chapters with no goal and just barely plot? Wow. Saving grace is uh... I guess the world of “other isekai people existed but they sucked because they didn’t level uncap like MC” could go somewhere but. I take it back, lowering this one to a THUMB DOWN.

The Invincible Sage in the Second World.

Chapters 1-12

[Insert isekai startup here] but this time a pro mmo player in a game called “Broken Balance Online.” Guess what his class, the sage class, was considered in the game? Not far along enough to really pop off but it isn’t horrible. MC is moderately cautious to a healthy degree which is actually rare in most isekai. THUMB IN BOTTOM LEFT CORNER. 

The Dark Queen and I Strike Back

Chapters 1-29.5

Although technically an isekai, no isekai startup here. This a battle manga with a big mystery on the backdrop of a war. That is to say, the MC gets teleported to a world to kill the demons but he ends up defending them from the humans with all he’s got. Of special note is the complete seriousness of this manga that whiplashes into debauchery like tentacles, the above cover, oneshota, and even really dark jokes in some of the omake. That tonal lash effect will be either make or break, and it is a HUGE make for me. I love when a single piece can have both absolute serious scenes and utterly lighthearted and fluffy ones. Or in this case utterly lewd ones. May the average-human-amount-of-perverted MC one day slam some demon lord loli. THUMBS UP.

Chillin' in Another World with Level 2 Super Cheat Powers

Chapters 1-24

THUMB SIDEWAYS. Has the feeling of a nerfed slime isekai. Nerfed in all ways except romance. Art surprisingly good.

[ninja-go-to-therapy]

Getting Attached

Summary: Wukong does everything in his power to ensure that he doesn't get attached to his successor. It doesn't work.

Trigger Warnings: death, violence, blood

1517 words

Don’t get attached.

He’d been telling himself not to since the very beginning. He was immortal, and the kid was just a human. A human worthy of being his successor, yes, but a human nonetheless. He would die one day, and Wukong knew that getting attached would only make it a thousand times more painful.

If he held the kid at an arm’s length, when the inevitable happened, he would just be able to move on. He’d find himself a new successor, someone else who could wield the staff.

As long as he didn’t get attached.

The kid made it so awfully hard not to. He was so full of life, excitement constantly buzzing under his skin. He asked questions, he did his best to learn. Even if he lacked confidence and focus, he was still a perfect successor.

A good successor. Not perfect, not anything all that special. He was just a normal kid that Wukong had absolutely no business caring about. He wasn’t fond of MK at all. 

He wouldn’t let himself be.

Don’t get attached.

MK’s lack of focus would be the death of him if Wukong didn’t set him straight.

Not that that would be that bad — no, yes it would — but he wouldn’t be that upset if something were to happen. He couldn’t be. It was inevitable. He knew it would happen eventually.

He didn’t care that much about his kid — fuck, the kid. The. Not his. MK had enough father figures already, he didn’t need another one in the form of him. It would be better for both of them, in the end.

Don’t get attached.

He was honestly legitimately offended when he realized that MK had been running around with some other mentor. He tried to tell himself that it was insulting, and not just downright hurtful.

But above that was the concern he couldn’t help but feel.

MK wasn’t acting like himself. He was all… dark, and too quiet. So unlike himself. It was all wrong, and Wukong intended to get to the bottom of it.

Purely so he could have his student back, of course.

Don’t get attached.

Seeing the kid pinned to the mountainside, looking absolutely terrified out of his mind had nothing to do with caring about him and everything to do with the fact that it was Macaque of all people who had him pinned there.

The relief in MK’s voice when he showed up was irrelevant, he was focusing on his mortal enemy right now. Not on his the kid.

He would have won if suddenly it wasn’t Macaque he was going to hit, but MK. He faltered, unable to make himself hurt the kid, and he was immediately beaten back and pinned to the ground by Macaque’s shadow clones.

He was so stupid, he shouldn’t have fallen for that. It was a cheap trick, and he knew MK was still where he had previously been. Pinned to the mountain, struggling to the best of his ability.

And then Macaque summoned the smoke monster, and — he was going after MK. He was going to kill him.

The fury and the panic that rose inside him weren’t important, he just — he had to stop him. He had to save his kid.

And as MK managed to land that final blow, and Wukong threw himself around him, protecting him from the explosion, only one thought was going through his head.

Fuck. He’d let himself get attached.

After the months of tug of war with himself on this matter, he should have seen it coming. He should have known that the second he let his guard down would be when it would happen.

It had been so sudden, too.

It was a hard enough battle that Wukong had needed to get involved, yes, but he’d been sure that it would be a piece of cake from there. MK was doing so well, too. He’d been learning so fast.

One moment the kid was doing great, dodging and hitting and doing everything perfectly.

The next, the tip of a blade was sticking out of his chest.

The sword jolted MK’s entire body, and he went still after that, gasping so loudly that it was the only thing Wukong could hear.

The world froze.

MK didn’t even scream. He was barely moving, his breathing beginning to pick up as his mind caught up with him, and Wukong was already running.

The sword was ripped out of his body, and MK fell to his knees. The blade, Wukong realized in a distant sort of horror, had been the only thing holding him up. And that made it that much worse. 

The first thing he had to do was take out the bad guys. That was easy, he could — he could do that. He just had to be fast.

He knocked them all unconscious — or maybe they were dead, but he didn’t particularly care at this point — before rushing to MK’s side, placing his hands over the gaping wound. There was so much blood.

MK gasped again, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Hey, hey, deep breaths,” Wukong said, even as his own heart raced and bile rose in his throat. He swallowed it down.

“It hurts so bad,” MK whimpered.

“You’re gonna be okay, bud,” he promised.

“I—” he began to choke, and blood dribbled from his lips. “I’m not—”

“Yes you are, dammit!”

He couldn’t lose his kid. Not here, not now. Not so soon. Not so young. Not like this. He’d always known it would happen, but he’d imagined it so much less bloody. So much less painful. He’d thought they would have more time.

MK choked on a sob. “I’m going to die.”

“I won’t let you.”

“You may be the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven,” MK said, breathing shallow, “But I’m not sure there’s a lot you can do about this.”

“Bud, the entire Court of Heaven loves me. I’m not letting this happen.”

“They hate you.” A statement. A fact. Hopeless.

“They… tolerate me.”

“I’m going to die, dad.”

Wukong’s world halted violently. MK had just called him… that. On what was essentially his deathbed, in his very last moments, he’d called him dad.

He’d wanted this for a long time, but not like this.

He’d imagined it would be like in those fanfictions the kid didn’t know Wukong knew he wrote, where MK slipped up, forgot, maybe was too tired to think about it. Where Wukong’s brain would short-circuit, and he wouldn’t be expecting it, and it would be weird, but nice. Where MK would be embarrassed at his mistake, but Wukong would be delighted.

MK wasn’t embarrassed, and Wukong wasn’t delighted.

His child, his child, was choking on blood, a brutal stab wound going right through his body. Wukong had known it was a bad idea to take away MK’s invulnerability, but only now did he fully realize what a stupid choice it had been.

He could have just trained the kid properly from the get-go, let him stay invincible, keep him safe from shit like this.

But no, because of him, here they were. With MK dying, and nobody but him here to help.

He wouldn’t even get to say goodbye to the other people that cared about him.

“You should—” choke “You should see if Mei can hold this thing,” he said, not even bothering to gesture towards the staff. “She’d—” spitting up blood, too much blood “make a good successor.”

Wukong had once thought, if he’d been able to keep himself from getting attached, that he’d be able to do something like that. That he’d be able to just pass along the staff to the next person who was worthy, choose a new successor, and move on.

The thought made him ill, now.

“Thanks for giving me a chance, even if I was really lousy,” MK said, before breaking into a coughing fit.

“You were not — are not lousy. You make a perfect successor,” Wukong insisted.

“You’re just a good teacher. You’ll find someone else, someone who can actually—” choking choking choking stop choking on your own blood “get shit done. Defeat some demons for real.”

Wukong wanted to scream.

“I’m sorry for failing,” MK whimpered, his breathing finally beginning to slow.

No, no no no, he would fight all of heaven to keep this from happening. This wasn’t real, it couldn’t be. 

“You didn’t fail,” he said, frantic. “I’m the one who failed, I should have done better, I should have protected you, I’m so sorry—”

“It’s okay,” MK wheezed, voice too soft. “You’ll find someone better.”

The kid’s body went still before Wukong could say anything against his false statement. There was nobody better than him, he wouldn’t ever find someone like that. MK was the only one perfect for the job.

Wukong didn’t have the strength to pull his hands away from the fatal wound.

The Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, quite literally had the blood of a child on his hands.

He never should have let himself get attached.

[dessarious]

Misconceptions, Miscommunication, and Misinformation Pt58

Inspired by @ozmav Maribat AU

AO3   Beginning   Previous   Next

“So what you’re saying is that Batman and his team have done more in two months than you managed it two years.” Discorde was about five seconds from Cataclysming Superman, relations with other heroes be damned. She only held back because Ladybug had a hand on her arm. Robin didn’t seem any happier and it brought him up in her estimation.

“That is wildly presumptuous and inaccurate.” Oracle’s voice came through the comm and both she and Red Robin were scowling at the others from a screen on the wall. “We only managed what we did because of the incredibly detailed and accurate information Ladybug gave us. There’s no telling how long it would have taken us starting from scratch the way she did. Not to mention she is one hundred percent responsible for the plan that gave us Mayura.”

“Convenient.” Superman still sounded doubtful but seemed willing to drop that part of things, for now. “Regardless, there’s still the matter of actually apprehending him and what we do with the object that gave him his powers in the first place.” The hand around Discorde’s arm tightened and she looked over to see an incredibly pissed off Ladybug.

“That is none of your concern.” Ladybug’s tone held an impressive amount of authority and disdain. She’d been around Damian a lot lately and it showed. “We are here as a courtesy but I will not allow you to interfere.” Multiple members of the League glared at her from their seats.

“She’s right.” The voice belonged to a rather subdued Wonder Woman. After the rundown Ladybug had given her of the previous meeting Discorde had expected her to be of the same mind as Superman. “The Miraculous are not our domain, nor should they be. While I’m not thrilled that such a burden was placed on children it is not our place to question a Guardian who has dedicated their life to protecting the Miraculous and maintaining balance.” There was complete silence after she spoke, no one seemed to know how to react. Batman recovered first.

“I agree. There’s a reason most of us didn’t even know the Miraculous existed until now. From what Wonder Woman has told me the Order that protects them is very good at keeping them contained.” Discorde felt Ladybug stiffen slightly, but otherwise she didn’t react to the words at all.

“They failed once. Sure this time it’s contained in Paris, but what happens the next time? We can’t take that risk.” Ladybug had apparently had enough of Superman’s self righteous attitude.

“It is not your decision to make.” Her tone was hard and frigid, it sent a chill up Discorde’s spine and she was thanking every Kwami she knew that it wasn’t directed at her. “Even ignoring the Order for the moment, the Miraculous exist to maintain balance. Having all of them in the hands of a group dedicated to their form of justice will wreak havoc on that balance. Villains and dissenters will start popping out of the woodwork at rates you won’t be able to handle. You’ll just be making everything worse for the people you claim to protect. The cost is far too high whether you believe it or not.”

Discorde watched the heroes' reactions, trying to decide which were threats and which were allies. Batman and his team were firmly entrenched on their side, at least for now. Wonder Woman seemed content to let things take their course and at least not interfere. Superman looked like he was ready to go to war with them along with a couple others so that’s where she kept her focus. When Marinette had suggested she be here Plagg had given her some tips and suggestions to keep them in line if necessary and she wasn’t going to hesitate if any of them came at Ladybug.

“So these powers are better protected in the hands of children? If this Order is so competent why didn’t they send their own people in to do the job?” Okay, that was a good question that she’d have to file away for later.

“You have no idea how the Miraculous or the Order work and I’m not about to enlighten you and put others at risk. You believe in very strict definitions of good and evil. I doubt you’d be willing to listen to let alone understand even if I did explain.” Batman’s lips twitched upward and Discorde thought he was trying not to smile. The rest of his team didn’t seem to feel the need to restrain themselves and were snickering in the background. Red Hood even gave Ladybug a thumbs up. Wonder Woman looked amused and… proud? One more thing to try and unpack later.

“You do not decide what is and is not pertinent information for us to know. We will ask questions and you will answer them to the best of your ability.” Superman’s tone said he didn't expect her to know much and Discorde felt the growl in her chest before she heard it. How dare this pompous, self important, alien…

“It would be wise for you to stop.” Discorde glared at Wonder Woman as she spoke, expecting to be the object of her censure, but she was focused on Superman. “Ladybug is perfectly correct in her assessment and the Justice League as no standing to interfere in the first place. What’s more, threatening her will do nothing but give her black cat a reason to show you just how ineffectual your powers are against the powers of gods.” Her tone was dry but firm. Some of the heroes were now looking at the two Miraculous holders like they were bombs ready to go off while others seemed to doubt Wonder Woman’s claim. Discorde almost hoped one of them would try something at this point. She knew exactly how much stress Ladybug was under and this wasn’t helping in the slightest.

“What’s she going to do, purr at me?” Something inside her snapped. She felt for the destruction inside her as Plagg had taught and pulled it to the surface. She was vaguely aware of Batman and his team moving away from the man of steel and heard Wonder Woman’s resigned sigh. The rest didn’t seem to know how to react. They would soon.

The table and chairs dissolved as though eaten by acid causing everyone to scramble away. After that she concentrated directly on Superman. He still seemed to think he was invincible but she knew better. Plagg and Tikki had created the universe and while Superman was immune to the dangers of Earth, he wasn’t immune to the dangers of his home planet, or the Kwami. She focused the ball of darkness inside her into the shape she wanted before letting it shoot straight at Superman. Just as Plagg predicted, he didn’t even try to move.

“Is that all you have?” His cockiness brought a feral grin to her lips. She waited. “This is a waste of time. I want to talk to whoever thought it was a good idea to entrust-” He broke off in a coughing fit that was so violent he ended up hovering over the floor. When he stopped and looked at his hand everyone in the room could see blood. “What did you do?” Discorde glared back at him.

“I infected you with Krypton’s version of the bubonic plague and Ladybug is the only one who can cure you so I suggest you appropriate a new attitude.”

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[prolestariwrites]

The Wish [1]

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Dante, Vergil, Nero, V, Lady, Eva, Sparda, OC  Rating: General  Tags: Family, Humor, Fluff, Angst, Typical demon hunting violence

Summary: A demon gives Dante the chance to have his greatest desires made real. When he finds himself in a seemingly idyllic life, all seems well until it starts to unravel. Will he sacrifice himself to save the family he lost, or will he choose to give them up for the truth?

A/N: Hooray for a new story! This story takes place sometime between DMC4 and DMC5. Thank you to @solynacea for reading and lending her OC for this fic. If you’re read Promise Me Forever you might recognize Lir, but she is completely different in this fic, so I hope you like it! I’ll be publishing about every week since I’m mostly finished. Your comments are always appreciated, and you can check this out on AO3 and FFNet too!

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Chapter 1: Be Careful What You Wish For

“Nero!” Dante’s voice echoes down the hallway as he peers through the rush of demons, swinging Rebellion as best as he is able as he scans for him. “You good?”

“Need help already?” The kid sounds nearby, but down a ways, and Dante snorts at the smart-aleck response. He bites back a response, remembering what it was like to be nineteen and feel invincible, to have power and stamina and enjoy the rush of killing demons.

It’s different now that he is older, the moves as familiar as breathing, the enemies mundane as paint drying. Meeting Nero and getting to know the kid, training him, especially with his suspicions all but confirmed, has breathed new life into the legendary devil hunter: but it’s still just a regular Friday night, clearing out another warehouse that houses another cell of demons for another client that’s just going to bitch about the holes left in the walls.

Dante continues pushing forward, slicing off arms and heads as he goes. There has to be a queen mother up ahead; no way this many slipped through a portal, these babies were bred. Maybe getting to the big bad will be interesting, and then he and Nero can stop before going into Fortuna to get a drink or six. Maybe he’ll even let Dante crash on the couch, now that he and Kyrie have set up in a house in town and have the room.

The drone of Red Queen suddenly cuts off, the lack of white noise catching his attention. “Nero?” he calls again, but this time instead of a snarky comment two shots ring out in response, followed by the entire building shaking as a roar goes up from inside. “Nero!” Dante shouts, slicing as he doubles his speed, actually trying now so he can find the kid and find out why the hell he needed his gun in such close quarters. Either he forgot one of Dante’s rules for demon hunting (“don’t shoot a gun in a tight space, dumbass”) or he’s in trouble.

Turns out it’s trouble—well, sort of. They are on the third floor, having been going methodically through each level to clear it out, and when Dante skids to a stop in the central part where the elevators are, he finds them gone. Instead, there is a huge hole where the elevators used to be, the concrete and iron in a heap below them where it had collapsed.

He looks up to see Nero on the other side of the giant hole, wiping his brow with his forearm. “You okay, kid?” Dante calls over.

“Yeah,” Nero shouts with a bit of a laugh. “I got them corralled but I guess the weight was too much. Just managed to jump out of the way.”

Dante shakes his head. “Stay there and I’ll come get you.”

“Nah, I got this. There’s gotta be a set of fire stairs at the end.” Nero points Red Queen towards the dark hallway behind him. “Let’s make sure that was the last of them. I’ll meet you at the bottom.”

“Yeah.” Dante sighs as he watches Nero go, and then looks around at where the floor and elevators had broken from the supports and given way. No way the weight made this happen; you could probably park a semi in here and it would hold. The building is structurally sound, supposed to be anyway, and it would take more than a few dozen demons to knock a hole in it. No, something made the floor collapse, and his gaze goes upwards, wondering where the queen bee could be hiding.

Dante doubles back and finds his staircase, taking the steps two at a time upwards. The hallways are eerily empty after the deluge in the bottom floors, and he stalks carefully through, checking each office. The damn place has a thousand places to hide, so there is no telling where the big bad could be.

On the top floor, lucky number seven, he hits the jackpot. The second he steps out from the stairwell Ebony and Ivory are drawn as he picks his way through the nest that covers the walls and floor and even ceiling. The emergency lights give a weird glow to everything, but his demon eyes can see clearly in the dim light as he listens carefully for movement.

He finds the demon in the corner office, thinking it has good taste and laughing at his own joke. At first he doesn’t see the queen, but a shift in the air catches his eye and he fires both guns into the dark, smiling at the sound of bullets making their impact.

With a wail it emerges from the shadow, clutching its chest. “What did you do that for?” the demon yells.

“Eviction notice, numbnuts,” he says. “Time to head back to wherever the fuck you came from.”

“I can’t,” the demon argues. “I have my eggs to hatch, my babies to look after—”

“Babies?” Dante chuckles, scratching his head as he places his other hand on his hip. “Sorry, I think I killed all of ‘em.”

The demon snarls. But instead of threatening him, Dante is surprised when it asks, “What do you want?”

“What?” he blinks.

“What do you want? To leave me alone?”

Dante huffs. “Don’t work like that, sweetheart.”

The demon moves closer and he aims his guns again. It starts to unfold itself from its spot, and Dante’s eyebrows go up to see it’s probably almost seventeen feet tall, completely squished into the office. “My name is Veguaniel,” it says. “I am the demon of fortune.”

“Good for you.”

“How much do you want?” the demon asks. “How much are you being paid to kill me? I can double it. Triple it even.”

“Are you serious?” he groans. “I don’t do this for the money.”

The demon looks him up and down. “That’s obvious.”

“Watch it.” He points the guns at its head, and the demon shrinks back a bit.

“I want to pay you! I can make you rich beyond your wildest dreams! You’d never have to slaughter the innocents like me again!” Dante snorts as it tilts its head. “You can’t possibly like doing this.”

He cocks the hammer on each gun. “Not about liking it. About paying the bills.”

The demon gives an annoyed huff. “This is what I’m saying. I can make you rich. I can buy you whatever you want. There’s got to be something you’d rather be doing than this. Would you like a mansion? A yacht? How about a palace?”

Dante chuckles to himself, but admits it’s almost tempting. Suppose this demon has some fortune granting power? He tries to think of himself as some fancy millionaire and fails. To be honest, all he would really want is a nice house and a nicer bike. Maybe work on engines, build things? Meet a pretty girl with a sharp wit and killer smile and settle down, like Nero and Kyrie have.

“This is stupid,” he says. “Not gonna happen.”

“So why do you do it?” it asks. “There must be something a god of fortune can give you for one tiny, little favor.”

Dante growls under his breath, his patience out. “I’m a devil hunter because I’ve been hunted by demons my whole life,” he snaps. “Ever since you fuckers came down on my house when I was a kid, killed my family, and then made my life miserable. Getting paid is just a bonus.”

“Hmmm.” A tentacle slithers out and taps on the demon’s cheek, as if it is thinking. “Did that make you sad?”

“What?”

“Did losing your family and all that make you sad?”

“What the hell? Of course it did!” Dante snaps. “But I don’t see why—”

“So you wouldn’t be a demon hunter if they hadn’t died, is that it?” The demon’s voice trails off, and Dante frowns. “I can grant you a fortune that has nothing to do with money. Would you like your family back?”

He grits his teeth, anger starting to bubble. “Shut the hell up.”

The demon bares its teeth in a grotesque smile. “Done.”

The floor gives way, and Dante shouts as he falls, firing upwards. He gets a glance of the demon waving to him just moments before he lands headfirst on the concrete and the world goes black.

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The squeak of the shower turning on wakes him. Dante opens his eyes and immediately regrets it, pain piercing his temples like an ice pick to the brain. “Damn it,” he sighs, reaching up to rub his forehead.

The ceiling is white, not the faded yellow of his place, so he figures he must be at Nero’s. Damn, did the kid have to find him and save his ass? He’ll never live this down, and as he stretches his stiff limbs he sighs and closes his eyes again.

He remembers the warehouse and the demons, and Nero getting separated. Then he had found the head at the top of the building and it had… asked him about his family? Dante frowns, pressing the heel of his hand against his eyes. Demons are getting fucking weirder by the day.

He enjoys the few minutes of quiet until the shower turns off. Dante sighs, moving to roll over and sit up. Either Nero or Kyrie are in there, so he figures he’ll go downstairs and give them privacy, but when he sits up he notices two things. First, he’s in just his boxers, which is weird because that means Nero undressed him. Also, he doesn’t own boxers, preferring to let his junk ride free, knowing the ladies liked how it looked in tight denim.

Second, their bedroom is way different than it was. He’s been there a few times but he helped Nero paint the house and their bedroom was definitely green. Dante remembers this because Nero had bitched about the color to him because he couldn’t to Kyrie. But the bedroom is now a soft shade of blue, and he wonders if the kid finally confessed that the color sage reminded him of puke.

The door to the bathroom opens and a woman walks out wrapped in a towel. He blinks when it’s immediately obvious it is not Kyrie: this one is shorter, slimmer, her platinum hair almost white like his and falling in a trendy bob style at her shoulders. The woman takes no notice of him, moving to a set of drawers and opening the top one.

“Uh, excuse me?” Dante says.

The woman looks over her shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Who are you?” he asks.

She rolls her eyes. “Har har, very funny.” She goes back to pulling out clothes and says, “I know I said I’d never work on a Saturday, but Jenny’s kid is sick and I didn’t have the heart to make her come in. But I promise it’s only a half shift, and I’ll be home by two.”

That doesn’t answer his question at all, but before he can point that out she drops the towel. Dante spins quickly, his heart pounding as he yanks the sheet up over his lap, hissing, “What are you doing?”

“I told you, I’m covering for Jenny. It’ll be easy enough for a Saturday. It’s a nice day out, nobody goes to the library when it’s sunny.” Dante peeks over to see her thankfully wearing a bra and panties, which he stares at for a moment before remembering he shouldn’t be staring. He looks down at his own lack of clothes and frowns, wondering if it’s her house he slept in. Does that mean they had sex? Maybe he and Nero made it to the bar after all and he got lucky?

Not bad, he thinks as he looks back to where she is shimmying on a pair of jeans. She’s cute enough at least, gorgeous even, although he wishes he could remember her name. “Hey, uh—”

“Don’t forget to be ready by five,” she says, rolling on deodorant. Then she glances over at him and frowns. “You okay?”

“No. Yes. Sorry, five?”

Dante frowns and she laughs. “Yes. Reservations are at five-thirty and you know if we’re a minute late your brother will start complaining.”

That gets his attention, and Dante feels the blood drain from his face. “My… brother?”

“Yes. It’s your parents’ anniversary. Remember?” Dressed now, she runs a brush through her hair as she sighs. “Please tell me you didn’t forget. This has been planned for weeks.”

Dante jumps up and stalks towards her, pulling the brush from her hand and grabbing her elbow to turn her. She only comes up to about his shoulders, and his expression goes menacing as he glares down at her surprised one. “What do you know about my parents?”

“Dante, what in the world? What is wrong with you?” The concern in her voice tempers him a bit, and she pulls her arm away to press a palm to his cheek. She examines his eyes closely as she asks, “Are you feeling okay? Did you hit your head or something? You look strange.”

“I…” I fell, he wants to say, but she brushes his jaw gently. “Why don’t you take it easy today? You’ll have the whole house to yourself. Get some coffee and just relax, and when I get home we’ll see how you feel, okay?”

Did losing your family and all that make you sad? Where did that come from? “What about my parents?” he asks again harshly.

She takes a steady breath. “It’s the thirteenth. Their fiftieth wedding anniversary. We’re all going out to dinner to celebrate.” Then she rubs his arm gently, and it’s then that he notices the band on her ring finger. His eyes go wide, and startled, he looks at his own left hand, where a matching gold band sits on his fourth finger.

His blood is pounding in his ears so loudly he barely hears her goodbye. “Just stay home and relax,” she says, and when she reaches up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek it pulls Dante back to the present.

He watches her walk through the room and grab her purse just as she reaches the door. Then he is left blinking as the door shuts, the sound of his raging heartbeat still thundering in his ears.

[give-me-back-my-rhodey]

Let’s Burn the World Down - AUgust Day 6

Title: Let’s Burn the World Down

Author: Purple_ducky00

Rating: Teen

Relationship: Clint Barton/Tony Stark, Background relationships: Bucky/Natasha, Steve/Sam

Link: Read on AO3

Summary: Tony falls in love with the guy he keeps meeting in the ER. Too bad the guy already has a girlfriend... or does he?

+++++++++++

For a billionaire, Tony has to go to the hospital very often. Whether it’s a lab accident, a car accident, an assassination attempt, and/or anything else, Tony finds himself in the ER at least once a month. His insurance is higher than his standards, which isn’t saying much, Tony surmises, because he’s halfway in love with the guy he sees almost every time he goes.

 They’ve seen each other so frequently that they’ve started nodding to each other and saying, “What are you in for?” like they do in the movies at the police station.

 Although he’s being truthful, Tony knows that most of his incidents sound very made up. “Oh, they sent someone to assassinate me, but I managed to flirt my way out of it with only a stab wound.” “My lab exploded.” “My robot dropped a steel sheet on my foot.” “I tripped on something and fell off my porch to the porch below.” But he is even more disbelieving of this man’s injuries.

The guy says stuff like “I shot myself with a boomerang arrow.” “I was skydiving with my dog and my parachute got caught on a tree branch, and an eagle attacked me.” “I think that pizza I ate was too old.” “My old circus buddy tried to kill me. He failed.” “I fell out of the vents, and the bad guys beat me up.”

 Today Tony comes in because he had to jump through a window to avoid Sunset Bain. He now has glass sticking out of his side, and he’s sitting calmly until a doctor can see him. The man limps in, bloody and skin mangled on his leg. The others in the ER gasp as he signs in and takes a seat beside Tony. “Hey man, what you in for?” He asks.

 “Jumped out a window to avoid my ex.”

 “Mood.” The man nods sagely. “I just battled a cougar and won. Before you ask, yes it was the cat kind, although I don’t doubt that a middle-aged woman couldn’t do this if she was rejected.” He gestures to his leg. Tony barks out a laugh.

 “Oh, they could. Trust me. By the way, I never got your name. Or did you want to stay anonymous?” Tony asks.

 The man shakes his head. “We’d go great no matter how we do it. Name’s Clint.”

 “I’m Tony.”

“Yea, I know.” When Tony looks at him, surprised, Clint pats his shoulder placatingly. “You’ve got these people fooled with your greasy shirts and hats, but I never forget a face. Don’t worry, I won’t rat you out. But why do you come to this crappy ER all the time? Aren’t you supposed to go to the ones that are made for rich people?”

 Tony shrugs. Truthfully, the first couple time he came, it was because he had happened to be in the neighborhood when disaster struck. He had struck up conversation with Clint, and he decided that if he were able to talk with him, Tony would keep coming to this ER. “I don’t know. I’m in the area a lot, I guess.”

 Tony gets that he has problems. He knows that he quickly falls in love with anyone who will show him kindness or even just the time of day because he didn’t get enough love and attention from his parents as a child. He goes to therapy, and he does make an effort to figure out which people are being nice only because they want something, which people are just simply being nice, and which people are flirting. It’s still hard sometimes, like now. He doesn’t think Clint wants something because 1.) he just said that he won’t rat Tony out and 2.) he could have taken Tony’s wallet very easily many times. But is Clint just a nice dude, or does he like Tony?

 A nurse gets Tony just as another comes for Clint. Tony lies on his side for far too long as they pull glass from his body. When he’s cleared to go, the doctor tells him, “You have to be more careful, Mr. Stark. You’re not invincible, and I’d hate to see anything happen to you.”

 “Thanks Doc. I’ll do my best.” He shakes the man’s hand.

 On his way out, he sees Clint talking to a beautiful redhead. She is reaming him out in Russian, calling him and idiot and a few other unsanitary words. Clint tries to console her, but she grabs his hand and pushes him into her car. She speeds off, still shouting in Russian. Tony’s heart drops. He has no chance with Clint now. No one would give up a woman like her for him unless they wanted something.

 The next time Tony gets hurt, he goes to the ER near his home. He is in and out shortly, but Tony feels incomplete. He misses the easy camaraderie with Clint. I can still joke with him as friends, right? There’s no harm in that. He reasons, but he chickens out the next time, when he accidentally burns his arm with his blowtorch, and then when he gets shot. This keeps happening until it has been at least three months since he last saw Clint.

 Tony gets drunk in a bar | in Brooklyn. Very, very drunk. The thing about being a Stark – you can hold your liquor very well, and even when you are so drunk most people black out, you can still walk and talk albeit hindered a little. Well, Tony is that drunk, and this is when he tends to overshare. He’s telling the bartender, a beefy man with long brown hair, about Clint. “So, there’s this guy, you know. Only time I see him is when I go to the ER. He’s really cute, he’s got like tons of biceps, and he’s funny. We used to see each other all the time, and I think I love him. But one time, I saw him, and he had a girlfriend. Super, smoking hot redhead – like I don’t even stand a chance. So, I’ve been avoiding him. It’s dumb because he doesn’t know I like him, and I keep convincing myself that I can still talk to him as friends and such, but then my brain just tells me he has a girlfriend, and I end up going to an ER near my house. You know?”

 “Not really.” The bartender grins. “But I’m not an ER regular.”

“That’s too bad. It’s fun there sometimes.” Tony pats his hand somberly. “Sometimes we freak people out with our injuries. But we’re calm. It happens so much that we’re just like ‘meh’.  The doctor told me to be careful because I wasn’t invincible, and I was like ‘ok, I’ll tell my enemies to stop trying to kill me. I hope it works.’”

 The bartender throws back his hand and laughs. Tony drains his glass of Scotch and asks for another. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” The bartender asks. What was his name? Barney? Barn?

 “Barnes!” Yells someone from the other end of the bar. “I need a mimosa stat!”

 “Shut your whore mouth Wilson!” Barnes yells back. “I’m not serving you anything after what you and Steve put me though last night!” He turns back to Tony. “The dude’s dating my step-brother, and our walls aren’t soundproofed. I hate them so much.”

 “I could soundproof your walls for you.” Tony offers. He’s not sure why he offered, but he did. It’s not like he hasn’t done it before.

 “Thanks for the offer, but Nat and I will get them back at some point. Maybe we’ll do it on the couch.” Barnes grins. “Someone else can make Sam’s mimosa. Wanda’s working that end of the bar anyways.” He gives Tony one more Scotch and says, “This is your last one. I’m going to have to cut you off because I don’t want you to die.”

 Tony quietly sips on his drink while Barnes makes other drinks. Once done, he stuffs a few hundreds in the tip jar and turns to leave when a scarlet-haired woman sits on the stool beside him. Tony blinks at her for a second, thinking that she looks familiar. Barnes’ face lights up, and he comes over to her. “Hey, come here often?” He asks, fake seductively.

 “Don’t be an idiot,” She tells him and pulls his face in for a kiss. Tony realizes why he thinks she looks familiar. She’s Clint’s girlfriend!

He spins on his stool to face them. “You bitch!” He yells at her, then clamps a hand over his mouth as Barnes growls a warning. “I am so sorry. I don’t know your situation. You could have broken up with him, or hey, you’re a threesome, or an open relationship. I’m sorry. I was just caught up… and I’ll just go.”

 Tony stumbles off the stool and heads out of the bar. Mind swirling with liquor and shame, he doesn’t notice he’s in the street or the ugly purple car headed towards him until it’s too late. Frozen, he stares down the lights until the car smacks into him.

 Lying on the ground, the last thing he remembers is a person jumping out and yelling, “What are you doing, you idiot? Tony?”

 Tony wakes up in a strange place. He feels like he should be in the hospital, but he’s not. Looking around, he sees a lot of… purple. “Ugh, no one should have this much purple anything,”

 “I take offense to that.” A voice says. Wait… that’s Clint. Tony wildly tries to sit up, and Clint comes into his line of vision. “Hey, hey lie back down! I don’t think anything’s broken, but you should probably just let your body rest for a while.”

 “What happened?”

 “I hit you with my car because you were standing in the middle of the street. Why were you standing in the middle of the street?” Clint looks worried.

 Tony tries to wave him off. “You know, just for the thrill.”

 “Tony, most things I do are just for the thrill, and I know it’s idiotic to stand in the middle of the street.”

 “Yeah well, the thing I did before it was idiotic, too, so I’m pretty good at that.” Tony sighs. He doesn’t really want to get into it because Clint will probably make him leave. Tony’s good at leaving. Everyone makes him leave after they learn his true self. Ah, well, what does he have to lose but the love of his life?

 “So, last time we were both at the ER, I saw the woman who picked you up. I guess I just figured you were dating the way you both interacted with each other,” Tony explains. “Well, at the bar last night, she came in and made out with the bartender. I called her a bitch because my first thought was that she was cheating on you. Then I remembered that it had been three months, and I didn’t really know anything about you – you might have broken up, or were poly, or open relationship. Point is, I’m an idiot who speaks before he thinks then faces the consequences, even if they’re not direct.” He is very confused when Clint starts to laugh. “What’s so funny?”

 “I can’t believe you called Natasha a bitch and still live to tell the story.” Clint says between gasps. “That’s fuckin hilarious. I am sorry that I hit you with my car.”

 Tony is thoroughly confused, and Clint takes pity on him. “Natasha is dating Bucky, the bartender. She’s my best friend and confidante. She gets angry when I do stupid things, but I still do them. We are not dating, never have, and never will. Hopefully, that clears things up.”

 “A little.” Tony just feels disoriented. This is not something he has ever had to deal with before.  

 There’s a knock at the door. This “Natasha” pokes her head in. “Hey Clint, is he ok?”

 “Yea, come in. Tony meet Natasha Romanoff. Natasha, this is Tony Stark.” Clint gestures to the both of them.

 Natasha smirks. “Hi Tony.”

 “Hi,” He says weakly. “I’m sorry for calling you a bitch. I sometimes talk before I think, and I’m sorry.”

 “Just don’t do it again. Are you guys hungry? Bucky’s making blini.”

 Clint nods. “Tell him I love him. We’ll take two plates. You like blini, right?” He directs the question at Tony.

 “I think so. I’ve only had them once or twice,” Tony says. When Natasha leaves, he tells Clint, “You don’t have to stay with me. I’ll be fine.”

 “Well this is my room, so I want to stay here. By the way, how have you been? I haven’t seen you in a while. I was starting to think you took my fancy ER comment seriously.”

 Tony grimaces. “Well, it’s a long story. But I did end up going to the ER near my house a couple times. It’s hard to get no injuries in the stuff I do.”

 “Well, I don’t blame you for going to the uber fancy ERs, you know, because there’s better service or whatever. But if you do, can we hang out somewhere other than the ER, then? I kind of missed you, man.” Clint looks at Tony earnestly.

 “The main reason I stopped going to our ER is that I saw you with Natasha and thought, ‘how could I ever compete?’ I would tell myself to just go. I could talk to you as a friend, and not me crushing on you, but I always psyched myself out when I got hurt, and I just went to the ER by my house.”

 “You’re crushing on me? Wow. I did not know that. I crushed on you the first day I saw you, and I thought you were just being nice. I’m a dumpster fire on my best days.”

 Tony shoots him a wicked grin. “Then let’s burn down the world together.” 

[fragilevixenfic]

A House is Not a Home

Summary:

The mere thought of raising a newborn in a world full of horrors has every part of Scully’s emotional irrationality over firing on a chilly, winter evening. Mulder wants nothing more than to show her that not everything is gray and grim.

“Hope transforms pessimism into optimism. Hope is invincible.” – Daisaku Ikeda

For Teresa, I hope that this is everything that you were imagining.

The situations mentioned in this fic (ripped from the headlines) are real ones and altered ones to assist in the story. No mention of the real-life situation was meant to injure, harm, or otherwise trigger the reader. The shooting was real; the others were either from prior events (altered to fit the story) or didn’t happen during this date range. Also, took a few personal liberties with Jackson. He is unexplored and underdeveloped, at best.

You can’t go back and change the beginning,

But you can start where you are and change the ending.

-C.S. Lewis

Saturday, January 5th 2019

6:00 PM

The Unremarkable House

227700 Wallace Rd, Farrs Corner, VA

               The haze of pea soup fog preceded the battle between rain and snow as the small, muted sage house became swallowed by the thicket until visibility reduced to mere feet beyond the reaches of the steps. A glow of twinkling strung and wound up lights along the edge of the outside band and the header marked the well-concealed home like a lighthouse along a quiet shore. It was quiet aside from the tinkering of raindrops in mud puddles, down the gutters, and along the siding of the house, along with the whistling of faint wind through the trees with every gust. The front window, fogged-up with an outer layer of condensation, concealed the remnants of Christmas from a reluctant set of parents, who had been clinging to that moment of reminiscence from matching lights in the tree just feet from a fireplace. There was homey, inviting warmth even with the occasional battle cry from the infant that now lay nestled within the bassinet, her little tuft of gingery curls visible beneath the lilac cap, suckling at the air even in sleep.

               Scully’s fingers still twitched along the edge of the rail, gently rocking the cradle as she leaned against the armrest to watch her, the lack of sleep evident under her eyes. “How long are you going to let me relax this time, little one?”

               “Think I have enough time to start making us some dinner?” Mulder’s voice was a welcomed distraction, as were his lips to her temple as the back of her head found the soft material of a pillow. “No one wrote this in the parenting manual.”

               “Mmmm…please tell me we’re having those stuffed shells covered with cheese tonight because I’m already drooling just thinking about them.” Scully smirked, nodding as she felt the pop of her vertebrae moving back into place, aligning carefully as she looked up at him. “Ran ragged, send a nanny. I don’t remember it being this exhausting with her brother and I don’t remember him unpredictably crying at random moments of the day.”

               “So, what you’re saying is the diet isn’t coming back for a while?” Mulder massaged the back of her neck, admiring the beautiful baby in the bassinet as she stretched her little hands and feet as far as they would go before settling back down. “Well, I’d say that most people don’t pause eighteen years to have number two, either, Scully…and she’s been a unique little peach since she was big enough to do somersaults in the womb.”

               “I’m enjoying the carbs and I’m getting plenty of vitamins from the side salads that go along with straying from the diet I had been observing,” Scully bit down on her lip and gazed at the sweet, cherubic cheeked babe in the rapt of slumber. “As long as it doesn’t inhibit Lily’s growth and progress, then we’re doing something right.”

               Lily. The miracle that made so many others along the way seem so small. The second chance at something right. Scully glanced at the sleeping babe and felt the pang of longing to have spent more time with her firstborn to watch the intricacies of his infancy. So many milestones had been missed in such a short period of time and they only set off the catastrophe that followed—years of wondering if he was loved as much as she had hoped he was. Lily wasn’t simply another baby or a replacement for Jackson; she was the missing puzzle piece in a graying world full of darkened corners and dead ends. Scully knew that their sweet, little Lily had brought so much more than light into this world as her eyes diverted to the side-by-side pair of bronzed baby booties. Mulder saw her wipe an errant tear and leaned in to steal a kiss, tasting that salt that had been left behind before she could clear away memory.

               “I’ll make some garlic bread and put on some water for that decaf tea that you’ve become a little obsessed with—the kind with the mint in it,” Mulder wasn’t used to this much emotional turbulence but he was handling it like a champ as he placed a sweet kiss on the apple of her cheek before straightening his spine. “Maybe we should watch a movie tonight?”

               “Yeah, that might be nice if she manages to sleep through even thirty minutes of it,” Scully waited until he was halfway into the kitchen before reaching for the remote, flipping channels until a newscast caught her attention.

               “…We brought you breaking news overnight of a multiple fatality shooting in Pittsylvania County, Virginia and have obtained more details about the shooter and his victims. We have learned that the identity of the shooter was Jason Owen Davis and it has been confirmed that he fired multiple shots within the home that he shared with his wife and twelve-year-old son. Authorities have informed us that Davis shot his wife and twelve-year-old son before killing himself. Two women were also hospitalized after sustaining injuries from gunshots they had received while driving past the home of Davis…The investigation is ongoing…”

               The red, blue, and white flashing lights in the dead of night from the footage in front of a small home atop its foundation with a short drive tugged at Scully’s heartstrings. The sleepy, little town was only a few hours south but a shooting involving murder and suicide wasn't something that happened often. At least, it didn’t use to happen often. Scully swallowed hard as she listened to the newscaster recall the previous night’s events, a lump forming as she thought of a child’s life being extinguished before they could even blow the candles out on their thirteenth birthday cake. Her eyes darted to Lily as the tears nipped at her waterline, biting at every open nerve as the unthinkable played out in a single breath; losing another baby before they even had a chance to take their first steps.

              The circumstances were different but the inflicted pain felt so real as she changed the channel and palmed her mouth to cover the sob, hoping to quell an onslaught as the flickering screen wracked at her subconscious.

               What do I do if everything I am isn’t enough to keep you safe in this world?

               Scully knew that she was playing with fire as she pulled the bassinet closer, just enough to caress the rounded, little cheeks that belonged to their miracle. Lily stirred and let out a brief whimper as she traced the line of her chin and coaxed the waiting tears from her unusually sensitive Mother’s eyes. Scully pulled her hand back and watched the delicate traces of baby feet underneath of loose swaddling as they kicked up and down before settling back against the linen coverlet, the sigh audible as she drifted deeper into sleep. Scully feverishly wiped her tears and leaned back, resting her back against the couch cushions as the ticker at the bottom of the screen on CNN announced another terrorist attack in the city of Paris followed by a rising death toll from a bombing in Pakistan from the week earlier. It was enough to make her stomach churn and the bile rise. The world had become an unfolding nightmare full of waiting, blooming shadows ready to enfold the light.

               “Should I make the tea now while the oven does most of the work?” Mulder’s voice, like her beacon through a haze, struck a chord as he came around the corner and found her with shimmering streaks still fresh along first blush. “Scully, what happened?”

               “What world are we raising Lily in, Mulder?” Scully muted the television, imploring him as the floodgates opened and the upheaval worked its way to the surface, her voice just barely above normalcy. “Death and destruction around every corner, chaos in countless countries including our own, and the constant threat of some whack job rigging themselves up all in the name of religion to take the lives of those who don’t fit their normative of acceptable. I don't remember looking at life for our son with this much sadness in it."

               “I don’t know that the world has necessarily changed, Scully,” Mulder was keenly aware of the fluidity of her hormones and sentimentality as he took the remote from her and set it aside, knowing that she’d only begun to tap the surface of a vortex of upheaval. “We’re not out there like we used to be—with our guns readied to take aim and go running after monsters without a second thought for health or regard of our health.”

               Scully's head tilted; the notion of his comment filled with questionable truths as she felt her own aches and pains giving her a not-so-gentle reminder of their existence without even doing a tally of his. Some of the injuries weren't exactly old, either, she knew, but the passing of time had lessened the frequency of a new mark or blemish. Admitting that Mulder was right held a little bit of astonishment and disinclination for Scully as she felt that eyebrow lift upon her like a parental judgment. He was a little pleased with himself as he heard the gentle sigh leave her lips despite the undeniable urge to fix her pain.

               Yin and yang; their relationship personified as opposition met harmony, molding together in such a way that one was incomplete without the other.

               “Why does it feel like decay, misery, and melancholy are waiting around every corner?” Scully was visibly uncomfortable as she pointed toward the television, nearly going hoarse as she felt her blood pressure spike, aiming her energy toward chaos as Mulder’s shoulders slumped. “I can’t turn on the TV without seeing something awful happening as close as two or three hours away. If it isn’t a stabbing, it’s a shooting…if it isn’t a shooting…it’s a bombing. Lily will never see anything but the constant chipping away of humanity and crumbling of sanity.”

               “Lily will be surrounded by two parents that love her and a brother that, with some time, will protect her from anything and everything,” Mulder was studying the expanse of freckles on her face as she met his gaze, coaxing a soft, needed smile that slowly faded as he continued. “I know it seems like the word of the decade is grim but there's a lot more to the world that is worth exploring—from the smallest blade of grass to the tallest trees. Nature, the lifting up of communities in the wake of a disaster, and the little gestures in between like carrying a rainbow flag down a crowded street. I don't think I had a chance to take a look at what was underneath the surface until I felt like there wasn't any hope left."

               “You make it sound so easy and idyllic, Mulder,” Scully stared at the floor, at the fibers of the area rug until they were blurring together in a sea of worn, little waves of blues and grays while the strings of her heart played a note she hadn’t felt since writing a letter addressed to her son. “What happens to Lily if we’re no longer here to raise her—to protect her? Who will be here to make sure she is safe?”

               “Jesus, Scully,” Mulder swallowed hard at the mere implication of a piece of them being swathed in their love as she leaped through each milestone had him choking back the tears. “I know we’re getting up there in age but I really didn’t want to jump straight to the morbid talk before she even turns one.”

               "I don't want to imagine a world where I don't get to see those little fingers and toes become more grown-up or those insanely hazel eyes develop depth when she's angry," Scully didn't want to wake Lily but the trepidation was quickly morphing into something more frenzied as she covered her mouth, muffling the sob. "I don't remember being this reactionary with Jackson and all I want to do is call my mom…but I can’t.”

               Mulder wanted to be angry but the sadness he felt for Scully was undeniable as his knees went weak and his eyes fell on the shimmering tears from the corners of her eyes. Lashing out wouldn’t have done much good because the truth of it was that he missed his Mother-in-law nearly as much as Scully did. The hole that Maggie Scully had left in their lives was a shock to the system that neither of them were entirely prepared for and Mulder had spent so much time trying to repair the damage done over losing her. She was a source of great strength and levity for both of them during a time of unbearable darkness to a point that he wondered if she was the only one that knew, deep down, that they weren’t beyond repair. She always held out hope and proved to be that steadfast link that brought them back together as her spark slowly went dark. Sometimes, he wondered if that same glimmer of warmth hovered around Lily’s angelic face to admire what she always knew could come to pass.

               He had hoped that she looked down on their girl and saw their love, personified, down to the tendrils of red curls that came from her mother and the flecks of green and chestnut that came from her father.

               “I wouldn’t say that our support system has gotten smaller, Scully,” Mulder scooted alongside her, squeezing her fingers as her eyes stayed locked on the circular pattern on the floor. “It has simply changed over the years—and adjusted to the people we’ve become along the way. Your brother may not like me but he’s in our lives more now than he was years ago and because of that galvanized bond, we have your sister-in-law and your nephew. We still have a lot of people in our lives that were always there for us that are now here for her. I have to think it means something that we have that for Lily.”

               Scully wanted to feel the words sink in and mean something but there was a struggle buried underneath as she rested her head against the back of the couch, exhaling slowly as she stared at the beam across the ceiling. Her heart thudded against her chest wall as that groundless dread bloomed into a waking nightmare that stayed trapped within her psyche. Scully’s eyes met Mulder’s and her fingers coiled around his as she let the tears fall, searing a trail down her cheeks as she let his warmth melt with hers, palm to palm. Having Mulder in her life all over again meant more than a second chance at love and a life with him…he had become the steadied ground beneath her feet while everything else seemed so shaky.

               “I know, deep in my gut, that you’re right but my heart is just swimming with so many uncertain factors that could pop out to surprise us from the wings. I don’t know what I would do if I had to do this alone,” Scully sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and held it between her teeth as she grappled with the upheaval of affectation, wiping her tears with her free hand. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about what would happen to you if I weren’t here and you had to raise Lily alone.”

               “Scully, there will always be a worry that one of us or both of us could be taken away from Lily before she’s old enough to be on her own,” Mulder pulled her fingers from her face and held both hands between his own, caressing the space below her wrists as he flashed a soft, caring smile. “However, let me be the one that postulates about death for a while. I’m good at it and my hormonal fluctuations aren’t going to be the ones to affect the overall quality of breast milk.”

               “I know you’re thinking it, Mulder, because I’m thinking it,” Scully felt the tears drying on her skin, leaving behind a residue of salt that made her face feel tight and uncomfortable as she sighed. “I passed the Edinburgh Postnatal Depression Scale with flying colors and made Doctor Jacobi and Doctor Layton laugh when I asked if they’d read the results correctly. I was never this relentlessly emotional with Jackson and I don’t remember waking up in the middle of the night to cry when he wasn’t right there in my arms.”

               "Scully, you didn't do that with him because you were focused on the mess that was the father of your child," Mulder leaned in and kissed the trails of tears, pressing his forehead to hers as he knelt against her shins, palms caressing her forearms. "You didn't have a chance, back then, to stop long enough to see the spiritual toll that Jackson might’ve taken on you because you were so focused on the safety of me and him. This time around I’m not letting you do it alone.”

               “I am not good at feeling untenably over-sensitive at any moment of the day,” Scully exhaled slowly and covered his hand with her own, the look of her fingers small on top of his. “I guess it’s all worth it when I see the tiny toes and fingers that belong to the second little miracle that we get to call ours.”

               “You just had a baby,” Mulder wanted to scoop her up and take her upstairs but the sleeping child would’ve done her best to shut it down before they could even pull an arm out of a sleeve. “To expect any mother to be perfect at every moment of the day is unreasonable. I can’t even tell you the number of times that I got told to watch Samantha when mine just needed a moment to go lock herself in the bathroom.”

               “I just hope that I’m not going to be like this for the entirety of breastfeeding,” Scully made a face and furrowed her brows, exhaling slowly. “It would tempt me to switch to the bottle and I really don’t want to do that. The time I have with her like this is so precious.”

               “You know what I see when I look at you, Scully?" Mulder slid backward and stood, stretching his arms toward the ceiling until his back popped that was followed up with a satisfied groan.

               “Don’t…you…dare…wake her up,” Scully snapped her fingers at him, signaling to Lily as their typically loud infant stirred in her peripheral while she scooted forward to put another throw pillow behind the small of her back. “What do you see, Mulder?”

               “I see the same woman that came into a basement level office so many years ago and managed to spin an already upside-down life even further on its heels," Mulder could smell dinner wafting through the air and it hanging at the cusp of burning as he went to check on everything. "You may have gotten older, have a different shade and length of hair, and think you’re getting haggard when you’re not…but all I see is that same person and I always will.”

               “I’m suddenly remembering exactly how you managed to make a seemingly barren woman pregnant…twice,” Scully coaxed a laugh from him as he fiddled around in the kitchen as she went toward the tree, letting her fingers run along an ornament with glitter-covered doves on it. "How's it looking in there, Gordon Ramsay?"

               “I think you were really just underestimating the power of the can you spare a prophylactic back in the day,” Mulder peeked his head out from behind the stove and wiggled his eyebrows at her as she turned to smile at him. “Estimating another ten minutes before this can be consumed.”

               “You are absolutely ridiculous,” Scully rolled her eyes while adjusting a string of lights, the synthetic material of the tree grazing her palm as the sound of drops of rain against the side window tapped with changing of the wind. “We should dip into the brownies I made the other night after dinner and find a zombie movie to distract ourselves from thinking about the real-life horror outside.”

               “Don’t act like you don’t love it,” Mulder was putting the kettle before reaching for the tin of tea, a pause in the air as he peeked his head back out from behind the stove, a look of confusion on his face. “Maybe not a zombie movie but something on the Hitchcock spectrum sounds good. Out of curiosity, though, Scully, do you have something you’d like to tell me or think you’d like to tell me?”

               “Mulder, that's…not funny," Scully's jaw dropped as she checked on Lily, tugging the little blanket back around her to keep her cozy and warm before resuming the shocked expression in Mulder's direction. "We do not need a third and we don't need two of them under one. That would put me in my grave prematurely."

               “Well, how am I supposed to know? You’re the one that suddenly wants chocolate and pasta loaded with cheese,” Mulder shrugged his shoulders and met her in the archway between the kitchen and the living room to pull her into an embrace. “You ate that through your entire second and third trimester.”

               “I love you but you’re crazy,” Scully wrapped her arms around him, caressing his back as she looked up at him, grinning. “Lily and you are more than enough infant for me.”

               “I love you, too, but you’ll appreciate the childlike persona when it comes to teaching Lily all about the important things in life,” Mulder kissed the space above her nose, between her brows, and squeezed her tightly while he listened to the bubbling of water inside of the kettle. “I’ll always keep you guessing.”

               “I don’t know if fart jokes and distance spitting sunflower hulls across the yard are considered the important things, Mulder,” Scully scrunched her nose and jabbed him in the ribs as he started to back away to check the oven again.

               The knock at the door put a stop to the discussion and nearly caused an emergency as Mulder narrowly missed pressing a hand to a hot surface. He had forgotten the oven mitts as his attention swayed in the direction of the front door, toward the soft tapping, but thankfully, Scully’s snapping fingers pulled him right back to reality. She was good at keeping him from taking a clumsy tumble into another potential disaster even if admitting it was not his forte. He had mentioned it, long ago, that she kept him honest and it part of that veracity resided in an ability to pull him from the edge of catastrophe. Neither of them had been expecting to stop by today but the brewing tension was familiar as Scully let her eyes focus on the frosted glass in the door and the tall, broad-shouldered shadow that stood on the other side.

               Scully had a longing in her eyes and Mulder had anticipation deep in his soul as he nodded, willing her to unlock the door.

               Scully pulled the door open, holding the edge against her cheek as she found him standing on the other side of the screen, hood pulled up, drenched to the skin with a couple of bags in hand. "I know…I should've called to let you know I was nearby.”

               Scully shook her head and felt the surge of tears breaking through as she saw the wisp of a smile on his lips for the first time since Lily was four days old, the undeniable yearning to express her love bleeding through. “No, you never have to give us warning…”

               “I could hear you, uh, arguing, from down the road so I waited to walk up,” Jackson pulled the screen back and crossed the threshold, the drips hitting the floor like little pieces of his soul as he felt the weight of the world drop off his shoulders. “It sounded important.”

               “We weren’t arguing,” Scully took the bags from him and set them aside, the joy colliding with an onslaught of tears as she wiped her cheeks. “It was just a discussion fueled by hormones and everything is fine.”

               “Okay, maybe I should’ve said that it felt important," Jackson pushed his hood off and pulled the zipper-free, pressing his lips together and elevating his brows in such a way that he was a spitting image of his father, leaving no question about the actuality of his genetics. “I don’t know if an apology is what I should be doing but I know that communication hasn't really been a thing for me lately. I was returning your texts for a while and just had to get out of my head for a while. I’ve been doing a lot of soul searching and had this feeling that including you will be too overwhelming with Lily.”

               Jackson’s wheels were turning; the signals weighing as he was moving his eyes between them, seeking the justification. He was seeking out answers and didn’t stop long enough to fathom that he’d been running from them for far too long. It weighed on him in an inevitable way as the radiating heat of the fire found him and restored a semblance of warmth in weary, well-traveled feet. It felt like home and there hadn’t been a place that inched close to that inclination for a long time. It was a complicated perception, though, as the calm, inviting blanket wasn’t the walls that kept out the elements but their faces, their hands, their voices…pieces of them that had been so far away for far too long.

               They weren’t the Van De Kamp’s but they meant something else—something different that he knew, in the severed part of his soul, that he needed.

               “You always know how to reach us when you’re ready,” Mulder had pulled their leftovers from the oven and set them out on the counter before coming out of the kitchen to greet him. “Relying on either of us won’t be putting any extra strain on life, either. We’ve been through a lot…you’ve been through a lot. We’ve lost a lot of time, Jackson.”

               “The last thing either of us want from you is an apology or to feel as though you need to hand one down to us,” Scully was hanging by a thread, her tears glimmering along the curves of her cheeks as she quietly wiped them, her voice small, distant. “You’ve been through so much and there was no need to hold expectations beyond being able to reach out to you, which we valued, more than you can ever know.”

               “I kind of liked the jingling in my pocket, reminding me every day that someone cared about where I was and what I was doing. Hadn’t anyone do that in a long time," Jackson had matured in a year despite that inherent, deeply rooted consternation that was still hovering over forging a relationship with his biological parents as he let Mulder take his wet, zippered hoodie to hang up. “Putting all of my woes on both of you felt really selfish at the time and it wasn’t until I was drinking disgusting coffee in a diner on Florida Avenue yesterday morning that I realized that I was being dumb. I knew I should just come here.”

               “Ah, lured into The Florida Avenue Grill, huh?” Mulder didn’t want to push the boundaries but he squeezed his son’s shoulder anyway and pushed the door shut as the draft moved through the room. “The heartburn that place inflicted on me was legendary.”

               “Yeah, well, the pancakes were, at least, pretty decent and smothered in peanut butter,” Jackson’s wit was much like Mulder’s but the softer aspect of his nature was more than a little evident as he glanced at Scully as she chewed the inside of her cheek. “Mom, you know you can just hug me instead of looking at me longingly like I’m only a figment of your imagination, right?”

               Hearing him call her mom had only happened twice since he’d come back into their lives and it was still sinking into her consciousness, leaving an irreversible mark on her heart. The sensation was almost as intense as the agony she felt the day she placed that final kiss on his temple and sent him to be with a family that could protect him better than she could. His name wasn’t the issue, anymore, but reconciling whether or not he would become the yo-yo in their life was as she felt the sting of tears along the corners of her mouth. They’d lost so much time and never gotten to see him become the man standing before them; looking every bit the collective of their genetics as the pale tones stood out against his long lashes and dark hair. He really was theirs. Overjoyed and yet, doubt was still residing in the darkest parts of her mind as she embraced her grown-up son and tipped over the remainder of her bottled sensitivities.

               “I never imagined that there’d be a day when I’d be able to put my arms around you but there was finally a day I thought there could be a chance…” Scully’s last efforts to be composed fell by the wayside as she sniffled and wept while she kept her arms around Jackson, the enormity of him being there coursing through her like an administered drug in her veins. "And I couldn’t let you go through life not knowing that the people you came from loved you…that we didn’t just throw you away.”

               “You’re going to make me cry and I’ve done a lot of that when no one was looking,” Jackson had his chin on the top of her head while Mulder was doing his best to keep composed as his eyes glassed over. “I wouldn’t be here if I believed that either of you threw me away.”

               Scully was reluctant to pull away but the whistle of the kettle had her moving to check on Lily after giving Jackson the lightest grip to his hand. “Sure, when her brother shows up, she’ll sleep through anything but when the floorboards upstairs creak in the wrong way…it’s the end of the world.”

               Mulder took the kettle off of the flame, a smile on his lips as he gathered teacups from the cupboard, his peripheral catching Jackson as he walked beyond the couch to peek at a sleeping Lily. "Speaking of Lily…we should eat before she senses that you're attempting to put food into your mouth and decides that she wants to nurse, Scully. It's been about two hours since she was fed, right?"

               “Give or take by five minutes,” Scully watched Jackson standing next to the softly lined cradle, the gentle swing of it in motion as his eyes moved back and forth, willing it to move. “Jackson, there’s more than enough for you and I’ve already been teased that it’s craving food so you know it’s going to be really good.”

               “Yeah, I’d like that,” Jackson nodded as Scully put another log on the fire, stoking the flames in the background as he ran a couple of fingers through damp hair. “Might help finally get rid of that epic heartburn?”

               “Wait, you still have the heartburn, kid?” Mulder met him in the doorway and put an arm around him, directing him toward the kitchen table where he had already put an extra plate out, ready to serve. "What you need is my special hot cocoa…that’ll get rid of the heartburn and any other aches you might have.”

               “Mulder, you are not giving our not over-twenty-one-year-old son the modified Frohike special," Scully gave him a dirty look and aimed the business end of a spoon at him as she retrieved another teacup from the shelves. “Just one of those is more than enough to render him incapable of navigating the house before the sun has set.”

               “You are a party pooper, Scully,” Mulder already had the bottle of bourbon in his hand and a grin plastered on his face as he turned toward Scully. “I would never make it the way Frohike made them—that’s a rookie mistake that you only give to an enemy.”

               "I know I shouldn't say this and you can't be mad mom, but I'm intrigued," Jackson finally perked up and chuckled, making Scully roll her eyes as she made eye contact with her son. "I mean, I've had drinks before—when I wasn't supposed to.”

               Scully met the waiting gaze of Mulder as she shook her head, scoffing at the situation as the white flag waved. “He certainly is your son.”

               “The secret to the hot cocoa is just enough bourbon to smell it but not enough to taste it,” Mulder went on the drinking lesson while Scully was in the background getting plates filled with portions of their dinner. “If it’s too strong then there’s no point to the drink at all…you might as well be drinking bourbon on the rocks.”

               “Was there ever a point to begin with, though?” Scully had that witty, Cheshire cat expression as she moved the last of the hot plates to the table and sank into her seat with a hot cup of tea steeping in front of her.

"Jackson, ignore the naysaying," Mulder stirred the steaming milk at the stovetop, his back to her as Jackson joined her at the table. "This is going to be so good and she's just going to miss out because…breast milk."

               “I don’t think this is what I envisioned when I pictured spending time with my biological parents,” Jackson stifled a chuckle as he watched Mulder pour the milk into a mug, stirring the contents vigorously until it was to his liking. “Not that I’m complaining or anything.”

               “Did they encourage you to be curious and fun-loving, Jackson?” Scully didn’t want to bring the energy back down but she couldn’t help but reference his adoptive parents as she filled his water glass, the butterflies creeping into her throat.

               Jackson nodded as he put his napkin across his lap, not a trace of sadness on his face as he glanced at the reflection on the bend in the fork, contemplating every word. “They did their best with consideration to the pain in the ass that they called son. I wasn’t the easiest and it only got worse as I got older—they weren’t exactly equipped for a kid like me. I don’t think many people could have handled someone like me.”

               “Something tells me that they never looked at you as anything less than what you are,” Mulder carried the mug of cocoa to the table, setting it next to Jackson’s plate while he made a declarative in front of the mother of his children and his son. “And that would be a miracle that they couldn’t have gotten any other way. That’s how I see things.”

               Scully mouthed I love you from across their little, evening setup, the steam rising from hot pans and plates as Mulder settled into the third chair and returned an un-uttered I know much to her chagrin. Mulder had been watching too much Star Wars but the meaning was received and struck her heart in just the right way as she took a sip of her tea, hiding her smile behind the cup. It shouldn’t have made her feel like a million dollars but it did as the blush peeked out along her cheeks all while Jackson pretended not to notice his parental units and their flirting. Something was endearing about all of it; even if it made the already quiet dinner that much more awkward as Jackson speared the first bite of pasta, savoring the flavor.

               Just as quickly as the first bites began to be consumed, the hush in the unremarkable house was ended with the unpleasant wailing by his infant sister.

               “She let me get two bites in,” Scully was a little frustrated but the glimmer in her eyes told an entirely different story as she started to rise from the table. “Better see if I can get her to nurse for a bit.”

               “Mom, you just sit there and eat a little,” Jackson was on his feet in only moments, the look on his face determined as he put his napkin next to his plate while giving her a gentle nudge of the shoulder. “Let me see if it’s just gas?”

               “Jackson, I can feed her so you can eat while it’s hot,” Scully’s eyes widened as moved toward the living room, a little hint of a knowing smile on his face as he turned around.

               “Let me try?” Jackson shrugged while Lily’s cries changed pitch in the background, growing in volume to the point that he winced at the shrill sound she made. “I have a feeling…It’s just gas. If it’s not, you’ll know pretty fast.”

               “It couldn’t hurt and it isn’t like they’re far away,” Mulder knew the first thought from Scully was about Jackson being unfamiliar with his sister but he wanted them to bond as he put a hand over hers. “If she keeps at the screaming, she’s hungry.”

               “Okay,” Scully’s stomach growled as she gave a nod toward Jackson, watching him move toward the other side of the couch where the bassinet was situated. “…Don’t forget to support her head while you’re holding her, Jackson.”

               "I know, I've held babies before," Jackson spoke up over the top of Lily's stuttered cries as he handled her with care, gathering her into his arms as her tear-filled eyes looked up at him while her little pout trembled and her hands swung. “Oh, my God, Lilybean, you stink. Mom, where're the diapers?"

               “There’s a diaper bag next to the couch on the floor,” Scully was chuckling at Jackson already giving Lily a nickname as she looked at him holding her against his chest in the doorway. “There should be an opened container of wipes in there as well…and powder, if she needs it.”

               Jackson was undeniably unskilled but attentive as he addressed the soiled diaper after getting her out of the coordinating bottoms and unhooked the onesie while his sister continued her series of cries. "Let's address the biohazard going on in here…All you eat is breast milk, Lilybean...guh."

              Jackson was mainly exaggerating the reaction to the odor wafting around Lily as he swapped out the dirty diaper for a clean one after making sure she had been properly wiped. Lily hadn’t quite developed the motor functions for true laughter but she was fully captivated by his facial features as he scrunched his nose and puffed out his cheeks while discarding the concealed, poop-filled diaper into a plastic bag. It was then that his tongue extended and the sound of cartoon-like horror popped free from his throat, coaxing the cutest, sweet grin from that beautiful face as she kicked her little feet on the couch cushions. If Jackson hadn’t known what love looked like before, he certainly knew what it looked like as he fastened her clothes and tickled her feet before pulling her back into a cradled grasp.

               It swelled their parents’ hearts as they stole a peek from the kitchen.

               “Fresh diaper and a sneaky toot after you got powder on your butt, you’re right as rain,” Jackson swayed as he paced the floor with Lily in his arms, taking her past the tree while her eyes studied his face. “Big brother has to be right about a little bit of stuff…and we know a stinker when we see one.”

               Scully was nibbling at her slice of garlic bread but her focus was on watching a sight she had imagined a thousand times as Jackson began a one-sided conversation with his two-month-old sister. Scully's anxiety-fueled rant from earlier started to seem moot as Lily's tiny fingers coiled around Jackson’s while he enthralled her with a rambling story about teaching her how to ride a bike one day. Her soft cooing was just enough sound to carry through the room, the tone and inflection intimating a babble, mouth mimicking the same movements that it would if she were speaking. Jackson nodded and let out a laugh, the intent of understanding the baby sounds more than apparent as he kept all of his attention on her.

               “Is that so?” Jackson adjusted his grip on her and held her a little closer, resting his palm across her belly to latch on to as she played with his fingers. “I’ll tell you a secret, though, because you’re my baby sister and I know you won’t tell anyone. We’re not just special because of how we came into this world. We are special because we’re always going to have each other, through thick and thin, bad and good times.”

               “How did we get so lucky?” Mulder could see Scully crying again as he chewed a bite of his pasta, the tenderness of the moment finally setting in as he squeezed her knee.

               “Deep down I always knew he’d be good with her and love every little part of her but this was unexpected, in the best of ways,” Scully wiped the tears and folded her fingers around Mulder’s hand, gripping the curve between his index and his thumb as he smiled in her direction. “It wasn’t luck. It was destined.”

               Jackson sank into the easy chair and rested Lily against his shoulder to rub her back as she gripped the edge of his shirt. “Even if I’m far away, I’ll always be able to get here whenever you need me. No matter how big or small the crisis may be…no distance will be too far if you ask your brother to just come home.”

               Home.

               It rolled off of Jackson’s tongue and struck a chord for Mulder and Scully as the subject of their discussion before his arrival seemed to be on his mind as much as it had been on theirs. Jackson placed a light kiss on his sister's forehead while he hummed an indistinct tune and rocked her while the tips of his fingers caressed the expanse of her back until the cooing turned into a long, continuous murmur. Scully recalled doing that very same thing with Jackson when he was the same size and it had the same effect on him on several occasions. It usually put him to sleep and it was doing the same thing for Lily as her eyelids did battle with gravity while a puddle of drool formed on his shirt where her chin lay.

               “One thing I want you to remember as you drift back to sleep is that a house is not a home, Lilybean,” Jackson sounded like his Grandmother as his index drifted over a pink, soft cheek until it trailed into the stream of drool. “Home is where you laugh, cry, talk, and argue with the people that you love and love you back. This is home.”

@monikafilefan @xfilesfanficexchange​ @frangipanidownunder​ @peacenik0​ @piecesofscully​ @starbuck1013​ @suitablyaggrieved​ @danceswithcybermen​ (for you Teresa!!)

[blondrichclosetwitch]

Mikey: Make sure you speak up

Ryan: Okay

Mikey: What's your name?

Ryan: Ryan

Mikey: Yo, ayy be quiet. What's your name? What do you do? What's your first memory?

Ryan: The first word I learned to say or that I ever said

Mikey: What's the most amazing thing you've ever witnessed?

(Uh, hell no)

(You're not gonna make it, are you?)

Na’kel: Friendship and how it controls the world

Mikey: Hahaha, alright, um, what three superpowers do you wish you had? My bad, Say it again...

Ryan: Flying and I want to be invincible

Mikey: Alright, make sure you speak up

Mikey: What's your name?

Maybe we can get a little—a little bit, a little bit, a little bit

Evan: I wish I could sleep without, like, being dead

But forever at the same time

Mikey: Yo, what, what's, what's the year 3000 going to look like?

(dog, stop, stop, stop)

(What you mean bro?)

Na’kel: ...Or it could be great and shit can fly and buildings would be very, very tall and everybody won't know what the ground looks like

Frank: That's fucked up

Mikey: Chloe, shh, okay, start over right now

Na’kel: Best thing about being me is I got a nice set of friends

Pretty clear mind, I feel like, sometimes

What's the worst thing about being me? Probably, uh–

Sage: Having bushy eyebrows, being Drake

Na’kel: I think a lot, a lot, too much. Sometimes I'm very musty

Mikey: Talents, got any secret talents?

Na’kel: I don't think so, I'm pretty open with all– everything that I do

Frank: Talents? Um, I can play the theremin

Ryan: Probably my brother just to see how much work he has in one day...

Sage: Probably, uh, probably Tyler, his life seems pretty awesome. No, actually, no, fuck him. Um, I don't know, probably Dill 'cause he doesn't have to do anything at all; just sits inside his house

Mikey: What's your name?

Sage: Sage Elsesser

Mikey: What do you do?

Ryan: I play soccer, and I go to school

Ryan: Um, I wanna be better at skating

Evan: Probably jump off something really high, super high, and try to land in like a handstand or something

Mikey: Alright, that's it…

Ryan: I don’t know, there would be a lot of things I’ll do, probably spend a lot of time with my family and tell them I’m going away and probably...

Na’kel: spend a couple hours with my family and then I’ll go out and just do everything that I ever thought about trying

Ryan: I don’t know. There's a lot of things you could do

Mikey: How far is a light year? How far is a light year?

(A second, a thousand years?)

[ccinagalaxyfaraway]

Oh my gosh I can't stop thinking about that chapter in "i take from you everything you allow" where Wolffe asks Plo if he's got a light for his cigarette and Plo just lights it with freaking force lightning. Could you do write a sequel to that or an extension of that scene? It's one of my favorite chapters in that fic

So that took a little longer than expected, but at last:

cigarettes and cilantro

from [ lit ]

1. 

Jedi die as easily as anyone else. 

The thought echoes in Wolffe’s mind. Jedi are not infallible. Shoot one, and he will fall over dead just like a trooper. There were so many bodies. He’d heard Generals Windu and Yoda speaking. One hundred eighty dead on the sands - and if they died like men, what else had he been taught that was a lie?

He throws his bucket onto his bunk. It rolls to a stop on top of his pillow, wobbling like a grave marker. He snarls and turns away from the macabre scene. 

His hands won’t stop shaking. They’re going to give him a Jedi. The vode have been called to action, and they’re going to give him a fragile, mortal Jedi who is not at all an invincible god, and he is going to watch his Jedi die on some battlefield because they die, that’s what they do, and Wolffe is only a man. He’s only a man, and his shaking mortal hands won’t stop shaking, damn the little gods.

He paces laps around the room. He wants to run, but outside the rest of his brothers are celebrating their first action in ten long waterlogged years, and he doesn’t want to spoil their mood, even if they are all deluded and he’s the only one who sees things as they really are. The restless energy crawls under his skin. He needs something, anything to make it stop. 

Bacara’s got that ARC vod who brings contraband in from off-world training exercises. The damn things smell like shit, but he swears they’re good for his nerves. It takes a few minutes to pick open Bacara’s footlocker and a few seconds to fish out the little paper box of cigarettes. The first breath burns, but he keeps at it and soon enough the tremors stop. 

It’s not quite enough to get rid of his sense of impending doom, but he thinks that nothing can do that anymore. They’re all living on borrowed time. There’s a blaster shot out there with his name on it, and it’s just a matter of when it finds him. 

2. 

There’s 576 troopers under his command, and 10 of them are still alive because their general is a reckless maniac. Plo Koon was supposed to be a nice, sensible High Councilor, not a walking mir’shupurla or’dinii like the 501st got, or a paklalatla diplomat like the 212th’s. 

Plo Koon is somehow even worse, because he goes about with his bad ideas and his silver tongue cheerfully. As if life is a game of cards in which he is the dealer rigging the results, and he won’t stop smiling about it. All that osik about Jedi serenity and wisdom was exactly that; Wolffe has yet to talk to a single vod whose jetti is as advertised. 

That alone would be enough to drive Wolffe to drink, except - 

Well, the whole jetti thing aside, he’s practically the picture of mandokar. He’s stubborn and an unholy terror on the battlefield, and so very pleased to be alive. If Jango could see him - well, he’d probably try to kill him, but if Jango heard his description, he’d approve wholeheartedly. And to say nothing of his loyalty; if any CC had allowed such a maneuver and risked their priority asset for troopers who really should have known better, there would be hell to pay. But the man took one look at the situation and went off to save his men simply because they were alive and needed the help.

The part of Wolffe that is predisposed to falling for people with mandokar is already bracing for impact. The part of him responsible for protecting his charge is getting ready to pickle his own liver. Since there’s not a drop of alcohol in sight, both parts are going to have to settle for chain-smoking. 

He’s got his own cigs now. Still crappy whatever’s-cheapest-and-available, but they get the job done. His standards, though low, do exist; he isn’t interested in cutting his already short lifespan materially shorter with death sticks. Bacara is a more understanding vod than, say, Fox, and didn’t kick up much of a fuss once his shit was replaced; now they swap complaints about their latest smokes. This one tastes even more like tar than usual and burns too quick.

He discards the remains of the cig and fishes out the next. A trooper - one of the lucky ones now singing the General’s praises - walks by.

“You okay, sir?” he asks.

“Just fine,” Wolffe grumbles, thumbing the wheel on his lighter for a spark. The shiny pauses.

“He’s really something, isn’t he?” he says. “The General. They said the Jedi were good, but I don’t think I really believed it. But he came back for us.”

“He did,” says Wolffe. “Don’t make him do it again,” he says, and takes a long drag. 

3. 

His General uses Force lightning, and he uses it to light cigarettes. If that isn’t a frivolous use of the Force, Wolffe doesn’t know what is. He should probably be more concerned than he is, but the calming effect of the tobacco has already settled in. 

He keeps going back to the moment Plo stepped in close, like a challenge, like an invitation, and the urge to get him up against the wall and make him show something other than his cool composure. There must be something under his facade of unshakable calm. He doesn’t have hair to pull, but his fussy, excessively draped robes would provide as good a handhold as anything. He’d resist, of course; the fight would be part of the fun, but they’ve already established that Wolffe is the better between them at hand-to-hand. Wolffe would win in the end.

They’d start with their usual exchange, short, sharp jabs to test one another’s guard, and then longer flurries as they warmed up. Wolffe would allow Plo to press forward, would draw him in slowly, gradually, until he was in throwing range. Plo would notice and fall back, and their dance would continue. And then Plo would tire, as he did without the Force, and he would slow, and maybe the first few times he lingered in range too long Wolffe would be lenient and allow him to escape, sliding just out of reach. But at the edge of his endurance, Wolffe would catch him and haul him down to the ground, hold him wrists to the dirt, pinned by Wolffe’s weight. And he’d lean in, their breaths mixing, and -

Ah, fuck. The cigarette has burned almost all the way down in the time that he’s been dreaming. He takes a last drag and shakes himself loose of the fantasy. It’s never going to happen anyway. 

4. 

He’s sitting outside watching the stars and the arm of the galaxy in the night sky. There’s nothing left to do for the night. Everything’s tucked in and the captains can take care of whatever petty issues might arise. He’s got himself an honest-to-gods night off, and he knows exactly what he’s going to do with it. 

Plo settles beside him, his robes brushing quietly against the grass, and obligingly provides a spark when Wolffe holds out a cig. The smoke curls unpleasantly in the air and Plo leans away, nose wrinkling behind his mask. It’s not especially poisonous to him; it just gets caught in the rebreather and takes forever to cycle out. Still he comes to join Wolffe when he has nothing to do except burn a pack. 

“The benefits outweigh the drawbacks,” he says when Wolffe asks. “I’d accept your company however it is offered.” He lies stretched out on the ground, head so close to Wolffe’s hip, one clawed hand resting at the hollow where his ribs end, the other absently spinning a flower that smells like cold. 

“You could ask me to stop,” says Wolffe. It’s just a pastime; he doesn’t get cravings. His hands don’t shake for lack of nicotine. But - why not indulge a little when tomorrow and its consequences may never come? Will likely never come, even, the way the war is going. 

Plo hums instead of giving an answer. “I think, when we return to the ship, I should like to plant a garden.”

“Oh?” There’s not very much room that hasn’t already been claimed. A corner in the bay area that used to be for shuttles. Maybe he could clear out a spot by the engines. Plants liked heat, right? 

Plo hums again. “I have not tasted kand in many years. It grows poorly away from Dorin.”

Wolffe resists the urge to comment. Dorin doesn’t share any of its creations well, present company included. In fact, Wolffe is convinced present company might have a few more working brain cells had he not convinced the Sages to convince General Windu to bring him to Coruscant. But Plo continues as though he can’t feel the sarcasm coming off Wolffe in waves. 

“It’s a shrub, you see. Maintaining the necessary environment through the first nonproductive seasons makes it an unattractive option for commercial off-world growers. Only a few attempts have been made, even by the Agri-Corp.”

“Seems like you might be better off trying something else,” says Wolffe. “Seems like a lot of work for something that you might never see.”

“Perhaps,” says Plo, and then he takes off on another tangent. 

5.

He’s thinking about tomorrow and all the days that come after, and he’s thinking about what being happy feels like, and mostly he’s thinking about Plo, because he can have Plo if he wants and he knows it, and he’ll take Plo even if he might lose him later, and the losing will hurt more than anything else ever could, but the not having is even worse. And each moment of having makes the possible Plo-less future even more terrifying, but also moves the future where he gets to keep Plo closer into reach, and that’s worth it, isn’t it? To have and to hold, and to keep reaching for the future that he wants. 

He’s thinking and Plo is coming to him, and he’s got a cigarette between his fingers, the last of the box. He bends it in half and bins it unlit. 

“Not to your taste?” Plo asks, falling into step behind him.

“Nah,” says Wolffe. “Think I’ve found something better.”

[the-inept-artist]

The Next Step

It's my first time doing a Destiel oneshot, I hope to make my fellow shippers proud! I'm also considering doing an animatic to be posted to my Tumblr, but I gotta figure out the tech and get the right software first, so that won't be for a LOOOOONG time.

Supernatural doesn't belong to me, nor does "Angel With A Shotgun", or any other song mentioned.

Anyway, as always, please enjoy and review!

~oOo~

It was over. It was finally over.

Castiel nursed his beer from his spot just inside the library as the sound of happy people washed over him. Conversation and laughter floated out of the war room—

No, not war room. Foyer. They had no use for a war room anymore. Cas needed to remember that.

It had seemed like ages since Chuck had surrendered. Somehow, two hunters, an angel and a nephilim had managed to bring down the almighty creator of the universe. And Dean—intelligent, cunning, wonderful Dean—made Chuck swear on his every creation that he would bring back everyone the four had lost to his little game, along with repairing the dimension that Michael had destroyed.

So that was why Cas was watching Mary Winchester chat animatedly with Charlie Bradbury and Jody Mills. Watching John Winchester stand awkwardly in a corner beside Crowley, tipping back his third beer of the night. Watching Sam nearly double over in laughter in response to Gabriel's joke, Balthazar rolling his eyes in mock-annoyance. Watching Kelly Kline grin excitedly after beating Bobby Singer and Rowena MacLeod at cards for the fourth time in a row that night. Watching Jessica Moore try to explain what college was to Amara. And many more revelers, all smiling and happy and alive.

"Hey." Cas nearly jumped from his seat as he noticed Jack standing beside him, looking at him concernedly. "Are you okay? We won, you should be celebrating."

Cas settled back, idly twirling his beer bottle and watching the alcohol swish around inside. "I know, and believe me, I'm ecstatic. It's just…I don't know."

Jack pulled up a chair and sat beside him. "Not sure what to do now?"

"Yes, that's it. Ever since I met Dean and Sam, there's always been an enemy to fight. Lucifer, other angels, the Leviathans…there's never not been a struggle." Cas sighed. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure if that makes sense."

"No, no, I get it." Jack leaned his arm on the table and shifted in his seat. "I am a bit restless as well. But I say we make it through the party tonight, and tomorrow we figure out what to do next."

Cas mulled over the nephilim's words. "That sounds…doable."

"Hey everyone!" Dean's voice echoed over the clang of the metal door. Kevin Tran peered over his shoulder, bucketloads of Chinese food in his hands. "Lookit what the kid and I got!" The two headed down the stairs. Cas got up off his seat and joined the throng of people, Jack not far behind him.

"A karaoke machine?" Mary said, reading the box Dean held. "Where in the world did you find that?"

"We stopped in a tech store on the way back from the Chinese place," Kevin said, moving to the table to unladen his arms. "Dean insisted."

Dean smiled sheepishly. "I thought it'd be fun. Any takers?"

Charlie shrugged, a smile gracing her face. "Why the hell not, I'm in."

Several others followed the redhead's example, nodding and murmuring their agreements. Crowley and John took a pass, but more or less the majority of the party decided to partake in the fun.

Sam came up to Cas as he was watching Dean set up the machine. "You joining in?"

Cas glanced at the younger Winchester before returning his gaze to the elder. "I may. Not sure."

Sam nodded. "Gabe's definitely doing it. I'd bet all my money that he'll do "Sexy Back"."

Cas cracked a small smile. "That's my brother for you. Do you think you'll sing something?"

"Ah, nah." Sam rubbed the back of his neck as Dean hooked up the mic. "I've never really liked singing, and certainly not in front of people. Dean, on the other hand—"

"I call first!" Dean yelled, quickly straightened up from behind the machine. He grabbed the microphone and started scrolling through the songs, ignoring Charlie and Kevin's playful boos.

Cas nodded sagely, fighting a chuckle. "I see."

For a time, Cas enjoyed the many performances put on. Dean gave a rousing rendition of "I'm Too Sexy", to which Crowley immediately groaned and left the room. Cas found his face a bit hotter than normal as he watched Dean move to the music. But as Charlie took the makeshift stage, he attempted to calm himself and focus on the coming acts.

Charlie sang "One Woman Army", and Kevin managed to stumble his way through "Die Young". Jess ended up being the jewel of the party, singing "I Wouldn't Mind" with the most beautiful voice. True to form, Gabriel performed "Sexy Back", complete with some more than inappropriate dance moves. Funnily enough, as Cas looked around a while later, neither Gabe or Sam were to be seen.

The two finally came back just as Amara was wrapping up "Never Enough". They seemed much more giggly and closer than before, Sam having an arm casually slung around the smaller angel. Though, Cas, noted, Gabe was wearing Sam's coat. And Sam's mess of hair certainly was…messier than usual.

Cas smirked to himself, turning his gaze back to the head of the room. About time.

"Oi, Cas!" Cas was startled for the second time as Dean materialized beside him. "You haven't sung yet, c'mon!"

"Oh, um. I don't know," Cas said lamely. Dean chuckled and pulled him up off his seat.

"Please?" The hunter wiggled his eyebrows, which made Cas's stomach explode into fuzzy bumblebees, tickling his sides and making his head feel light. There was something about Dean's ernest and hopeful expression that made his face flush and he couldn't help a small smile escaping.

"O-okay," the angel timidly agreed, letting Dean lead him to the stage. He waited, awkwardly staring out over the idly chatting audience as Dean bent over the machine.

"Alright, you touch here to scroll up, and here to scroll down," Dean explained. "Hit this to confirm your song, and have fun!" He stepped down the stairs and started chatting with Mary, leaving Cas to his own devices.

Cas looked through the music selection with trepidation. Nothing he saw immediately jumped out. Everyone had somehow found a song to describe them, yet he—wait. Cas stopped scrolling and eyed the song title. "Angel With A Shotgun".

Cas remembered this song. It was one of the songs that convenience store he once worked at had on shuffle. The first time he had heard it, his thoughts had instantly jumped to Dean, much to his confusion and mild embarrassment at the time. Though as he listened, waiting for the next time it would play softly over the store speakers, he realized that there was a certain…pull, to the song. To how it somehow took every puzzling feeling he had and explained it clearly and concisely.

The song had helped him admit to himself and accept that he had a—what did humans call it?—a thing for Dean.

Cas's eyes flicked from the karaoke machine to Dean. He had long ago shoved the small piece of hope to a remote corner of his heart, but now that hope was shining through, almost hurting his chest with its strength and brilliance. They were free now, with nothing to hold them back or worry about. Could he…could they have a chance?

"C'mon, Cas, pick a song!" Dean exclaimed. Cas was shaken from his thoughts as they rest of the party realized who was onstage and began to clap and cheer encouragingly. The bumblebees in Cas's stomach were now rocketing around, pinging lightly off their walls.

He took a breath and before he had time to back out, selected "Angel With A Shotgun".

The familiar opening started, and Cas relaxed a bit. It's not like you're doing this blind, he reasoned with himself as the backup singers sang their parts. You know the song, and you have the lyrics. You'll be fine. Glancing out over the audience, he caught Dean's eye, who smiled and gave a thumbs up. Cas's heart skipped a beat as he cleared his throat and hastily looked down at the screen. Probably.

"Get out your guns, battles begun

Are you a saint, or a sinner?

If loves a fight, than I shall die

With my heart on a trigger."

Cas knew his singing voice wasn't the best. He was a bit too low in pitch, and he was probably holding the microphone too close. But as people listened and he warmed up, he felt his nerves settle down. The bumblebees faded away.

"They say before you start a war

You better know what you're fighting for

Well baby, you are all that I adore

If love is what you need, a soldier I will be

I'm an angel with a shotgun

Fighting til' the wars won

I don't care if heaven won't take me back."

Cas couldn't help bouncing on his toes a bit. Jack whooped, and he felt a slight smile break out. Chancing a quick glance at Dean, he saw the hunter nodding his head in time.

“I'll throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe

Don't you know you're everything I have?

And I wanna live, not just survive tonight

Sometimes to win, you've got to sin

Don't mean I'm not a believer

And Major Tom, will sing along

Yeah, they still say I'm a dreamer."

Cas never really understood who this "Major Tom" was, but he knew that human music could be vague and have odd references. He didn't think too much of it as he moved into the beginning of the second chorus.

They say before you start a war

You better know what you're fighting for

Well baby, you are all that I adore

If love is what you need, a soldier I will be."

He wasn't thinking anymore. He was openly grinning, moving in time with the music, even jumping about a little bit. He felt as though he were invincible. Is this how all humans feel during karaoke?

"I'm an angel with a shotgun

Fighting til' the wars won

I don't care if heaven won't take me back

I'll throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe

Don't you know you're everything I have?

And I wanna live, not just survive tonight."

As the music slowed, so did Cas. He swept his eyes over the audience, landing on Dean. Dean was smiling, the lights reflecting in his eyes like stars over a deep green sea. He's so beautiful.

"Oh, oh whoa whoa oh whoa

Oh, oh whoa whoa oh whoa."

Cas kept his eye contact with Dean. The bumblebees returned tenfold, some appearing in his throat, stinging slightly. Yet he never faltered, never wavered. He wanted Dean to listen and understand what he was saying.

"Oh, oh whoa whoa oh whoa

Oh, oh whoa whoa oh whoa."

Cas stepped down from the makeshift stage, ignoring the amount of eyes that were on him. As the music all but stopped, he set down the mic and strode right up to Dean. The hunter's eyes widened in surprise, and though it may have just been the lighting or alcohol, Cas swore he saw his cheeks flush. He lowered his voice, gazing into Dean's eyes as his lips smiled with the unasked question.

"I'm an angel with a shotgun

Fighting til' the wars won

I don't care if heaven won't take me back."

And Dean—the man who once clung tight to him as they ascended from Hell, the man who always had his back, the man he had fallen in love with—took his hand, smiling as he nodded. Cas's head instantly felt weightless, and he thought his face would split from the size of his grin as launched into the final chorus.

"I'm an angel with a shotgun

Fighting til' the wars won

I don't care if heaven won't take me back

I'll throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe

Don't you know you're everything I have?"

Almost laughing, Cas spun Dean around, pulling him closer. He saw in his peripheral vision people smiling joyously. Sam was giving an approving thumbs-up, and Crowley, Gabriel and Balthazar were going around collecting money from others. But his main focus was on the man in front of him, beaming widely, blushing freely.

"And I want to live, not just survive, tonight

And I'm gonna hide, hide, hide my wings tonight."

Dimly, Cas realized he should finish the song back on the steps. But as he went to reluctantly pull away, Dean tightened his grip and pulled him, if possible, even closer. Now it was Cas's turn to be surprised as Dean gently cupped his face and quietly sang the last few lines.

"They say before you start a war

You better know what you're fighting for

Well baby, you are all that I adore

If love is what you need, a soldier I will be…"

Dean trailed off as he pressed his lips to Cas's. Cas's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he relaxed, nearly melting against Dean. Sure, he had been hoping for a yes, maybe even a hug after the song, but this…this went beyond his wildest dreams. He could even ignore everyone going nuts and yelling in gleeful surprise.

Cas had no more doubts about the future now. No more qualms about the next step, or anxieties over what the rest of his life would be like with no enemies. No, he thought as he and Dean broke apart to grin at each other. I know what I want to do.

I want to be the one to make him smile like that for the rest of his life.

[zelskzerker]

Mangadex went down so I read alot and listed them from most fun read to least

1. Majo no Geboku to Maou no Tsuno

2. Yasei no Last Boss ga Arawareta!

3. Tensei Shitara dai Nana Ouji dattanode, Kimamani Majutsu o Kiwamemasu

4. Tensei Shitara Ken Deshita

5. Candy & Cigarettes

6. The Dark Queen and I Strike Back

7. Kuro no Shoukanshi

8. Berserk of Gluttony

9. Ragna Crimson

10. Oddman 11

11. The Wrong Way To Use Healing Magic

12. Isekai Meikyuu no Saishinbu o Mezasou

13. Koko wa Ore ni Makasete Saki ni Ike to Itte kara 10-nen ga Tattara Densetsu ni Natteita

14. Youjo to Scoop to Maganou

15. Yakuza Reincarnation

16. Sekai de Tadahitori no Mamono Tsukai ~Tenshoku Shitara Maou ni Machigawa Remashita~

17. Boukenka ni Narou!: Skill Board de Dungeon Kouryaku

18. Live Dungeon!

19. I Don't Really Get It but It Looks Like I Was Reincarnated in Another World

20. Older Elite Knight is cute only in front of me

21. Gunbured x Sisters

22. Shindou Yuusha to Maid Onee-san

23. Sekai Saikou no Ansatsusha, Isekai Kizoku ni Tensei suru

24. Henkyougurashi no Maou, Tensei shite Saikyou no Majutsushi ni Naru

25. Kenja no Deshi wo Nanoru Kenja

26. Naze Boku no Sekai wo Daremo Oboeteinai no ka?

27. A Skeleton Who Was The Brave

28. Kamitachi ni Hirowareta Otoko

29. Death Attribute Magician

30. Saijaku Tamer wa Gomi Hiroi no Tabi o Hajimemashita.

31. Vermeil in Gold

32. The Unwanted Undead Adventurer  

33. Shokei Shoujo no Ikirumichi

34. Moon-led Journey Across Another World

35. The Principle of a Philosopher by Eternal Fool "Asley"

36. Legend

37. Maou-sama no Machizukuri!: Saikyou no Dungeon wa Kindai Toshi

38. Shadow Hero's Daily Life

39. Boushoku-Hi no Ken

40. Seijo-sama? Iie, Toorisugari no Mamonotsukai desu!: Zettai Muteki no Seijo wa Mofumofu to Tabi wo Suru

41. Saikyou Juzoku Tensei: Majutsu Otaku no Risoukyou

42. Realist Maou Niyoru Seiiki Naki Isekai Kaikaku

43. Exceeding limits can only be handled by reincarnated people

44. Shitsugyou Kenja no Nariagari: Kirawareta Sainou wa Sekai Saikyou deshita

45. The Unsuccessful yet Academically Unparalleled Sage ~A Cheating S-Rank Sorcerer's Post-Rebirth Adventurer Log~

46. Jitsu wa Ore, Saikyou deshita?

47. Tensei Kyuuketsuki-san wa Ohirune ga Shitai

48. Chichi wa Eiyuu, Haha wa Seirei, Musume no Watashi wa Tenseisha.

49. Eiyuu-ou, Bu wo Kiwameru tame Tenseisu

50. Senken no Majutsushi to Yobareta Kenshi

51. The Undead Lord of the Palace of Darkness

52. Teihen Ryoushu No Kanchigai Eiyuutan

53. Sabae to Yattara Owaru

54. Minotaur’s Sweetheart

55. Neta Chara Tensei to ka anmari da!

56. Ore wa Mada, Honki wo Dashiteinai

57. Tensei Kizoku no Isekai Boukenroku ~Jichou wo Shiranai Kamigami no Shito~

58. Do You Think Someone Like You Could Defeat the Demon Lord?

59. Gaikotsu Kishi-sama, Tadaima Isekai e Odekake-chuu

60. Seirei Gensouki

61. Saikyou no Shokugyou wa Yuusha Demo Kenja Demo Naku Kanteishi (Kari) Rashii Desu yo?

62. Chillin' in Another World with Level 2 Super Cheat Powers

63. Potion-danomi de Ikinobimasu!

64. Even Though I'm a Former Noble and a Single Mother, My Daughters Are Too Cute and Working as an Adventurer Isn’t Too Much of a Hassle

65. The Invincible Sage in the Second World.

66. Keizoku wa Maryoku Nari

67. Girlfriend Who Absolutely Doesn't Want to Take a Bath VS Boyfriend Who Absolutely Wants Her to Take a Bath

68. Revival Game of Wandering Reincarnations

69. Magicraft Meister

70. Tenkuu no Shiro o Moratta no de Isekai de Tanoshiku Asobitai

71. The Reincarnation Magician Of The Inferior Eyes

72. Dorei Tensei: Sono Dorei, Saikyou no Moto Ouji ni Tsuki

73. Joou Heika no Isekai Strategy

74. Maougun Saikyou no Majutsushi wa Ningen datta

75. Tenseishichatta yo (Iya, Gomen)

76. Lonely Attack on A Different World

77. Start a leisurely lord life with a plant magic cheat After farming with the knowledge of the previous life, a reversal life began

78. Kuro no Maou

79. HIRAHEISHI WA KAKO O YUMEMIRU

80. Eiyuu no Musume toshite Umarekawatta Eiyuu wa Futatabi Eiyuu wo Mezasu

81. Tensei Goblin dakedo Shitsumon aru?

82. I Have A Slow Life In A Different World (I Wish)

83. The Abandoned Hero is Going Home

84. The Reincarnated Inferior Magic Swordsman

85. Hazure Waku no Joutai Ijou Skill de Saikyou ni Natta Ore ga Subete wo Juurin Suru made

86. 6-sai no Kenja wa Hikage no Michi wo Ayumitai

87. Nito no Taidana Isekai Shoukougun: Saijaku Shoku "Healer" nano ni Saikyou wa Cheat desu ka?

88. Fushichou e no Tensei: Dragon Taoseru tte Futsuu no Tori ja nai yo ne?

89. The Black Create Summoner: Revolt of Reincarnated

[beneaththetangles]

Reading Dungeon Meshi, Chapter 1: Hot Pot

Dungeon Meshi by Ryoko Kui is my favorite current seinen series, and a close second to all-time favorite Lone Wolf and Cub. I’m a shameless sucker for your standard-issue dungeon-delving fantasy adventure, and I like to see a good smart twist on the genre. Dungeon Meshi (literally “Dungeon Meal,” published in English as Delicious in Dungeon) gathers up a bushel of the old, comfortable, familiar cliches, brushes off the dust, gives them a squeeze, and weaves them together with elegant art, a warm sense of humor, and an endearing cast. The premise might smell funny at first, but if you learn anything from this series, it’s that you can cook up something astonishing from the most unlikely ingredients.

Synopsis

It all begins in a small island village…

Mysterious moans from a mausoleum. The revelation of a “golden kingdom” buried beneath the earth by a mad magician. The promise of a dying king that whoever defeats said magician will inherit the title to that lost and fabulous realm. Adventurers flock to the island, and numberless stories are born.

In the depths of the dungeon a band of bold comrades face down a red dragon. A daunting challenge, but they have courage, brains, teamwork – and empty stomachs. Laios (human, male), frontline fighter and de facto leader, sees how hunger and fatigue have crippled the party’s performance. Distracted by his thoughts, he is nearly snapped up by the dragon, and is only saved when his sister Falin, the party cleric, shoves him out of the way, only to find herself in the dragon’s jaws. With her dying breath, Falin casts a spell, and the party is transported to the surface, leaving her behind to be devoured.

Laios wants to go back into the dungeon at once, knowing that if the dragon is slain and Falin’s remains are recovered, there’s a chance she can be resurrected. But the party is penniless, poorly equipped, and down three members — Falin, and two others who quit upon returning to the surface. Only Chilchuck the halfling locksmith, Marcille the elven mage, and Laios himself remain. Rebuilding the party and refreshing their supplies would take precious time; if Falin is to be revived, they must recover her remains before she is digested. So, in spite of their strapped conditions, Laios is determined to return to the dungeon immediately, and Marcille and Chilchuck agree to go with him – Marcille because of her friendship with Falin, Chilchuck out of professional pride. But how will they survive without provisions?

By eating the monsters of course!

This is Laios’s big idea, born of his otaku-like obsession with the biology of monsters and the ecosystem of dungeons. Chilchuck and Marcille are, understandably, initially averse, and Marcille’s disgust is especially emphatic (and hilarious). But they follow Laios long enough to catch and kill a walking mushroom and a huge scorpion, whereupon he embarks on the experiment of converting foes into food.

At this point they are joined by Senshi, a reclusive and eccentric dwarf with a passion for monster cuisine. Noticing Laios’s amateurish attempts, Senshi offers his own cookware and expertise, revealing that he himself has been eating the monsters of the dungeon for more than ten years! With his assistance (and after surviving a surprise attack from a ceiling-dwelling slime), they prepare the dish of the day: huge scorpion and walking mushroom hot pot.

The result, of course, is delicious. Even Marcille has her green-eggs-and-ham come-to-Senshi moment, and discovers the joy of a dungeon meal. Basking in the glow of good food and good company, the party shares their quest with Senshi, who volunteers to join them. After all, cooking dragon has been his lifelong dream…

Thoughts

From page one, this story lured me in with the promise of the chthonic – the  dark, the strange, the labyrinthine, the subterranean, the hidden depths beneath our feet and beyond our thought, concealing ancient secrets. Lost kingdoms, mad magicians, unknown terrors, fabulous rewards? Yes please! Dungeon delving at its finest. Really, I’ll take any excuse to delve. Dungeons deep, caverns old, hollow halls beneath the fells – I’ll delve ‘em. My name’s from the Greek georgos, meaning farmer or earth-worker; ge-, earth, -érgon, work. I’m no farmer, and not much of a gardener, but I do love a good dig. (Remember Jurassic Park? “Because Grant is like me — he’s a digger.”) Dungeon Meshi accomplishes something truly alchemical, deftly mixing the two souls of the dig — the deep wonder and terror of exploring the underworld, and the humble, hearty, earthy necessities of farming, food, and even waste management (we’ll get to that.) So pick up your spade; there’s horrors to be unearthed.

What struck me next was the fallibility and fragility of our heroes. They might conquer demons and dragons, nightmares and sorceries, and yet be undone by mere hunger, by forgetting the limits of their own frail, mortal bodies. Heroes are not invincible gods who breeze through adventures without so much as a bathroom break. They are made of the same stuff as you and I. They need to rest, they need to think, and they need to eat. If you want to survive, much less triumph, you must have the humility to acknowledge the weakness of the flesh. Otherwise, well…it’s eat or be eaten.

So the situation’s grim, but the dark tone is leavened by the charm and the sweet good humor of the cast. Many a seinen series (and much modern fiction) thrusts the reader into a nasty world full of equally nasty people, with no clear heroes and nobody worth rooting for. In Dungeon Meshi, Ryoko Kui has given us one of the most lovable adventuring parties in manga. Laios is the clear-eyed, high-hearted, naive idealist, all smiles and boyish enthusiasm, a pillar of strength and quick wits in a pinch, maddeningly inept at reading people and social situations; in short, a paladin, and a true hero. Marcille is the scholar (and sometimes the schoolgirl), elegant yet practical, at turns bashful and fierce, frequently the voice of reason, occasionally the font of madness, sometimes vain, always courageous, and probably the most dangerous of the bunch. Chilchuck is the straight man, the dad, the long-suffering professional beset by incompetents, a man who understands the value of things, not least his own skills, and is frequently pained by the churlish carelessness of his bumbling companions. Senshi is the sage, the wise fool, the half-wild hermit, a beautiful, burly bear of a man, firmly rooted in the earth, almost an elemental spirit of the dungeon itself – and deeply caring.

Finally, it’s gladdening to read a story in which the communal meal takes center stage. Whatever they suffer, and however they bicker, the party always comes together around the fire to break bread and make peace. Eating isn’t just something they do; it’s the heart of the quest, the reward of their labors, the bodily affirmation of their covenant as comrades. At the end of the day, a good dinner together is the highest adventure.

Dungeon Meshi (Delicious in Dungeon) is being published in North American through Yen Press.

[theultimateegghead-blog]

30 FOLLOWER 5 PART SPECIAL! TOP 50 HARDEST BOSSES I HAVE FOUGHT.                                    Final - bosses 10 - 1

These bosses are the hardest. They are difficult the first time and difficult the tenth time. It takes extreme skill and patience to best these baddies. These are the ten bosses that gave me the most trouble of all bosses I can recall fighting.

NUMBER 10 - Neo Exdeath (Final Fantasy 5)

Neo Exdeath is the final form of the final boss of Final Fantasy V. I feel that I might have said final to much in that last sentence…oh well. Neo Exdeath is divided into five parts; each part is responsible for a specific attack. This boss can use very powerful magic such as meteor to just bombard the main cast. The ultimate corruption of the warlock Exdeath, this form simply wishes to return all of existence back to utter nothingness. He attacks relentlessly, leaving little room for error and will bombard even the most slightly unprepared player. In FFV, the job system is more important than leveling, so make sure you have a good job lineup. His ultimate attack is called Grand Cross, which is announced before he actually uses it. Grand cross can wipe a party out instantly, as it infects them with a bunch of status ailments, and the farther the battle drags on, the more he uses it. After a long and difficult fight, this monster is swallowed by the very void it coveted. Neo would later reappear in the MMO Final Fantasy XIV as a boss.  

Hardest thing about this boss – His ultimate attack. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

NUMBER 9 - Senator Armstrong (Metal Gear Rising Revengence)

Senator Armstrong is the main antagonist and final boss of Metal Gear Rising. The senator of Colorado that played college ball at the university of Texas. Senator Armstrong owns his own PMC (Private Military Company) and uses it as a police force for the city of Denver. A cold man who has big dreams for America but does not care about cutting down innocent lives of his own people to do so. He utilizes social media to his advantage in order to “use war as a business to end war as a business”. When Raiden fights him, he first uses a massive metal gear, but Raiden makes quick work of it, then the senator and Raiden engage in a long fight. Armstrong has these things called Nanomachines which render him near invincible. Most attacks do not even phase him, and his attacks can be devastating. He can cause fire to spew from the ground, he can throw giant metal pillars at Raiden, and he can just deliver simple yet decimating punches.  He is the only boss with 200 health and can regenerate at will. The fight will be very tough, and any mistake will be meet with a nanomachine fueled punch to the face.

Hardest thing about this boss – Trying not to get distracted by the awesome music. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

NUMBER 8 - Sage Kabuto (Naruto Ultimate Ninja Storm 3)

Ok, so the ultimate ninja storm games are not that hard. Most bosses are flashy but easy. Ultimate ninja storm 3 had perhaps the toughest bosses in the series, such as Zabuza, Madara and Tobi. However, in the secret chapter only available in the special edition do we get to fight Kabuto. Kabuto is tough, most bosses in the game have about 2 – 3 bars of health, Kabuto has nearly 10. Kabuto has a very wide variety of moves, combos and plenty of AOE attacks and other special moves. He has unlimited chakra as well, meaning he can spam his special attacks if he so pleases and can always rush towards and away from you. He is also constantly in his ultimate form, meaning his physical attacks are amplified. The only upside is that you get two characters to play as. The quick time events are not difficult and can give some reprieve from his overbearing nature. I would regard him as the hardest boss in the Naruto game series.

Hardest thing about this boss – His elaborate attacks and boatload of health. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

NUMBER 7 – Vergil (Devil May Cry 3)

Vergil is the last boss and main antagonist of Devil May Cry 3. Vergil is Dante’s brother, and the two are always at odd ends with each other. Vergil sides with demons while Dante sides with humans. Vergil loves swordplay and detest guns, probably due to his brother’s fondness of guns. He is fought early on in DMC 3 where he defeats Dante. However, due to circumstances I wont cover here, he must fight alongside his brother to combat a bigger threat… Only to turn on him and have one final showdown. Vergil is as skilled as Dante; his swordplay makes in a deadly foe. He can use magic to attack at a range and he can quickly close in gaps of space and give Dante very little breathing room. Since he is also a son of Sparda and a half demon, Vergil has a demon form much like Dante. In his demon form, which he can activate multiple times, his attacks are even more powerful and its easier for him to land the deadly blows. Vergil has a lot of health and can even regenerate, albeit slowly, in his demon form. Eventually he is defeated and chooses to stay behind in the demon world. This choice does not work out for him, as seen in the original Devil May Cry. DMC 3 is a prequel by the way.

Hardest thing about this boss – How fast he can be. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

NUMBER 6 - Shao Kahn (Mortal Kombat 9)

I wont lie, this boss is perhaps the most brutally unfair fight on the list. Shao Kahn is the big baddie of the Mortal Kombat series, and in every game he is in, he is a cheap and overpowered boss. Of all the times I fought him, his appearance in Mortal Kombat 9’s story mode was the worst. You fight him as Raiden (not to be confused with Metal Gear’s Raiden). For me, Raiden was not a character I enjoyed playing as, but Shao Kahn made me improve my thunder god skills. Kahn knows every move you will do and will punish you for just about anything. His attacks do a lot of damage and your attacks do next to nothing. He can easily brick wall you (meaning he wont flinch) and knock you out of a combo. What’s worse is that you must beat him twice in order to truly defeat him. I nearly outright quit MK 9 because of this fight. I persevered, and after one grueling hour of rage, I beat him. He is not as bad in arcade mode, but he is still as cheap as dirt.

Hardest thing about this boss – WHY IS EVERY ATTACK SO BRUTAL?! ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

NUMBER 5 - The Nameless King (Dark Souls 3)

The nameless king is a secret boss in Dark Souls 3 and is often considered to be the hardest boss in the base game. After overcoming Archdragon Peak and reaching the end, you are met face to face with the supposed firstborn of Gwyn, the main god of the Dark Souls story. The battle starts with the king riding a storm drake. For this part the drake must be defeated first. It often flies high out of range and the king throws lightning and tries to slash at you with his spear. The dragon also breaths fire and tries to crush you with its body. After the dragon is slain, the king takes you on one on one. He is fast, hard to stagger and his moves can easily destroy you. The key is learning when to dodge his attacks. Blocking can get you destroyed so dodging is the best option. He does leave himself open often, but he has a lot of health and is quick to retaliate against aggression. If you die to his second form, you must fight the first form again. Also, he is the only bosses that must be defeated 3 times to get the platinum trophy… Thanks Fromsoft.

Hardest thing about this boss - His second form’s aggressive style and damage output. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

NUMBER 4 - The witch of the Lake (Salt and Sanctuary)

Of all the bosses on this special, from 50 to number one, this is the boss I despise the most. More than Shao Kahn, more than Dr. Robotnik and his beans, more than Carry Armor and its laser. This boss takes the cake for ultimate worst boss on this list. Salt and Sanctuary combines metroidvania exploration and platforming with the combat and learning curve of dark souls. The witch of the lake is a late game boss that punishes all types of players. She is the only boss I would consider blatantly unfair. All of her moves can easily one shot you regardless of level or armor. She attacks aggressively and tends to keep herself airborne so getting her into a combo is next to impossible. Many of her attacks home in on you and stretch out in such a way that dodging them might be downright impossible. Her one melee attack can send you flying and will also allow her to follow up with a magic attack to destroy you. This boss is downright cruel and serves as a roadblock for many players. The only upside is that there is a checkpoint right next to the arena.

Hardest thing about this boss – The relentless magic attacks. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

NUMBER 3 - Sephiroth (Kingdom Hearts 1)

Sephiroth is a recurring superboss in the Kingdom Hearts series, appearing both in kingdom hearts 1 and 2. While both incarnations are hard, KH1 Sephiroth takes home the gold. Sephiroth is the only opponent of the platinum match, and Sora fight him alone. Sephiroth has the highest health of any enemy in the game and also has some of the most damaging attacks in the game as well. He starts simple, slashing his large sword around for moderate damage. He will then start to teleport and summoning powerful fire based AOE attacks. He will use dark magic to attack Sora, chain together EXTREMLY long combos in a berserk rage. However, his two most deadly attacks are his meteor spell, which summoning huge rocks that damage on touch and render him invincible, and his heartless angel attack. The heartless angel reduces Sora’s HP and MP to 1. HE often follows up with teleporting behind Sora to finish him off. He likes to teleport out of Sora’s sight to use heartless angel, so mobility and awareness is key in this duel. Upon beating him, you are rewarded his journal entry, and in final mix you get a new key blade.

Hardest thing about this boss – His heartless angel attack and it’s follow up. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

NUMBER 2 - Darkeater Midir (Dark Souls 3: The Ringed City)

Darkeater Midir was for me, the ultimate challenge of Dark Souls 3. Every Dark Souls game has a DLC dragon. One had Kalmeet, who I destroyed on my first try thanks to my halberd. Two had Sihn, who gave me trouble but not nearly as much as the horrible boss immediately before him. Three has Midir. Midir is the largest ‘proper’ dragon in the series, and boy does he have the health to prove it. Midir has over 15000 hit points and insanely high defense, so in other words buckle up because you are going to be fighting him for a while. Midir is rarely not attacking, he has physical attacks that can hurt, fire breath that can destroy you…and a Godzilla beam that will obliterate all in its wake. As the fight rages on, he starts to even use abyss magic against you. Any error in this fight may very well result in a death. On top of all that, its only weak spot is its head. In order to cut the timer short and beat this boss in less than 10 minutes, you will have to risk fighting it directly. Calling for help may not be the best option, because it makes Midir’s ludicrous health pool even deeper.

Hardest thing about this boss – His extremely high HP and his devastating attacks. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- NUMBER 1 - The Orphan of Kos (Bloodborne)

Now, I know I have been using the word “aggressive” a lot in these past few parts. Pardon my redundancy. This boss is not aggressive, no, he is super-ultra-ultimate aggressive! The Orphan of Kos is the ultimate challenge in Bloodborne, a game all about fighting crazy battles, trading blows and going up against men, beast and even aliens in a weird Eldritch world. The orphan is the final boss of the DLC of Bloodborne. Fought on a beautiful beach, its hard getting settled while being bombarded by its screams at all times. This monster never lets up, he is always on the offense. Armed with a rather disgusting weapon, the Orphan speeds around and will make mincemeat of any hunter who dare approaches. If you have not mastered the art of parrying with a firearm in this game, you are doomed. He has high health, hardly flinches and has more attacks than I can possibly list. Any mistake will result in you getting obliterated, and this is only the first form. After taking enough damage, it will grow gross fleshy wings and become even faster! While in this agitated state, it hits harder and can even take to the sky momentarily to divebomb you. If you are half a second off with any shot, you will be punished. This boss also has several damaging AOE attack, however, its lightning one can give a hunter a moment to breath due to its long animation. This is a boss where absolutely no mistake can be made. Due to this, I consider the Orphan of Kos to be the pinnacle of boss difficulty. There may be harder bosses down the line, perhaps when I get around to playing Nioh or the other Ninja Gaiden games, but the Orphan deserves the gold medal.

Hardest thing about this boss – EVERYTHING! HE NEVER STOPS! ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wow, so thats it.We made it. Thank you all, you made this possible. Our next multi-part special will be at 50 followers! So see you then! A final, huge shout out to @savannahsunstone for being my best friend for the last six years and for introducing me to tumblr. Had it not been for them this blog would not have existed. So a raise of the glass to one of the best gamer that I know!

[sprawozdania1671]

Izrael - Kraj Laickiej Wiary - Racjonalista

Men in masses and the men of the masses, being guided solely by petty passions, paltry beliefs, traditions and sentimental theorems, fall a prey to party dissension, which hinders any kind of agreement even on the basis of a perfectly reasonable argument. 10. Is it possible for any sound logical mind to hope with any success to guide crowds by the aid of reasonable counsels and arguments, when any objection or contradiction, senseless though it may be, can be made and when such objection may find more favor with the people, whose powers of reasoning are superficial? Now that Providence has brought to the light of day these secret Protocols all men may clearly see the hidden personages specified by Disraeli at work „behind the scenes” of all the Governments. These are the surest spreaders of licentiousness into the lives of the leading men at the heads of nations. The blind cannot lead the blind without bringing them into the abyss; consequently, members of the mob, upstarts from the people even though they should be as a genius for wisdom, yet having no understanding of the political, cannot come forward as leaders of the mob without bringing the whole nation to ruin.

The idea of freedom is impossible of realization because no one knows how to use it with moderation. Weizmann knows all about them. 14. In any State in which there is a bad organization of authority, an impersonality of laws and of the rulers who have lost their personality amid the flood of rights ever multiplying out of liberalism, I find a new right - to attack by the right of the strong, and to scatter to the winds all existing forces of order and regulation, to reconstruct all institutions and to become the sovereign lord of those who have left to us the rights of their power by laying them down voluntarily in their liberalism. 1552. sprawdzian in Paris about 1790, in the time of Louis XVI. The second stage was in Rome in the time of Augustus, about 69 B.C.. They are not the „Board of Deputies” (the Jewish Parliament in England) or the „Universal Israelite Alliance” which sits in Paris. It is foretold that the Snake has still to finish its work, strictly adhering to the designed plan, until the course which it has to run is closed by the return of its head to Zion and until, by this means, the Snake has completed its round of Europe and has encircled it - and until, by dint of enchaining Europe, it has encompassed the whole world.

19. Only one trained from childhood for independent rule can have understanding of the words that can be made up of the political alphabet. Every resolution of a crowd depends upon a chance or packed majority, which, in its ignorance of political secrets, puts forth some ridiculous resolution that lays in the administration a seed of anarchy. 11. The political has nothing in common with the moral. And this is the „saying” of the Sages which Dr. 22. Behold the alcoholic animals, bemused with drink, the right to an immoderate use of which comes along with freedom. 8, 1920.) Now compare this with the last clause of but one of Protocol XI. Protocol III opens with a reference to the Symbolic Snake of Judaism. Such qualities must be the attributes of the kingdoms of the GOYIM, but we must in no wise be guided by them. 15. Our power in the present tottering condition of all forms of power will be more invincible than any other, because it will remain invisible until the moment when it has gained such strength that no cunning can any longer undermine it.

21. It is only with a despotic ruler that plans can be elaborated extensively and clearly in such a way as to distribute the whole properly among the several parts of the machinery of the State: from this the conclusion is inevitable that a satisfactory form of government for any country is one that concentrates in the hands of one responsible person. 16. Out of the temporary evil we are now compelled to commit will emerge the good of an unshakable rule, which will restore the regular course of the machinery of the national life, brought to naught by liberalism. Marsden means, not exactly the „body politic” but the entire machinery of politics. They reveal the converted plan of action of the Jewish Nation developed through the ages and edited by the Elders themselves up to date. WHO ARE THE ELDERS? Parts and summaries of the plan have been published from time to time during the centuries as the secrets of the Elders have leaked out.

Herzl gives an account of his first visit to England in 1895, and his conversation with Colonel Goldsmid, a Jew brought up as a Christian, an officer in the English Army, and at heart a Jew Nationalist all the time. In the year 1844, on the eve of the Jewish Revolution of 1848, Benjamin Disraeli, whose real name was Israel, and who was a „damped,” or baptized Jew, published his novel, CONINGSBY, in which occurs this ominous passage: „The world is governed by very different personages from what is imagined by those who are not behind the scenes.” And he went on toż show that these personages were all Jews. These learned men decided by peaceful means to conquer the world for Zion with the slyness of the Symbolic Snake, whose head was to represent those who have been initiated into the plans of the Jewish administration, and the body of the Snake to represent the Jewish people - the administration was always kept secret, EVEN FROM THE JEWISH NATION ITSELF. Greece, where, about the time of Pericles, the Snake first started eating into the power of that country. It is enough to hand over a people to self-government for a certain length of time for that people to be turned into a disorganized mob.