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haloud · 3 years

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things we could burn in one go (eminence) - chapter 11

also on ao3

Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Isabel Evans & Max Evans & Michael Guerin, Michael Guerin/Alex Manes, Forrest Long/Alex Manes Additional Tags: post-s2, Canon Compliant, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Starts Forlex Ends Malex, Other Characters May Appear, Tags Subject to Update, Mutual Pining, Breaking Up, Getting Together

Chapter Summary: Jones lets Michael in on a secret.

Excerpt:

He took a step back, but the symbols he’d touched continued to glow, burning into the surface of the pod. They pulsed, gold and fiery, for several seconds, before dimming, the colors of the pod pausing, like it was holding its breath.

Then it flickered; Michael yelled in shock as the symbols lifted from the surface, shimmering and gold and shaping themselves into a familiar-unfamiliar form.

A young woman, hair pulled back severely, wearing a stark-white uniform—at least, it looked like a uniform, almost like scrubs—looked down at Michael. The corners of her mouth turned down, a line formed between her brows that Michael saw most days in the mirror, but her eyes gleamed with some other, indefinable emotion.

Michael couldn’t breathe.

Thursday, 8:30 am

Wiping his hand across his forehead, Michael squinted down into the guts of the Acura that was his latest patient. An easy fix, the job should have been done half an hour ago, but Michael’s mind wandered mercilessly, pulling his eyes to empty space, turning his thoughts to white noise worse than the static on Sanders’s busted radio blaring out oldies from the office. With a final jerk of his wrench, he declared the Acura done and dropped the hood, pacing over to his water and taking a swig. The water did little to cool him off; he paced back to the next car of the day, popped it open, and immediately slammed it shut again with a frustrated sigh.

Fuck, he’d barely been here an hour; he had a backlog a dozen deep or more; what the fuck was wrong with him?

No breeze disturbed the air or lifted the heat, already heavy on the skin even in the early morning. On a normal day, Michael worked methodically in the peace, savoring the solitude, time slipping away under the satisfaction of skill applied and challenge met. No matter how much Sanders griped, Michael always got the job done and the customer satisfied, keeping the lights on, no matter how old and dusty they might be. But today, Michael couldn’t reach that meditative place; his skin crawled in the silence, and his teeth grit at every sound.

Walk. He needed to—walk, exercise off some of this nervous energy. He’d been cooped up after Jones, too long, his feet restless, buzzing all in his veins. It was too early for him to take a break without catching shit from Sanders, but he’d live; Michael would work late, maybe, after the strategy meeting, however long it took, to make up for it. Right now, he couldn’t stay, penned in by the junkyard fence, rattling around in it like a caged dog.

A mile in, Michael realized he had a direction. The buzzing inside him tuned to a frequency, and he followed it, a call sense-familiar, a call like the one that bound him to Max and Isobel and them to their pods, a full-body variation on the sensation of touching alien tech.

Shading his eyes, Michael pulled out his phone and dialed Isobel—nothing. No signal. Of course. With no way to know if this call resonated in Max and Isobel too, he couldn’t do anything but continue on into the desert, following a familiar heading. On foot, it might take hours. It might mean everyone coming to meet him and him not being there, everyone panicking, Alex, panicking. Could he really do that to them again? Reckless, irresponsible, selfish—but none of those thoughts penetrated past the ineffable signal, and Michael walked, to the source of it, the origin.

The cave, at least, dewed cool and refreshing, sheltered from the sun and sand. Michael’s lungs thanked it too, a sanctuary from the hot late morning filling them every step of his trek. Once inside, it was only a short distance to the pod chamber, where Michael stopped.

What the fuck? Like coming out of a trance, Michael whirled around to see the way he came, no memory of it but the body-memory of aching feet.

Nothing there. The pods shimmered on. They had no answers; they weren’t even asking him why he was there, though he asked them. Silence.

Michael crossed the cave and stood in the center of the triad. First, he touched the pod that held Isobel for their new life and held her against death, running his fingers along the cool, frictionless surface. Next, he caressed Max’s pod, and finally, he stood in front of his own, if he could call it a possession, and slid his hands into his pockets.

“Well, I’m here,” he said aloud. “What, did you need something? Spit it out.” He snorted.

“Michael?”

He flinched at the sudden noise, but turned on his heel as his mind caught up with his instinct.

“Max!” he called back. “Dude, what the fuck are we doing out here? Have you talked to Isobel—”

The entrance to the pod cave was short, barely a crevice in the rock that held this chamber, unlike the deeper mines and systems that dotted these hills. Sound traveled fast from the entrance, and so did feet.

It wasn’t Max.

“Michael,” Jones said solemnly, with a shake of his head and a cluck of his tongue. “It disappoints me to have to call you out like this. I thought, after the conviction you showed last time, that you’d return for another lesson.”

“Jones,” Michael replied, taking a step back.

“We could have walked here together; I have plenty of stories to tell to pass the time.”

“Why did we have to walk here at all?” Michael demanded.

“You may have experienced the joys of traversal, but it isn’t something to be done lightly. It takes a great deal of energy and mental focus and fortitude—”

“I’m not talking about walking,” Michael snapped, “I’m talking about here. Why am I here? Why are you here?”

“Well, call me curious,” Jones replied pleasantly, folding his hands behind his back as he began to circle the trio of pods. “I had such a small sample of the woman’s handiwork to study during my confinement, I had to see her stasis pods for myself. The craftsmanship is truly remarkable. Truly remarkable.”

He gave Max’s pod a condescending pat. Michael clenched his fists.

“Most pods have a tendency to decay or have a decaying effect on their inhabitants.” Jones continued his circuit of the pods, passing Isobel’s. Michael stepped to the side so they circled each other, unwilling to let him too close. “But the timed release on these specimens taught them to ration their energy, and here they are, close to a century after crash-landing. Remarkable.”

“Are you telling me my mother built our pods herself?”

“Built, engineered, programmed, grew…” Jones waved a hand. “All of the above. Don’t be so limited in your thinking; you know better than that.”

“You don’t know me.”

“Don’t I? I thought we were getting to know each other quite well. How has Max been lately?”

“Shut up,” Michael snarled.

Jones chuckled. “That’s no way to speak. I didn’t come just to monologue; I came to give you a gift.”

He stopped beside Michael’s pod, and Michael stopped when he did. The entrance to the cave was at Michael’s back; he should cut and run from this vantage and let Jones do whatever he wanted with the pods—but in the middle of the desert, where was he supposed to go? His phone still had no signal, and there was nothing for miles. It would be child’s play for Jones to catch him. Or Jones would wait until Michael was home, until he thought he was safe, and crawl inside his mind to pull him out again. Was anywhere safe? Could Michael be trusted now, or was Jones inside him, somewhere beneath his skin, a trigger buried beneath Michael’s jumbled memories of that day waiting to be tripped?

“When I first came to make my observations, something clever caught my eye.”

Laying a hand on the surface of the pod, Jones’s eyes gleamed as a symbol drew itself beneath his touch, the familiar three-pronged alien sigil.

“It was on the door to your cave,” Michael said. “We’ve seen it our whole lives. You know what it means?”

“Of course. But that can wait. Come closer.”

Michael stalked a few feet, still keeping a wide berth. As he approached, one side of the symbol burned brighter, a circle with a bold, askew cross within. Jones touched a few more symbols in sequence as they rose to the surface.

“If you had persevered through your ordeal instead of running straight to Max, you would be able to read this,” Jones said idly.

“That’s a funny way of saying ‘gee, Michael, sorry for the attempted murder.’”

“Apologize?” Jones still didn’t look at him, face impassive, barely a flicker of irritation passing across it. If Michael didn’t know Max so well, he would know nothing about this man at all. “What good is an apology? I told you before—pain is an excellent teacher. Of course, there are those who disagree.”

Then it flickered; Michael yelled in shock as the symbols lifted from the surface, shimmering and gold and shaping themselves into a familiar-unfamiliar form.

Michael couldn’t breathe.

“I hope you never hear this, darling,” Nora said. Or—she didn’t speak, but Michael heard her all the same.

She said, “I hope the journey goes smoothly and we land softly in a new life, and my attempts to find some kind of goodbye can just be deleted like a bad dream. But I’ve been having a lot of bad dreams, baby, and I can’t let this go without a contingency.” She huffed a short sigh. “So here I am.

“You’re sleeping in your room right now. You know its your last night in your little bed, but I’m not sure it’s sunk in exactly what that means. Is it wrong that I’m glad for it? I don’t want you to be afraid. I never want that.

“But if you’re seeing this, it means I’ve likely already failed on that front, so what is there to say except I’m sorry? I’m so sorry, baby, if you’re seeing this. I love you so, so much, and I’m so sorry. I don’t know how to tell you how much I love you without holding you in my arms—these words, these feelings, they aren’t enough. Nothing I say could be enough. But baby, just know that you are the only thing in my heart. Your brilliant mind, your big heart, you are so wonderful, and having you in my life has been my life’s greatest blessing. No matter what, I know you’re out there—even if the worst comes to pass, even if you’re out there alone, even if you come to hate me for abandoning you, any word with you in it is worth saving, no matter what else has been destroyed.

“I love you, I love you, I love you, my son. I’ll love you even more tomorrow, for every day we’re together and every day we’re apart. Goodbye, and goodnight.”

Nora’s form reduced to gold once more, sinking back into the pod, and the silence that followed sucked everything in with it, sucked the air straight from Michael’s lungs. The whole world blurred behind his eyes, his left hand clawing over his chest, over his racing heart, his mouth working to find the words, words his mother hadn’t even known in the much more primal language of thought and emotion sown softly directly into his mind.

He'd felt, all these things, all those emotions she spoke of, hand to hand, through the grime and glass, condensed into one split-second, the atom before the bomb. The love, she’d poured it into him, a vessel too cracked and flawed to hold it. Would having words put to it help him understand? Lyrics to the harmony and melody?

“Touching,” Jones murmured.

“Shut the fuck up,” Michael said, voice cracked to pieces.

“What? I mean it. A mother’s love. No force like it in the world, wouldn’t you say?”

Jones began to circle again, approaching Michael.

“That love brought you here across the stars. Would you like to thank her? Or condemn her? She left you the burdens you bear, after all.”

“It’s not her fault the military locked her up and tortured her!” Michael shouted, a boom to his voice that shook the cave around them, shedding dust like the old days, when Michael’s rage moved furniture and shook art from the walls and moved minds to thoughts of hellfire.

“You really don’t hold a grudge? Not even in the slightest?”

“Why do you care? You hated her, right? Because she got one over on you, she got Max away from you. And she outsmarted you again here on Earth.”

At that, Jones sighed. He took a step closer, and this time Michael stood his ground, his mother-made pod at his back. Jones’s eyes shone glassy in the low, shifting light.

“Thank you, Michael, for that eloquent declaration of your loyalties. I’m disappointed in you, but it does uncomplicate things.”

He flicked his hand and Michael flew across the cave, head slamming sickly into the wall, like Michael had flung Jones when he fled from him the last time. As the world swam and a hot trickle wound down the back of Michael’s neck, Jones approached leisurely.

“See, for a sec, I thought the soft approach was working on you, Michael. I thought my charm was still good, even after all these years. You want to learn. You want the knowledge, the understanding. You want to stand in the light of the truth. Don’t you?”

Michael spat, and Jones ground him a few feet up the wall, his back scraping stone inch by jagged inch.

“So loyal. So dedicated. There is so damn much of that woman in you, no matter what kind of taint this rat-hole planet has left you with, human.”

The word oozed off his tongue like a slur.

A sneer on his face, Jones continued, “I hope it gives you solace while it can. I know it has a certain soothing effect on my own guilty conscience.”

“You’re fucking insane!” Michael gasped out. He flung his mind at every loose object around him, but nothing budged, his powers weak and fickle and inadequate.

In rage, they’d never failed him. But beneath his placid face, in Jones was something stronger than Michael, stronger than rage. But not stronger than Michael’s mother; not stronger than Nora Truman; not stronger than her by any other name she may have claimed in languages Michael would never speak.

Jones wasn’t stronger than her. So Michael would find a way. She sacrificed too much for him to give up now.

“Even on this life-forsaken psych-dumb wasteland planet, you have to understand that there are crimes and there are punishments,” Jones seethed. His composure was cracking, the man they’d first met in that cave pushing through the veneer he’d constructed over the months he’d been among them. He didn’t wait for Michael to respond, ranting on, “She stole from me. Ran from me, a fucking pirate! She stole my healer! My people! My heir. She had no right! And, not content in her flagrant audacity, she put me in a fucking hole in the ground! There are crimes and punishments. But she is beyond me now.”

Michael’s back lifted from the wall and slammed down again. He groaned as his vision went gray and his stomach heaved.

“She got what was coming to her. A fitting enough end, destroyed by the world she thought would hide her. But how can I be satisfied without a little vengeance of my own? Now that I’ve seen her message, my path at last is clear. You’ll do.”

The invisible iron bars pinning Michael six feet in the air disappeared, and he slumped to the hard-packed floor, air sawing through his chest, ribs screaming with every wheeze.

“Wouldn’t she be proud to see you now,” Jones murmured, and everything went dark.

When Michael came to, the world swam dim and gold into view, and squinting and wincing it took him a full minute to absorb his surroundings. He was slumped on the ground beneath the ladder of his workshop. Every bone and muscle ached; every breath seared inside him and ached its way back out.

“Michael! There you are. For a moment I was afraid in my excitement you’d gotten a little ahead of me,” Jones cried jubilant from across the room.

Staggering to his knees, Michael groaned, “Don’t fucking touch—how do you even—know this—”

“Either I plucked it out of your ripe mind when you offered it to me or I know someone who knows you,” Jones said. Something clanked as he tossed it. “Believe whichever, it doesn’t matter to me.”

He flung the tarp from Michael’s worktable, baring the console skeleton before his greedy eyes.

“This—” He laughed. “You truly are a marvel, you stupid boy. What I wouldn’t give for time and space to study you. Mold you. It’s almost a pity.”

“If Max is what you want, he’ll never forgive you if you kill me,” Michael slurred.

“Max is a piece of the puzzle. One piece,” Jones said. “And there have to be three. Or hasn’t anyone told you?”

Jones whirled away and went back to rifling through Michael’s papers, muttering to himself. Inching a little more upright, Michael craned his neck to look at the opening to the bunker, thrown wide, sunlight streaming down. He blinked in the sunlight piercing his pounding head, frantically trying to calculate the time. How close were they to crossing paths with everyone? Had Michael’s stupid wandering called the fox right in? Alex, Isobel, Max, Maria—

“I know, I know, no time to waste,” Jones said. “As entertaining as your little drawings are. We have things to be getting on with.”

With one hand, he seized the console, and with the other, he seized Michael, seized each of his organs in brutal turn, Michael sputtering and choking, writhing for relief that wouldn’t come, a beetle crushed beneath a boot.

“Let’s go somewhere we won’t be interrupted.”

#malex fic #my fic #malex #michael guerin #alex manes #mr. jones

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kathyprior4200 · 3 years

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Heavenly Boss Episode Four: D.I.A.B.L.O.

“Welcome the wackiest episode of the season! When Elves and Diablos clash over the fates of a fallen cherub trio, things sure do happen.”

Oh, hello. Docile here, welcome back to Heaven! I know things were a bit wild and confusing last time. Let me try and explain a bit.

Apparently the first Heaven’s blessing company C.H.E.R.U.B. had been under the guidance of one of my previous bosses, Kiva. I don’t know why anyone would approve of her, other than she’s famous for her singing in both Heavens. Instead of spreading faith and love, she wanted more fame and a chance to create her own world on Earth. She briefly used the cherubs’ powers to revive certain people on Earth and kill off others deemed “unworthy” in God’s eyes. There is a good reason why no one should bring back the dead. Even C.H.E.R.U.B. and my company E.L.F. know that would only cause overpopulation, war, and an alteration of history. It broke my heart when we had to reverse the damage Kiva had done. In the process, we freed C.H.E.R.U.B. from Kiva’s influence, Tirred from her influence and sent the dead back to the other side. We also had to erase the memories of the event from the mortals for obvious reasons. Thankfully, Deerie just straight up banished Kiva and her group…I heard they got arrested on Earth, but I have a feeling they may come back.

Tirred’s been experiencing a few struggles with getting over the event. He had given into his desire for more status and like many angels in Heaven, he tends to see demons as “lesser than.” He’s being monitored under supervision for a bit just in case, but I think he can fix up his attitude…mostly.

Recently, I got an update on how C.H.E.R.U.B. is doing. They had failed to save the life of a greedy inventor and were banished to Earth. I have a bad feeling that they’ll get corrupted in Hell and return for revenge against their I.M.P. rivals. I’m all for keeping I.M.P. in line to try and stop their horrible mass murders, but fighting fire with fire usually doesn’t end well. Although I think that indigo sheep, Collin, has the purest heart of the three.

So far, we’ve been doing business in Heaven as usual: record keeping on human life, plus spreading God’s words of good faith (and trying to leave out the bad messages of “ditch your loser friends who you can’t use.”) There’s a difference between leading cooperatively and leading selfishly. True leadership requires lifting others up as well as yourself. I guess our Heavenly Father doesn’t trust anyone else due to Lucifer trying to take His throne all those centuries ago. Paperwork is always tedious but it must be done. I know our business tithers between legal and illegal but we’ll deal with any consequences that may arise. My job is my passion and my employees are like my family.

Right now, my team and I are discussing some ways to meet and collaborate with C.H.E.R.U.B. I think they need some guidance on properly interacting with humans. Plus, I think Sunna and I are tempted to give those cute cherubs some hugs. Truthfully, I hope we can get to them before they “sink further down,” if you catch my drift. Ideally, C.H.E.R.U.B. could stay on Earth and continue protecting humanity. Or we could provide them sanctuary in our Heaven. The first option seems more likely due to both Deerie’s rules and interdimensional complications. It’s very rare for an individual to travel to the parallel universes…and Earth is in the middle of all the Heavens and Hells!

But hey, surely it’s worth a try, right?

Sunna was peacefully sleeping on one of the chairs around the smooth table at E.L.F. headquarters. The elves were seated in their spots with Docile at the head of the table.

“Alright guys,” he said. “This is a very important mission. With Lord Gabriel’s help, I’ve pinpointed C.H.E.R.U.B.’s location to be in a forest near a lake, not too far from that inventor’s old mansion.” He pointed to certain spots on a holographic map in front of them. “It appears they briefly stayed in a church for sanctuary last December and are now trying to stay low. Gabriel said they had been helping other humans in secret but haven’t gotten rid of their desires for acknowledgement, praise and material gains.”

“Hold up,” said Tirred with his usual yawn. “I thought that C.H.E.R.U.B. never asks for any fees.”

“That is true, but I’m talking about what they seek. The three cherubs were raised in a culture that values perfection, reward and the pursuit of happiness…”

Tirred coughed, “Americans,” which earned him a glare from his boss.

Docile continued, “Even Heaven’s citizens have flaws of their own. Selfishness exists in everyone, no matter how altruistic they try to be. C.H.E.R.U.B. knows that if they spread love, they can also feel good about themselves. But they always expect something in return for their work. Money, praise, God’s grace, whatever it is. The point is, they never help others just for the sake of doing so.”

“That actually makes sense,” Timmid added, brushing back her short white hair. “I wonder if they were so quick to collaborate with us because they just wanted us to promote their company.”

“Which is what we’re randomly doing instead of, you know…worrying about ourselves in our reality!" Tirred added, waving his hands for emphasis. “We shouldn’t have to care about some other cheesy company.”

Sunna happily mumbled “cheese” in her sleep.

“You have a good point Tirred, but this is different,” Docile elaborated. “C.H.E.R.U.B. may be from another realm, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t at least try to help them out. Remember that we help humans and angels alike when we can.”

“We can’t help everybody,” Tirred said. “Especially those humans and demons who…”

“We’re not talking about them,” Docile added, holding up a hand. “There’s no need to be a downer when I’m trying to spread light onto a dire situation here, okay?”

Tirred crossed his arms. “I’m helping you see the reality of things. The other angelic orders won’t approve of this. Especially since traveling to the parallel realms is forbidden!”

“And the reality is that we will continue on with this mission because it’s the right thing to do,” Docile argued, standing his ground. “It is our job to help those in need, no matter how bizarre the situation may be. So for your sake, I suggest you keep yourself in line.”

Tirred grumbled and backed away slightly. Docile sighed and straightened up.

“Plus, we aren’t traveling to the other Heaven. We’re going to Earth. That’s where C.H.E.R.U.B. is.” He glanced over at the large leather bound Bible that allowed them to travel to Earth. He didn’t know how much longer Azrael and Samuel would allow him to keep it, but hopefully a bit longer.

“Won’t we need disguises again?” Timmid asked. “Or Sunna?”

“I think we’ll be alright with going in our true forms,” said Docile. “But remember to lay low and stick together. After all, C.H.E.R.U.B. will be in their regular forms…might as well meet angel to angel.”

“Okay,” said Timmid.

There was a knock on the door, which startled Sunna awake. “Guys, do you hear that?”

“That was the door,” called Timmid.

Sunna walked over and opened it. “Hello,” she said as two men entered. One was short and fat, the other was tall and thin.

“Are those…supervillains?” asked Timmid.

“More like superheroes!” called the thin man. He had an elegant white mustache and white-gray skin. He wore a white top hat with a purple brim and old time glasses with purple lens. His suit was white with a large purple cross in the center, the arrow pointing up. His boots were purple and his cape was light blue.

The squat man beside him wore a white suit with thin blue lines on it with a beige collar. He wore a white bowler hat with a blue trim and white rimmed glasses with teal lens. His mustache was black and his skin was white-gray. Both men had halos and white wings.

“I’m Straight Nate!” greeted the thin man. “Craftsman of all things straight and narrow! This is my partner Kyle Kipton!”

“Nice to meet you both!” Docile said, shaking their hands. “How’d you get into Heaven?”

Nate explained. “I wasn’t always a young man. Kyle and I ran Kyle-Nate Tools, a local shop for farmers. Earlier today, we were giving food, eggs and farming equipment to the poor. We could’ve saved so many. We both got involved in our job and felt so much younger than before. It was marvelous! Turns out that Lyle Lipton’s anti-aging machine in his factory was sending out rays that turned us younger and younger by the day. Our customers soon grew suspicious when we suddenly appeared as children. Both of us were almost handed over to police. We raced toward Lyle’s place, hoping to get back to our normal ages. But before we could reach him, the mob had cornered us with torches and pitchforks. We refused to give them what they wanted and they…killed me. It was a miracle that Lyle’s machine secrets didn’t get out. Everyone believed the mobsters to be crazy. Thanks to some angel magic, no one else sought to be young again.”

“I died shortly after Nate,” said Kyle. “Almost thought about taking my life, but Covid 19 did that for me.”

“Sorry,” said Sunna.

“Brother bucking Covid ruins everything!” Docile spat.

“Wait,” Tirred asked. “If you turned into children, why do you look so…”

“Wise?” Kyle finished with a shrug. “Who knows? Age doesn’t matter for saints up here. We stay the same age as when we died on Earth like the sinners do in Hell.”

“Well that story was a load of rubbish,” Tirred scoffed.

“Don’t be rude,” Sunna chided.

“It’s alright,” Nate said. “Kyle and I are trying to figure out what do to next now that we’re in Heaven. I wonder if there are any farms around that could use our help.”

“I’ve never heard of farms in the sky before,” Kyle said.

“Well Heaven has a whole society like Hell does, so schools, farms, houses, pretty much anything from all time periods exist here,” said Docile.

“Have you heard of the Canadians?” asked Sunna. “They are anti-cannibals, against eating meat in all forms. A bunch of French-speaking vegetarian cultured folk. A bit eccentric. They make the best maple syrup and host the best air hockey games. You know, literally in the air…”

Nate rolled his eyes. “People are so quick to judge these days.”

On a nearby television screen, a commercial showed a dark teal skinned elf wearing a black outfit and a black hat, twirling a cane. “Are you looking for work to make solemn stories and formal films? Well call me at Sully Sirius’ Serious Idea Studios, where you can create art and get rich! The one who makes the best creation will receive two free tickets for Woo-Hoo Land! But still…I have standards for heaven’s sake!” A brief clip showed Sully selling holy water bottles at the theme park.

“Wierdo,” muttered Kyle.

“Well, I wish you two the best of luck up here,” said Docile. “Thanks for stopping by.”

“Anytime,” said Nate. Nate and Kyle waved goodbye before exiting out the door.

Docile turned to a winged cherub deer.

“You think we’ll succeed in our mission?”

“Yeah, oh yes, yes, yes!” Doe-Doe trilled genuinely, typing notes on an IPad while wearing yellow overalls. “Go beyond the rules and you do you! Yeah!”

0 0 0

Docile, Tirred and Timmid stood outside in front of their headquarters building, the heavenly sky shining down above them. The white building and the golden wing designs attached to it shone brightly in the light. Tirred briefly glanced enviously beyond a wrought iron golden gate toward the direction of the silver Holy City surrounded by glowing halos. Timmid took a deep breath and flipped through the Bible until coming across a passage to create a portal to Earth. After she chanted and drew a teal blue sigil with chalk, a gap opened up. A fearful Timmid led the way through, while Docile and Tirred followed.

The trio arrived at the vast meadow surrounded by forest trees and the shining lake. The sun shone brightly in the sky while a few white clouds dotted the horizon. Several birds chirped on nearby hanging branches, while brown squirrels and rabbits hopped along the grassy plain.

Docile sniffed the air deeply and sighed. “Nature truly is a wonderful thing. There’s something so genuine about Earth that makes it so…vast and beautiful.”

Tirred rolled his eyes. “Heaven will always be the superior place. It has marvelous light, gold, angels and the Almighty of course.”

“But the living world is unique in its own way. It’s the birthplace of all the saints and sinners. They make up the majority of the afterlife. Without this place, Heaven and Hell alike wouldn’t function the way they do now. No technology, no flare, no diversity. Our current worlds today are what some mortals call a “melting pot.” Different ingredients tossed together into one societal dish.”

“Blast, boss! Enough with your metaphorical mumbo-jumbo,” Tirred sighed, briefly tugging his pointed ears in frustration. “Do you even realize what could happen if we meet with other beings too long? Reality itself…”

He imitated an explosion.

Timmid laughed a bit. “Who’s spewing mumbo-jumbo now?” She playfully elbowed Tirred. “Relax, Tir. Docile knows what he’s doing. It’s risky but it’s for the greater good.”

“Greater good, my ass,” he muttered.

“If you wanna get your good ass kicked, then be my guest,” Timmid wiggled her eyebrows playfully as Tirred turned red in the face.

Docile summoned his golden staff and slowly moved it in the air in front of him. The staff tip briefly glowed when he aimed it at a lower part of the hill. He spotted something small and white flying in the same direction. Docile mentioned for his coworkers to follow. They headed down the hill until they arrived at a white park bench. There were some passerby walking their dogs or chatting on their cell phones. Several women pushed strollers around, while a child tossed bread crumbs for the ducks. The paths were lined with streetlamps and red rose bushes.

Just then, Docile spotted a flying boy and two winged sheep sitting close together on a bench. No one seemed to pay them any mind.

“Bingo!” Docile grinned.

The periwinkle sheep Collin sat and examined the park. The yellow sheep Keenie straightened up her yellow dress and red bow. Cletus sat in the middle in his reddish overalls, looking bored. Several white feathers fell off their wings and their halos flickered.

“I don’t understand,” Cletus said dejectedly. “We’ve done all we can to make amends. We’ve saved people, gave them advice, and lived among the humans. Why can’t we go back?”

Collin sniffed as tears started to trickle down his face. “Why can’t Deerie let us back? We were doing so well in Heaven. Our clients and the humans were always grateful for the work we did.”

Keenie stamped one of her hooves. “It’s so not fair! Deerie didn’t even give us a chance. She just sent us here to suffer and rubbed it in our faces!”

“If only that filthy imp leader didn’t blind me during the battle,” Cletus scowled. “Killing Lyle was just an accident. I was this close to eliminating them on the spot!”

“Killing is a bad thing,” Collin mentioned, straightening up. “Our job is never to kill, but to save and spread love!”

“Like I said before Collin, you still joined us in shooting at our rivals,” said Cletus. “Eliminating the threat is sometimes necessary.”

“We also have Exorcists for a reason,” Keenie added. “To eliminate all those shitty sinners and keep both Earth and Heaven safe from them. Those Hell table scraps are just as bad as them, if not worse!”

“W-w-whatever happened to ‘thou shalt not kill?’ ’Love thy neighbor?’” Collin asked, flying up and staring hard at his companions.

The cherubs hovered in the air.

“Those demons aren’t our neighbors,” Cletus told Collin.

“I know that, but still, we could’ve at least taken the fight outside the opera theater! Oh and maybe saved that singer, too.”

“When the imps were in the way, right there?” Keenie asked. “We had to watch over Lyle, too.”

“We had to save his life at any cost,” Cletus said, leaning in.

“B-b-but we didn’t, didn’t we?” Collin finished. “We all played a part in our fate and now in a few days, we’ll be down below facing our worst nightmares!”

Collin broke down into hysterical sobs, as Keenie wrapped him in a hug. “Oh Collin…”

The cherubs flew off toward the open meadow, leaving the park behind and looking around.

Just then, E.L.F. made their entrance in front of them, floating down gracefully on white wings in their own beams of sparkly light. Docile was in the center, Tirred to his right, Timmid to his left. Spiked white halos hung over their heads. C.H.E.R.U.B. stared quizzically at them.

Keenie glared. “Go away, demons! We’re tired of seeing you in your silly costumes!”

“You here to m-m-mock us some more?” Collin asked in anger.

“We come in peace…” Docile began, but didn’t finish. Cletus let out a combination of mournful cries and yells to the sky, causing the nearby humans to glare at them and scatter away.

“You won’t get away with this, I.M.P.! You’ll pay for what you did to us and the humans you slaughtered!”

Cletus finished his cries when a sudden force knocked everyone backwards. They straightened themselves up in the air. The ground broke apart and a column of red, orange and yellow flames shoot up from the opening.

E.L.F. and C.H.E.R.U.B. looked in wide-eyed terror at three small shadowy figures hovering forward through the flames. Three shadows with glowing yellow eyes.

“You seek revenge and are thirsty for blood?” came a low choir of voices.

The flames vanished, revealing a demonic trio. A pointed tail, sharp yellow teeth, a clawed hand holding a black Satanic book...

“We can help satiate your desires…”

The leader appeared, looking like a twisted version of Cletus. He had teal fluffy hair and pale white skin, his teeth sharp and yellow. His eyes were large and yellow with white sclera. He was chubby like Cletus but instead of angelic wings, he had small black bat wings with long red fingers within the flaps. He wore a dark blue undershirt, a black shirt collar and teal colored overalls, plus brown boots. Two reddish orange horns curved down to meet his chin. He put away his black Satanic book.

The corrupted Collin counterpart took the appearance of a bulky anthropomorphic yellow ram. His furry hooves were tan colored with sickly yellowish tips. He wore a wine colored red suit with a black bow tie under his thick neck. His undershirt was orange with an upside down black cross in the center. Sheathed under a black belt was a gun, a dagger and a few other weapons. His teeth, eyes and face were all a dull yellow, although a few black dots rested under his left eye. Ogre-like ears stuck out around his head of thick black wool. Protruding in curves from his head were two thick crimson-colored ram horns with little lines running down the surface. Little black wings held him in the air.

The last diablo was a blue anthropomorphic ram and Keenie’s dark counterpart. Her hooves were purple with dark green tips. Her dress was dark blue with a green bow around it. Her dress moved from blue to various shades of green and teal, becoming lighter at the ends. The hem of her dress was torn and gave the appearance of blue flames as part of the design. Black gloves covered her hands like an executioner’s. She grinned with yellow sharp teeth against a dark blue face. Her eyes had dark orange pupils, teal irises and white sclera. Her wild hair was a lighter shade of blue, moving like flames in the wind. Like her companions, she had black bat wings and curved red-orange ram horns. All the diablos could also grow pointed tails and retract them.

The leader sneered. “Surely you’ve heard of us. You saw our commercial, didn’t you?”

“What commercial?” Docile asked.

0 0 0

A large Leviathan monster opened its mouth wide, revealing sharp teeth, a long slimy tongue and a dark throat. The camera zoomed into the darkness before a red light appeared at the end of the tunnel. A bleak world with a red sky was revealed. A futuristic city in the distance was tall, black and metal: Sin City. The ground was black as was the grass. There was a pandemonium capital building not too far away along with a variety of shops set in a dystopian world: Tiamat’s Treasure Things, Kali’s Corner, Xenomorph Labs.

No Hazbin Hotel or I.M.P headquarters to be found.

A sign read “Diablo Den” and pointed down. The camera moved to show an underground tunnel with torches on either side. An entire subculture of demons lived down within the sewers and damp tunnels. Metal waterproof houses were situated under fluorescent lights on the ceiling. The leader popped up on the screen.

“Salutations! I’m Erebos! Welcome to Hell! Guess you must have done something evil to get here, and evil people deserve to give enemies special cruses!”

The jingle began, with organs playing.

“Does it make you want to yell?” asked Devvin, the yellow ram as a man was shown getting a promotion over a man dressed in rags.

“When an enemy ends up well?” asked Dammna the blue ram female as a rapist was pardoned from his crime.

“Do you frown from ear to ear?” sang Erebos as a man shot at several anti-LGBTQ protestors.

“When your rivals don’t shed a tear?” they all sang as a bully in a baseball cap laughed as a kid cowered in a corner.

“Locked up in a rut?” sang Devvin with a pose.

“A foe seeking your gut?” Dammna sang and posed.

“We can make them cold and dead!” sang Erebos.

“Even give you their head!” They all did villain poses.

“Cause here at D.I.A.B.L.O.!” they sang as “DIABLO” appeared in bloody letters surrounded by pitchforks and the trademark icon.

“We’re the masters of destruction from down below!” sang Devvin as Cletus shot fireballs at a barbed wire fence, allowing prisoners of war to escape. Devvin led the way as Dammna waved a flag with a pentagram and “B.U.R.E.H.C” on it.

“Cause here at D.I.A.B.L.O.!” they sang as the logo appeared again.

“Just name your price and we’re good to go!” sang Dammna as Erebos gave a greedy grin at a human handing him a bag of gold.

“Spreading sickness, chaos and hate!” Devvin sang as he and Dammna gave each other a high five with their hooves.

“History altered and fate!” sang Dammna as atomic bombs went off in reverse as clocks ran backwards and forwards.

“We do the dirty work for you!” sang Cletus as Devvin concocted a deadly virus and dropped it on coughing humans.

“And stirring up world wars, too!” added Devvin as Dammna whispered something in a soldier’s ear, resulting in two armies fighting on the field.

So sit right back…” sang Erebos before they all sang in discord, “…and let us curse a soul for you!”

“Oh, we are the D.I.A.B.L.O.!”

“How the primal chaos shall flow!”

0 0 0

C.H.E.R.U.B. and E.L.F. just stood there, stunned.

Just then, Blitzo, Moxxie and Millie entered through a portal onto the grass. Moxxie was trying not to fall, while Millie safely put away Stolas’ grimoire in a small black backpack.

“Alright gang,” called Blitzo. “Apparently someone wants us to kill that ginger-ass tour guide we saw last time. Looks like he’s at Lyle’s old house jacking off and snatching Lyle’s old possessions.”

Millie tried not to throw up. “This world is even crazier than ours!” Then she pulled out a dark sword and brightened. “Let’s keep on killin’ then!

“Sir, please don’t tell Lyle any of this,” Moxxie pleaded. “You know he’ll get mad if we fail this mission.”

“Oh I already sent him a text,” Blitzo grinned, holding up his phone. The text read “Off 2 kill tour intruder. Might want 2 sell ur stuff.” Moxxie face-palmed.

“I’m already tired and we haven’t even made it there yet,” Moxxie complained.

“Come on Mox, get your sweet imp ass moving,” Blitzo said. “We’ll be at his house before you can say…”

The three imps came to the clearing and froze in their tracks.

“Holy shit,” Blitzo breathed.

At that very moment, all twelve creatures divided in the four separate groups locked eyes with each other, some on the ground, and some in the air. The sky darkened to an abnormal shade of indigo, the ground suddenly warm to the touch. The air itself shifted from stale, to hot, to cold and back again. A strange energy crackled through the air, like any moment the earth would collapse underneath them. A stag with bloodstained antlers reared up his hind legs and raced across the forest as lightning flashed in the sky.

From inside the mansion, the tour guide and several people gazed out the window in awe through a telescope. The smiling man had the ginger bang over his eyes and wore a green suit and cap with dollar signs on it. He spoke too casually to the group as they took pictures on their phones.

“And now you’ll spot several groups of tacky super-powered cosplayers about to begin an apocalyptic battle! The feuds between famous people and ordinary folk is a sight to behold!”

0 0 0

“Who. The Fuck. Are They?!” Blitzo cried out, his voice echoing.

“Oh no!” groaned Moxxie, pointing ahead. “Those are the…”

“Imps!” Collin cried out, all three cherubs glaring at their rivals.

“Cherubs!” Moxxie finished.

“Diablos?!” Tirred asked.

“Elves!” sneered Devvin.

The intense stare-downs could have turned the universe upside down…which for a few moments, it did.

After several minutes of grueling silence, the first one to speak again was none other than Blitzo.

“Can someone tell me what the fuck is going on here?!”

Cletus crossed his arms. “I’ll tell you what’s going on! Because of you three monsters,” he pointed at the imps, “We’ve been banished to Earth and are this close to meeting our doom down in your filthy world!”

Blitzo just grinned smugly. “Welcome to Hell, baby. We hope you enjoy your stay.”

Cletus turned red in anger. “Shut up! We may have been banished from Heaven all thanks to you, but there is no way we’re going to end up like you!”

Erebos grinned and moved slowly toward the cherubs. “You sure about that?”

He spoke in a bone-chilling whisper that made even Cletus forget his wrath for a moment. “It’s clear that you’ll never be allowed to return to Heaven. Why wish for something you can’t obtain anymore? The only thing you can do now…” he mentioned in the direction of the imps, “…is take back what you’ve lost.”

Cletus glared at him. “I don’t need filthy demons to tell me what to do!”

“Of course you don’t,” Erebos mentioned. “Your company was just trying to do the right thing. Why should you let those monsters stand in your way again?”

“Stop!” called Docile. He flew gracefully in Cletus’ direction. “Don’t listen to that demon.”

“You’re one too!” Cletus seethed, flinching back.

“No, I’m an angel just like you,” Docile said. “That devil is trying to divert you away from your true path. Your company may have been banished, but you can still redeem yourselves and prove the other angels wrong! You’re already great at spreading positivity to those in need!”

“Ha!” Millie called. “Just like how you cherubs failed to save the life of that old man.”

“It was an accident, you emo slutty freak!” Keenie spat.

“The past is then,” Docile continued to Cletus. “This is now. You still have time to prove your innocence. I believe there is goodness in almost everyone.”

Collin flew up to the elf with wide shining eyes. “Y-y-you do?”

Docile wrapped an arm around Collin. “I know it. It’s there, even when all hope seems lost.”

Erebos snickered to Cletus. “You really gonna believe an inverted version of yourself and his subservient goblin fuck toys?”

The cherubs and elves gasped.

“That is so inappropriate!” Timmid called.

“Kiss your ass, sissy,” Dammna taunted as Timmid flinched away.

“Might wanna watch your words, blue bitch,” Millie growled to Dammna. “Just because we’re fellow demons, doesn’t mean I’ll let you pick on others like that.”

“What’re you gonna do about it?” Dammna asked with a sneer. “Sing a murder jingle?”

“My coworkers and I did, actually!”

“I thought your song was very catchy!” Devvin praised.

“Thank you!” beamed Millie. “Now get lost, wannabes!”

But D.I.A.B.L.O. was far from done. Erebos spoke to Cletus. “Anyway…that deer cherub who kicked you out…she knew that you would fall. God doesn’t tolerate mistakes…thus those in Heaven now see you as just that, mistakes. How does it make you feel?”

“Shut it, demon crap!” Keenie shrilled. She flew toward Erebos but Devvin held her back. She freed herself from his grip. Dammna flew beside Collin, who whimpered as she licked her lips.

“Face it…the other cherubs wanted you three kicked out. Because you founded an illegal company that prided itself on saving human lives. You were getting famous for…not following the rules. Jealousy arose.”

“How do you know all this?” Cletus asked.

“We have our ways,” said Erebos. “Angels and demons going to Earth is mostly illegal…you know, changing of history, trauma and all.”

He flew into Cletus’ face and the Cletus flinched back in disgust. Erebos made his way around Collin and Keenie as he talked. “You could’ve been good passive little sheep and stayed in Heaven. But you didn’t.” He ran a hand through Collin’s white wooly hair. “Because you wanted something more. Paradise wasn’t enough for you.”

He grinned sinisterly at Keenie. “You were tired of being looked down upon by the more favorable members of your kind. Always searching for a way so that your…”

He peered underneath her yellow dress, “…divine talents could be brought to light.”

Keenie gave him a hard kick to the face, sending him back a bit. He scoffed in pain and rubbed his eye before straightening up and heading back toward Cletus. “And for a while, they did. But look where you are now. Fallen. Forgotten. Forced away from your home.”

“He’s using you guys!” Tirred warned Cletus. “You can still protect humanity and earn God’s grace once again!”

“No matter what you try to do, you’ll never be able to return. Becoming demons is your destiny!” Devvin said with a dark chuckle.

“Listen to the elf angels,” Collin pleaded to his boss. “The demons are full of sin, but you know we can choose to not stoop down to their level. We can be better cherubs, improve our relations with humans.”

“Right after we get rid of all those stinking demons!” Keenie scoffed, hands on her hips. “If we want C.H.E.R.U.B. to survive…”

“Then I.M.P. must pay, right?” Dammna asked, finishing her sentence. Keenie found herself nodding, mouth agape.

“Hey, we can hear you!” Moxxie yelled, drawing out his gun. He shot it upwards but the bullet was blocked by Tirred’s golden staff. The bullet rebounded away. Moxxie stared at Tirred in disgust. “Man you’re hard to look at.” Tirred just observed him coldly.

“Forget about I.M.P.!” Timmid called to the cherubs. “Focus on redeeming yourselves. It’s the only way you can return home.”

“Help other people for its own sake,” Docile advised. “You don’t need praise or rewards to keep doing the right thing.”

“He’s right, Cletus,” Collin added. “Help humans move away from sin…and we will as well.”

“Ha!” barked Dammna. “Sin and flaws are present in everyone, even in little angels. It’s as natural as sex, eating, drinking and breathing. No one can resist the natural temptations…”

Blitzo grinned. “I’d like to see you try and take us out,” he told Cletus. “Afraid we’ll make you a laughing stock again?” Cletus fumed.

“I hope the Exorcists erase you from existence!” Keenie shrilled.

Devvin appeared beside Keenie. “Why call on them, when you can plan your revenge yourself?”

“Not gonna happen!” she yelled. Just after she said that, her halo flickered again. A small crack appeared on Cletus’ halo. Bits of feathers drifted from Colin’s wings.

“This is not good,” Timmid whispered.

Erebos grinned. “Only a matter of time now, cherubs! It’s time to begin your journey toward justice!”

Back and forth, overlapping words, advice, taunts and threats pounded against Cletus. He felt like his head was being crushed by two opposing hands. Cletus grimaced, looking back and forth and around. He squinted and closed his eyes, curling into a ball.

“The accident wasn’t your fault, boss!”

“Help bring back C.H.E.R.U.B. to its former glory!”

“You’re nothing but a crying baby and a failure. No wonder Heaven doesn’t want you guys.”

“Thy company come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven…”

“Your demonic destiny is here!”

“Give into sin!”

“Spread the love for here and above!”

“ENOUGH!”

Cletus spread out his arms and legs. The force sent many of the individuals back, but they quickly recovered. Lightning flashed in the sky as the battle began.

Although Blitzo, Moxxie and Millie couldn’t fly like everyone else, they made up for it by their array of weapons. Blitzo fired his tan flintlock pistol, the bullets rising in the air. One bullet hit Dammna’s hoof and she hissed in pain. Another grazed Timmid’s shoulder and she cried out.

Docile waved his hand and three golden crossbows appeared in the cherubs’ hands.

“It’s temporary,” he warned.

Wasting no time, Collin, Keenie and Cletus fired sparkly golden arrows from their weapons at the two demonic groups. Cletus and Blitzo fired rounds at each other, both of them expertly dodging the other’s attacks. Erebos laughed as Docile landed punches at him, which he kept blocking.

“Just as planned,” he grinned. “What a joy it is to see C.H.E.R.U.B. and I.M.P. duke it out.” The cherubs’ faces grew more vicious as they chased after the imps.

“Stop fighting, C.H.E.R.U.B.!” Tirred called in concern, but her words fell on ignorant ears.

Erebos landed a punch to Docile’s face and he quickly retaliated via a well-aimed uppercut. “You won’t get away with this,” Docile spat. “I don’t want to fight any of you guys but it appears I have no choice.”

Timmid screamed as Devvin suddenly caught her in a headlock.

“Ha! Surrender or she’s a goner!” called Devvin. Timmid struggled in vain against his grip. Docile glared as he aimed his staff at him, debating on what to do next.

Zing!

An arrow from Collin’s crossbow hit Devvin in the side, sending him screaming and flying off in the distance. He flew back in anger, but Timmid had already recovered. The cherubs’ golden crossbows vanished, the group now defenseless. Moxxie, Dammna, and Millie seized the opportunity to charge in, surrounding the cherubs. Timmid, Docile and Tirred blocked the path of the demons, holding them off with their golden staffs.

“I can’t hold them much longer,” groaned a strained Tirred to the cherubs. “Flee while you still can!”

“We’re not leaving you behind,” Collin said, determined.

Cletus tried to flee, but Dammna grabbed hold of him and tossed him right back with a chuckle.

Erebos arrived and smacked Tirred’s golden staff from his hands…he punched at the diablo’s chest in response. Docile landed several kicks to Moxxie, sending him stumbling to the ground.

“Moxxie!” Millie cried.

“I’m okay!”

Millie took out a black dagger and tossed it toward Timmid. She caught it and tossed it away. Cletus continued to dodge the bullets from Moxxie and Blitzo’s weapons. Keenie charged at full speed toward Millie’s head from behind her. She was just about to land a hard blow when…

A large hand grabbed her by the hair…Erebos, and tossed her hard toward the ground.

Crash!

“Y-y-you monster!” Collin cried.

Keenie growled as she stood up on shaking legs, wiping the dirt from her dress. With a swoop, she lifted herself up in the air before Blitzo could shoot at her. She finally rejoined Collin and Cletus…but the E.L.F. members were almost drained from the battle. The cherubs and elves stood battered and back to back against the surrounding demons.

Lightning flashed as several pairs of the angelic and demonic warriors went head to head. Millie was slashing her sword from underneath Timmid and Keenie, who were punching Dammna and pulling her long blue hair. Keenie slapped Dammna across the face while Timmid yelped as she dodged Millie’s weapon from below. Timmid summoned an angelic harpoon and clashed with Millie. They moved in a dance, metal against metal. The point of the harpoon barely missed Millie’s head. Millie leaped onto the harpoon and raced on it with her sword in her mouth. Timmid’s eyes were wide with surprise. She flipped over Timmid, grabbed her sword and swung it in an arch, knocking Timmid down. The angelic harpoon clattered softly onto the grass. Docile made it vanish with a wave of his hand.

Moxxie fired his gun and hit Devvin several times. He hissed as black blood ran from parts of his legs. “Get the sheep, you idiot!”

“I fight my own battles,” Moxxie retorted, as he dodged Collin’s punches and blasted Devvin’s revolver out of his hand with a well-aimed shot.

Collin and Tirred shared a look, then both swooped on either side of Devvin. With two hard punches to his face, Devvin plummeted to the ground. He glared at them from below as he slowly stood up and shook his head. Tirred tossed Collin out of range of Moxxie’s bullets before he got hit himself. He gasped in pain before landing on the ground to recover. He winced and glared at Devvin. Moxxie rushed at him, but Tirred shoved him back with a force from his golden staff.

Docile, Erebos, Blitzo and Cletus were going head to head as lightning lit up the sky around them.

“Take this, you fucker!” Cletus yelled as he grabbed a nearby rock and threw it toward Blitzo. The rock exploded from Blitzo’s bullet. Another bullet hit one of Cletus’ wing tips, making him stumble in the air. Docile straightened the cherub with one hand as he twirled his staff against Erebos in the other. Erebos flapped his bat wings menacingly. The ground shook below as more cracks appeared. I.M.P. moved to higher ground, gazing at the red lava below in the ground. It created a demonic red glow near the ground. Black blood poured from the demons’ wounds just as white blood flowed from the angels’.

Timmid stood up and flapped her white wings, glanced around in terror. “We have to stop fighting!” she screamed over the yells and the noises of war. “We’re going to destroy the Earth!”

Timmid suddenly screamed as Dammna smacked her on the head from behind. She plummeted to the ground, with Keenie catching the dazed angel and carrying her to a safe spot.

With ear-shattering yells, Cletus and Erebos rammed into each other, as did Blitzo and Docile. The leaders pushed against each other with all their might, as forces from their attacks shook the area. The demons’ horns grew longer and eyes appeared on the angels’ wings. Cletus and Docile glowed blue and white while Erebos and Blitzo glowed red and black. Docile’s harpoon spear pressed against Blitzo’s flintlock pistol. They all seethed and gave each other deadly glares.

Before long, the cracks and forces would spread to the rest of Earth. Heaven and Hell would collapse, the Earth being the final battleground and resting place…

The explosions knocked everyone back, sending all the creatures crashing to the ground. The forest had been burned down to timbers and steam was rising from the lake. Lyle’s mansion had been blasted apart to smithereens…yet the soot covered crowd still took pictures as the tour guide spewed his ever optimistic commentary. His hat was lopsided and he kicked broken glass away.

“One of the Lipton family heirlooms is this golden money bag statue which was gifted to Lyle in the early 1970s. And it’s still standing…”

The tour guide glanced down to see the statue littering the ground in pieces. “…or it was. I call dibs!”

The battle had been an intense stalemate. And all seemed lost as the ground prepared to swallow everyone in the lava and magma.

The dark clouds swirled in a spiral vortex before slowly parting. Sunlight shone from a circular patch of blue sky. The shaking and the yelling stopped. The cracks in the earth fused together and the world slowly got brighter like it did before. The Archangel Michael arrived from the opening, along with the cherub Deerie by his side.

Blitzo helped up his colleagues. “I think we can call this mission a successful failure.”

Millie supported Moxxie. “What about our target?”

“Forget about him,” Blitzo said. “And forget about those cherubs too. They’re done for.”

The imps looked over at the barely stirring cherubs on the ground.

“Well, looks like we won again,” Moxxie said. “Though we really need to tone down all this fighting.”

“Yeah, I’m tired and could really use an iced coffee right now,” Blitzo said. He took out his green “mare-juanna” horse figure and kissed it. “I knew this lucky charm would come in handy. Let’s go gang!”

The imps grinned and high-fived before disappearing through the portal to Hell.

Michael hovered in the air in all his glory, supported by broad white feathery wings. He had pale skin, blushes on his cheeks, and short blonde hair like his fallen brother Lucifer. A sword made of flames was tucked protectively near his belt. A glowing spiked white halo hung over his head with a crystal in the center. He wore a white suit and tailcoat, while several medals and badges shown from the front of his outfit.

He bore a stern expression on his face as the other groups slowly recovered.

“Four interdimensional companies fighting in the one world to cause the most damage to mortal lives. I’m ashamed at all of you. You were lucky that no more humans got hurt.” Michael briefly glared at the cherubs and diablos.

The cherubs and elves bowed their heads in apology, while the diablos looked on.

“I ask that all of you head back to your worlds immediately. If I ever catch you fighting here again, I’ll erase every one of you from existence. Are we clear?”

“Yes sir,” chimed the six angels.

“Lord Michael,” said Cletus, lifting his head. “The demonic imps have already left. And those diablos are the ones who started all this!”

“Please Lord Michael,” said Docile. “My company came here on behalf of the importance of C.H.E.R.U.B.’s protection. I humbly ask that you reconsider their previous errors and allow them a chance to…”

A rumbling sound was heard and cracks appeared in the ground again. Two gaping holes appeared in the ground. One of them shoot fire into the air.

“There’s our cue,” said Devvin to his companions.

Dammna grinned and pointed toward the cherubs. More cracks were forming underneath them, soon creating another hole. Erebos and his gang flew into the cherubs’ faces. “Have fun in the inferno!” cackled Erebos and his crew before they flew into the column of flames and down below. The ground closed over the portal and the flames disappeared.

Deerie laughed nervously at the frightened cherubs. “Yeah, no sorry guys. I’m afraid your test on Earth has come to an end and…well, yeah there’s only one place to go now.”

“Noooo!” the cherubs cried, huddling together.

To the horror of the cherubs and the elves, the fallen trio was starting to change in appearance. Their white wings turned stiff and black, the last of their feathers falling to the ground. Small leathery bat wings grew in their places. Their white halos cracked and fell to pieces in front of them. Keenie frantically tried to piece hers back together. Collin gasped as he held the pieces in his hooves. The halo pieces stopped glowing, fading to a stony dark gray. Keenie buried her pale face in her hooves…hooves that were now morphing into sharp claws. She screamed out loud as she clawed at her face.

“Lord Michael, do something!” begged Docile. But the archangel stood solemnly in the air, shaking his head.

The cherubs’ teeth soon grew sharp and white, cutting into their tongues and making them bleed. Their outfits changed from cheery pastel colors to bold fiery reds, oranges, pinks and yellows. Cletus clutched his head in pain as two small pointed horns protruded from his ginger head. The other cherubs also cried out, clutching at their newly formed horns stained with blood.

The ground collapsed underneath them, giving way to a deep hole with a reddish light and a portal to Hell between the rock walls. Lucifer’s curious grinning face appeared in the opening.

The cherubs felt themselves being pulled back by a powerful force toward the portal.

“No, no, no, no!” Cletus cried. “This can’t be happening!”

Keenie shouted out prayers to God, begging for his forgiveness. Collin wailed and bawled as he hung onto the grass for dear life.

Docile, Tirred and Timmid raced toward the cherubs.

“There’s no point in rescuing them,” Deerie said, flying in front of them. “Unless you troublemakers want to join them.”

Docile promptly punched the doe in the face before making his way toward the struggling trio.

They each placed their right hand on the cherubs’ foreheads as light shone from their teal hands. Tirred placed his hand on Collin, Timmid’s hand was on Keenie and Docile had his hand on Cletus.

Docile chanted in the Enochian angelic language and said: “I bless each of you with a chance to find the light. No matter where you are, it is hope you’ll never lose sight. You will find one person or more, who’ll help you along the way. And after discovering your true righteousness, you’ll return home someday. By the will of the Lord, so may it be.”

E.L.F. removed their hands and the light faded.

“Bye!” Deerie happily waved toward the cherubs before vanishing through the heavenly portal.

Timmid grabbed Keenie’s hands and pulled with all her might. Keenie’s face turned pale, her yellow dress now torn in the appearance of wildfire. The helm of her dress was red and spiked, her horns now black and curved like those of Charlie’s goat bodyguards. She had black bat wings and a pointed tail. Her wooly hair was red and her eyes were pink and yellow…before they gave off a strange red glow.

Keenie sneered at Timmid, only seeing the red face of Millie laughing at her.

“Get away, you disgusting demon!”

Her voice sounded like her own but more distorted.

“I’m not…” Timmid began but Keenie slapped her in the face before falling with a scream into the portal below.

“Keenie!” cried Collin, briefly staring down at her disappearing form. “I don’t wanna die! I don’t wanna die!”

Cletus had horns and black wings as well, though his face took on more of a faint reddish tone. His overalls were red with teeth designs on the pocket. His hair was red and black and darker blushes appeared on his cheeks. His pointed tail was short and red. His eyes had red irises and golden sclera.

He looked at Docile, only seeing Blitzo’s face. He revealed his new grin of sharp white teeth and glowing red eyes. “This isn’t over, I.M.P.!”

Timmid and Tirred pulled with all their might, but Cletus was soon sucked in as well.

Collin glanced at the elves with bloody tears running down his face. His eyes were golden and pink, sometimes glowing red. He had curved goat horns, a pointed tail and black bat wings. His face was almost a tan-red shade and his wooly hair was black. His outfit had changed to a red-orange.

The three elves pulled, Tirred being supported by Docile and Timmid behind him, but Collin stayed in the same spot, his hooves dangling over the chasm.

“Sir!” called Tirred, as the elves were dragged inches closer toward the gap, even as they dug their feet in. “We’re being sucked in!”

“L-let go,” Collin whimpered.

“What?!” asked Tirred.

“You can’t let yourself fall!” Docile cried, tears welling up in his eyes. “We were supposed to save you guys…to help give you another chance…” The elves were almost at the edge.

Collin and the elves stared at each other in the eyes.

Collin took a deep breath as he thought of his friends.

“I-I-I’m sorry…”

With one last wide-eyed look, Collin let go of Tirred’s hands and vanished into the darkness. The elves weren’t getting pulled in anymore, rather they were pushed back a bit. The portal to Hell closed, and the ground in front of the elves sealed back together like nothing had happened.

“Why?” Docile asked Michael, turning around.

“C.H.E.R.U.B. set themselves up for their fate. They gave into their anger and were more focused on defeating their rivals instead of properly interacting with the humans. They still disobeyed the rules thus were sent to Earth to test their faiths. Alas, they gave into their selfish desires of revenge and pursuit of glory. One can now only hope that they'll redeem themselves in Hell…if they even survive that long. As for you three, remember my words of warning.”

Michael rose back into Heaven and vanished.

The three somber elf angels slowly rose up into the air and went through another heavenly portal back to their world. Back in paradise, Docile had never felt more alone. He gazed out at the colorful clouds through a window.

Docile didn’t even look at his coworkers. “Welp, the cherubs wanted to redeem themselves and continue their company, and we couldn’t save them. We failed. Thanks to those freaking diablos, they’re down in Hell now, so it’s a shame. All they wanted was to spread love and joy to the living world. And now, they’re separated from Heaven…potentially forever.”

Tirred grumbled. “Don’t say I told you so, but…I told you so.”

Timmid gave her boss a small hug as the three silently gazed at the clouds and sunlight.

From behind the elves, Sully Sirius did a small grin. He whispered, “Now this would make for a spectacular tragic film, don’t you think?”

Docile glumly turned his head all the way around, while his body stayed in place. “Please leave.” Sully looked at him and screamed in fright.

#helluvaboss #2p #heavenlyboss

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hedwigstalons · 4 years

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High Expectations - Ch14

Ok, I really threw myself down a chasm of angst over the last few chapters. That, plus dealing with family stuff, absolutely killed my creativity with this. Thankfully after slotting in some one-shots for variety I got back on it and now, maybe a little later than I would have hoped, the next chapter is ready for you.

The wonderful @willow-salix helped haul me out of the angst chasm and yet again put up with my wobbles.

Earlier parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen

AO3 chapter link

Chapter Fourteen

Jeff entered the apartment to find all three of his resident sons sprawled on the couch, Alan snoring gently against Scott’s side while the older two talked in low voices. The two who were still awake fell silent as he entered, twin stares turning on him at the intrusion. The animosity directed towards him was perhaps well deserved he reflected, his actions maybe hadn’t been worthy of the respect he had always insisted upon.

“Evening Scott, Gordon.” He raised an eyebrow at the scene; it was late and Alan should have been in his own bed not drooling into a blanket. A look of disapproval was clearly evident in Jeff’s features and Scott was keen to deflect it away from his brothers.

“He didn’t want to go to bed and I didn’t have the heart to make him. He’s been out of it for a while though, as soon as Gordon gave him the blanket he was gone.” With Scott home and Gordon not shutting himself away in his room Alan had been reluctant to head off to bed. It was clear that the youngest sibling had been lonely as he clung to the human contact.

“I didn’t realise that still worked.” Jeff found himself caught in a flashback to a much younger Alan being swaddled in the same blanket at the farmhouse to make him sleep.

“Yeah, well, he used to try and stay up and wait for you to get home after we moved here. If it got too late I’d get the blanket out then carry him to his room once he crashed. He’s lighter than what Coach had me lifting.”

So that was how Gordon had known it would work Scott mused. As soon as the clock had ticked past Alan’s bed time and the teenager had shown no signs of moving without a fight Gordon had dug out the old fleece blanket to ‘help him get comfy’ and within minutes the snoring had started. Gordon had even had the foresight to make Alan put on his pyjamas and clean his teeth before the trio had settled in on the couch. He wondered just how many nights that small blonde form had tried to wait up in the hope of seeing their father only for the man not to appear until long after bed time.

“How come you’re so late back. Is everything ok?”

“This isn’t late” Gordon butted in, “it’s pretty normal for Dad.”

“Dad?”

“The business needs me.”

“But it’s nearly 11 o’clock.”

“You boys were ok though. You could have called me if I was needed.”

“Would you have answered? Like you said, it’s late, I’d better get him off to bed.” Scott sensed more tales untold in Gordon’s weary response.

With Scott still pinned under his sleeping sibling Gordon completed the last stage of the maneuver he was evidently well practiced at. Despite his lack of recent exercise he was still able to easily slide his arms under and carry the youngest Tracy off to his own bed.

With that settled Scott turned to his father.

“So you’re never back for bedtime?”

“I get here when I can”

“And how often is that?”

No response. To Scott the silence was more telling than any answer. So that was how it had worked; Jeff would stay out at the office until goodness knows when and Gordon would take responsibility for ensuring Alan was fed and in bed at a reasonable time. It was horribly similar to his own teenage years except he had always had Virgil at his side; Gordon had taken on that role from a younger age, in an unfamiliar city, without sibling support and all while keeping up with his swimming training. No wonder he could display a maturity far beyond his years when needed, the last four years had been a trial that Gordon must have excelled at seeing as none of them had realised what was happening.

“After all this and you still call Gordon a kid; are you really that blind? He’s more mature than you give him credit for. Looks to me like Gordon has been more of a Dad to Alan over these last four years than you have and you weren’t much of a parent before that; it was sink or swim for Virg and I and it looks like you’ve done exactly the same to Gordon. It’s just as well he is such a good swimmer, isn’t it.”

Scott’s berations, carried out in hissed undertones, were cut off by the return of Gordon.

“He didn’t even stir” Gordon reassured them as he re-entered the room, “and now I ought to head off too. Goodnight Dad. Goodnight Scott.” Gordon had been enjoying catching up with his brother but the return of their father had soured his mood and now he just wanted to escape. It was also impossible to miss the daggers in the looks Scott was giving their father and he had no energy to deal with another argument.

“Gordon, wait.” Accompanied by an audible sigh and eyeroll Gordon paused and turned at the direct request, hoping whatever it was would be over swiftly. “Before you go off to bed I just wanted to let you know that I’ve been in touch with my lawyers. I’m going to get those text books changed; just because something is factually accurate that doesn’t make it right. And Gordon, no more keeping secrets from me. If I had known I would have got involved sooner”

Gordon nodded his acknowledgement but couldn’t go quite as far as voicing thanks, after all the books weren’t changed yet. His father was also still conveniently ignoring that it hadn’t been a secret at the time, he had just refused to listen to Gordon.

After Gordon had escaped back to his own sanctuary Scott rounded on their father.

“No more keeping secrets; that’s rich coming from you. So does this mean you’re going to tell them your grand plan.”

“Not now Scott, I’m tired and it’s been a long day.”

“Yeah, well it’s been a long day for Gordon too. You’ve got no idea what goes on here, do you. He deserves to know.”

“He’s just a child.”

“There you go again, he is NOT a child and hasn’t been for a long time. You need to wake up and start seeing him for who he is, both of them. You’re just lucky Alan still worships you but when Gordon gets in to WASP…”

“IF he gets in.”

“WHEN, because trust me I will do my damned best to help him get there. When Gordon gets into WASP just who do you think will be there for Alan? There won’t be anyone left to make excuses or cover for you. Unless you step up and start being an active parent you are going to lose Alan just like you are losing Gordon. Now if you will excuse me it’s late and I promised I would take Alan to school in the morning.”

Scott spun on his heels and strode out the room leaving a stunned Jeff in his wake. The older man stood there for a moment before heading to the cupboard and pulling out a bottle of single malt. The measure he poured was rather larger than usual in deference to the trying day he had had.

Retreating to his favourite armchair in the now deserted lounge, scotch in hand, Jeff reflected on the events of the day. Dealing with lawyers always gave him a headache even if he was the one who had initiated contact. The Department of Education had tried to give him a similar brush off to Gordon but Jeff hadn’t got where he was in life by giving up at the first hurdle. To find out that Lucille’s death was read out in classrooms up and down the state had been a shock. That moment was private, a personal tragedy, not something to be critiqued in the story of his meteoric rise to fame.

Lucille.

What on earth would she make of all this? He had always told himself that he was doing what was best for their children, but was he, really? Virgil and John seemed to be doing okay and he’d never had any concerns about Scott. Well, until now that is. The son he had earmarked as his Field Commander seemed to be pulling away from him, no longer willing to follow his direction.

And what about the youngest two? He realised with sadness that he barely knew Alan. He knew Alan was doing well at school, he would soon have picked up on it if his grades slipped, but he didn’t know his son’s likes and dislikes. The fact he attended senior science club wasn’t much of a surprise, all of his sons except Gordon seemed to have a flair for the sciences, but if you had asked him where Alan went on a Wednesday he wouldn’t have known the answer. Had this needed another permission form that Gordon dealt with?

Which left Gordon. The son who had a world record to his name but hadn’t been to the pool in weeks. The son who could have been offered a commission in WASP but was instead flicking through the prospectuses of third rate universities. If ever there was a damning indictment of his parenting skills it was Gordon.

The first glass had been drained in an instant and he poured a second measure. Jeff swirled the amber liquid around the tumbler, watching how it caught the light from the lamps and seemed to glow.

Gordon.

He tried to think back to that first move to the city. With both Virgil and John packed off to university it just left him and the little ones, except Gordon was now no longer the little boy, barely a teenager, who had been transplanted from the wheat fields. Somewhere along the line the little boy had grown up. The little boy had been forced to grow up because he had been so used to his sons working as a self-reliant unit that he hadn’t thought to step in again as the older ones moved away. And now, four years down the line, Gordon was on the brink of adulthood and he hadn’t even realised. Seventeen but carrying responsibilities way beyond his years.

Jeff thought back to himself at seventeen with his future all mapped out in his head. Yale and the Air Force were calculated stepping stones to enable him to complete astronaut training; a dream he had committed himself to despite his father’s wishes. Oh yes there had been arguments there, blazing rows in the farmhouse kitchen with the father that wanted him to take on the family farm. His fledgling relationship with Lucille had been a godsend in that tempestuous period and had provided him with a bolt hole when it all got too much trying to defend his choices.

Yet here he was seemingly treating Gordon in the same way he had resented all those years ago, the only difference being he was forcing his son towards university instead of agriculture. Would it really be so bad if Gordon skipped out on tertiary education? He’d only gone to university himself because it was a requirement of the World Space Agency rather than because he had any particular fondness for further study. Gordon had picked a career, a solid career, that didn’t require a university education and he was denying his son that freedom of expression due to his own skewed ideals. He didn’t even know if Gordon had a girlfriend to comfort and counsel him through these trying times; probably not, where would he have found the time around caring for Alan?

Maybe Scott was right. Maybe he had seriously underestimated his fourth son. It was time to look beyond the mediocre grades and instead start seeing the child, no, the young man he corrected himself, who showed such devotion to his family that he had tried to single-handedly take on the Department of Education because he knew in his core it was the right thing to do.

Doing the right thing. Such lofty ideals were part of the reason why he hadn’t noticed what was going on under his own roof, he’d been so absorbed in the project that was to be Lucille’s legacy. Yet seemingly the son he had most overlooked was the embodiment of what he was trying to achieve; compassion mixed with determination. Gordon’s Olympic win definitely showed the determination, you don’t become a champion without focus, drive and a dedication to hard work. Maybe WASP was the right place for Gordon. The aquanaut service would keep him physically stimulated and Gordon seemingly possessed a mature and caring side that would be suited to the peacekeeping ethos of the organisation. The world needed aquanauts.

Possibilities began to flow and spark in Jeff’s head. His organisation, his dream, needed pilots, engineers and astronauts, perhaps his dream also needed an aquanaut. Most of the planet was covered in the oceans and it was a gaping hole in the capabilities of the outfit he had planned not to be able to undertake aquatic rescues. In the same way he had seen the possibilities in the paths the eldest three had chosen perhaps WASP could provide the training foundations for Gordon. If Gordon were to enrol in WASP then by the time the rescue business was ready to commence operations his fourth son could be a fully qualified submarine pilot ready to join the ranks among his elder brothers. Adding the skills of an aquanaut would allow him to help save many more families but in order for that to happen first he needed to fix his own and repair the gaping chasm between him and the son he had wronged.

By the time Jeff made it to his own bed that night the level in the scotch bottle was considerably lower and his lofty visions considerably higher.

xoxoxox

The apartment was bustling the next morning. Alan was moaning about having to go to school while first Gordon and then Scott chivvied him out of bed and made sure he had all his books for the day. It was a similar scene to that which had played out the day before although Jeff hadn’t been there to witness it having left early for the office as usual.

“Do I really have to go in?”

“Yes, you do. Dad would ground you for a month if he found you skipped school.” Gordon was stern and unmovable.

“But Scott…” The pleading was switched from one big brother to the other

“We went through all this yesterday Alan” there was an exasperation in Scott’s voice that could only be dragged out by a young teenager, “I’ll be here until at least Monday so we’ll have all weekend together. You are not missing class just because I’m here.”

“But you will be there after school, won’t you?”

“Yes, just like we were yesterday. Now will you please just eat some breakfast, we have to leave soon and I don’t want you going to school on an empty stomach.”

Jeff stepped into the doorway and the three sons around the counter froze at the unexpected movement.

“Alan, eat your breakfast. Your brothers are right, you need to get moving.”

The peanut butter bagel Alan had been nursing started to be gulped down at an indigestion inducting rate. All moaning, in fact all conversation in its entirety, stopped in favour of heading out the door as swiftly as possible rather than incur the wrath of Jeff. For him to be at home on a week day was out of the ordinary and the boys were not inclined to stick around to find out why. Within minutes he was left in an empty apartment after giving the eldest two a stern instruction to come straight home once Alan was in school.

Savouring the silence Jeff made himself a large coffee and awaited the return of Scott and Gordon. The caffeine injection was definitely needed, he had been up until the small hours with thoughts chasing round his head and when he did finally drift off his sleep had been troubled. Thankfully his diary for the day had been mercifully scant, the few appointments easy to rearrange. Jeff was not a man to shy away from problems but it had been a shock to realise that the biggest problems were under his own roof and of his own making.

He had barely finished the cup when Scott and Gordon returned and joined him in the lounge. Neutral territory.

“Boys, we have a lot to discuss.”

“We do?” the skepticism radiated off of Scott. Talks with their father were generally too one-way to be considered a discussion.

“We do. But please, hear me out first.”

Gordon and Scott perched side by side on the couch, presenting a united front. Their expressions were stony, clearly expecting another example of their father laying down the law. Jeff took a deep breath. He’d always had an unshakable self-confidence; when facing the cruel realities of space or facing down a boardroom that self-confidence had carried him home safe and seen him through difficult situations. Now his faith in his own abilities, his abilities as a father, had been shaken. The silence in the room seemed to create a vacuum, a void that needed filling.

“I...I’ve not been around as much as I probably should have. Initially, when your mother first died, I threw myself into my work. I had to work hard to keep the family together, keep a roof over our heads and food on the table. The business was young then and times were tough. I don’t have that excuse now.”

Their current situation was a far cry from the early days of borrowing money and hoping the risks paid off. Looking back he should have realised he wasn’t the only one making sacrifices but grief and the scotch had clouded his judgement. As time wore on his use of a liquid crutch had lessened but he had still buried himself in his work, still relied on his sons to hold the fort and keep the home fires burning. But worst of all he hadn’t even realised they were doing it. He had forced his sons to grow up quickly, he shouldn’t have been surprised when they started to spread their wings and go their own ways.

“No, you don’t.” Scott wasn’t going to make this easy. All he’d heard so far was thinly veiled justification for neglecting them all, neglect that had carried on long after the debts were repaid.

Jeff steeled himself for words he’s never thought he would have to say. “I’m sorry. I should have been there.” He received a half-nod from Scott but Gordon wouldn’t even meet his eye, his own mistreatment still too raw and fresh for him to accept the apology. Jeff plunged on. “So Gordon, tell me about WASP.”

Gordon’s head snapped up. “What do you want to know?” The voice held an undertone of venom and suspicion.

“For a start I’d like to know why you want to join up.”

“Does it matter what I want?”

“Believe it or not, it does. Please Gordon.”

“I’m not cut out for college, you must be able to see that.”

“You’d be fine if you’d only put your mind to it.”

A glare from Scott prevented him from commenting further and Jeff had to bite his tongue to remind himself that this wasn’t just about him any more. He’d resolved to give Gordon his chance to explain.

A reassuring hand on Gordon’s shoulder from Scott gave the younger sibling the confidence to speak out. Soon the words he had been bottling up tumbled out and Jeff witnessed an enthusiasm that had long been absent. Gordon had had plenty of opportunity to think on what he had been ripped away from since being dragged out of selection. Jeff sat there and watched as Gordon spoke with passion about teamwork, new skills, that chance to be active, to help people and to protect the environment.

Jeff waited patiently until the words dried up, pausing to let it all sink in before responding. Everything his son had said, particularly the desire to help people, resonated strongly with what he himself wanted to achieve. Everything he heard cemented the decision he had made the previous night to allow Gordon to join WASP with a long term goal of his son becoming a rescue operative.

The two sons watched him from the couch, awaiting his pronouncement like prisoners awaiting sentencing. It pained him to see the mix of hope and fear tinged with an edge of resentment that graced Gordon’s features; he really had made a mess of things but it was time to start making amends and putting things right.

“Okay Gordon, I’ll support you in joining WASP as I should have done from the outset. I ask one thing though, that in the meantime you work with me to gain your pilot’s licence. Your older brothers could all fly by your age and there is a good chance you will need those skills before much longer.” Jeff met Scott’s eye and gave a half nod, an acknowledgement of his son’s request for no more secrets. “You see Gordon, I’m looking at moving soon and for very good reason…”

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #high expectations #Jeff Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Scott Tracy #changing opinions #respect

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reviewer-bot32 · 4 years

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Stray Thoughts on Mother 3

I have finished my second Mother 3 playthrough so here are some stray thoughts on it.

-I wish Flint had a stronger presence throughout the story. Chapter 1 does such a good job establishing his character that it feels really odd to have him gone for most of the game.

-I’m curious if the two figures depicted in the forest prayer sanctuary are referencing the Dark Dragon being awoken with either a light or dark heart or implying the existence of a Light Dragon along side the dark one.

-I find it interesting that Lucas and Claus were found in the river next to Aeolia’s house, yet the only place higher on the map we see the river is next to Drago Plateau.

-I feel similarly about Wess as I do Flint. He’s a major player in the first half of the game only to spend the second half on the sidelines.

-I love the aesthetic of Osohe Castle and I wish Chapter 2 had more intrigue surrounding it. I found more flavor text about the castle on my second run that I honestly wish wasn’t skippable.

-Actually chapter 2 felt jarringly light on story. I noticed it a lot more on my second run. While I do think it makes sense, this chapter serves as levity between the somber tone of chapter 1 and the harsher tone of chapter 3, I was nevertheless a little offput by the tonal shift my second time through.

-Butch and the Villagers is an underrated song.

-Chapter 3 is probably my favorite. I think it’s the chapter that takes the most advantage of the whole “chapter” structure. Also I really love the music.

-Chapter 4 felt surprisingly short on my second run.

-Of the DCMC music, Bon Voyage, Amigo is my favorite.

-Chapter 5 is my least favorite chapter. This is where I felt I had to do the most grinding. I also feel it stands out the least among the chapters, it has too much tonal overlap with chapter 4.

-In terms of overall narrative structure I see chapters 1-3 as the first act, chapter 4 and 5 as act 2 and chapters 6-8 as the act 3.

-I think the setup of the penultimate chapter being an anthology is really interesting and unique. It runs the risk of throwing off the story’s pacing right before the climax. Thankfully the chapter has enough to interconnect the various vignettes through the Masked Man and the Franklin Badge.

-The Chimera Lab is my favorite of the vignettes.

-It’s a real shame Kumatora doesn’t get her chapter. I think she deserved one.

-Going back to Drago Plateau in chapter 7 feels really unnerving.

-I’m indifferent on the return of the Mr. Saturns. I don’t think they mesh completely well with this games tone compared to Earthbound.

-I admit, I had to look up the strategy for the Barrier Trio.

-I’m actually a little disappointed in the behavior of the villagers once their in New Pork City. They’re not nearly as caught up in the glitz and glamour as I thought they would be. They all seem pretty reasonable and skeptical of the place.

-I’ve wondered a lot about what the original darker version of the script could entail. While the unused concepts for the final boss are the obvious example, I want to talk a little about Leder’s speech. Given the quotes I’ve read from Mr. Itoi, I’m gonna guess that originally, the reveal of the apocalypse revolved more around connecting the world of Mother 3 to the world of Earthbound. I was a bit confused when I first read those quotes, talking about betraying the player, that something would really upset people, how people would find this world strange and later find it horrible. After giving it some thought, I think he was referring more to Mother fans. Fans would feel betrayed. Fans would find this world strange, in relation to the first Mother games, then find it horrible because, not only was the world of Mother 3 revealed as a fabrication, the world they had come to love previously had been destroyed. The final version keeps the end of the world vague, so it’s easy to assume that the world of Earthbound lived on the a long time before the end. I imagine the original script would have gone into more detail and thus would have been much more grim for fans.

-Also, it would add more weight to Porky’s little Earthbound museum, making it seem more like an Earthbound memorial. You can still read it that way but it’s not as pronounced.

-I feel like the trek up the Empire Porky Building goes on for just a bit too long. If there’s any part I would cut, it would be the construction site.

-Flint showing up out of nowhere only highlights how little presence he’s had throughout this story since chapter 1.

-I have seen the unused backgrounds for the final boss. Personally I prefer the final version, I feel those backgrounds would have been too distracting. I get the sense that the backgrounds were supposed to give the player a sense of Claus’s perspective but I feel like that takes away any sense of tension. By keeping things in Lucas’s perspective, the situation feels more desperate. I also feel like letting the tragic context speak for itself instead of emphasizing it with surreal horror-esque imagery is more in line with the rest of the game, which is driven more by context than surrealism, unlike Earthbound.

#mother 3

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blaster-aichi · 4 years

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Cardfight!! Vanguard Extra Story IF 14 things

links lead to images posted on discord because this post is already far too absurdly long, have too many thoughts, what a rollercoaster ride this was

Shuka’s opening a gateway into the past beneath herself and Emi indicted Link Joker Gate flashbacks because of its appearance

If it wasn’t demonstrated prior to this episode, it’s apparent how Aichi is far more malicious than any incarnation of past (i.e. his soldiers ready to maim or straight up murder Emi and Shuka , having Kai-kun abducted; whether either was 100% intended to occur the way they did is anyone’s guess)

Miwa as a Sanctuary Knight: there’s two points to this — it’s an astonishing turn as he was part of the Mates during Legion Mate — the season which many people have acknowledged the parallels to — but working beneath Aichi turns that on its head as well as the implication that Aichi’s force was concentrated around the Miyaji Cardfight Club, as well as giving a fifth member to his faction in similar vein to Kourin of Legion Mate. — it splits up the Kai/Miwa/Ibuki trio down the same lines as Ultra Rare; Suiko and Ibuki being firmly aligned with Emi while Kourin and Miwa fall under Aichi’s command. Rekka and Kai-kun would serve as unaccounted for, though it’s more clear-cut in his case, as Rekka made her appearance and her allegiance known at the same time as Kourin entered the fray, as well as already fighting on the side of restoring the timeline to its proper state before Suiko was pulled into activity. — and it was foreshadowed right before our eyes when they announced IF 14 would be centred around Kai-kun.

"Whenever I hear the name "Toshiki Kai”, for some reason, I get chills”. It’s a strange statement with his behaviour later in the episode, seeming to recognize and feign friendliness with Ibuki and Kai-kun. The only possibility can think of for this line is Miwa, like Aichi and Emi (and the rest of the Sanctuary Knights), is his Outside World self pulled into IF World and his memories tampered with, he might be privy enough to his relationship with the other two for the sake of his act when meeting with them.

Kai-kun hugging Ibuki with no restraint. Rena down. Fuck that’s so soft.

9 years of being dead or arseholes who abandoned their child, we get Mama and Papa and the whole family is adorable! Mama Kai and Shizuka would get along so well, they’re two peas in a pod aaaaa — Toshi also pointed how out the Kai family love of curry persists to this day and god bless.

me last night on call with Courtney: “There has to be a reason why Aichi hates Vanguard specifically just because of not meeting Kai-kun. It wouldn’t be any more significant than literally anything else. Hey, Aichi, why not hate rock music instead or something?” Kai-kun’s room: this kid loves rock, how dare you

Said room also makes it feel like the show is saying Vanguard/Aichi ruined Kai-kun’s life as opposed to, you know, his parents abandoning him. Bushi no—

It took just his name. That was it.

The static within the audio around Aichi is a neat touch when there feels to be a theme of glitching in the ED and it isn’t as though either reality is “wrong”, just distorted.

Just how they go about instilling memories of Aichi in comparison to Legion Mate is fascinating. In Legion Mate, the Mates were able to cleanly remember as their fights progressed and able to accept that Aichi existed prior to the season; we don’t know the extent of the changes to their lives as a result of his disappearance, but here is a different story. Kai-kun’s entire life has been altered as a result of the distortion and he isn’t able to simply see Aichi in his memories and realize that someone is missing from his past, and it takes a toll on him for these conflicting memories from another life to present themselves to him.

One has to wonder what Shizuka is going through in regards to Aichi vanishing, but also what Kai-kun’s parents must think if they were to investigate the commotion coming from his room suddenly to see him and everyone else gone and the disarray left from just how they left.

IF being the seemingly most lighthearted season with the darkest cliffhanger (topping even Link Joker and Legion Mate, because nothing comes to mind that could honestly match this), even if we know they would never dare kill off Kai-kun but the insinuation for the characters that he could be dead is chilling, particularly when they consist of his childhood friends, young girls and the root being a boy seeking him out, whose intentions around it we don't know and whom we've seen destablize (albeit in another continuity) when it comes to Kai-kun, so imagine the ramification and what it could do to his state of mind (or Ibuki, Miwa, Emi and Shuka’s, for that matter) if they really did play with the idea of killing him off.

Horizontal Oath

God bless this ED, it’s so good

There’s a lot in here about the clashing realities around Kai-kun and it’s nice to know the season isn’t overlooking the incredibly weighted implications of putting him in this position.

The fire spurning to life, while a nice nod to his usual choice of Kagero an its absence in his current life, could also be representative that, while he has many hobbies in his IF life, Vanguard is where his passion truly lies above all, as he grips it and contemplates the people who should be around him.

Emi, Ibuki and Miwa occupying the same spots in the frames they exist in is a neat choice.

Kai rushing towards the light/Blaster Blade only for the card to vanish as his fingers nears it screams of midpoint Legion Mate where the Mates finally got a glimpse of Aichi, to hear his own request that they give up. As the preview shows them in the same location, it’s possible 15 will serve as the first, failed attempt to bring Aichi back to his senses and force the group to pick themselves up and try again in the same way the Leon episodes served in Legion Mate, signified by the repeated animation usage when Kai-kun runs towards Blaster Blade a second time.

The price Kai-kun is going to pay is not being overlooked. To restore the timeline, it’s apparent that he’ll have to sacrifice his IF life and parents, inflicting unto him the anguish of his original Manga/Reboot continuity life and the hardships that came with it The darkness that emanates from his younger self and the glimpses of that original life as he kneels demonstrates that, while he might accept that outcome, it’s not about to be an easy task, understandable. — Initially had suspected from the preview for 14 that this issue might be raised with him and he would reject erasing everything he knows and have to be brought around to the idea, but the ED actually refutes this, as he faces everything head-on. — In doing so, it speaks to his character and the strength to allow this incredibly high price, as by relinquishing everything he knows, he’s able to regain the friends he made through Vanguard even with the knowledge of the pain and strife that he’ll endure and allow Emi to have her family back, even at the cost of his own. — Additionally, as the shot closes in on him and he yells/roars, it appears he could be in pain from having to surrender this version of himself and his life; but ultimately does so as he fades while Dragonic Overlord becomes the more dominant face, signifying his reclaiming his Vanguard and his original life.

This resolve to allow the timeline to be returned to its rightful state also comes through beneath the starry sky that corrects itself, with Kai-kun standing at the back of Emi’s group, the only one of them fated to disappear by setting things right. Though the camera continues on past him, towards the light that grows brighter and consumes everything — perhaps a symbol of the corrected timeline taking hold — he doesn’t so much as glance back, but looks ahead to the sky, even with the reality that he and his world will be no more.

[2012 Fanguard voice] Bench-chan lives on.

Numerous people in YouTube comments remarked that Horizontal Oath amplifies the Legion Mate atmosphere and its emphasis on Kai-kun whilst doing so is notable. As that was his journey to bring Aichi back and the current is Emi’s, the shift in tone with this new ED and new arc incorporating him heavily is a nice reflection of that when the OP remains the same. — There is an implication, though, that Emi might start to fall back from the protagonist role, as she appears far more passive in the ED while Kai-kun stands front and centre. When the two of them and Shuka are standing in a field, Emi’s feet are surrounded by shade, and when looking to the sun, she stands on the edge of the formation, seeming far more distant. At the same time, Shuka is on the other side, both of the group as a whole and Kai-kun specifically, with her back to the others. Her guilt has been an enormous factor since the truth of her actions came to light and how they weigh on her, but this feels as though her attention shifting away from Emi and towards Kai-kun as a means of atoning for her mistake. — Going to be hopeful that they can balance what Aichi means to Emi and Kai-kun in similar vein to Kai-kun and Naoki of Legion Mate, so that they both share an equal part in the fight going forward.

IF 15

Thank goodness, we’re getting answers about Aichi, Takuto and the Sanctuary Knights, let’s go.

Aichi pointing a sword at Ibuki and (Kourin) opening up a fissure beneath the both of them — and right in front of Kai-kun — is a stark contrast to the Aichi(s) we’ve known until now, as how he was seen by Kai-kun was something of great importance to him, but depending on the context of the scene, it’s apparent that this version of him gives no fucks about anything of the sort.

Something that’s been on my mind within the last week is that, aside from the scene in the forest when he was acting seemingly normal, Aichi’s right eye is never detailed beneath his visor, or even when he overrode Majesty Lord (typically, his hair doesn’t completely conceal his eye while in a unit). The theories that came to mind were heterochromia, like Voidkuto, a permanent Psyqualia glow or it’s completely blank in typical possession/brainwashed fashion (or some sort of visual cue pertaining to the fact that a great deal is off about him) but by putting on the airs of normality, he was able to mask it as a normal eye when meeting with Shuka.

#Cardfight!! Vanguard #Cardfight!! Vanguard IF #cfv spoilers #long post #jokes about this being an essay then spends well over an hour writing good job me

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fluffynin · 4 years

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I'm still alive. Just things have been... I don't know how to explain it considering how badly the 2020 train has derailed and turned into a hell of a mess. Finally stuck at home after two weeks in and out of the hospital due to my gallbladder instead of doing my job at a feed store during all this mess. Hence the lack of updates on my side.

However, be it due to the meds I am or just the IBS caused by my gallbladder acting up now gone along with all the aniexty and paranioa it was causing... My lovely Fellswap Pastel has morphed into quite something new and finally settling into something I cam actuly work on... As a bloody tri-cross, but it actually makes sense, to me that is, with the direct it took, especially since it takes the tones of PMMM Magia Record and brings it to an Underground that got its freedom and bitter as it the cost was not worth the price as monster kind has become basically ghosts to human kind after their world was remdered to shreads and Mt. Ebott's barrier allowed the Underground to land safetly into another world.

And went on a tangent with how free my ideas and such are flowing. However, might with being stuck on recovery and my enegry levels finally recovering... I will be posting more here. Though, wondering if to make a mini-blog focused on this story, especially with getting heads up 30x30 Direct Watercolor 2020 is gonna be on this June and decided it might be a good way to have fun with this narrative forming in my head while narrowing the focus to have some fun while getting back in the groove.

So... What is 30x30 Direct Watercolor? It is a month long challenge to do 30 paintings in 30 days. The catch? It is direct watercolor techniques. Hence brush sketching or no sketch at all and going straight into making the painting. It is a fun challenge for beginners to professionals. I had done it before a few years back, but I did a lot of observational studies. This time, though, I actually plan on trying actually using direct watercolor as used the techniques to get back into my sketchbook the last few weeks. Only the last few days I have managed to get my hand to draw in pemcils again... But I habe discovered my brain upgraded my art magic level as now I can skip a few steps and still get results like I did of this study of Naofumi from Rising of the Shield Hero.

So, I am gonna use my Fellswap Pastel AU to explore this more.

However, Fellswap Pastel has changed greatly and it will be fun to explore. Especially with changing my Gaster, Sans, and Papyrus to a more straightline roles than how I had them before. That and I love my version of "Naofumi" at Sans size.

Some back story info, Sans and Papyrus are Wardens for the Underground, monsters and mages who can be visible to humans and handle the Surface's "pollution." They pose as the two grown children of the Iwatani family while gathering information and Grief Seeds to keep the Underground alive and a "Sanctuary of Magic Beings." Though, Sans is tired of being Naofumi and wants to get her sister and her back Underground with things getting dicey between Magical Girls and hunting grounds with Witches seeming decreasing in numbers in various places. Hence, when given a chance to become a Royal Guard directly through the Queen instead of getting constantly denied by Alphys in exchange for investigating the disappearances of other Wardens in Kamihama City, Sans latches onto the hook and yank the line... Yet, she never expected to go to Kamihama City to get buried in mysterious Rumors... And one ended up landing Sans in anew world... And back into the dreaded Resets that she thought was gone along with Dr. W.D. Riverman.

Gaster's soul broke into two and fused with the Skele-Sisters to save their lives during the "Fractured Fall." Her body soullessly navigates the River thanks to the twins' wishes while her mind and soul stayed with the twins and uses her magic to give the skeletons a human form due to Gaster being a polymorph type monster. The trio are in a relationship... But still figuring out exactly what it is now compared to the lovely mutual love triangle they had before is nothing like it used to be.

With being veteran magical girls, monsters no less, both Sans and Papyrus often conserve on magic and hence use selective henshin and such... Sans, being a good natured dark humorist, loves messing with magical girls with weilding a trash can lid as a shield and wearing a "foolproof" disguise. Papyrus, even with loving practical jokes, is not impressed by her sister's outlandish antics.

#fellswap #sketch #undertale au #gaster #undertale #undertaleau #fanart #wd gaster #naofumi #sketchbook #30x30directwatercolor #sans #papyrus #undertalecrossover #pastel #back on tumblr

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clansayeed · 4 years

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Bound by Circumstance ― Chapter 17: The Show Must Go On

PAIRING: Nik Ryder x trans*M!MC (Taylor Hunter) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Circumstance ⥽

Taylor Hunter (MC) has made it good for himself in New Orleans; turns out moving to a new city fresh out of college to reinvent yourself isn’t as hard as people make it out to be. Things only start to get confusing when he finds himself the target of a malevolent wraith. Good thing someone’s looking out for him though — because without Nighthunter Nik Ryder as his bodyguard he definitely won’t survive long in the twisting darkness of the supernatural underworld he’s tripped into.

Bound by Circumstance and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the book Nightbound and the rest of the Bloodbound series. Find out more [HERE].

Note: Circumstance only loosely follows the events and plotline of Nightbound, and features a separate antagonist, different character motivations, and further worldbuilding.

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Circumstance/series tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

Because tomorrow is no longer guaranteed the gang decides to spend a night at the theatre. In which Cal despises Shakespeare, Garrus and Krom go on an unofficial first date, and Taylor confronts his father.

[READ IT ON AO3]

He’s honestly surprised the director even bothers reaching out to him.

“Given everything your cousin has told me about the problems you have going on right now, I’m sure this isn’t really a surprise. I’ve taken the liberty of filing a personal leave of absence for you.” And Taylor just knows that was the happiest day of Antoni’s life…

“Even though you can’t be in the show, though, you’re still welcome to come Sunday. Hoping that, obviously, things have cleared up on your end by then. Just text me your head count before noon day-of, okay?”

It’s the first real and true good thing to happen without immediate consequence so far. And of course he tries to blow it off, tries to tell everyone he has absolutely no plans to put anyone else at risk just for the selfish sake of seeing a play he’s worked on for months and doesn’t even get to be in.

Not that anyone lets him finish before they straight-up tell him he’s wrong, he’s going, and if all hell breaks loose then they’ll deal with it when it happens.

“But the wards —”

“The wards have proven themselves useless,” Garrus interrupts with no small level of frustration; accepting the vulnerability of his sanctuary hasn’t been easy on the man, “we’re just as exposed here as you would be there. And I refuse to cower in fear. If they were going to attack they would have by now — don’t stop living your life because of what might happen.”

Surprisingly, too, Katherine makes a good point; “We might actually be safer surrounded by all those mundanes. A high fatality rate isn’t what the Elders are after, that much is certain.”

It’s about the only thing any of them are certain of.

So there’s really no way around it.

Sunday morning he tries to take a head count. Doesn’t argue when Vera, despite the dark circles of exhaustion under her eyes, insists that of course she wants to come. She doesn’t say it but its obvious she could use time away from the hospital and her mother’s bedside.

Nik’s phone vibrates on the table and Taylor glances just because he’s nearby. On really good timing the man chooses then to wander out from the bedroom — rubbing his hair vigorously with his towel.

“Kathy said she and Cade are down if we don’t mind.” One look and Taylor regrets it so bad. He’s not certain, but there’s absolutely no way all of his shirts have miraculously shrunk, right?

He totally has to buy them just shy of too tight.

Not that Taylor’s complaining. Nope. No complaining here.

Ryder gives a noncommittal grunt and shrug as he passes. “Your shindig, your choice.”

“I mean they’re our friends, so…”

There’s a pause; a lag in the matrix if you will, between when Nik stops in front of the fridge and actually opens it. Keeps his back turned as he replies, “Then the more the merrier.”

He doesn’t need to be part fae to know what that’s about — but it doesn’t hurt.

The concept of friends is plural and consistent. And just as weird for him as it is for the loner Nik is accustomed to being.

Yesterday was hard and heavy.

Today is no better from a cosmic point of view.

But its softer around the edges; the difference between being stabbed with a wicked sharp dagger and being punched in the face.

Nik all but flops down on the couch beside him; pushes the open guide on reading and interpreting tarot that Taylor’s been pouring over away with a socked foot.

“I was reading that.”

“Oops.” The only unapologetic apology he’s getting, too, so he takes it.

Its been nearly twenty-four hours since his emotional breakdown and in that time he’s learned more about Ryder — and vice versa — than would have been shared on five, six dates tops. Things that wouldn’t come up without specific and out-of-left-field context, too.

Like the fact that Nik is a cheap-ass (this he knew) who has a serious case of the moonlight munchies — two things that mix about as well as oil and water. So it makes sense now why half of the fridge’s sparse contents are signature drink and cocktail add-ons.

Does it justify the fact that a fully grown man is sitting very close to him popping green olives like pieces of candy? Not in the fucking slightest.

But he knows what’s going to happen the second Nik sees his disgust — tries his best to turn away before he’s caught. Only he’s not quick enough and its too late.

“Want one?” Nik asks even though he knows the answer.

He doesn’t have time to deflect because the man picks one up and tosses it — doubles over in laughter when it bounces off Taylor’s cheek, falls to the floor, and rolls under the nearest chair to die alone.

“What are you,” he fake-gags and wipes his cheek angrily, “twelve years old?”

His glare very nearly breaks under the sheer audacity of Ryder’s pouting face. Only nearly because there’s no fucking way he’s kissing that offensive mouth no matter how closely the man leans in. “Aw c’mon Rook — jus’ one kiss!”

“Get away from me! Ew!”

“You know you like me~”

“Wrong! Incorrect! You disgust me!”

And of course they’re joking but he’s maybe a little too loud in his protests. Earns himself a haughty snort and a glare directed at his feet of all things.

“You walk around barefoot and I’m the disgusting one.”

“That’s what I said.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Uh, I do — so I win.”

Despite the fact that they had spent the previous hours getting to know not only (truly repulsive) snacking habits but also (much less repulsive, like the opposite of repulsive actually) one another’s mouths, Nik follows the same pattern each time. Roams his eyes over every inch of Taylor’s face like he’s gung-ho on taking the test in his sleep — drags a fingernail feather-light over the scruff on his jawline.

Their first time hadn’t been enough to ward him away and for that Taylor’s pretty fucking grateful. But it left a mark on him. No doubt its the reason why he always takes five whole agonizing seconds between the start and the follow-through.

Like he’s giving Taylor time to pull back; to reject him without consequence.

Maybe one day they’ll laugh about it. A silly habit no longer necessary. Because there’s always a breath hidden in the meeting of mouths that tastes of bitter relief.

Nik is relieved — not once, or twice, but every single time.

Which is more than a little tragic when he gives it a deep thought. He tries not to — really, he does.

Its easy not to think about anything at all when they’re kissing.

So that’s something.

Taylor knows that glamours serve a specific purpose; to disguise the average not-human supernatural person among the average yes-human person.

He’s even come to terms with how easily they fade into the background now. How he can scan a crowd and catch a glimpse of hooves in place of boots or a tail whipping its way behind someone trying to pass by. He considers his largest achievement to be not jumping ten feet in the air at the difficult-to-describe sight of ghosts possessing glamoured bodies.

But he can know and process all of these things and still be almost alarmingly paranoid about the trio of Krom, Garrus, and Ivy waiting in line behind them, right?

Nik grabs his head before he can look back for the umpteenth time; turns it back forward with a grunt. “The only one looking weird here is you, Rook. Everyone else sees regular folk.”

And he knows that, he does. But… “Do you ever stop worrying about it, like, slipping or something?”

“Not my problem if it does.”

“Well yeah, but…” The line shuffles forward and he trails off. Probably better not to give those particular anxieties a life of their own by voicing them aloud.

He doesn’t have to anyway, apparently. Since Taylor finds himself pulled against Nik’s side, feels warm breath tickle in his ear.

“Don’t worry. You still look completely human.”

“For now.”

The performer playing Puck stands in half-costume at the front of the line with a clipboard in hand. He has a whole two-point-five seconds to remember her name — Dana? Debbie? D-something. D-something… fuck there are too many D-something names! — before its their turn to enter the theatre.

Daphne! It comes to him like a holy revelation as she starts to go through the motions — only to notice the name and double-take in surprise.

“Hey Hunter, how’s it going?” Her small-talk is strained but polite. They’ve run lines together and he can vaguely recall being educated on her literal herd of mini dachshunds once, but whatever his ‘cousins’ gave by way of excuse for him pulling out of the show is enough to make her sheepish.

He makes a mental note to corner Garrus for the full story after the show. Especially since ‘cousin’ is a more-or-less accurate term these days.

“Uh, you know,” a one-shouldered shrug, “hanging in there. You excited?”

To her credit as an actress she checks off each body accompanying him, all eight of them, without batting an eye.

“Totally. I’m just glad the actual opening night ain’t until Mardi Gras is over, you know?”

“Director didn’t let you work the beads into your improv then I take it?”

They share a laugh. She waves them inside.

Only when they’re around a corner does Taylor let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Vera gives him a nudge. “You okay?”

“Yeah — was it just me or was that…”

Cal pokes his head in between them. “Awkward as hell? No—it wasn’t just you.”

“Cool. Thanks.”

In less than a week he’s forgotten how to, well, be human. Socialize with humans, talk casually with humans. Its unnerving — not only that but it serves to remind him by the way the Coven and their pet skeleton assassin are still out there.

None of this is even close to being over and he’s already forgotten small talk?

What else might be lost along the way?

“You look like you’re thinkin’ too much about something.”

Taylor’s smile is strained and not enough to ease Nik’s doubts. What did he expect though; that one soulful look from those fathomless eyes, or a touch that sends shivers down his spine, or one of those disarmingly sincere smiles is all it would take to make him forget his worries completely?

If only it were that simple. Not that he’s turning any of those things down — no no, he’s free to keep trying as many times as he’d like.

Its a half-full house on purpose; one full run in front of a crowd before a week of changes to make the final thing as smooth as possible.

And it was supposed to be Taylor’s time to shine; a performance of understudies. He’s told himself there will be other opportunities, that this is for the best given what’s going on. He wanted to come to support his fellow actors — to celebrate in all the work they’ve done over the last few months.

He didn’t think it would be that hard to watch. Then the space goes dark and silence falls in a warm velveteen hush.

The trio of Theseus, Hippolyta, and Philostrate take the stage — a different blocking than what they used at his last rehearsal.

The heels of his palms are pressed hard to stop his tears before Theseus even opens his mouth.

To his left Vera lets out a soft noise; both sad and comforting as her tentative hand on his shoulder turns into slow circular motions on his back. And he knows the heat-leeching palm behind him is Cal. Cal didn’t even want to come — had made it very clear there was once a school play, a bad batch of cafeteria vegetables, and a lifelong aversion to Shakespeare whose details would never again see the light of day. But there he is giving comfort where he can. He’s probably glad for something else to focus on than the stage but he knows Cal by now — knows he does nothing without meaning to do it.

Just when Taylor’s sure he’s going to have to make a mad dash for the doors, however, a familiar hand slides into his. Nik’s focus is still intent on the scene unfolding but he squeezes his fingers and doesn’t seem to care about the tears between their palms.

He’s supposed to be up on that stage. He’s supposed to be sweating under the heat of the lights and praying to the thespian gods that the tape on his mic holds fast. He’s supposed to be giving the performance of his life to an audience of friends and loved ones knowing Kristin was back in New York, that his mother couldn’t make it, and that there was no one watching that was there just for him.

Instead he’s here in the crowd. Instead he’s surrounded by friendship’s concern and holding the hand of the guy who seems to be making it a habit of standing in between him and certain death.

Instead he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be.

When the lights slide back on for intermission Cadence whirls around in his seat, arm thrown over the back, to practically barrage Krom with questions about artistic representation, choices made and things changed.

It feels a little bit like being back in a college classroom. Not the first time Cade has that effect on people.

“I — I really only helped with small stuff,” the stone troll stammers his protests, “heavy lifting or working on things normal people couldn’t reach.”

“But you’re a writer are you not?”

“An amateur at best…”

But the vampire isn’t having it. “Nonsense, I’ve caught snippets of your work. I only mean —”

“Ugh, just humor the man will you?” Katherine groans, rolls her head back on her own seat with a lighthearted glare between the two.

Nik pulls Taylor’s attention away from their talk with an arm around his shoulder. “How’s it so far? On the other side of the stage.”

“They changed a few things —” — more than a few, and more to do with Oberon than any other character so three guesses who made that call — “— but I honestly just keep counting their steps for the blocking.”

“Nerd,” scoffs the man, and Taylor isn’t exactly going to deny it.

Actually, since they have a second…

Last he knew, being borderline psychic was his thing, not Ryder’s. But Nik’s moved his legs before Taylor even stands and makes him backtrack real quick on that.

“I figured you’d wanna go say hey to them, or whatever,” and though that’s the spoken explanation Taylor can’t stop himself from feeling the real intention behind it.

He just cares.

He ducks his head to hide a flushed smile; murmurs “thanks” and lets his lips linger at the corner of Nik’s mouth as he shimmies into the aisle.

Only when he’s at the door does it occur to him that this thing between them is a recent one, and they’ve not mentioned things like public affection. But judging by the look he throws over his shoulder — catches Ivy hitting the man on the arm repeatedly and the bewildered grin on her undead face?

Its just another thing to tease him over.

Its standard stuff; the small lines by the bathrooms, crew members in their all-black ensembles bustling this and that around. All things he’s familiar with — that he doesn’t bat an eye at.

Then he spares a glance — less than that, actually, calling it a glance is somehow generous — down one of the hallways leading to further seating. The lights are off, the doors no doubt locked. Makes sense for an audience this size.

He doesn’t know why he does. Only knows both suddenly and all at once who he’ll see in the shadows beyond.

Taylor wants so badly to just ignore it. To reach out and knock on the doors to the maze of back rooms and do exactly what he planned on; congratulating his fellow performers.

But he doesn’t.

By now Taylor’s helped Garrus enough in the bottomless pit he calls a storage room to know that fae folk don’t ‘glow.’ They just always look like they do.

Elric, too, looks like he snatched a few moonbeams for himself on his way inside.

The shadows don’t retreat from him but they are withered by his presence; by the aura of him. Had he looked like that in Lamrian, as natural as light itself? Or was he witnessing yet another new facet to his senses brought on by interference of the man who really shouldn’t be here.

When Taylor opens his mouth to speak nothing comes out; a dozen questions all fighting to leap from the tip of his tongue and giving him pause.

Finally he settles on something more akin to an accusation.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

He doesn’t mean to wound the fae Lord — but also won’t deny that the recoil of remorse he gets in response isn’t a teeny bit satisfying.

“No, I should not.”

“Glad we agree.” Of course he wants to ask why are you here but he shouldn’t have to.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t. “I caught whispers of this event within your mind. Lines from a script, a dedication — a pride. I wished to see what it truly was. Living Memories are shaped by the person to whom the memories belong.”

And here he had thought he’d be spared of a headache tonight, of all nights.

“I — what I — there’s so much to unpack there,” and nothing amused in his dry laugh either, “so we’ll start with the fact that I didn’t do a—a Living Memory-thing. I don’t even know how.”

“To accept Memories is to offer up your own.”

“Gee, that would have been nice to know.”

“Do not blame yourself —”

“Oh, I’m not. No worries there.”

“I should have explained it to you. Not then; not in such dire times.”

“Then when?”

“Long before now.” Elric’s eyes are like diamonds; diamonds twisted into sharp, construction-grade drills trying to puncture holes straight through him. The intensity is unnerving if he’s being honest.

About as unnerving as getting what he’s pretty sure is a ‘More Proactive Parent’ apology from this guy he literally just met the other night. Not even a guy — a fae.

Elric reaches out as if to touch his hand. The movement is enough — breaks Taylor from his little trance so he can pull back. Pale fingers instead close around air and grieve their mistake.

“I did not like the way things were left in Lamrian, Taylor.”

Taylor — like he has any right to say the name he chose all on his own.

“That’s your problem. But yeah, I can see how refusing to help your own son to save yourself might leave a bad taste in your mouth.”

It’s a very nice burn, high five kind of moment right up until the shadows creep up onto the fae’s expression. “I have the safety of an entire community to put first. Forgive me for prioritizing my life’s work and the many lives under my care over the child who only seems to acknowledge our connection when it suits his insults.”

Damn… nice burn… high five…

“Are you, Taylor?”

He swallows the lump in his throat. “Am I what?”

“Are you acknowledging me as your…?” He leaves it hanging there, juicy bait in murky waters. And Taylor isn’t starving — not quite yet — but he’s definitely not full either.

He glances back to the theatre atrium.

The background noise is quieter down here but soon enough everyone will be heading back to their seats. No doubt the curtain won’t even be fully opened before Nik is bounding out the doors to find him.

“Look, Lord Elric…”

Who acts like the title brings him pain; “Please, call me —”

“— I’m not calling you Dad; or Pop, Father, or any variation thereof —”

“If you would listen as often as you speak. I would ask you to call me Elric.”

Even that feels like a boundary they shouldn’t cross. What good is to come of being friendly, getting to know one another — especially when he’s facing the very likely chance of being dead by Tuesday?

On the other hand, whispers a voice in the back of his head, what’s the harm in getting to know your actual father — especially facing the very likely chance of being dead by Tuesday?

First, how rude can you be? Second, nobody asked you, rude little voice.

But after several dragging moments of internal arguing the voice ends up winning. Still rude though.

“What do you want out of this, Elric? What did you hope to gain from coming here?”

He looks almost affronted. “I wished to… connect with you. You are… my child. A miracle I had not even believed let alone known of.”

My child. Two simple words that ring in his ears unpleasantly.

“My plate’s full enough. I don’t know if I have room for ‘connecting.’”

“Would it not be worth trying?”

Taylor throws his hands up in exasperation. “Maybe! Fuck — maybe… maybe if I wasn’t so scared of dying. Or if I thought I had the time. But whatever the Coven Elders are planning it’s —”

Elric’s eyes widen, but that isn’t what cuts him off. Every hair on his body stands up at the same time. Without a chill, without a touch. It’s a feeling; powerful and consuming and coming from the fae Lord.

“Oh right,” because Elric refused to help and they’d gone to the Elders and that was that, “you don’t know. Yeah, the Coven’s the one who summoned the wraith. It’s a whole thing — I don’t have the time to go into it and I kinda don’t even want to because tonight was supposed to be one last attempt at normal but joke’s on me I guess.”

“You will make the time.”

He’d consider going at him for trying to use what he probably thinks is a tone of fatherly authority on Taylor — if it wasn’t so strikingly familiar. Commanding the wisdom and strength of his years both gone and yet to come. It demands respect, to be heard and the weight of every word understood.

Its the Elric he’d met for the first time in the Beau-Keyes Garden, and its kind of a relief.

Would have been useful yesterday, though.

He sums the encounter up as best he can; keeps throwing looks back over his shoulder as a sort of passive-aggressive-meets-non-confrontational way of saying he’s being held up.

And yes, logically he should be happy Elric is changing his tune no matter the reason. But he’s petty and spiteful and hey, nobody’s perfect.

By the time Taylor finishes Elric is already deep in thought — strings of thought becoming ropes, knots; an intricate web displayed across his entire person with just a look.

Another one of those looks he’s seen in the mirror, actually.

But they’re just thoughts. Not actions. He doesn’t need to be a little psychic to know that.

“No doubt my breath would be a wasted one were I to ask you to return to Lamrian with me.”

Elric means well — but that doesn’t make it any better.

“What, like — leave my friends behind to die and abandon the entire community that doesn’t even know what’s coming for it?”

He doesn’t say anything; doesn’t have to. “And—And what would I do,” continues Taylor, “just hang out with you and your wife, maybe do something productive like learn the pan flute or whatever?”

“This is not a matter to make light of.”

“You’re damn right it isn’t!” Fuck it, he’s shouting and doesn’t care who hears now. “I can’t believe you. Cowering in safety alone is one thing but to try and drag me down with you? That’s messed up; you’re messed up.”

“You do not know of what you speak — of the centuries our kind spend trying to conceive.”

“I’m not one of you.”

“You are, denying it hurts only yourself. By all accounts you are a miracle, Taylor. But children among the fair folk are few and far between. So for you to stand there — to twist my words as though they mean nothing…”

It’s a little hard to keep his composure when Elric’s voice cracks. It doesn’t make any of it okay — not by a long shot — but there’s a wrongness to that tone normally even and cultured sounding choked with emotion.

He even tries to swallow it down. It doesn’t work. “I have seen the cost of bravery. And to see you so passionate — so determined to fight this battle that I am certain was never meant to be yours. It ensnares me in a way you cannot yet understand. Pride overtakes me, yet I am made immobile.

“I have seen enough in my life to know when fighting is parallel to dying. No matter how brief the battle or noble the purpose there are some forces that cannot be overcome.”

He takes Taylor’s hand. Clammy and cold and he tries to hide it but Taylor knows the effects of a panic attack from personal experience that no matter how refined the otherworldly creature is you can’t always hide the tremors in your fingertips.

Like before he feels a tug in his gut. Something hooking into his center of gravity and puling him, or his essence, closer.

Hears the fae clear in his mind; terrified, heartbroken, too much.

I could not bear the sight of you among the casualties. Do not ask it of me. I beg of you.

Over-thinking about the heartbreak in every word, about the things he can’t possibly understand that allow Elric to feel so much and so hard for a person he doesn’t know — it’s not a luxury Taylor can afford right now. And not just because the emotional depth it requires might very well bring him to tears again.

So he squeezes that pale grip tight, the only solidarity he allows himself to muster, then lets go.

“I can’t.”

“Taylor —”

“No, really Elric, I can’t.” He steps back; creates distance between them both physically and on a deeper level. “I wasn’t supposed to be a part of this — I wasn’t. I’m only being targeted because of you; because I’m your son. You know what the Elders called me? They called me an ‘unseen complication.’ And up until right now it’s really bugged me. By all accounts I’ve not made anything complicated except for the lives of my friends.

“But maybe I’m not done yet, you know? Maybe there’s more for me to do. Probably not, let’s be real, but I have to try. Nik— Nik is trying, and he’s never done that before. Kathy and Cade don’t have any stake in this but they keep trying because they’re good people. Cal wants to make this city safer for his brother and Vera… she could have run back to New York at any time but she hasn’t.

“I’m not gonna stand here and say I fully understand what’s going on. But that doesn’t mean I should cut and run. I think its because I don’t know jack-shit that I can do the most good. Or, you know, at least try to.”

He falters at the end; never one to finish strongly in situations like these. Would he like for Elric to stay, to try like the rest and do some good — of course.

But any part of him left hesitant about his involvement is gone now. So he can thank the fae for that at the very least.

Wow, is this what emotional growth feels like? That warm feeling in his chest spreading out to the tips of his fingers and toes, the pride in his actions, the sense of accomplishment however small?

Kristin is going to be so proud of him when she wakes up.

He doesn’t realize he’s waiting for Elric to respond until he inhales deeply. Looks Taylor over with those same eyes somehow changed. Like he’s really seeing him for the first time.

“You are brave — braver than most.”

“No I’m really not. But I’m scared enough to want to do something about it.”

“Very well. Whatever you wish to call it… the quality is an admirable one.”

“You should try it out sometime.”

“Perhaps you can show me how, one day.” But not this day.

That’s it then. The arguing, the impassioned speeches, all of it and Elric still plans on hiding.

Fine. He’s done trying to make the man see reason.

“I’m gonna get back to the show — my company’s worked hard for this and even though I’m not up there, I deserve the chance to see it through.”

Just as resigned as he had been in Lamrian, Elric closes himself off when he tucks his clasped hands in his sleeves. Beautiful embroidery becoming his wall against the world.

Against the terrible things about to happen.

“You will find no time has passed,” he says to Taylor’s surprise, “I had hoped you would return with me. The chance to say farewell to your companions was the least I could offer.”

Implications aside… “Thanks, I guess. I’ll see you around, Elric.”

“Nothing would bring me greater joy.”

He’s halfway down the hall when a definite something comes over him. Is there such a thing as too much emotional growth? It tastes a little bit like he’s downed a shot of vinegar.

It makes him turn back; it knows the other man is still there — watching.

“You risked your life coming here — in person.”

Elric nods. “Yes.”

“All the things you’re staying out of the fight for; your people, Thalissa — if the bloodwraith showed up…”

“I knew the risk.”

“But it’s temporary, so that makes it okay.”

“What it does it make it a risk worth taking.”

“There it is then…” and Taylor almost can’t believe he’s saying this, but — “Come on, there’s a few empty seats in front of us. You can take one of those.”

Maybe he’s spent enough time in the fae’s presence now to understand and see every emotion he expresses. Small flickers and ticks in facial features — and that’s being generous.

Confusion. Contemplation. Understanding. Surprise.

And more than a little heartbreak.

“The longer I stay here the greater the chance of discovery by the creature.”

“Yeah, well you’ve been here a pretty long time already. What’s an extra hour or two?”

“The difference between life and death.”

“A fair point. Counter— you wanted to spend time together, Pop.” He pops his lips on the word. And funnily enough that seems to be what does the job.

There was no reason to doubt Elric’s truthfulness but he’s still relieved when they walk back into the theatre and the curtains are still drawn.

It would be helpful if someone turned around to see them; if they warned the others. But unfortunately (for Garrus) it’s a complete surprise when they greet his return… with company.

“Look who I found at the concession stand.” Taylor throws his arm around Elric’s shoulder and squeezes for the humor of it. Shit he probably should have asked if the man had a glamour.

Well, no one’s staring or screaming yet, so probably a good sign.

The general aura of confusion is broken by Garrus who, impossibly enough, looks more pale than usual. Beside him Krom is halfway reaching out; as if to shield his unspoken crush from Elric’s unseen wrath.

“Hey there, Rook,” Nik’s look of ‘what the literal?’ doesn’t stray from the fae’s ethereal glow, “thought you were goin’ backstage.”

Because this was his fault? “Oh, I was. But then I got to thinking — it’s a friends and family viewing so, you know, why not call my estranged father Elrond?”

“Elric.”

Sigh. “I know. It’s a joke.”

Elric nods. “Ah, I see.” No he doesn’t, but that’s not the point. Actually that he doesn’t is what makes it a little bit funnier.

But Taylor realizes quickly that he’s made a mistake in just assuming this would be okay. Garrus has never been quiet for this long and it makes everyone a little on edge. What happens when the man who always has something to say falls silent?

“You look well, Gallus.”

Garrus flinches violently at the name; at Elric’s attempt to cut through the tension. “That isn’t my name and you know it.”

“It was once.”

“Not anymore.” Garrus looks to Krom in surprise. Its the most intimidating the gentle giant has ever sounded. Though rage literally flickers as flames in Ivy’s cursed eyes she manages to look at him with pride.

It seems Taylor isn’t the only one who’s grown as a person tonight, though. As the discomfort rises to an almost stifling level the Lord bows his head, speaks somber and its enough to make everyone take a breath.

“I wish not to intrude on your time, Garrus,” Garrus who reaches absently for something to ground him and finds it in Krom’s hand clasping his, “only to take what precious moments my child allows me to possess.”

Way to push the blame on Taylor.

Taylor who struggles for something to say; an apology, a get out of here, anything. “I didn’t — I mean I — Garrus if —”

He raises a hand and Taylor’s glad for the opportunity to bite his tongue. Finds relief in the fact that Garrus still manages a smile his way.

“You couldn’t know. And it doesn’t bother me, honestly —” — especially not when he has Krom’s hand to squeeze where the seats separate their thighs — “— as long as my old landlord respects his boundaries, and doesn’t have an ulterior motive.”

“I do not.”

“Pinky swear?”

Elric doesn’t understand and it shows; some kind of power move Garrus relishes in by grinning at the laughter that ripples through them and breaks the tension.

The room grows dark as the company prepares to resume. Taylor awkwardly (and if he’s honest, uncomfortably) ushers Elric into the seat parallel to his a row forward. Close enough to count as ‘spending time together’ while also glad to be a buffer between his fae father and Garrus.

Velvet curtains pull apart with a flourish. Just before the cast begins Taylor manages to lean back and give a real apology to his friend.

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve asked first.” He whispers.

Garrus places a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Really, darling, no big deal here.”

“Promise?”

“Pinky.”

He can’t remember the last time he made any promises so important as pinky promises. But he and Garrus link little fingers and exchange small smiles just in time for Titania to begin her lines.

With a deep breath of courage and only after finding Nik’s hand in the dark he leans again, forward this time, and directs Elric’s attention to the performance.

“Okay, so quick recap. There are four lovers, right, Helena who loves Demetrius, who loves Hermia, who loves Lysander, but the thing is…”

#nightbound #choices nb #playchoices fanfiction #nik ryder x mc #nik ryder #katherine nightbound #cal lowell #vera reimonenq #oc: cadence smith #garrus #ivy #krom #nightbound mc #mc: taylor hunter #oblv: bound by circumstance #oblv: new chapter #; my fics

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youllallriseintheink · 5 years

Text

Moving On

This takes place chronologically after the events of another one of my stories, called “Breaking the Time Loop.” I think it’s understandable without having read it, though. I hope everyone enjoys it.

---

For twenty three years, Sammy Lawrence had longed for everything he had now. Freedom. His old body. The whole, open, colourful world for him to live in. Even his relationship with Susie Campbell had been given back to him. In his daydreams, Sammy had fantasized about publishing the music he’d written in his years of captivity, becoming involved with a church, marrying, and never coming back to that horrible studio or performing demonic arts again.

Less had changed than he expected. Until he was finally free, he had never realized just how attached he was to the churches he already had within the studio, and the people he’d helped there. And so, every day after work, he’d head into the sketch dimension. The portal to it had found a new home in the closet in the bathroom of his brother’s apartment, where he and Susie were staying until they found their own place to stay. Joey had been perfectly willing to help him move it: there was no more closure to be had from the sketch dimension, and a part of Joey was honestly just happy that someone from the dimension was moving on and helping to salvage the souls of the damned.

Within the dimension, Alice Angel was hard at work sending the souls of Sammy’s cult to heaven. A necessary part of that was separating a soul from the hive mind that lost one’s tended to become when left unattended.

There was nothing functionally wrong with separating them out as needed like Alice was doing. The souls, spread out across dozens of bodies, simply wouldn’t be aware of themselves. A few of them, Sammy knew, had never even attempted to separate due to what could only be described as a very weak will to live. The only problem was that Sammy didn’t like seeing his people melt away into a languid hive. That was why he reopened the Church of Unity and returned to it whenever necessary, playing audio logs for anyone who had forgotten who they were.

There was a good deal less to do at the Church of Unity now that Alice was at work- nothing helps one’s will to live like not being hunted by a demon and the concrete promise of escape. And of course, now that Bendy had given life back to every person he could, the Church of the Ink Demon was permanently closed. The only other “work” he had as a pastor was in encouraging the occasional lost one who was afraid to give himself over to Alice. As a result, Sammy had a lot of time to spend hanging out with the important people in his life. He and Jack were still best friends, and would Sammy often played music with him. Jack also joined Sammy, Tom, and Alice for games of cards. He generally wouldn’t leave the sketch dimension until ten or eleven at night, when his body’s need for sleep forced him to.

At first, Susie stayed up for him. Though, his social batteries were usually drained by that point, so he typically just showered off and went to bed after that, careful to remove every drop of ink from himself and the floor. Susie hated seeing ink in any quantity greater than what would come out of a pen, and she hated when Sammy talked about what was going on in the sketch dimension. Thing was, that was pretty much Sammy’s whole life. Eventually, she stopped staying up for him, making him agree to have dinner with her and his brother each night before disappearing into the sketch dimension instead.

Over dinners, he mostly let Susie talk. She’d always been the type to enjoy talking about her day and the like. As of late, she’d been talking about new technologies and other little things that had changed between the forties and the sixties that she wanted Sammy to see. His response was always the same: “we’ll do it on the weekend.” As of late, she’d been doing a lot of complaining about him not becoming more involved in “the real world.”

Sammy hated that. The people of his cult were real. Real and important to him. If Susie didn’t want to listen to why that was (and she didn’t. She didn’t want to hear a word about the sketch dimension) she’d just have to accept it blind.

Despite some bitterness towards her, Sammy did feel bad about neglecting to make a life outside the sketch dimension, especially as Susie began to lose interest in him. And that wasn’t the only problem with living most of his life there. The other problem was that the people that made up his life were disappearing before his eyes.

Sammy had always known that that would happen eventually, of course. And he knew that his people were going to a better place, and that there was no way for them to live in a physical body again. Still, when someone he had known was there one day and gone from him the next, he couldn’t help but think of it as their death. Like people he knew were dying on a regular, steady basis and the studio just kept getting emptier.

Alice was the only one he could talk to about that. He didn’t even want Susie to know about it. So, when his memories of some ascended lost one were keeping him up at night, he’d leave and head for somewhere where no one could bother him. Oftentimes to his old sanctuary. From his time in captivity, he was used to hearing lost ones cry at night. He was even used to being one of them.

Susie noticed that Sammy’s mood had taken a turn, and was even aware of him leaving at night, but she didn’t know what to do about it. He denied that it was even happening, until a particular event pushed her to act.

It had all started when Sammy had come to Alice and Tom’s place, as he had many times before, only to be greeted by a strange, sketchy, black-and-white man. The man was tall, burly, and completely unsurprised by Sammy’s shock. “Like my new look? Oh calm down, Sammy. It’s Tom. Come in.”

“How...?”

“You see, Sammy,” Alice explained, “I decided to get one of the harder cases over with. The searcher that you’d isolated in that cage because she’d gone entirely insane. Well, after a few hours I realized that there was no fixing her. I should have known. She couldn’t even even speak, the poor thing. So I did what I did for Norman’s soul and just blanked it out and let Tom use it to change form. Boris here might be fine as a mute dog, but Tom isn’t!”

“Oh. Uh, congratulations, Tom. You look great!” Sammy replied, though he was much more concerned with his favourite blob with a hat. “She was so insane she couldn’t talk, you say?”

“Oh, Sammy. I promise you that Jack is going to be fine. I don’t know why he’s always stayed a searcher, but you know that none of them can talk. His soul seems pretty normal from what I can see.” From the corner where he was stroking Boris the wolf, Jack nodded in agreement.

“Alright, good to hear,” Sammy had said. That night, though, he laid awake, pondering his friend’s mortality, and the promise he’d made to his church to do everything in his power to save them. And it just seemed so unfair that he should get to live, just because he happened to have kept a bit of his own hair.

Sammy sat up in bed. That was it. The only way to bring him back was to get some physical remains of his. If that tiny, inky bundle of hair was enough for Bendy to do his magic, then anything ought to do.

Sammy retrieved a phone book from the drawer, taking a glance at the clock, which read 2:36. This was insane, and Sammy knew it was insane. Nonetheless, he flipped through the pages until he came upon the name “Fain.” It made most sense to just start at the top of the list and work his way down. He dialed the first number, the noise painfully loud against the silence of the night.

“Hello,” came a sleepy, female voice. Sammy had to wonder what he’d been thinking, doing this at this hour. Yet, it felt too late to back out now.

“Yes, hello. Do you have a relative named Jack Fain?”

“Uh, let me think... yeah. An uncle, I think.”

“Is he dead?”

“What?

“Sorry, I mean, uh...”

“Who is this?”

There was a silence.

“I’m hanging up-“

“Wait! I’m a geneticist from uh, New York University! We have reason to believe that he had a rare but harmless genetic abnormality that we’d like to study. Do you have anything that might have his DNA?”

“Oh, okay. I’m sorry, no. You might have a better chance with one of his adoptive kids, but I doubt anyone has anything. He went missing a long time ago. Can I give you one of their numbers?”

“I’d love that.”

Within the next ten minutes, Sammy had been on the line with all three of Jack’s adoptive kids, and was no closer to securing Jack’s DNA. He hung the phone back up and slumped to the floor, defeated and ready to cry. His sheep might be going to a better place, but he was still losing them, and he wasn’t sure how much more he could take. Susie and Sammy’s brother watched in silence from the hall. Susie beckoned his brother over.

“What should we do?” she whispered.

“I don’t think we can get through to him,” he replied.

“I think I know someone who can.”

Susie left the man’s side and left for the entrance to the sketch dimension. Even just poking her head through the door and seeing the sepia-toned studio on the other side made her heart pick up the pace. Slowly, she forced herself in, and pulled the door shut behind her. She checked it to make sure that it was in fact unlocked. Alright, she could do this. She’d done it before-done it for years. And it wasn’t as though the ink demon was here this time.

“Relentless forward momentum, Susie. Just do it, and don’t look back.”

Susie made her way through the studio, found an axe, slaughtered a few butcher gang trios, and found the elevator.

Relentless forward momentum. Don’t think, just do. There were plenty of artifacts of her past to trigger her memories, but she refused to take any of it in.

After a trip through Bendyland, she came to an ink river and stopped dead. Allison would be on the other side of this. Come on. Relentless forward momentum. It’s not gonna melt you. After some serious hesitation, Susie got in, waded through as quickly as she could, and found herself at Alice’s door. She gave it a few hard knocks.

“Who is it...?” Alice asked sleepily.

“It’s Susie Campbell.”

Confused, Alice got up and opened the door. Sure enough, Susie was there. “Susie! What brings you here?”

“It’s about Sammy. He’s not adjusting to the real world and I don’t think he would listen to anyone else. I want to give him an intervention, but could use you to soften him up. What do you say?”

Alice hesitated. Susie was getting desperate. “This is the last time he’ll ever get to spend with these people, Susie. I’ve seen into his soul, and you have no idea how much his people matter to him and how good his time here was. Have you ever considered just letting him grieve?”

Tears pricked at Susie’s eyes. “I wish I could see how he’s grown. But all he wants to do is come here. And talk about here. And I don’t wanna ever think about here again. All the ways I was hurt, and hurt other people... I just wanna forget it all and he won’t let me. Alice, if nothing happens, I’m going to have to leave him for my own sake so that I can move on. And I’m worried about how he’ll take that. He’s already crying almost every night, and tonight he was lying to people on the phone and acting like a fool in the middle of the night because he doesn’t want to lose Jack. I don’t wanna put a break up on him on top of that. What should I do, Alice?”

Alice looked to Susie with pity. At this point tears were flowing down the smaller woman’s face. “I guess you should at least warn him,” she sighed. “About the breakup, that is. I guess I can try talking to him. I’m biased, Susie. I don’t know what there is to value out there. I only know about in here. But I’ll try.”

“Okay,” Susie choked out.

“Can I walk you to the elevator? You look like you swam here.”

“There’s an elevator?”

“Yep. The lost ones made it.”

That explained why Susie didn’t know about it. Why would the lost ones share their knowledge with a monstress who wanted to vivisect them for their hearts? But, Susie didn’t have to think about that. A few minutes, and she’d be out of this inky hell.

—-

Sammy was overjoyed that Susie was finally allowing him to bring Allison and Tom out of the sketch dimension. He had something very important to tell them. After, of course, showing them around a little.

Allison in particular was awestruck as they walked downtown together. “There’s so much colour. Oh my gosh, what’s this one called?” Allison asked, pointing to a woman’s dress.

“Indigo. And the belt’s colour is called red,” Sammy said. Showing Allison around like this made him feel like a hero. Suddenly, Allison tore off to a cart selling flowers. By the time he’d caught up with her, she was face-deep in them.

“Oh, Sammy... you told me there were a lot of different kinds of these things, but... I never thought there would be this many.”

“Wanna buy some?”

If it were possible, Alice’s face lit up even more. Sammy bought her some small indigo flowers.

Soon, they were at the park they’d intended to go to. “So,” Alice began, voice somber, “I have something to tell you.”

“Really? Me, too.”

“You first.”

“Okay. So, I know you don’t really know yet what you’re going to do once you’re on the outside, and I’ve been thinking that you and Bendy could make a great team for curing mental illnesses like schizophrenia or dementia. Just kill them, manipulate the soul, and have Bendy bring them back to life. Easy, and it would probably bring in a lot of money.”

Alice looked at him like he was crazy. “Don’t the people out here have more reservations about death than us?”

“Oh, right. But, they also have reservations about torturing themselves with mental illness. I think a lot of people would still take it.”

“I don’t know, Sammy. I kind of want to find out who I am when I’m not killing people and manipulating souls. I don’t expect you to get it, but choosing who someone is supposed to be without their input is stressful. I’m not sure I can even do anything about dementia- it’s more a physical thing. And just... look around,” Allison gestured at the park. “It’s beautiful. Tom and I want to come out here and try something new. Anyhow, do you know if Bendy would be up to it?”

Sammy looked pensively to the grass. “No. Can I call him now?”

“Sure.”

So, that’s what Sammy did. Bendy picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Bendy. It’s Sammy Lawrence.

“Hi, Sammy! To what do ah owe the honour?”

“This is... mostly hypothetical, but I was wondering if you’d be up to joining in a little project with Allison. It would involve moving across states to live with her, but I can imagine no greater use of your gifts.”

Bendy was silent a moment. Then, he heard Bendy call out, “Dad! It’s Sammy! He wants me to move in with Alice!”

“What?” Henry grunted before taking the phone and chasing Bendy off to play. “Sammy, hi! How are you adjusting to the real world?”

“Good...”

“Good. Now look, I’m sorry, but Bendy relocating now is not a good idea.”

Sammy was surprised with the strength of his reaction. “But why? You don’t even know what my plan is.”

“Because, Sammy,” Henry said patiently, “Bendy is a child. It doesn’t matter what the plan was. He needs his parental figures.”

“No he isn’t,” Sammy retorted, “He’s a powerful, 20-something-year-old demon that can control ink and raise the dead.”

“Yeah, but he spent several of those years locked and chained in an empty room, and spent the rest of them wandering around in a pocket dimension attempting to steal a soul. And right now, he wouldn’t want to be separated from me for two days, let alone to move to another state with Tom and Allison. Mentally, he’s just a child with abandonment issues. I don’t know what I’m going to do with him long-term, Sammy. Right now we’re going to try putting him in school. He’ll probably be ready for something like what you’re talking about one day. But right now, we honestly just want to move on.”

“Oh. Okay,” Sammy said. Then he hung up.

“What did he say?” Alice asked.

“They want to move on.”

Alice nodded. “That’s the thing I needed to tell you. Susie is worried about you. She thinks you have to move on.”

Sammy hid his head in his hands. A ton of thoughts, most of them nasty, brewed. He counted to ten and said, “Susie doesn’t realize how important my cult is to me. She doesn’t want to talk about anything.”

“She’s traumatized.”

Sammy strained to keep the anger out of his voice and the tears out of his eyes. “Why couldn’t you have just fixed that when you had the chance? It hurts us. You fixed that other guy.”

Alice sighed. “That’s different, Sammy. Depression is basically the brain not producing enough of a couple chemicals. To use the writing metaphor, it’s a matter of correcting a couple grammatical errors. With Susie, it would be like rewriting the plot, or deleting sentences. Susie’s trauma is about her memories, and her interpretation of them. Unless it were necessary, I couldn’t just... delete soul-deep memories. I could have planted thoughts in her head so that she wouldn’t be so affected by them, but after doing so much of that already for her identity issues and aggression, I just wanted to keep it low-interference wherever I could. And maybe that was a mistake. There isn’t a manual for this, y’know. I have to make choices and then live with them.”

“Oh. Okay,” Sammy replied, resigned. “If I can ask, what’s the biggest thing you did to me?”

“I made your thinking less black and white. That’s about it.”

“Okay.”

Sammy sat in silence a while, head on his knees. “What are you going to do when you can come out?” Sammy asked. “Who will you stay with?

“Presumably Tom and I will just live in the sketch dimension until we can afford a real place.”

“Okay. I was just thinking about letting the sketch dimension go for Susie’s sake. The thing is, I don’t want to leave you to learn about the world alone-“

Alice grabbed Sammy’s hand. His perfect, creamy white hand. This was someone pure. Someone who wouldn’t be stared at by every man woman and child out here. “Sammy. Look at yourself. You belong out here. With people. I wouldn’t want to hold you back.”

“You wouldn’t be. Alice, I’m not the person I was going into the sketch dimension, and I wouldn’t want to be. I want to discover who I am now and how I could fit in to this world, too. That’s what Susie doesn’t seem to get- even when my cult is gone, I don’t want things to go back to the way they were. We could figure out our new lives together. Tom, too.”

Alice would have blushed if she were physically capable of it. She also laughed a little, which confused Sammy. “What?”

“Oh, nothing. It just that I was supposed to get you to see the light and leave the sketch dimension behind. It seems like I’ve done pretty much the opposite. I’m gonna warn you, though: Susie and your brother are waiting for you to come back to the apartment so they can do a little intervention for you.”

The two came back to the apartment together, where Susie and Sammy’s brother were waiting. They had a serious talk together about what Sammy could be doing to handle loss better, and Sammy listened. He also explained his side of the story and what he’d planned with Allison. Susie was devastated, but also relieved when she and Sammy broke up. After the intervention was finished, Susie called her sister, and was moved out within a week.

—-

It was a little over a year later, and Sammy was rowing across a lake with Allison and Tom, where they planned on having a picnic to celebrate the anniversary of Tom and Alice’s entry into the real world. Sammy was happy that he’d chosen to be a part of it.

had found their place in a little town that housed the greatest hospice in New York State. The people out here had gotten used to having two sketchy, black and white people around. It had taken time, though. Sammy had gotten a job at the hospice fairly easily, but it took him a while to convince his boss to give Allison a chance. It had turned out to be a good place for them both to use their skills, including ones Sammy had developed during his time as an ink creature. It was far from a secular hospice, so Sammy could even use spirituality to comfort some of the patients. Alice occasionally took a soul home and fixed it up enough to land it in heaven, which she found to be a good balance between using her power and being more than it. Tom was also happy working as a lumberjack. Even aside from work though, it was a nice town, though- small, tight-knit, out in nature, had a nice church.

Not all of their transition was easy. It was very hard for Tom and Allison to discover that just because they’d been together when their were no other options, didn’t mean that their love would survive once they were free to make other choices. Alice and Sammy had had feelings for each other on some level since the moment they’d met, and became a couple pretty much the second that they were both single at the same time. The trio remained friends, though, with Tom living fairly close by and visiting often.

Sammy had readjusted some of his unused music for the modern age and had released them to some success. Susie had called him to congratulate him as soon as she saw a record with his name on it for sale. They exchanged stories about how they were doing. Susie was doing well. She was back in voice acting and was getting fairly good roles, and she was engaged now. That had been a couple months ago, and they hadn’t talked since. That was okay. Sammy had moved on. At their own pace, everyone had.

---

Do you guys think Sammy made the right choice? When I started writing this, I was thinking I’d end it with Sammy giving the portal to the sketch dimension to Henry, forcing himself to move on, and eventually marrying Susie.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #breaking the time loop #my fanfiction #sammy lawrence #Allison Angel #susie campbell #sammy x allison angel

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believerindaydreams · 6 years

Text

under blue moon

oh look it’s another bit out of order.

(may possibly get edited depending on the opinion of Syb who Doth Write Blondeyes with far more intensity than I do.)

this bit is from during Lent, before the Bus Trip of Doom. Our trio have taken up poetry sessions at the gatehouse- and somebody else is listening.

The memory shames Wallace even now, the way he and Joseph decided their lives back then. A scapular, one side brown homespun and the other the image of a saint, is less worldly than a coin; but they’d been gambling all the same. He has trouble crediting that he could ever have been so flighty.

Reckons it best, not to admit to himself that he still might be- in ordinary time.

This is not ordinary time. This is Lent, season of abstinence and strange sorrows, the time of year when the church’s blessed tide recedes, to expose the barren pagan world beneath. Father Paul dedicates this season to traveling, seeking reluctant converts for their flock; because now is when men reflect on their sins.

Only Father Paul is not traveling this year, because of that- impertinence- of a brother of his, who came to visit for a day and has stayed for months. Accompanied by Joseph, gentle and distraught in his sorrows. Accompanied also, by a spirit that chose with careful precision, the moment to make itself manifest....

it is hard to credit that man as flesh and blood.

To say that their monastery (this pit of unshriven sins, by guttering half-light) has brought this fate upon itself would be a certain kind of blasphemy. To remain unmoved by this creature would be a rather worse one, Wallace can’t help feeling.

He roams through the cloisters at night, disturbing the cats.

He knows Latin better than any man here- excepting Father Paul, perhaps.

He had claimed for himself a portion of their sanctuary, carved out a worldliness in this place where there should be no such thing; thus reminding the flock that such things are, laying temptation in their path, in allways being most sly, and subtle, and cautious in his efforts...if the intent is not the breaking up of their flock, Wallace cannot imagine what else Angel Eyes might crave; and even if not, he’d bear watching.

All of which is very poor philosophy indeed, to justify the way he has stolen away from evening prayer to spy on a guest, from the gatehouse attic. The passage out lies open and waiting. He might retreat at any moment, but chooses not to.

“Turning and turning, in the widening gyre,” Angel Eyes reads.

In this he is also unlike other men; his voice does not change to a carrying, artificial tone but remains serenely conversational. Wallace has become aware of its permutations, its inflections and digressions, is unable to listen without comparison to his multifold experience of priests and recitations. If it were a matter solely of the voice, he should have to consider it as fine a one as ever he’s heard.

Joseph prefers not to read, for all his early promise as a speaker, and as for Benedict- Benedict has the sense not to read poetry, at least. His virtues may be strictly of the negative variety, but they do exist, as Christian charity requires him to acknowledge.

“He’s fallen asleep,” Joseph says. The peephole is small, but sufficient for him to see the man resting on the sofa beneath, the other who reaches for him with eager hands-

and the third, who knocks Joseph back with his fist without missing a syllable. “The falcon cannot hear the falconer.”

“Well, he ought to be listening,” Joseph says very sullenly, not moving from the floor.

“Things fall apart. The centre cannot hold,” Angel says. The book in his hand is a fine handsome edition, handcut pages and a heavy binding. Not quite the life of restraint promised to Father Paul, this gatehouse.

“If I was that rude, you’d have it in for me.”

“Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world...the blood-dimmed tide is loosed-”

“Why do you let him get away with everything?” Joseph asks. “That new bag, your blasphemous little suppers, all the rest of it.”

A quiet, warm and ungodly smile warms Wallace then: a story he recognises, one that he’s heard before. Not the prodigal son, but the man’s brother.

“And everywhere, the ceremony of innocence is drowned...”

He doesn’t catch Joseph’s next interruption; the man’s lowered his voice, almost as if he expects an unseen listener.

“The best lack all conviction...”

That must be more poetry, rather than a response. Joseph pulls himself close to the chair where Angel sits, to lean his head against the other man’s knee.

Provoking no reaction whatsoever. “While the worst, are full of passionate intensity.”

“Passion we have by the truckload,” Joseph growls. “It’s everything else that’s the problem, always has been.”

“Surely some revelation is at hand...” Angel continues, unperturbed.

“Like hell there is. I’m leaving after Easter.”

And finally, finally, Angel closes the book. Marking it first with a ribbon, very deliberately.

“Are you?” he asks- and that is not in a light, conversational tone at all, but something that draws on moonless nights and the isolation of nightmare for its power. “Well, you’ve done that before.“

“I mean for good this time. Finished the con, kept my promise-” Joseph laughs, a trifle hysterically. “He’s been hanging around my neck for years, I couldn’t get rid of him. I promised I’d see him safe first, you understand? And now I’ve done it and you’ve got him and I wish to God I hadn’t, but he’s yours now. I can get back on the road, like I always meant to.“

Angel picks up the dark gloves on his lap, pulls them on his hands with a deliberate lack of hurry or concern. “Six months, Blondie. Six months when I thought you wanted me, how indifferent were you?”

“Not half as much as you thought I was,” Joseph says, abruptly calm. The answer seems to surprise Angel too; he stops, a glove half on. “Inside of a month, I knew- I wanted you for you. Selfishly. I didn’t want my partner in on it, nothing you could have done would have driven me away- well, you know it didn’t.“

“And you left without a word,” Angel says. “I chose not to ask you why. I’m not asking now.”

It would, perhaps, be a statement of great poignancy and self-denial, as seen from below- such as from Joseph’s position. From up here, Wallace can make out no expression on Angel’s features, only the top-down view of a nose and thinning hair; and a reluctant compassion enters his heart. The man’s only a man, after all.

(Perhaps God, looking from above, finds it equally simple to distribute forgiveness; but this is hardly a perspective he’ll suggest at prayer study.)

“Tuco needed me. I knew- I knew that if I said I had to leave, that I cared about somebody so much that I’d risk us just to save him, that you’d insist on coming along. Helping. Cutting me out, maybe, or...he was in New Orleans,“ Joseph says. “Not the picturesque part, some godless subdivision on the outskirts. The liveliest man I’ve ever met, and he honestly thought that stuffing ten pounds of joy into a five pound sack would be good for him. I’d have felt better if they’d been kicking him out of a rathole.”

“I wouldn’t.”

Joseph exhales. “Tuco’s like me, a crisis just makes him mad. Mad gives you something to work with. It’s the in-between times that wear the heart down...so I took care of him, I got him back on the road, and then I was stuck again! And frankly the hustle was getting worse and worse- it’s damned hard on him, I know that. You remember what he was like the first night you met him, all turquoise and big hats and comedy foreigner- and that was toned down, because I told him Carson was the classy sort. It got a lot worse than that.”

Wallace dearly wishes he could see better, what was happening; the way the chair creaks back suggests that Angel Eyes finds this line of inquiry none too reassuring.

“How is his poker? Professionally speaking- I wasn’t paying the closest attention to him that night, you understand.“

“Not that great. Better at reading people than I am, but his betting’s terrible. No, we were going to have to find something else to do sooner or later, and I didn’t want to come ask you for help. Not just because I was being selfish, either. I knew what you were. I didn’t want to expose him to that...” Joseph trails off. “It’s a fucking strange sort of innocence he’s got, have you noticed? Like he expects the entire world to want him dead in a ditch, but he doesn’t see why that should embitter him any. It’s worth protecting.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“Well, good....”

“So what made you change your mind, in the end?”

Why Joseph begins to laugh, then, is a mystery to Wallace; but then, so’s most of this conversation. “For one thing, because I missed you- but you wouldn’t be satisfied with that answer, would you? I wouldn’t either. Because I missed you, because I wasn’t inhumane enough to keep us going through hell when I knew we had another choice, not when we were sleeping in the car every night and didn’t know where our next meal was coming from...that’s the thing about saintliness, if you’re alone it’s virtuous. If anyone’s depending on you, it’s just plain sadism.”

“And you fancy yourself as a saint.” Angel Eyes is, Wallace is positive, smirking something rotten.

Joseph stands up then, with a martyr’s contentment. “I’d like to. And without you two around, maybe I’ll manage it. You’re planning to stay on here, aren’t you? Make soup, love Tuco, not do anything that’d get him in trouble?”

“That was the general idea, yes...of course, I did throw away my entire fortune on your behalf, retire from a line of business I happen to have excelled at, and have come to the conclusion you’re an absolute and arrant coward. But you needn’t worry that I’m going anywhere. Tuco’s certainly going to need support, once you abandon him.”

“It’s not the way you think.”

“I don’t care what you make of my opinion, it’s what Tuco thinks- and keeping him from chasing after your worthless hide is going to be a job and a half, have you thought of that?”

“No. He knows that I need to do this sometimes, he’ll be fine...and by the time he realises I’m not coming back, he won’t want to follow me anymore. You’ll take care of that much, I’m giving you every opportunity.”

Angel Eyes reaches out, picks up a pipe; Wallace wrinkles his nose at the unpleasant smell. “The exasperating part of all this is, you assume I’ll do anything to keep him by my side- and the worst of that is, you’re right.”

“You two are good together. Better than I ever was for him.”

“Planning to even give him the choice, before you go?”

“Of course I am. Benedict?”

There is a long, long silence during which nothing happens at all; then Angel Eyes begins to laugh. It’s zesty, heartfelt, not an uncanny demon’s voice.

He would, Wallace decides, have preferred a demon voice.

“Benedict,” Joseph says, laying a hand on the sofa; but not going near, not touching him at all. “I don’t understand. This has always worked before.”

“He sleeps better these days,” Angel says, still chuckling. “Not nearly so jumpy anymore- haven’t you noticed?”

He reaches out and pulls a pack towards him. Settles it on his lap. The action means nothing to Wallace.

It apparently means something to Joseph, though; there’s a petulant, almost childish whine in his voice. “That’s not fair.”

“No. It isn’t.”

Joseph bangs the door, as he goes out; Benedict stirs. “Blondie? Hey- where’d he- I guess I fell asleep again, huh?”

“Understandably. Yeats has that effect on many people.”

“Oh, but I was trying this time- they were short, I understood them. Maybe too well, that one about the mask. But at least we have the place to ourselves now-”

Wallace decides to leave, then. Fascinating as this story is, his demon has no plans to wreck this sanctuary; so he doesn’t need to hear any more.

The satisfying weight of the rosary in his pocket helps to soothe his spirit; he welcomes in the calm, as he begins the brief familiar prayers. For Joseph’s sake, he decides.

Scapular. Joseph had flipped it, told him to call. He’d won and chosen Paul.

”You’re an idiot. Paul’s never going to fuck you or anyone else, he’s about as holy as they come. Tuco’s much better fun.”

”That’s what I love about him,” Wallace had said. “That purity. That committed celibacy...it’ll keep me holy too, living up to his standards.”

And given all that’s happened to Joseph since, he can’t help feeling that virtue’s proved its own reward.

#70s au #the good the bad and the ugly #I've gone with Joe as Blondie's legal name #cos Wallace is hardly going to think of him as Blondie #catholic #too much listening to Echo and the Bunnymen #oh tags

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kristallioness · 6 years

Text

Heaven on earth

Summary: Aang and Katara discover the beauty of an old pagoda in the Earth Kingdom, located in a sacred place for the air nomads.

Word count: 2,375

Author's note: This is 1/2 of the prompts that I submitted this year and which eventually got chosen (the other one didn't, again)! I wanted to submit this specific prompt because I already had an idea for it last year when someone first submitted it under the name "Sacred (Place)", but it didn't make the final cut. Now I can finally share what I had in mind and why I wanted to write it. The idea came to me when I watched the 4th episode of "Kaks Kanget Kagu-Aasias" ("The two tough ones in South-Eastern Asia"), which was an Estonian TV series running in spring 2017. The two tough ones, Kristjan Jõekalda and Teet Margna, are our own local, famous, very rich, funny and beloved Estonian TV hosts/entertainers. They've travelled through South-America (Ecuador, Peru, Argentina, Chile), Russia, India, the United States of America and their last journey took them across 4 countries in South-Eastern Asia, one of them being Myanmar. In Myanmar, they visited Bagan and introduced the Shwesandaw Pagoda, where Teet (being the braver one in the bunch) climbed to the top floor to have the most marvellous view of the sun setting. That breathtaking view and the entire landscape filled with so many beautiful temples was what inspired me to write this story with Aang and Katara. I could just imagine them exploring a similar place in their world. Set postwar, prior to "The Promise" trilogy.

----------x----------

"You sure you don't wanna come with us?" Aang asked for the nth time that evening. He was holding onto Katara's hand to help her climb up on Appa's saddle.

"Nah, it's just some old ruins. You guys go and have fun. It'll give me a break from your constant oogies," Sokka said as he dumped the pile of firewood in front of him, with Momo leaping closer to sniff whether he'd brought something edible along with him, too.

"Ugh.." Katara merely groaned and rolled her eyes as she hopped to the front of the saddle. Aang airbended himself on Appa's head and grabbed the reins.

"Okay. See you later, Sokka!" he exclaimed cheerfully, waving to both him and his pet winged lemur, who stayed behind to keep the warrior company.

"Appa, yip-yip!"

The sky bison growled and took off from their campsite. The main trio of Team Avatar were camping near the Northern Earth Kingdom while helping the Fire Nation colonials move back to their homeland. After another small village had been cleared of the Fire Nation families, they had the rest of the day off.

"So, where is this place exactly?" Katara wondered as she leaned over the edge of the saddle, crossing her arms and supporting her chin on top.

"About a mile away from our camp. If we walked, it'd take us about an hour to get there. But thanks to Appa, we'll be there in a few minutes!" Aang stated in a chipper tone, glancing over his shoulder to grin at her. He scratched the sky bison's head to thank him for providing them with such a short, cosy ride to their destination. Appa released a long, low growl at the show of affection.

Katara looked down below. They were flying over a territory full of thick fir forests, the evening sun that still shined behind them casting shadows over the tall trees and the ground beneath. Soon she could spot a couple of foliage trees in between, the density in general slowly becoming more scarce.

"Look, there it is!" Aang shouted excitedly, pointing a finger straight towards the horizon. When they got closer and Katara lifted her head to look in front, she gasped at the sight.

"Wow!"

She saw hundreds of pyramid-shaped buildings spread across the vast landscape. Gravel roads wreathed with bushes and trees connected them to each other. Plots of neglected farmland filled the empty square spaces in between.

"There's so many of them..."

Katara crawled to the side of the saddle and peeked over the edge. She was amazed by this place to say the least. Aang tugged at the reins a little bit to let Appa fly in a more relaxed manner so they could enjoy the view.

"These are all temples, stupas, pagodas, sanctuaries and monasteries. About 2,200 to 2,500 are still standing, though there might be even less now because I'm not sure how much damage these old structures received during the war.." he explained, scratching the back of his head for a moment.

"But thousands of years ago, there used to be more than 10,000 of them. They were built and used by air nomads from different villages, who didn't live too far away from each other. These small villages began to merge and turn into bigger groups of air nomads living together, until they decided to reside in only one sacred temple, which later became the Northern Air Temple."

Katara thought that it made sense, since they were in this part of the Earth Kingdom that remained very close to the Northern Air Temple.

"These plains are called 'the sea of temples'."

"I can see why," she giggled since it did seem like there was no end to these ancient buildings. They were flying right in the middle of this earthly sea, surrounded by something from each cardinal point, no matter where they looked.

"Do you wanna see one of my favourite places in the world?"

Besides his tone, his enthusiasm reflected from that familiar shimmer in his grey eyes as Aang gazed at her. It must've been something special to him if she distinguished that certain look in his eyes. Katara chuckled, then returned his warm smile.

"Of course, sweetie. Show me."

She watched how Aang guided Appa down closer to the ground, changing their course towards one of the highest pagodas nearby. He knew exactly where they were going and why. A small cloud of dust and gravel formed around the sky bison's feet as he landed in front of the pagoda. The airbender grabbed his staff before he jumped off the sky bison's head and thanked him by scratching the fur behind his ear.

"Nice job, buddy! It's been a long day. Get some rest while Katara and I go exploring around this pagoda."

Appa grunted, laying his head on his front paws and closing his big brown eyes to take a short nap. In the meantime, Katara had slid down his tail. Having dusted her tunic, she walked over to her boyfriend.

"So, where to now?"

"We're gonna climb all the way up there!" Aang said, slowly pointing his finger up along the staircase that led to the fifth level of the pagoda. The building itself had five square-shaped floors where people could walk around on, with a cylindrical stupa in the center decorating the top.

He grabbed Katara's hand and laced their fingers together as they approached the bottom of the stairs. At first as they began climbing up, it was Aang who led the way, always being a step in front of her and maintaining a good grip on her hand.

Katara followed a step behind him. Each step was practically up to her knees, hence the climb progressed in a rather slow pace. She counted the number of steps it took for them to get to the first terrace. More than 11 of those steps later, halfway up to the second level, she tripped when her foot got caught behind one of them.

Katara yelped as she lost her balance and began falling backwards, but she didn't even manage to blink before she was already back upright and in Aang's embrace. He saved her by catching her just in time.

"Katara! Are you okay?"

Her heart dropped and her diamond blue eyes grew wide as she met his worried gaze. Luckily, Aang had reacted fast enough and tugged at her hand to pull her back up to his side. She'd landed a step higher right next to him. His free hand was wrapped around her shaky body to hold her steady now.

Katara glanced behind and saw a few pebbles making their way down the stairs, dropping to the wider platform on the first level a couple of steps below. She took a very deep, calming breath.

"Y-yeah, I'm okay.." she stammered, holding her hands close to her chest. She felt her heart beating fast after she had a slight scare.

"You have to be more careful. This climb is pretty steep," Aang reprimanded her a little bit. He frowned when he saw how scared she looked and gifted her with a kiss on the cheek, rubbing her arm to comfort her.

"C'mon, let's take these final steps together and then have a nice walk around the pagoda before we continue. Okay?"

"Mhmm.." she hummed and nodded in agreement, her gaze fixed right in front of her feet. After that, they began walking up side by side, literally. Aang declared each step they took out loud as they moved one step at a time. He held his arm tightly around her waist to prevent her from falling again, supporting his own weight on the tip of his staff.

"Just one more.." he said as they lifted their left feet in unison, followed by their right ones. They'd reached the second terrace.

"There we go.. Let's take a break, sweetie."

"Sounds good," Katara agreed, heaving a sigh of relief. She was still shook from the near tumble as she let Aang give her a tour around the pagoda.

She entwined their hands as they strolled along the line of stones that'd been piled up on the edges of the terraces to form protective barriers. She gently ran her free hand over the rough pieces of earth while listening to her boyfriend talk about the history behind these old structures. She hummed now and again, showing that she was paying attention.

The cracks in the stones and the crumbled parts in the barriers betrayed just how old the pagoda really was when she saw them up close. Katara didn't wanna damage these old ruins any more than they already were. She wanted them to preserve their original state.

As they reached the back of the pagoda, her fear seemed to have slowly faded away. She wore a loving smile on her lips as she gazed at the horizon, marvelling at all the other buildings that stretched out over miles while Aang pointed at some of them and told tidbits about their origin. At least the ones he knew something about.

By the time they came full circle and arrived back at the stairs, she'd practically forgotten about the small incident. She instinctively wrapped her arm around Aang's waist and kept close to his side as they continued climbing to the top, one step at a time.

Less than ten minutes later, they'd finally made it up to the highest terrace safe and sound. As soon as they took a few steps away from the stairs, Aang hopped in front of her and stopped them in their tracks.

"Close your eyes, and don't peek!"

Katara giggled and did as she was told. She felt how he gently grabbed her hands, slowly lifting them up to cover her face with them.

"You're not peeking, are you?"

"Mkmm.." she replied, shaking her head. Aang held onto her shoulders to help her move. She sensed how he turned her around and they treaded closer to the barrier.

"What are you doing?" Katara wondered, a hint of excitement in her tone.

"Trust me. I wanna show you something. Be careful with your steps, you might trip behind a rock!" he warned her again, trying to guide her through a path where there weren't any bumps. They stopped in front of the wall that reached up to their waists.

"Are your eyes still closed?"

"Mhmm."

Katara heard how Aang dropped his staff somewhere, after which he grabbed her hands and lowered them onto the grained stones in front of her. He checked whether she was peeking.

"Are you ready?"

She chuckled, a wide grin decorating her features when she nodded to him.

"Then open your eyes."

She gasped, her hands landing back on her mouth. They were facing towards the stunning sunset that fell upon the plains. Neither of them could see it from the second terrace down below since it wasn't high enough, and she hadn't noticed it behind her back while they were busy climbing to where they were now.

"Aang.. this is beautiful!" was all she could muster as she clapped her hands together. He took a step closer and snaked an arm around her middle, pulling her by his side.

"I know. That's why I wanted you to come here. The sunsets in this place are some of the most beautiful ones in the entire world."

He was right. Katara leaned forward to place her elbows on the barrier, supporting her chin in the palms of her hands. Aang followed her example as he supported himself against the rocky wall.

They simply stood there in silence, enjoying the sunset, admiring how the shadows of the temples fell to the ground and onto the flora surrounding them. Katara felt enchanted by this gorgeous scenery. She averted her gaze back towards Aang when she heard him sniff. She noticed that he looked a bit sad. He wasn't crying, but it was evident that he was trying really hard to hold himself back.

"This.. this reminds you of home, doesn't it?"

He didn't look at her. He blinked and rubbed his right cheek with the back of his hand, the side of his face that she couldn't see from that angle. She guessed that he was crying. He nodded to her.

"Mhmm.."

Katara didn't say another word. She grabbed his free hand and gave it a squeeze. Aang stared at their entwined hands, then squeezed his eyes shut and softly bumped his temple against hers.

She felt how something wet trickled against her cheek. When she opened her eyes, she saw that Aang was crying a little. He sniffed and wiped his cheek dry by rubbing it against hers this time. She returned the gesture by fondly rubbing their noses together as well. She wrapped her other arm around him and hugged him as tight as she could.

"Thank you, Katara," he murmured, then kissed her cheek. She hummed in delight.

"No, thank you, Aang.. for bringing me here."

Katara loved it when he shared bits and pieces of his culture with her. It was something that she felt was unique in their relationship, something that nobody else could be apart of. She wouldn't have wanted this lovely evening to go any other way.

When Aang opened his grey eyes and met her loving gaze, she cupped his chin and ran her thumb across his lips, making him smile. She pressed a tender kiss there, releasing a short giggle afterwards. He rubbed at his cheeks to dry the last of his tears as they finished watching how the sun fell behind the mountain range in the horizon.

"So, how are we gonna get back down? Would you like to climb down or glide down?" Aang asked, scratching the back of his head. Katara already knew the answer to that question.

She giggled and pulled him beside her, gripping his waist firmly. Aang grabbed his staff and opened it into a glider, giving them a boost with his airbending to hop into the air. They glided back down to Appa so they could head back to their campsite and regale Sokka with stories about their adventures in the sea of temples.

#Kataang Week #sacred #Kataangtag #Kataang #the original Gaang #Team Avatar #Aang #Katara #Sokka #Appa #Momo #ATLA #my fanfiction #mine #shards of Kristal

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boarix · 6 years

Text

Wraith in the Ruins: A Fallout 4 Story Part IV

Concussive Fracture

Trigger warnings: canon violence, language, gun & drug use. Suggestive/mature content

Game spoilers!

Bloody Mess Warning!

Nick Valentine was hyperventilating. Catching sight of his former body, coupled with the intense, overwhelming emotions that permeated the room, he found the simple act of breathing to be immeasurably difficult. He would have fallen as soon as he stood up from the memory lounger had Hancock not caught him. Wraith produced a paper bag, seemingly from nowhere and passed it to them with instructions to, “just breathe”.

Nearly everyone in the room was crying: Wraith, Hancock, Ellie and even Valentine himself. Clearly uncomfortable Dr. Amari excused herself politely.

Standing against the wall, Deacon and MacCready remained dry-eyed. The former merc called out his congratulations, even though the whole affair was rather unsettling to him. Seeing as how the crying, hugging and all around back slapping didn’t seem to be winding down, he found a chair to plop in and tried not to look too impatient. The angle afforded him a rare look at Deacon’s eyes and he was surprised to see the high level of anxiety they held. The fact that he was directing it all straight at Wraith made MacCready’s hackles rise. Something was wrong.

Before MacCready could raise a fuss Hancock waved his arms to gain everyone’s attention and began trying to herd the group to the stairs. He had a special dinner planned in honor of Valentines first ever meal and was obviously excited. As they passed him, MacCready could see that Valentine and Ellie were holding hands. Fingers interlocked, it appeared very intimate. Deciding to let it go for now, he afforded them a smile and gave the detective a pat on the back of his own.

Sniffling, Wraith stopped in front of Deacon and gave him a grateful smile, “Thank you for this. Really. I know what it involves… what this means.”

“Hang back a second.” Deacon’s tone was all business.

Giving Deacon a dirty look, Hancock was inclined to tell him to piss off but moved on when Wraith gently touched his shoulder. As he passed MacCready he hooked an arm through one of his, “C’mon, little brother, the spooks need a whisper session.”

“Your guy did an amazing job on Val’s face. It still looks like him, but with… ya know, more skin.”

“If anyone is deserving, it’s good ol’ Synth Nick.” Deacon’s smile abruptly vanished and he removed his sunglasses, “I have to talk to you about the Gunners. You know that they started to recruit raiders to pad their numbers? Well, it’s beginning to back-fire on them. You have been destroying their leadership and things are… chaotic to say the least.”

“Not to sound narcissistic, but I’ve been doing that on purpose. I figure if things get bad enough they might want to play nice and try and see if the grass is greener on the Minutemen side of things.”

“Oh, things are bad that’s for sure! They’re running low on ammo, food… everything but chems. They can’t raid your settlements without being annihilated thanks to Daddy Danse and all his baby dragons… Uh, let’s agree that I never said ‘Daddy Danse’.”

“Ha! Not a chance! And it’s ‘Dragoon’ not ‘dragon’.”

“Right, ‘Drag Race Danse’, got it. All joking aside, the place is a powder keg. Clans are beginning to form and they are doing a lot of in-fighting and cannibalizing.” He shuddered in revulsion.

“How is it you are so well informed?” Her eyes grew wide as the realization hit her, “Wait… don’t tell me you went to the Plaza? Deacon! You can’t do that! You are far too important to the Railroad to be running interference for me. Not that I don’t appreciate the information and warning. Well… maybe I’ll go and drop in; be the lit match, so to speak.”

“No!” Deacon reached out and grabbed her arms; driven by his urgency to make uncharacteristic physical contact, “You are the one thing they all agree on!” Giving her a little shake, he tried to drive his point home, “The clan that claims your head will establish itself as the leader. Your death has become the priority of the entire Gunner nation!”

“So what else is new?”

“This isn’t like it was before… the Gunners… had rules and followed orders. They wouldn’t have come at you without measuring acceptable loss. Now, it’s a free-for-all.”

“What would you have me do?”

“Stay here. Stay in Goodneighbor.” He gripped her arms tighter as she shook her head, “Hancock can protect you here. Hell, you know he would love to have you and MacCready all to himself.”

She gently but firmly removed herself from his grasp, “You want me to hide. No, I’m sorry but I can’t just abandon my settlements like that. I have so many projects going… Plus, Shaun is still in Sanctuary and I really should spend more time with him.”

“You have Codsworth, Curie, Dogmeat and Danse all there with him. Strong, Cait and th’ Hounds are at the Rocket… you know Shaun will be safe. You know the further he is from you the safer he is!”

Wraith let her pride and anger override any amount of self-preservation, “Let them come at me! I’ll rip them to pieces and feed em to Strong!” Her eyes burned with a berserker’s fire and she flexed her hands menacingly, “I’m not going to hide from them and I won’t let them destroy everything I’ve built.”

“The general doesn’t FIGHT ON THE FRONT LINES!” Spittle flew as panic drove him to anger. Feeling the blood burning in his cheeks, he knew he had to be as red as Wraith was. He realized yelling at her would never work, so after several deep breaths, Deacon tried one last time to appeal to her sense of reason, “That’s part of it; you are the sole reason the Commonwealth is on an up-swing. If you were to be killed now…”

Waving her hand dismissively, Wraith cut him off, “I have already considered that and have contingencies in place in the event of my death. There is a whole file cabinet in Sanctuary filled with plans and ideas, resource allocation… a will if you will.” She tried a smile out on him for the sake of the play on words, but apparently he wasn’t up for smiles, “Everything will move forward just fine if I buy it. It won’t matter in the grand scheme of things.”

Deacon put his sunglasses back on and motioned for her to precede him up the stairs. Then softly, almost whispering, “It’ll matter to me.”

A few days later Hancock, MacCready and Wraith were all jogging to Sanctuary via Graygarden. Someone had alerted the Minuteman to a potential attack by the Rust Devils and Wraith had agreed to look into it. Although lacking a unit from the Heavy Dragoons, Graygarden was positively bristling with turrets of various lethalities. She found it unlikely that the Devils would be that stupid, but still, a threat was a threat.

The addition of Hancock was a surprise and Wraith suspected that there had been a, “Keep Wraith Alive in Spite of Herself” meeting between her friends. She didn’t mind as it was rare the three of them got to spend this much time together. She enjoyed listening to the two men’s easy banter and especially loved it when Hancock would try to fluster the younger man with his innuendo and blatant flirting. MacCready’s reactions varied on his moods and he would sometimes flirt back. On those occasions Wraith was left feeling… warm.

As the trio moved along and the conversation lapsed into comfortable silence, she found herself watching how the two men moved: MacCready had an easy, loping gait that reminded her of a lanky wolf and Hancock had the smooth grace of a hunting cat. Both men had incredible endurance and she knew for a fact that Mac could run the entire length of the Commonwealth without breaking stride, (as long as it wasn’t raining). Her thoughts took a slight deviation as she imagined other ways their endurance might benefit her.

Stop it, Wraith. Imagine how red your face is right now… god forbid Hancock asks me… or looks at me… Just, stop it.

Once in Graygarden, Supervisor White seemed surprised by the offer of aid, “There have been no Devils skulking around here Daaarrrrling!”

Unconvinced, Wraith and her boys hung out snacking on mutfruit for a time. Finally giving up, they left with only an hour or so of daylight left. MacCready grumbled about running through the night but Wraith only smiled blithely at him.

As if the weather had read Wraith’s earlier thoughts, storm clouds began building just as the sun lowered on the horizon. MacCready’s standard “rain whine” kicked in, “… and we’ll be even more miserable…”

“Christ, little brother! Are you a cat or what?”

“It’s fine, guys. It’s dark anyway so let’s just find a place to stop.”

The two men exchanged a look, “Are you sure that’s wise, sister? There isn’t much out here at the moment.”

Wraith waved his concerns away, “There’s an armored truck just on the other side of this ridge. It’ll be cozy but should do the trick.”

After a cold dinner Hancock volunteered to take first watch but Wraith objected, “You guys never wake me up for my shift!”

“Ok, I’ll make you a deal. If you actually fall asleep, I promise I’ll wake MacCready up for his shift. But you are on three, you feel me?”

Putting her hand on MacCready’s chest and looking him right in the eye, Wraith made sure there could be no misunderstanding, “You wake me up.”

The closeness and physical contact sent a flutter of butterflies through MacCready’s guts, “Yeah. Sure.” The fluttering intensified as she gave his chest a pat before climbing into her bed-roll.

Hancock watched the interaction with a wolf-like grin.

The night passed uneventfully with the rain stopping around midnight. MacCready dutifully if not reluctantly woke Wraith for the third watch. Exiting the truck she found the cool, pre-dawn air to be more refreshing than the fitful sleep she had.

Just as the first light of the sun was casting a pink glow to the sky, she felt eyes on her. She tried to tell herself that it was just Deacon’s infectious paranoia, especially since there wasn’t anything showing up on her Pip-Boy.

It might be radstag or one of those unfortunate-looking crows….

Deciding to trust her instinct rather than technology she reentered the truck to wake the boys. She placed a gentle hand on Hancock’s shoulder and he was instantly awake, “It’s okay, I just have a bad feeling is all. Wake Mac up I’m going back outside.”

If she had meant gently she didn’t specify so Hancock smacked him across the face with his bed-roll.

“The shit?!”

“Awwww! You did a swear! I’m tellin’.”

“Nice… real mature.”

“Hot damn, MacCready! Is that for me? You really shouldn’t have.”

“Well, who sez it’s for you?”

“As the sexiest individual in the truck…”

“Ha!”

As much as she was enjoying their back-and-forth, she was also prickling with ominous foreboding, which caused her to shush them more harshly than she meant to, “Quiet! Hancock, go do a wide sweep. Mac, you stay by the truck and both of you stay low.”

As Hancock crept off through the tall grass and scrub, Wraith pulled MacCready to her to whisper in his ear, “I’m going hunting. You stay in cover! You hear me? I don’t know how many there are, so stay the fuck down!”

With her hand on the back of his neck and mouth just brushing his cheek, despite the danger they were in, MacCready felt the flicker of heat growing in his stomach, “Okay boss, I’m in the grass.” As she melted away into the early dawn gloom, he whispered to himself, “Goddamn she’s scary.”

Hancock encountered them first, south of the ridge. Had the Gunners sniped him from the high-ground they might have had a chance. As it was, the 5 person group, equipped mainly for melee, would find themselves staggeringly deficient against the ghoul.

At least one of them had a powerfist…

Hancock rushed the powerfist wielder, who surprised by how quickly the ghoul closed the distance, took a step backward, placing all his weight on one leg. At the last second Hancock dropped and with one hand, drove the heel of his palm into the Gunner’s locked knee buckling it. As the Gunner fell forward Hancock’s other hand reached for his throat, crushing it easily. Smoothly using his opponent’s momentum, he popped the dying man’s body up and over his own, throwing it onto one of his comrades.

Spinning away to his left, Hancock’s right arm flicked out and a small throwing knife suddenly bloomed from a 3rd Gunner’s throat. Appearing to have almost precognitive reflexes, Hancock easily caught the baseball bat as his 4th opponent swung for his head. Trapping the bat under his arm he then drove his palm into the Gunner’s locked elbow, causing it to bend in the opposite direction that nature intended. A quick knife flash across the throat ended her agonized scream.

A shot rang out and Hancock imagined he could feel the rush of air as the bullet narrowly missed his face. He threw yet another knife as a distraction as he rushed her, twisting her arm down and pushing a knife through her hand, pinning it to her own haunch. Picking up her dropped pipe-pistol he shot her point blank in the face.

All this before the last Gunner even got out from under his dead companion’s body. The last thing he saw was Hancock’s smiling face.

MacCready heard the reverberating crack of the pistol, “Hancock…” He very much disliked how he couldn’t see either of his two best friends. Then, higher up the hill to the north he saw a brief flash of light: the sun reflecting off of a scope.

Wraith had 3 kills of her own at this time, all in total silence. However, her 4th target somehow perceived her at the last second and the two rose out of cover, grappling.

Wraith didn’t see the sniper. Wraith was going to be shot. Wraith was going to die.

“No…”

What happened next appeared to Wraith as though in slow motion, as if she had taken a hit of Jet.

MacCready rose from cover, his focus trained solely on the threat to Wraith. Pulling his trigger, he killed the sniper. At the same moment, to his left, an unseen Gunner assassin rose from cover and shot the young man in the head from only 6 feet away. As his head snapped back, a spray of blood fountained through the air like a nightmare rainbow. Then MacCready’s body crumpled into the grass.

“NOOOOGGGGAAAAARRRRGGHHHHHHHHAAAAA!”

Hancock was retrieving his knives and grumbling aloud how hard it was to, “find good dance partners these days…” when he heard Wraith’s agonized scream. It ripped through him and left him clutching his chest above his heart, “No. No. No. No!”

Wraith was beating someone to death with a human arm. Most likely it was the arm’s former owner. Covered head to toe in blood and worse, she was roaring incoherently. Hancock rushed to her side yelling her name. She turned and raised her macabre club above her head, preparing to swing it at him.

Recognition flashed across her berserk maddened face and she began sobbing and gesturing with the limb as if it were a pointer, “He was right here! I saw him! Where is he?”

Taking the arm from her, Hancock flung it away, “Wraith, is any of this your blood?”

“I can’t find him. He was just here!”

“Sister, are you hurt? Where the fuck is MacCready?” In his fear and panic he grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her none too gently.

She looked up at him with a face so lost in child-like fear it broke his heart, “They shot him, John. I saw him die. But now… now I can’t find… his body.”

Hancock stood in complete shock, “You can’t… his…?”

“He fell right here. Oh… oh God…”

Letting go of her shoulders, Hancock closed his eyes. He didn’t want to look for MacCready’s dead body.

If there’s no… then he can’t be gone.

“Wraith, if he was… if he was dead he would be here. The dead don’t move themselves around and you’ve ripped apart everyone else here that could have moved him, right?” Hancock took a deep shuddering breath, “He must have gotten up and went for better cover; it probably wasn’t a kill-shot.” He saw a faint glimmer of hope spark in her eyes.

Oh please, please let me be right!

Calling his name, they each went in opposite directions. Wraith found his hat and was disheartened by how blood-soaked it was. The two rifle bullets he kept in the brim were missing and she was overcome by a completely irrational need to find them. Palming through the tall grass she almost didn’t hear Hancock calling for her. Gripping his hat to her chest she ran to the ghoul’s waving form, terrified at what she might see.

MacCready was walking north. His steps where stumbling and feral-like. The entire left side of his face and head was covered in blood and it was running freely down his neck. Dragging his rifle behind him, his arm was bent at a weird angle. He looked like a zombie.

Unlike a zombie, and somehow even more disturbing than his appearance, was his halting and rambling running commentary, “Save… her. Not this time. NooooOOOOOO!”

Chocking back sobs, Wraith ran and stood in front of him. Grabbing him by the shoulders she tried to get him to halt his march. He tried to side-step around her and would have fallen, but once again Hancock was there to catch a dear friend.

MacCready continued to push against Wraith with surprising strength and was almost dragging Hancock behind him, talking the entire time, “I can’t… not again… ALONE! Noooooo. I’m not going to let her die this time. I’ll fuCKING KILL ALLL YOU MOTHER FUCKING SONS OF COCKS!”

Hancock was unwilling to throw him bodily to the ground but was finding it impossible to stop him gently. It was as if he had developed super mutant strength, “What the hell is wrong with him?!”

“He’s concussed… it looks like the bullet ricocheted… I can’t see! We have to get him to sit down.”

“Hey, little brother, it’s okay…”

“No! I have to sAVE WRAITH! FUCK YOU!”

“I’m right here, Mac! You saved me.”

Bringing his rifle to bear, he was actively fighting them now, “Nooooo. She can’t die! Not again. She don’t see…”

Letting go Wraith took a deep breath in and in her loudest “momma” voice told him off, “Robert Joseph MacCready! Sit your MOTHER FUCKING ASS DOWN!”

MacCready dropped to his knees like a stone. Looking up at her with a shocked, hurt expression his lip quivered, “You yelled at me.” He turned to Hancock, “she said ‘fuck’!”

“She sure did, little brother. She means business, so you better mind her.”

“Well, okay.”

Pulling his matted, blood-soaked hair away from the wound, she could see a significant gash, down to bone, just above his ear. “I’ll treat the laceration and stop the bleeding, but we need to get him back to Goodneighbor; back to Dr. Amari. I don’t know the first thing about brain injury.”

MacCready was staring at Hancock with a confused look, “Hey, you look just like Hancock used to.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah. He’s like, my favorite guy. He’s so good but he doesn’t think so. He’s always helping annoying people. If it wasn’t for him giving me a chance when no one else would I’d never met Wraith. She saved my son. I love her, but I’m pretty sure she’s in love with Hancock.”

Blushing furiously, Wraith refused to look at Hancock, “He’s still moving around too much. Would you hold him please?”

“Sure thing, sister.” Easing MacCready back onto his butt, Hancock wrapped his arms around him from his right side, “Hold still, little brother.”

Sighing, MacCready leaned his head back onto Hancock’s chest, which put his head at a perfect angle to Wraith, “Hancock calls me that too. Sometimes it pisses me off but then I like it sometimes. This is really nice. You know, you remind me a lot of Hancock.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“I miss Lucy,” MacCready’s cerulean eyes filled with tears, “she was my wife before she died.” Suddenly very still, his eyes locked onto Wraith’s light green ones with such intensity that she stopped her work and leaned back from him, “Lucy?” His arms shot up out of Hancock’s embrace and he cradled Wraith’s face in his hands. He pulled her to him in a deeply passionate kiss.

Hancock made a strange sound, as if he’d been hit in the stomach with a powerfist.

Pulling away, Wraith was as red as a tato, “No, Mac. I’m Wraith, not Lucy.” Standing up she turned her back to the two men, trying to get herself under control, “We should go. We need to get him to Amari fast. We can take turns carrying him and we need to keep him awake.”

“I’ve got him.” Hancock’s tone was annoyed, “C’mon, little brother, time for a piggy-back ride.”

“Oh cool! Fun!”

“Now I know yer concussed…”

Wraith was repacking her field med kit, “Okay, you can have first turn, but I assure you I can carry him. Plus I have Buffout if I need it.”

“I said I’ve got him!” Hancock snapped at her, “It’s bad enough you took him in the first place.”

The trip back to Goodneighbor was awkward to say the least. Wraith couldn’t understand Hancock’s sudden mood change. He had never been the jealous type before.

It’s not like there is really anything to be jealous of, is there? Who is he mad about? Is he mad that Mac kissed me? Clearly he’s not in his right mind! What the fuck does he mean by me ‘taking him’? He thinks I stole Mac?

They did their best to keep MacCready awake by asking him questions about whatever confused and random events he was babbling on about. He kept combining Lucy and Wraith into one person. Worse still was when he would actively fight against Hancock so he could return to save Wraith.

In desperation, she turned on the radio and suggested that MacCready sing along. It wasn’t working until Hancock started to sing, Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall, then, MacCready immediately stopped struggling and was listening with rapt attention to the ghoul’s voice.

Amari seemed optimistic, “There is nothing I can give him, but I believe with proper rest he will be himself again. I would strongly suggest he stays here under observation for the next few days, however.”

Hancock told Wraith to go and clean the gore off of herself in Irma’s shower, “You’ll freak him out if he wakes up, I mean really wakes up, and sees you looking like a mutant’s meat bag.”

Irma was more than happy to lend Wraith her shower as well as a (surprisingly tame) dress to change into. As she stepped off the landing, she could see Hancock had just finished getting MacCready changed. Lacking any real hospital gowns, he had put him in a pair of pajama bottoms and a bathrobe.

The silence was leaden and uncomfortable. Hancock felt compelled to do what he felt was necessary, but it would be one of the hardest things he had ever done.

Jesus; look at her! She’s fucking adorable in a dress! She looks so tired and sad… It’s best though. It’s best for them. I’m… I’m in their way.

“Well, I hope you’re happy.” He could see her confusion and that his words had already hurt her, “Deacon tried to warn you. He told you and yet, here we are.”

“I’m sorry, Hancock. I thought I had it under control. I guess I’ve been feeling invincible lately.”

“You may be but what about the rest of us?” He drew his hand through the air above MacCready’s unconscious form like he was showing off a new car, “How about the kid here? Does he look invincible to you?”

Fight back, Wraith.

Sniffling she hung her head, abashed, “You’re right. I should have seen through the false Graygarden report. They knew exactly where we would be… I should have left him here with you in Goodneighbor.”

Fight back, Wraith.

Hancock snorted, “You would have been killed. This idiot clearly is in love with you; what would your death do to him?”

Fight back… please…

“Do you care what the consequences of your actions are? Do you give a fuck about any of us?!”

That did it.

“What the fuck!?” She stabbed a finger at his chest, forcing him a step backward, “How could you even fucking ask me that? All that I’ve done has been for all of you!” Throwing her hands out wide she gestured emphatically, “I’ve practically rebuilt the entire fucking Commonwealth for you!”

“Yes, that’s right, Queen Fucking Wraith.” He turned away from her and headed for the stairs, “Well I’m done. I’m not going to follow you around, watching you killing yourself and anyone dumb enough to be with you!”

She followed him to the landing, hands out palms up, her body asking questions that she couldn’t articulate, “Are you running from me, John McDonough?”

Hancock stopped for a second on the first floor landing. With his back to her, Wraith couldn’t see how much pain he was in. Then, squaring his shoulders, he left her standing in the stairwell, tears on her cheeks.

“Wraith?” Whipping around she could see MacCready standing in the basement doorway. Arms out to either side, he was using the doorframe to hold himself upright. He had removed the bathrobe and was shivering. “What happened to me? I feel really sick. Where’s Hancock?”

“Oh, Mac, you shouldn’t be standing.” Wiping her face hurriedly, she ducked under his arm and led him back to the clinic bed. “You got shot saving my stupid ass.”

“Oh… yeah?” He was reluctant to let her go, wrapping both his arms around her. “You’re so tiny without all your stuff on. You smell good. Are you wearing a dress? You look so cute!”

“Thanks, kid.” She carefully disentangled herself from his hug and eased him down on the bed, “And you… you are still loopy. Don’t move too fast or you’ll barf.”

“Ugh! Why do you call me ‘kid’ all the time? I’m adult! And I have a freaking kid of my own!”

“I imagine it’s for the same reason that Hancock calls you ‘little brother’.”

“Where is he?” MacCready straightened up in alarm and winced at the sudden movement.

“He’s fine. He will… be back before you know it.” The lie was easier at that moment. She would tell him everything later.

Well… maybe not everything…

Even back under the blanket, MacCready was still shivering, “It’s kinda cold down here.”

“It’s because you took the robe off.” She went and picked it up off the floor and offered it back to him.

He shook his head, wincing, “I don’t like the way it wraps around my legs.”

“I’ll see if I can find another blanket.”

MacCready caught her hand as she moved away, “Would you… lay down with me?”

Wraith’s mind was a swirling mass of emotions as MacCready snuggled up to her.

“This is nice. I should get shot more often. You smell nice.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Thank you for reading! Like what you read? Looking for more? Please see the master-link in my tags: Wraith in the Ruins. I’ll also be reblogging it from time to time. As always any questions/comments/concerns my ask is open. =^..^=

#wraith in the ruins #deacon #fallout deacon #fallout deacon fanfic #maccready #rj maccready #maccready fanfic #nick valentine #hancock #john hancock #fallout hancock fanfic #fallout #fallout 4 #fallout 4 fanfic

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easyhairstylesbest · 4 years

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77 Valentine's Day Gifts You Can Get on Amazon Prime

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I obtained a pair of the latest Beats (the brand’s most affordable headphones to date) for testing a few months back and haven’t stopped using them since. Delivering crystal clear sound, 12 hours of battery life, and a rapid fast charge, these bluetooth wireless headphones are overall better than headphones I’ve spent at least 4x more on over the years.

7/8 Jogger Travel Pants

Editor’s note: I own these joggers and am in love with them. What first sold me on these was that reviewers mentioned how similar these are to Lululemon’s On The Fly jogger, which cost about three times more. Fast forward to me owning 4 pairs and recently FaceTiming with my grandma who was rocking her own pair as well. A great gift for any woman who likes comfortable, flattering pants.

Reversible Zebra Bathmat in Grey

Jonathan Adler amazon.com

$63.34

Hey babe, take a walk on the wild side… Not when you’re getting out of the tub though. That’s dangerous in an ER-kind of way. Anyway, here’s a cute, dryer-friendly bathmat.

Le Specs. Air Heart Sunglasses

Le Specs. amazon.com

$67.90

If these glamorous and slightly oversized sunnies look familiar it’s because Meghan Markle sported this exact pair during her 2019 baby shower. Shoppers, note that these fan-favorite shades have a track record for selling out fast.

OPRAH’S FAVORITE THINGS 2020

‘Tis The Season Huggie Set

Stella & Haas amazon.com

$29.97

This trio of hypoallergenic freshwater pearl huggies is another covetable find from Oprah’s Favorite Things List this year. Considering how versatile these earrings are, I don’t blame you if you opt to keep a pair for yourself.

UGG Fluffita Slipper

Have a shoe lover on your shopping list? Change their life with UGG’s Fluffita slippers. These fuzzy-feeling platform slippers will elevate all of their favorite loungewear ‘fits.

Mayberry Sheepskin Slipper

EMU Australia amazon.com

$59.95

Cozy gifts remain a failsafe move in 2021, so here’s another pair of chic sheepskin slippers certain to delight.

Emmanuelle Initial Necklace

Jennifer Zeuner Jewelry amazon.com

$154.00

A personalized touch goes a long way in making it look like you didn’t wait until the last minute to pick something out and panic while doing so. Here, a gothic initial pendant from Jennifer Zeuner that subtly channels Regina George’s ‘R’ necklace. More letters are available as well.

Dachsie Ring Holder

This dachshund ring holder takes cute jewelry organization to another level. Perfect for the dog lover who’s constantly rotating her stack.

Layla Bamboo Bed Sheets

Layla Sleep amazon.com

$175.00

$125.00 (29% off)

A sheet upgrade is the gift that keeps on giving. Suitable for sensitive skin types and hot sleepers, Layla Sleep’s 300-thread count Bamboo sheets are soft to the touch and eco-friendly. (Bamboo uses 200x less water than cotton and doesn’t require harsh chemicals in the production process.) The set includes a fitted sheet, top sheet and 2 pillowcases.

PhoneSoap Pro UV Smartphone Sanitizer & Universal Charger

PhoneSoap amazon.com

$119.95

File PhoneSoap’s Pro UV smartphone sanitizer under universally practical gift ideas. In just five minutes, this device is able to kill up to 99.99% of germs thanks to its powerful UV-C light.

Plush Slipper Socks Women

Toes Home amazon.com

$14.99

Amazon reviewers are obsessed with this set of fuzzy socks, which happens to be a steal at this price. (Think 2.4k ratings and counting, with an average of 4.6/5 stars.) A handful of designs are available, but the heart motifs here are especially kitschy-chic.

Alix Mini Top Handle Satchel

3.1 Phillip Lim amazon.com

$695.00

They say the best gifts are the ones you’d want for yourself. Phillip Lim’s versatile Alix Mini top handle bag is proof.

Supreme Glamour

Thames & Hudson amazon.com

Anyone who loves The Supremes or retro glamour will swoon over this new coffee table book, which chronicles the fashion history of the beloved 1960s Motown group. Founding member Mary Wilson tells her friend and co-author, Mark Begu, the whole story of the band.

Gisele Long PJ Set

Eberjey amazon.com

$120.00

Eberjey is practically synonymous with great pajamas. Made from modal and spandex jersey (no polyester!), these PJs are breathable, ridiculously soft and hot sleeper-friendly. Unlike cheaper options out there, you can be sure these will last for years to come.

EDITOR’S FAVORITE

Power Workout Leggings in Black

Sweaty Betty amazon.com

$100.00

To give you a sense of how beloved British brand Sweaty Betty’s power leggings are, one pair has sold every 90 seconds this year. (Editor’s note: I own these and don’t stop talking about how I think they’re the most comfortable and flattering leggings of all time.) New to Amazon Prime, these are still in stock in every size at the time of publication.

Women’s Asili Stacking Rings

Women-founded and sustainably sourced, SOKO makes some of the coolest, vintage-feeling costume jewelry around. Their pieces are handcrafted by artisans Kenya who use recycled brass, upcycled horns and traditional techniques.

Leather Touchscreen Texting and Driving Gloves

If you’re bougie on a budget, check out these Italian cashmere-lined leather gloves which boast over 1.7k ratings. As one reviewer put it: “They are great, and actually fit very well. Beautifully packaged. Could be a gift but I am keeping them!”

Women’s Duality Reversible Sherpa Jacket

Alo Yoga amazon.com

$179.89

Not only is Alo Yoga’s best-selling Duality jacket fun and practical in equal measure, it’s reversible and one side is sherpa. Five other colorways are available too.

Drinking Animals Coloring and Cocktail Recipe Book

Each page in this delightful coloring book opens up to a different animal and new cocktail recipe.

Tombow Dual Brush Pen Art Markers

Editor’s note: I’m a lifelong doodler and Tomboy’s dual tip brush pens are unrivaled when it comes to ease of use and vibrancy. Several color palettes are available in case you’re after something louder too. PS: A bunch are on sale right now, which is rare for the brand.

Apple AirPods with Wireless Charging Case

Few tech gadgets, if any, look as suave as AirPods. Of all the headphones carried on Amazon, these remain the #1 best-selling pair (no exaggeration), and for a limited time only, they’re currently on sale.

No Bounds Wireless Outdoor Speaker

House of Marley amazon.com

$58.78

These aux input speakers from House of Marley (which, fun fact, was founded by Bob Marley’s son, Rohan) boast an impressive ten hours of battery life. Even better? Because they’re dust-proof and waterproof, you and your partner will be able to enjoy these on outdoor adventures and road trips.

Retro Bluetooth Speaker

This ultra-compact speaker is sure to be a crowdpleaser. The indoor/outdoor speaker not only connects with bluetooth, but can be used as an FM radio with AUX connectivity as well, all while delivering impressive sound and 10 hours of battery life. A carrying strap and dust bag are also included, which makes for a sleek presentation.

Bose SoundLink Revolve Wireless Bluetooth Speaker

This sleek indoor/outdoor speaker delivers crystal clear sound quality and long battery life (16 hours!) certain to enhance any user’s listening experience. From true crime podcasts to Netflix to electronic music experiences, these will be a game-changer.

Boy Smells Beeswax & Coconut Wax Kush Candle

Boy Smells amazon.com

$36.00

This Boy Smells best seller doesn’t actually contain any psychoactive hemp-derived extracts, but it’s still lit. Paying homage to the cannabis flower, the scent is warm, fresh and floral.

EDITOR’S FAVORITE

Hand and Skincare Amenity Kit

Grown Alchemist amazon.com

$25.00

Editor’s note: I’m never more than a few feet away from my Grown Alchemist hand creams in the winter. Containing a vanilla and orange peel hand cream, vanilla and geranium day cream and watermelon lip balm, I’d argue this is the most affordable fancy-feeling beauty gift on Amazon. Fun fact, clean Gwyneth Paltrow is a huge fan of this lipgloss.

EltaMD Mineral-Based UV Clear Facial Sunscreen (1.7 oz)

Sunscreen as a gift? Only if it’s from EltaMD’s product line. If you or a loved one who spends a lot of time in the sun hasn’t tried this dermatologist-loved sunscreen line before, ELLE.com highly recommends. (Read Beauty Director Chloe Hall’s full review here.)

Sparkling Water Machine

sodastream amazon.com

$159.95

Kiss wasteful plastic bottles of seltzer from the grocery store goodbye. Set in a sleek monochromatic design, this SodaStream kit includes everything you need to make seltzer at home, including a carbonator.

14k Yellow Gold Hoop Earrings

Tilo Jewelry amazon.com

$69.99

Gold hoops go with everything and somehow always feel cool wearing. Here, a 14k gold pair made in the US that won’t slim down your holiday shopping budget.

Sherpa Trucker Jacket

Levi’s sherpa jackets have been worn by every fashion girl from Gigi Hadid to Zendaya. The denim staple is not only a godsend for complicated transitional temps, but a cozy piece to throw on at home.

Visual Feast: Contemporary Food Photography and Styling

Earning its moniker, Visual Feast is a coffee table fixture that explores food presentation in a myriad of Art forms. From witty jello dishes to painted lobsters, the foodie in your life will find the book’s photography drool-worthy.

Classic Greek Michelangelo David Bust Statue

Beonueni amazon.com

$29.00

Nothing subtly says ‘I’m an Intellectual’ louder than having a decorative bust of a Greek god on display in one’s home. Your loved one won’t see this gift coming, but they’ll love it all the same. (Editor’s note: This is the only item on our list where you have to pay for shipping, but it’s only $2.99.)

Women’s Natural Lace Trim Vest

Iris & Lilly amazon.com

$16.30

White tank tops have defined Tik Tok-era fashion more than any other article of clothing. Gift a set for the culture.

Mentone Half-Zip Sweater

Varley amazon.com

$148.00

This half zip from British athleisure brand Varley is practically dripping in cozy appeal.

Women’s Nori-K Coat

Mackage amazon.com

$790.00

Kindly sidestep the puddle of drool that formed while I gazed at this wool coat. That leather waist belt! The removable bib (!!!). The feminine silhouette that doesn’t sacrifice warmth! She’ll love this because how could anybody not?

Squeaky Parody Plush Dog Toy

Haute Diggity Dog amazon.com

$15.99

A fabulous squeaky toy for a fabulous pup. (Editor’s note: hi, Freddy!!)

Juicy Couture DIY Bracelet Making Kit

Make It Real amazon.com

$19.99

*Puts on Maneater by Nelly Furtado for a quick journey to 2006.* This kitschy DIY bracelet kit will pull at the heart strings of anyone who owned a velour tracksuit in the early oughts. Technically speaking, this set was probably intended for pre-teens, which makes it a good gift youngins who weren’t around for Juicy’s heyday all the same.

14k Gold Linked Diamond Stud Earring

Zoe Chicco amazon.com

$480.00

This 0.13ct diamond stud earring (yes, it’s sold individually and I’m sorry) will be her new favorite earring if she has more than one piercing.

Kitty Espresso Coffee Maker

Stainless steel espresso coffee makers don’t get any chicer than the Bialetti Kitty.

Walkie Talkies

These retro-looking walkie talkies are technically for kids aged 4 through 14; however, these will make a useful gift for any family quarantining together in the suburbs in lieu of a fancy intercom system. These boast a 3 mile range for outside, camping and hiking, as well as a backlit LCD flashlight.

Modern Glass Globe Table Desk Lamp

This sculptural table lamp injects instant modernity and warmth. It includes an LED bulb too, so the design lover you gift this too will be able to set it up and enjoy right away.

Clear Acrylic Bookends (Set of 4)

CY craft amazon.com

$16.97

If you’re after a gift for a book lover that isn’t books, this top-rated set of acrylic bookends works for any decor style.

Enameled Cast Iron Signature Dutch Oven

Le Creuset amazon.com

$349.95

Le Creuset is the gold standard of cookware and their dutch ovens are the lightest on the market. Here, the legendary brand’s signature enameled cast iron Dutch Oven in a gradient motif that brings to mind sunsets and Prada’s fall-winter 2018 collection.

BoostIQ RoboVac 15C MAX

eufy by Anker amazon.com

$279.99

$175.99 (37% off)

It’s hard to come by a list of best robot vacuums online (written by experts who actually tested hundreds of models) where eufy’s RoboVac 15C MAX isn’t included as a budget-friendly mention. The RoboVac 15C MAX has wifi and Alexa voice connectivity, which makes it easy breezy to set up and use. Reviewers love how it delivers an impressive clean with strong suction and self-charges after a clean.

Table Tiles

Areaware amazon.com

$20.98

There’s no such thing as too many coasters, though there is such thing as really tacky coasters. Trust me, I went through over 200 before finding this cool geometric set. These have a cork-lined base which further helps to protect furniture.

Sherpa and Fleece Throw Blanket

Green Orange amazon.com

$20.99

Sherpa on one side and plush on the other, this reviewer-loved throw blanket measures 50×60 inches, which means it’s large enough for two to comfortably snuggle during Netflix nights.

EDITOR’S FAVORITE

Men’s Sherpa-Lined Puffer Jacket

Amazon Essentials amazon.com

$50.10

Editor’s note: I got my dad this jacket for his birthday a few weeks ago because I figured it looked warm and practical. Turns out, this $42 coat is the softest-feeling men’s jacket anyone in my family has ever come across. Besides looking way more expensive than its price tag, this coat is warm and has a sherpa-lined hood which feels cloud-like. (Amazon, if you’re reading this, please make this coat in women’s.)

Men’s Figaro Chain Necklace

Miansai amazon.com

$125.00

In case you’re still thinking about how hot Connell’s chain was in Normal People. Same.

Men’s Memory Foam Slippers

These comfy slippers are machine washable, which means if he’s prone to having sweaty feet… you can gift these without any worry you might later regret it.

Polo Ralph Lauren Outdoor Bear Scarf

Polo Ralph Lauren amazon.com

For a guy in your life who’s a nightmare to shop for, look no further than this ribbed knit scarf featuring Ralph Lauren’s iconic, well-dressed bear.

Essential Crewneck Sweater

State Cashmere amazon.com

$140.00

Editor-loved brand State Cashmere makes 100% pure hypoallergenic cashmere for a fraction of what I see a lot of other brands charging. Here, a failsafe crewneck he’ll have for years to come.

Starter Shaving Kit for Men

Intro him to his new favorite grooming brand with a set that includes everything from a shave brush to priming oil to a safety razor and more. This shaving kit boasts over 400 reviews, with several mentioning how Bevel’s products help prevent razor bumps.

Hidden Comfort No-Show Socks

Runners swear by the support and durability of Balega socks. Take it from the 7k reviews this no-show unisex pair has, these will be a hit.

Grand Court Sneaker

If you’re shopping for a boyfriend who’s an amazing person but just not the best dresser, start with his shoes. Prince Harry has been photographed in a similar pair (Sdidas’s Gazelle trainer) in a similar grey, suede color on countless occasions. This color looks sharp with everything.

DiamondClean Classic Rechargeable Electric Toothbrush

Philips Sonicare amazon.com

$199.99

$166.95 (17% off)

Rumored users of the prestigious DiamondClean toothbrush include Beyoncé and Kim K. Per Philips, this luxe toothbrush removes up to 7x more plaque than a manual toothbrush, whitens teeth after 1 week of use, and improves gum health in only 2 weeks.

Pet Cardboard Turntable & DJ Mixer

Suck UK amazon.com

$35.00

For the cat person who loves a good RAC remix. To quote an epic review on Amazon: “By 9pm, DJ Kitty was in beast mode as the rave kicked off in the living room. As the sun came up, DJ Kitty refused to part with the deck… Yes, a bit expensive for [sic]carboard, but we are considering selling tickets to the next show to make up the difference.”

OPRAH’S FAVORITE THINGS 2020

Footnanny Hemp Extract Spa Treatment Set

Footnanny amazon.com

$69.99

Footnanny has been on Oprah’s Favorite Things list for seven years and counting, though the foot-care brand is loved by many, many more. Here, a trio that will help with exfoliating, soothing and relieving targeted areas of the body that often get neglected.

Foam Roller

Trigger Point Performance amazon.com

To give you a sense of how beloved TriggerPoint’s GRID foam roller is, it has 11.4k global ratings and an average score of 4.7 stars. It comes with free online videos so users can learn the best ways to utilize it for stretching and relieving tension.

Fully Adjustable Desk Folding Exercise Bike

Exerpeutic amazon.com

$299.99

$255.86 (15% off)

If they’re a fitness lover who’s working from home right now, this foldable stationary bike desk will make staying active during the day an easier pursuit. Reviewers agree it’s easy to assemble and sturdy, with one reviewer even saying this has changed their life.

Essential Oil and Aromatherapy Diffuser

Victsing amazon.com

$25.59

Shopping for a dedicated yogi or someone who could use a little serenity right now? Meet VicTsing’s popular essential oil diffuser that boasts 11.3k ratings and counting. The diffuser offers 2 modes, 4 different timers and 7 different color lights, which makes for a personalized zen experience.

Jenga

Jenga is fun whether you’re 6-years-old or 42.

Posh Peanut Pajamas Set (Newborn to Toddler Sizes)

Posh Peanut amazon.com

$30.00

Made from soft viscose bamboo, these pajamas will be super soft for any baby, toddler or eager young mind on your shopping list. A variety of prints are available in sizes spanning 0-3 months to 6 years.

Grippy Non-Slip Socks for Kids

Resilience Gives amazon.com

$10.00

The story behind this cheerful sock brand will move you (and the recipient). Resilience Gives was founded by Jake Teitebaum, a Hodgkin’s lymphoma survivor who was frustrated with poorly-made socks during his stem cell transplant, and is co-owned by Andee Wallace, whose father survived non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. For each pair of socks purchased, the brand donates a pair to a child with cancer who’s undergoing treatment in a hospital. (Women’s and men’s sizes are also available in case you also want to get yourself a pair.)

Justine Carreon Justine Carreon is the market editor at ELLE.com covering fashion, Dutch ovens, and fashion again.

Jaimie Potters Commerce Content Manager Jaimie Potters is the Commerce Content Manager at Hearst Magazines Digital Media, where she covers fashion, beauty, tech and more.

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77 Valentine's Day Gifts You Can Get on Amazon Prime

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