#WHY DO YOU KEEP TELEPORTING ONTO THE SIDE OF THE ROAD

[helpimstuckposting]

Ep 1: nahhhh it caaaant be the same Celia, that’s wishful thinking

Ep 17 Chester: hey Celia does this story about a guy showing up in a parallel universe and then killing his doppelgänger sound familiar to you? Lol

[gay-dorito-dust]

Uhhhh… may i request like.. Its like ordinary day The Stan’s and twins doing their thing at mystery shack until a portal opens infront of them and threw reader out as it close, how their reactions be like? (Reader is stranger btw/havent know them all too)

The pines family were all gathered in the living room, Stanley was sat in his recliner with Mabel nearby making arts and crafts with waddles, while Ford and Dipper were mulling over ideas for what they could do for their next campaign of Dungeons, Dungeons and more Dungeons.

Weirdmagedon had them all carving some form of normality and so anomaly hunting- as cool as it was- was put on hold while they spent time as a family and help Mabel complete her scrapbook of family memories that she had just started. It was slowly coming together with pictures of family fishing trips, camping trips with s’mores and even road trips with Candy, Grenda, Soos and Wendy tagging along.

However Mabel said that every scrapbook should be filled to the brim with memories and mementos, just so that everyone back home would be so jealous of the amounts of fun they had during their stay at Gravity Falls and might come to see what they hype is all about themselves; something that Stanley heavily agreed on for the sole purpose of making money off of the gullible masses.

Everything was nice and quiet for the pines family but everything changed the moment a portal opened in the middle of their living room, causing the lights to flicker and the television to static as it widened.

‘What’s happening?!’ Mable cried.

‘I thought we got rid of bill!’ Dipper exclaimed as he rushed over to his sisters side, keeping her as face away from the portal as he could while Stan and Ford stood protectively in front of them both, just as equally as confused as their grandniece and nephew as to why there was a portal in the middle of their living room.

‘I thought you said there wasn’t any possible way for anything to get into this dimension pointdexter!’ Stanley shouted over the shoulder of whooshing and humming from the portal as it had gotten big enough for a human to pass through, maybe two if they were feeling cheeky. ‘There isn’t! So I don’t know how this is even remotely possible!’ Stanford replied as just then you were thrown out of the portal and onto your ass before the Pines family as the portal closed.

‘I thought I had gotten better at that.’ You groaned as you picked yourself up from the floor before noticing the hostile family in the corner of the room and immediately straighten up. ‘Hi! I’m so sorry for scaring you all like that but, would you mind telling me what dimension I’m in exactly?’ You asked as you sheepishly rubbed the back of your head. You had been travelling across the multiverse from a very young age ever since your mad scientist parents attempted to prove the multiverse theory, unfortunately it resulted in their experiment going horribly wrong and you being sucked into the portal at a very young age and then dying due to the portals instability.

You also soon discovered that you had somehow absorbed the portals energy and had developed a mutation on the process, you could teleport from dimension to dimension in quick purple blips. This was something you had still yet to maintain control over but you were solely getting the basics down…at least you thought you were until you accidentally learned a new ability and opened a portal into some poor family’s living room.

‘Dimension?’ Ford murmured, skeptical of your reason for being here, even if it was accidentally. ‘You’re in Gravity Falls, how did you even summon that portal just now.’ He inquired his scientific brain going haywire as he didn’t see any weapon on you that could open up a portal, and even if you did he would be felt cheated if it was that simple then maybe he would’ve escaped the multiverse earlier. You shrugged ‘I have powers from a freak accident.’ You told him as though it was universally accepted for someone to being a mutant.

‘Powers? Yeah right-‘ Stan scoffed, not believing you for a single second until you closed your eyes and clenched your fist, you disappeared in a blink and reappeared before him in another blink of purple. ‘Hot Belgian waffles!’ Stanley cried as he was almost sent sprawling back into his recliner when your face was close to his own. Dipper and Mable saw this happen and were fascinated by the fact that someone actually had powers, almost like a superhero, while Ford was wondering how your dna must’ve been altered in due to this freak accident.

‘You can teleport!’ Mabel shouted.

‘I can teleport and apparently open portals into the multiverse and beyond it.’ You replied, still feeling a little awkward about appearing in their living room, ‘which is how I got here actually but I hope to one day get it under control so I don’t pull a…well this.’ You add but Mabel and Dipper were lost in just how cool your powers were as they began to bombard you with questions.

‘How far can you teleport?’ Dipper asked.

‘Like down a town street and back at worst but across dimensions at best? It’s still all very new to me kid, so maybe I can’t actually say how far I can teleport if I’m moving from one place to another like a ping pong ball.’ You said as you saw him write something down in a journal with a blue pine tree on the cover, muttering to himself.

‘Is there a dimension with puppies and unicorns and all other cute things!’ Mable was next to ask and you couldn’t help but laugh at her overwhelming excitement. ‘There’s multiple dimensions where they are the dominate species, it’s very…bright but there are some brightly coloured beach boys there too…for some reason or other.’ Mabel squeals about some dudes named Xyler and Craz? You shrugged it off as a teenage girl thing.

Ford, who had been watching you carefully the entire time, could tell that you were drained from using up most of your power to get here and put a hand on either of the twin’s shoulders in order to get their attention. ‘I think that’s enough questions for today children, they’ve spent themselves and I’m sure they’ll be more than ready to answer more questions tomorrow.’ The twins pouted but you gave Ford a thankful smile. You knew neither he nor Stan were fully accepting of you being here, not without an ulterior motive of course, and you didn’t blame them for thinking as such as you wouldn’t exactly trust yourself either with your unstable powers and all: and besides you didn’t want to put two innocent children in harms way because you couldn’t control where you teleported.

‘Aww.’ They groaned in union which made you smile as you watched Ford and Stanley usher the twins upstairs, wishing you could relive your childhood again, but knew you couldn’t due to the horrors you’ve witnessed in the multiverse at their age. It was such a shame because you knew you definitely stuck out in this dimension like a sore thumb as you weren’t sure you’d fit in like you once did a long time ago. Another thing you’ve noticed about this particular family is that they loved each other dearly and would always come to each other’s aid no matter what, even if they were annoyed at each other, which was what family should be about. Something that made you wish you could’ve had something similar instead of two mad unknown scientists for parents, who tried making a ripple in a large ocean and got a colossal and destructive wave instead for their greed and envy of not being recognised for their work.

Beggars can’t be choosers or so the saying goes…

Feeling that you had overstayed your welcome, you quickly write a note of apology and teleported out of the mystery shack just as Stan and Ford had came back into the living room in search of you. Ford noticed the note almost immediate and read it aloud for Stanley to hear.

‘Sorry for the scare, won’t bother you anymore as I don’t trust myself with my powers quite yet and don’t want any of you getting caught in the crossfire. You look like a well put together family.

-y/n, the person who opened a portal in your living room.’ Ford finished before putting the note back down on the table. He didn’t know much about you and was still a little skeptical, but he could relate to being stuck in the multiverse for so long that he felt a little odd in his own home at times, and the fact that you looked the way that you did told him all he needed to know. Whereas Stanley didn’t know what to make of you, you had powers and could open portals, someone whom he could exploit for money but knew he couldn’t as the sad kicked puppy look you had on your face only made him feel bad for thinking about it.

‘That kids alone Ford.’ Stanley told his brother.

‘I know and for so long too.’ Ford replied but neither bother knew how to handle this situation as much as they felt the need to help you, but after everything with Bill they weren’t exactly trusting of people who just randomly come out of portals in the middle of their living room; that and the fact that neither of them knew where to being with your powers situation either as neither of them had powers themselves.

As much as they might regret it later on, they could only wait for you to randomly pop into their living room once again to confront you about your origins, and make a plan of action based off of what they hear. They weren’t going to take risks but they knew someone in need when they see one and you were very much someone in desperate need of help.

[syn4k]

an impassioned debate about the validity of sand as a spice

It was a cloudy Saturday night, and a well-worn but well-kept car pulled out of the parking lot of a bar. Switching its headlights on, it turned east, headed down the dark and empty stretch of road that it inhabited to brighter and gentler habitation somewhere beyond.

In the car sat four people. Three were various levels of drunk. The fourth was driving silently.

"Man, those burritos tasted like sand," sighed Jimmy, jammed into a corner in the backseat with his head tilted towards the ceiling of the car. "Crunched like sand too."

"The burritos were great," said Fwhip, sitting next to him. "Your taste buds are just malformed."

"That's it," said Jimmy, sitting bolt upright with sudden fervor. He held out one slightly sweaty palm. "Give me that twenty dollars back. I'm revoking the fact that I paid for your drinks."

"No way in hell I'm letting your sweaty mitts get onto my precious tender," said Fwhip, leaning away from him. "Calm down, dude."

"Do you want to go?" demanded Jimmy. "Do you want to fight? Because I can fight you."

"Dude, you know the rules. If anyone starts a fight in here, they get kicked out of the car."

"Then I'll fight'em too!"

"Don't. Your drunk ass would not make it out of there alive."

Joel, riding shotgun, sat up a little straighter and rubbed his eyes blearily. "If you can eat sand," he mumbled, "then does that make it count as a spice?"

"What?" asked Jimmy incredulously, all thoughts of violence pushed out of his mind by the question. "Dude. You can't eat sand."

"Yes, you can," said Joel. "That makes it edible."

"I've eaten sand before," added Fwhip helpfully. "And I'd do it again for a bet. It has a nice crunch to it. Also, Joel's right. Everything's edible technically because if it fits into your mouth and you swallow it then you ate it."

"What if you die, though?" said Jimmy.

"That's just a casualty."

"Sand is edible and you can sprinkle it onto things, which makes it a spice, right?" asked Joel. He cleared his throat and rubbed his eyes again with a groan. "Holy god. I am so going to regret this tomorrow."

"You're going to regret this right now if you keep talking," said Jimmy. "Sand isn't meant to be eaten, so it's not a spice."

"Sand is basically tiny rocks," said Joel, turning around to look him in the eye. "So is salt."

"Your point is?" asked Jimmy, arms defensively crossed.

"You assume that sand isn't meant to be eaten," said Joel. He pointed at him. "But if I pick it up with the intent to put it into my mouth and then eat it, that makes that argument completely null, innit?"

"You always get so philosophical when you're drunk," said Jimmy with an eye-roll. "Go back to sleep, Joel. Sand isn't a spice."

"It could be used as one, though, for sure," said Fwhip with a shrug. "Like, I have no idea why you'd want sand as a seasoning for your steak or whatever, but it can definitely be done. Wait, hold on. I kind of want to try that now."

"Fwhip, you'll die," said Jimmy, deadpan.

"Will not," said Fwhip. "I've eaten this stuff before, remember? I'll be fine. Wait, hold that thought, we're like hours away from the nearest ocean. Nevermind. Where's the closest lake?"

"Fuck if I know," muttered Joel from the front. Jimmy shrugged assent.

"Wait," said Jimmy, sitting up again after a brief period of silence. "Joel, you're not driving right? Please tell me you're not driving."

"Nope," said Fwhip. "You're visiting the States, remember? The steering wheel's on the other side here. You're fine, buddy."

"Jim got so drunk that he teleported to another country," said Joel with a snort. "No, I'm not driving. We'd all be dead right now if I was driving."

"But wait, hold on," said Jimmy, a note of panic entering his voice, "if I'm not driving and Fwhip's not driving and Joel's not driving, then who's driving the car??"

"Pixl is," said Fwhip patiently. "He agreed to just drink water tonight so that we didn't have to pull an Uber. We figured it out beforehand and everything."

"Okay," said Jimmy. "I forgot. Sorry Pixl."

"You're fine," said Pix from the driver's seat.

"Wait, hold on. Pix, you know stuff about like, earth and rocks and shit, right?" asked Joel.

"You could say that, yes," said Pix, still not taking his eyes off of the road.

"You are the one sober person in this car right now. Oh my gods, I should have just asked you this but whatever. Is sand a spice?"

"Spices are made from plants, if I remember correctly," said Pix, looking behind him briefly. "Sand is rocks. So no, whether you intend to eat it or not, sand is not in fact a spice."

"Here's the real question," said Fwhip. "Sand's not a spice, we've established that. However, technically, it could be a seasoning if you do it right." He said it like a statement, but it was really a question.

Pix just shrugged. "I'm an archaeology major, not a culinary arts major. Not my area of expertise. No idea about that one, chief, you'll have to decide for yourself."

"Okay, then," started Fwhip with a shit-eating grin.

"Please, let's not," begged Jimmy. "Please. Just don't."

"If you don't like the discussion, just stay out of it," said Fwhip with a shrug. "Anyways, Joel-"

"Nope, you keep me out of this one," said Joel with a yawn. "I'm going back to sleep. Someone shake me when we get back to the hotel."

"Pix?" asked Fwhip, slightly desperate. Pixl did not respond. "Okay, then. Guess I'm just going to be having these really cool and philosophical thoughts all by myself, then."

"Then perish," mumbled Joel from the front seat.

The car was quiet the rest of the way back.

[aquadestinyswriting]

The Failing of the Seal: Part 4

Summary: Selene is getting ready to leave Toreguarde, but an incident just had to happen while she was packing

Words: 2,334

Warnings: a single mention of persons being potentially suicidal

tags: @druidx, @strosmkai-rum, @homesteadchronicles, @warriorbookworm

Keep reading

It had not taken long for the Council to approve Selene’s request for a leave of absence from the city following the meeting with the Emissary. Whatever the man had said to Schreiber appeared to have greatly chastened the nobleman, who made absolutely no objections and left the council chambers very swiftly after the session was concluded. 

For her part, Selene did feel a very, very small pang of sympathy for him. Vampires could be incredibly dangerous if they were sufficiently pissed off, no matter how ‘domesticated’ they appeared to be. The sympathy didn’t last long. As soon as the session was done, the Grand Magus had teleported to her room and threw herself into packing. Chrackle watched his mistress throw several sets of clothes into a bag of holding,

~Do you really need that many sets of robes?~ he asked, ~We’re only going to Yastromo’s Tower, not the other side of Khull.~ Selene blew a strand of hair that had fallen into her face out of the way,

~Need I remind you that we can’t teleport directly there?~ Chrackle grumbled, scratching at his head with a talon,

~So why not teleport to just outside? The whole area is littered with wards and enchantments to prevent it from being detected.~ he asked petulantly. Selene glanced up at the magpie,

~Those won’t matter if someone gets the bright idea to sneak in here and figure out where my spell took me. The tower isn’t exactly invisible once you’re standing in front of it.~ 

~Who’s going to go to the trouble of infiltrating this place? They’d need to be idiots or totally suicidal.~

~You cannot seriously tell me that the Cabal won’t try it. They’ve already tried to assassinate me at least twice in the last twelve months alone.~

~And you don’t think they won’t try while you’re travelling?~

~Of course they’re going to try while we’re on the road, bird brain! Why do you think I have a second bag of holding just for spell components? To set up a tea party?!~ Chrackle was about to make a very witty and sarcastic retort when he noticed something move at the window in the main office. Selene was immediately on alert the moment her familiar stopped yelling in her head,

“What’s the matter Chrackle?” she asked aloud. The magpie simply croaked, fluttering cautiously to the hatstand next to the door and peering around the corner, eyes lighting up as he looked intently at the window. Selene slowly grabbed her old yew staff and stood, waiting for her familiar’s signal. As long ago as the Demon War had been, she had never forgotten the lessons she had learned. Most of them, the hard way.

~Wait for a signal. Don’t rush headlong into danger. Don’t be afraid to use the most potent spells at your disposal immediately. Incapacitating the enemy is fine, but be ready to kill without hesitation. Run if you can’t handle it; heroic self sacrifice makes for an excellent tale, but won’t stop the enemy unless you take them all with you. Be pragmatic; you can’t save everyone, especially if you’re too dead to do so.~ It almost disturbed her how easily the list came to mind, but running through it helped to keep her calm as she waited.

~Alright, you win. We got a Mage Hand, trying the window out there.~ Chrackle’s voice stated, ~I can keep an eye on it while you locate the caster?~

~Which window?~ Selene asked. Chrackle rolled his eyes and allowed his mistress to see through them. Selene smiled as she saw the mage hand approach the bottom right section of the largest window in her office, ~Nice try, but that’s getting snapped in half and dispelled in three… two…~ There was a loud ‘crack!’ as the fingers of the mage hand touched the window frame. A mousetrap like device snapped onto the magical effect, glowing as the metal bar sliced through the immaterial fingers. The mage hand vanished, the magic making it up coming undone. Selene came back to her own senses and nodded to the window in her bedroom,

“Right, now we’ve established that there’s been a leak somewhere, you go find the caster of that Mage Hand and harangue them for a bit. If you can’t safely harangue, follow.” Chrackle nodded and flew past the wizard and out of the window behind her. Selene grimaced, casting a protective spell on herself even as she swept out into her office, staff gripped tightly in one hand. 

“Don’t think we didn’t know you were planning on scurrying off to your little hidey-hole, librarian.” A disembodied voice greeted, “Did we truly scare the supposed greatest wizard of the age that badly?” Selene snorted,

“I’m not the one using an invisible Sending to threaten people trying to get on with taking a holiday.” she retorted, “Nice try with the Mage Hand, but you’re going to have to do better than that.”

“For all your supposed brilliance, you are a bit dense, aren’t you?” the voice practically sang. Selene’s eyes widened. She swore under her breath as she tried to link to her familiar,

~Chrackle! If you’re in range, get to the bottom of the tower!~ silence met her, causing the woman to swear some more as the tower under her feet shook.

“Well, I’d best be off. Got my own things to do, after all. Oh, and don’t worry about your little traitor friend. I’m sure the demons will deal with him too quickly for him to feel much pain.” Selene glowered around the room,

“You won’t get away with this!” she snapped. The voice chuckled,

“Oh my dear, little librarian. We already did. The Hellmouth exists. We just need to make the opening bigger.” Selene stumbled over to her desk, the floor jolting violently,

“When I find you, I am going to make you wish I would just kill you!” she hissed.

“Promises, promises.” the voice sneered, fading away, “Don’t make any you aren’t capable of keeping.” Selene sorely wished the Sending had at least had a projection of a shadowy figure she could hurl a fireball at. She was shaking out of her seething thoughts by another jolt under her feet, which sent her flying into the corner of the desk. The wizard hissed in pain as the solid wood smacked into her ribs,

~Oh, that’s gonna bruise.~ she thought to herself. Pulling herself to her feet, Selene grabbed the pot of copper wire she kept near her seat and pulled it towards her, immediately broadcasting a general Message throughout the tower,

“All students and staff of the fifth power and lower are to immediately evacuate the tower. Those proficient with Warding and protection spells are to assist those incapable. This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill.” Magical alarms began blaring throughout the tower moments after Selene discarded the copper dust onto the floor. She tried to pull herself upright, only to feel blinding pain in her right side,

“Alright, so broken, not bruised.” she muttered. She tried to stand once more, only for all the ringing in her ears to get louder. Grunting, Selene kept trying to push herself up, but the pain eventually became too much and she fell to the floor, unconsciousness claiming her before she hit it.

~*~

“...oody lucky it wasn’t anythin’ bigger.”

“I’ll say. You sure that the patch-up will hold?”

“Aye. Galana willin’, it shouldn’t have to fer long.” 

Selene groaned as she finally came to. Her mouth was full of cotton and her ears were still ringing. At least the floor seemed to have stopped moving and was a lot more comfortable than she remembered. The wizard flexed her fingers, feeling soft cotton beneath them. Oh. She squinted her eyes open, trying to blink away the bleariness. The fuzzy shape of a face with a lot of dark brown around it appeared before her,

“Ah, ye’re awake, good.” Egrim’s voice stated happily. Selene huffed irritably,

“Lemme guess. I missed out on all the fun?” she asked as she pulled herself up to a sitting position, noting happily that it didn’t hurt to move any more. 

“If you call having to spend half an hour Banishing a small horde of Dretches from the basement of the tower fun.” Thaddeus’ voice groused from near what might be a door.

“Don’t mind Thaddeus, Grand Magus, he’s just annoyed that he had to miss out on getting lunch first.” Dwena chirped, “You’ll probably want these.” Selene felt something being pressed into her hands and smiled at the gnome standing next to her. Selene quickly placed her glasses onto her nose, blinking as the world finally came back into focus,

“Thank you Dwena.” she said, now realising that she was back in her own bedroom, “So who wants to catch me up on what happened during my impromptu nap on the floor?” she asked. Dwena huffed a sigh, hopping onto the end of the bed,

“We got everyone evacuated and the locals told to stay indoors. Thaddeus and about half the faculty went down to the Seal to deal with the breach while I got a bunch of people together to try and find out if anyone got in to cause it.” Selene frowned,

“I take it you didn’t find anyone?” she asked on seeing the look on the gnome’s face. Dwena shook her head,

“There was no evidence of any tampering with the seal, but Adrian insists that he wasn’t overcome by the Dretches, but by an intruder. He’s not saying who though.” Selene glared into empty space,

“I think I have an idea.” she said, “I had someone try to use a Mage Hand to get into my office before everything kicked off. Turned out that was a distraction to get me to send Chrackle away so the person in charge could use an invisible Sending to gloat.” 

“Well they did a right poor job if their master plan was to get the Seal open early.” Egrim stated, “All it took to stabilise the thing was a Consecration.” Selene shook her head,

“If the seal wasn’t tampered with, then they were sending a message.” she said, “They know the seal is failing and are just waiting in the wings for when it finally gives way. As for the attack on Adrian, that was personal.” Dwena frowned and fidgeted with the talisman she wore around her neck,

“Do you think we should get him out of the city?” she asked, “The Cabal knows he’s working with us, staying is probably getting too risky.” Selene shook her head,

“No.” she stated simply, “As much as Thazaar will probably complain about my decision, Adrian is much safer where there are more people to keep an eye on him.” 

“To make sure he’s not the one feeding them info, right?” Selene sent the skinny man at the door a deadpan look,

“He’s not working with the Cabal, Thaddeus.” she sighed, “Though he very well might decide to start if you lot keep launching accusations at him.” Thaddeus held up his hands,

“I’m not the one throwing the accusations at him.” he stated. Selene inhaled sharply through her nose and closed her eyes, calming her flaring temper. Once she was certain that she wasn’t going to snap at anyone, she opened her eyes again and looked between Dwena and Thaddeus,

“I know everyone other than me has suspicions about Adrian. I am not going to order the two of you to make sure he’s kept safe, but I am asking.” she said, “The last thing I want to happen is for him to be run into the arms of the Cabal while I’m gone. Schreiber is already unhappy enough with me and the way I run my tower as is.” Egrim chuckled, stuffing tobacco into his pipe,

“At least ye’ll no’ have to deal with him fer a bit.” he pointed out, “If ye’re feeling alright, I’ll get back to my church so ye can get on with getting yerself outta here.” Selene smiled at he old friend,

“I feel a lot better, thank you Egrim. The dwarf’s right, though, I’d better make myself scarce before Thazaar comes in and begs me to spare him from Schreiber’s wrath.” 

~Then you better hurry up. Thazaar’s on his way back and got our good friend with him.~ Chrackle’s voice stated just as the bird landed on the sill outside the window. Thaddeus groaned and slumped out of the door, while Dwena rolled her eyes and handed Selene her bags,

“Well, go on then.” she sighed, “We’ve got things handled.” Selene beamed at the gnomish woman, took her bags and waved to Egrim,

“See you lot when I get back. Try not to die in the meantime.” she called, grabbing her old yew staff from the foot of her bed and immediately Teleporting just outside the city. Selene waited by the canal, watching the wildlife and ordinary people going about their day while Chrackle caught up with her. It didn’t take long for the magpie to appear, a worn travel cloak clutched in his beak,

~You forgot this.~ he said, dropping the item onto his mistress’ head. Selene laughed as she pulled the woollen item around her shoulders,

“Thanks Chrackle. There’s always something. Now then, let’s get onto the next town before it gets dark. I’m hearing a good couple of pints of ale calling.” Chrackle cackled as he landed on his mistress’ shoulder, eyes glinting at the memory of the last time they’d done this,

~So long as you save me some!~

The sight of a slim woman in an old, woollen travel cloak, a yew staff in her hand, and a magpie on her shoulder seemed distantly familiar to some of the older folks on the canal. Most didn’t pay them much mind, but to those who remembered, it brought a melancholy smile to their faces as they silently toasted the traveller and the memory of the companions by her side.

[fanficshiddles]

Tear You To Pieces, Chapter 9

Kelly shut the curtains as soon as she got into the rather shabby B&B room. But it was the best she could afford in the meantime, she had no idea how long she was going to have to be on the run for, so didn’t want to blow all of her money too quickly.

She’d managed to budget herself to last on the run for around a year. She had to include hair dye into the monthly budget. As even though it had been two months, she had no idea if Loki was still looking for her or not, so she only went out in disguise to be on the safe side.

She was still not over what happened, what was still happening. And she knew it was all her fault, she would never be able to get over it. She had unleashed the monster, literally.

Not bothering to turn the TV on, she just got into bed and tried not to think about it all. The news was always filled with Loki now, and how he was conquering the world. Country after country was flocking to kneel under Loki’s rule. Otherwise, he was slaying every country that dared to defy him. Which soon brought them to heel, before they lost everyone.

Kelly was really jumpy, every noise right outside her room had her entire body going ridged, expecting the worst. It took her heart a while to stop racing after each noise. She knew she couldn’t carry on living like this, but she didn’t know what else to do.

Turning onto her side she curled up and cried herself to sleep, like she did every night. But her sleep was never peaceful, it was always laced with nightmares. Always of him. Most of the time, he was looming over her with her sisters’ body at his feet.

She woke up in a sweat, calling out for her sister. How she wished everything was just a nightmare, but no. She was living a nightmare.

Keeping on the move was her plan, so since she was awake anyway, even though it was only five in the morning, she decided to move on to the next place to stay. She had made it all the way up to Edinburgh by foot mainly but also a couple of bus trips. She just kept moving around from city to city, town to town. Wherever she could get to.

As Kelly made her way down the road, there was just a few people going about at that time of the morning. But she kept getting shivers down her spine, and not from the cold. It was like someone was watching her…

When she looked round over her shoulder, she caught a glimpse of a tall, black-haired man amongst a small crowd of early risers heading to work. Her heart started racing in fear, thinking it was Loki, she quickly moved on and walked as fast as she could. When she glanced back in the direction of the man, there was no sign of him anymore.

She tried to shake it off, thinking it had just been her imagination. Surely if it had been Loki, he would’ve made his presence more known.

But as she made her way further into the centre of the city, she still had a really bad feeling that she was being followed. So she rushed into the bus station and bought a ticket to head further North, maybe if she headed out of the cities and tried the quieter villages, she might be able to stay under the radar better.

Just before she was able to pay for her ticket, there was sudden screaming and panic within the station.

‘What the…’ She looked around in confusion, but then she felt pure dread run through her veins as she saw the reason for the panic and chaos.

Loki.

He had stormed into the station in his regal armour, the biggest grin formed on his face when he locked eyes on Kelly.

‘No…’ She gasped out quietly, her legs suddenly turned to jelly as she tried to run with the others that were panicking.

Loki made his way towards Kelly straight away, with large purposeful strides as he towered above everyone else that was scarpering around him in terror.

She started running for the back exit, but Loki reached out towards her and Kelly suddenly felt as if there was a collar around her neck that was suddenly pulling her backwards towards him. She brought her hands up to her neck but couldn’t feel anything there, but there was definitely something pulling her back.

She panicked and screamed as she was dragged back towards Loki, who had stopped and was just pulling her towards him. When she was within grabbing distance, the invisible collar disappeared and she felt like she could run again.

But she was within striking distance. And Loki struck like a snake, grabbing her he forced her to the nearest wall and pinned her against it, his large dominant hand wrapped around her neck firmly. Her lower lip was trembling in fear as he sneered down at her, she tried clawing at his arm but it was futile.

‘Mmmm, I finally found you.’ Loki hummed low and squeezed her neck a bit harder in warning when she continued trying to struggle.

‘Plea… please… Let me go.’ She stuttered out between trying to take big breaths, his hand controlling her breathing wasn’t making it easy to talk.

‘Oh no, my little pet. You should be begging for my forgiveness, for that little stunt of running away from me. You have no idea how much of an inconvenience it was when I came to collect you, to find you gone. Ungrateful mortal.’ He growled, squeezing her neck again for a few seconds, making her splutter.

He could see the pure fear in her eyes.

‘However.’ He purred, easing up a little on his grip he rubbed his thumb up and down the side of her neck. ‘I wouldn’t be in the position I am now if it hadn’t been for you. And whilst I should punish you for being a naughty girl and disobeying me, I will give you the benefit of the doubt. This time. Because I know you’re my good girl really, aren’t you?’

Kelly closed her eyes and tried to tune him out. But of course, that could never happen.

‘Look at me!’ He demanded and squeezed her neck again, making her eyes fly open.

‘Maybe once I get you home, you’ll be more talkative. And I shall give you your reward, and finally claim what you owe me.’ His eyes darkened and he smirked, then leaned in and kissed her on the lips, despite her trying to move her head away to no avail.

She had no choice but to endure his lips moving against hers, he was surprisingly gentle, yet there was an urgency within him too. A very deep part of her was longing at his kiss, like it was a reminder of what she thought they once had… But she remembered that had all been fake, Loki had used her.

Loki pulled back slightly, licking his lips. ‘Now come, pet. Let me show you your new home.’ He grinned wickedly and released her neck.

But before she could even think about trying to run, a collar formed around her neck. Only this time it wasn’t invisible, she could feel it too with her hands as she tried pulling it off. There was a chain leash attached to it that Loki held, so she was going nowhere.

‘Come on.’ Loki growled and tugged her along as he headed out the main entrance.

When they stepped outside, some civilians that saw Loki started kneeling for him instantly. Some ran away. But Loki didn’t care about any of them, he had what he wanted.

Kelly couldn’t stop shaking and crying as Loki slipped his arm around her waist and held her in close, then teleported them both to the airport where Loki had a jet waiting for them. He hauled Kelly onto it, she wasn’t sure why she was even trying to still get away, she knew there was no chance.

Loki had the leash vanish, but the collar remained. As soon as it was off, she ran as far back in the jet as possible and cowered down in the corner. Loki chuckled and took a seat near the front, looking very pleased with himself.

‘There is a much comfier seat down here for you, pet. It might be a bumpy ride.’ Loki called back to her as the jet started off down the runway.

But Kelly was quite happy where she was, as far away from Loki as she possibly could be between some seats. Though she knew it wouldn’t be for long, the jet was already taking off into the sky. She didn’t know exactly where home was for Loki. She really didn’t want to know.

‘You know, it has been ok since I’ve been ruling your world. Not quite as fun and exciting as I had originally hoped, but I realised it’s been because I’ve been chasing you. Now that I’ve found you, the real fun can begin.’ Loki said casually as he opened a bag of salted nuts.

Kelly shivered at his tone and words, she didn’t want to know what he meant by that.

It only took half an hour to get to their destination. But it had felt more like ten hours for Kelly, with Loki trying to make small talk the whole way there, as if nothing was wrong. As if she was there of her own accord.

‘Isn’t this a delightful sight.’ Loki chuckled, looking out of the window.

Kelly was curious as to where she was. So she slowly moved onto her knees and leaned up on one of the seats to look out the window. Her eyes widened at what she saw.

They were coming to land in New York, but it wasn’t the New York she remembered.

For starters, where The Statue Of Liberty should be, was replaced with a ten times larger statue of Loki himself. Then as they headed into the city, where the Avengers tower used to be, a new tower was built. But it was much larger too, and on the side of it was Loki’s name in bright gold letters.

‘No… No.’ She sobbed and put her hand over her mouth in horror.

[littlemisspascal]

Death and an Angel part 4

Death!Din and Cupid F!Reader

Summary: When you and Din arrive at the village in Sorgan, you both learn that the universe is full of surprises.

Rating: G

Word Count: 3,300

Warnings: Fluffy fluff, angsty angst, pining (so...much...pining...)

Author Note: All the love and thanks to everyone who reads, likes, reblogs, and comments on this series! Seriously, the support is beyond words. I wanted to go ahead and spoil it now that Winta does not make an appearance. I love that little girl in the episode, but I just couldn’t get her to fit in this segment. Maybe she’ll appear later on in the future, I honestly don’t know how my brain works. 

Also, fun fact, this will be my 100th post 😱🥳

Links to Part 1 and Part 3 and Part 5

Photo Inspiration: (I love black and white photos if you can’t tell by now...)

Sorgan is a beautiful planet, covered in massive forests and several freshwater lakes filled with krill. There is a tiny, farming village that isolates itself in the midst of Sorgan’s swampy region which is where you hope to find Omera. Rumor has it she’d fallen in love with the community five years ago and bound her nurturing powers to the planet, shielding them against the harshness of famine and plague. Her powers also prohibited other immortals from teleporting directly into the village, even if they meant no harm, thus forcing you and Din to walk the five-mile-long road from the common house to the village boundary line.

Mud sticks to the bottom of your shoes and the humidity is absolutely murdering your hair, but you love the addictive burn of fresh air filling your lungs, the symphonic sounds of the wilderness encompassing you. Here on Sorgan, the positive attributes far outweigh the negative ones.

Din walks beside you, close enough your arm occasionally brushes against his  vambrace, and you find yourself glancing at him out of your peripheral every few steps, dazzled by how the sunlight reflects off his armor. He catches your eye more than once, inclining his head to stare back while puffing out his chest, preening like the kriffing asshole he is. Each time you swiftly turn away with a burning face, hating how his smugness changes to amusement at your inability to hold his gaze, even with the impeding visor.

You string together creative expletives in your mind, each one meant to strengthen your resolve to ignore him. Except, like clockwork, your eyes helplessly drift back over again mere minutes later, dooming you to a continuous cycle of torment and embarrassment.

At least up until you’re less than a mile from your destination and Din abruptly halts without warning. “How will I know?”

You nearly slip as you whirl around to face him, worried at first but then confused when the question registers. “Know what?”

“If I’ve met my match,” he answers, the hand branded with his soulmate marking restlessly clenching and unclenching at his side. “How will I know it’s my soulmate?”

It’s a question you’re extremely familiar with. Maker knows exactly how many times you’ve been asked it throughout your years as a Cupid, but it’s got to be nearing a couple hundred thousand at least. And yet your usual go-to answer—a speech fed to you by your bosses about the perfect plan of the universe—doesn’t feel right to give him. He deserves your own honest opinion.

The first time you ever matched two individuals, you’d naively expected literal sparks to appear when they shook hands. Or a beam of light to shine down on them from above, an unmistakable sign from the universe they were meant to be together. So you were crushed when absolutely nothing noteworthy happened, only that neither one was able to look away from each other, eyes as wide as moons and full of awe. The same kind of awe usually reserved for watching sunsets and hearing a baby’s first cry of life.

You’d realized then the exact moment soulmates experienced their connection was not something externally witnessed by the eyes of the world. It was an internal sensation felt only by the two halves finally becoming whole.

“They’re called your soulmate for a reason, Din,” you say, slowly drawing closer. You’re not truly cognizant of your actions, only your voice, and perhaps that’s why you reach out to take a hold of his gloved hand, rubbing your thumb over his leather-covered knuckles. Distantly, as if looking through a foggy window, you’re aware of the way his whole body freezes at your touch, but still you hold on, still the words keep flowing from your lips.

“The moment you shake their hand, there will be no doubt. It’ll be instant. Like you’re tasting air for the first time after being trapped underwater. Everything will be clearer, colors brighter. Your whole world will crumble apart at their feet because all that matters now is them. And the only thought you’ll be able to think is, ‘It’s you. All this time I’ve been waiting for you.’”

Din sucks in a ragged breath. It’s only barely audible because of your closeness, but it’s also just loud enough to snap you out of your daze. “Angel,” he says hesitantly. It’s your turn to freeze when he leans in, helmet pressing softly against your forehead. “Have you ever—“

You jerk backwards, cutting Din off and releasing your grip on his hand all in the same movement. Panic is swelling in your chest and you can’t stop it, clothes suddenly feeling too constricting and you force yourself to remember why you’re here on Sorgan, the importance of the mission at stake.

“We need to keep moving,” you say, looking anywhere but Din’s direction. “I don’t think the village is that much further.”

Din watches you silently, no doubt trying to make sense of your agitated state. You feel exposed, torn open at the seams with all your insecurities on full display for him to pick apart and criticize.

In the end though, he only heaves a sigh, respectfully granting you time to begin the slow process of stitching yourself back up.

“Lead the way,” Din says, gesturing towards the path with a nod of his head. “I go where you go.”

The rest of the journey would have been completed in silence, if not for how Din’s unfinished question seemed to float alongside you in the breeze, echoing in your ears.

Have you ever...

                                                 Have you ever...

                                                                                          Have you ever...

~~~

The villagers are scared of your arrival at first, panicked to be in the presence of Death. Parents clutch at their children and the elderly are ushered into huts, as if they’ll be better protected by being kept out of Din’s field of vision.

“I promise you, we don’t mean any harm,” you say, but your words do little to reassure any of them.

A woman emerges from the crowd, the only one whose expression doesn’t bear a hint of fear. Segments of her dark hair are intricately braided while the rest flows unhindered over her shoulders, long enough to nearly reach her waist. Her features are delicate, but there is strength in how she carries herself as she marches right up to you and Din, shoulders drawn back with determination.

“Omera,” you breathe, recognizing the woman for the goddess she truly is.

“Yes,” she says, sounding reluctant to confirm her identity. Her eyes flick between you and Din. “Who are you and why have you brought Death here? I have a formal agreement with the Guild that grants me permission to personally handle the passing of my people’s souls into the afterlife. Death should have no purpose here.”

This is news to you. 

Not the reference of the Guild—you’re very much aware of Greef Karga’s organization of reapers who assist Din in maintaining the natural order by collecting deceased souls on his behalf across the galaxy. Despite all the powers that come with being Death, Din is unable to be everywhere all at once. So the reapers bring the souls to Nevarro where Karga holds onto them until Din arrives to usher them into the afterlife. 

What you weren’t aware of is her claim that this village might be the one place in the whole galaxy where Death and his associates have no influence.

“I’m a Cupid. I help people find their soulmates.” You gesture to Din who stands so tense behind you, you’re not entirely certain he’s even breathing. “And currently, I’m helping him.”

The way Omera’s expression instantly brightens is almost comical. A smile grows across her face, warm and friendly as if she’s known you for years and not mere seconds. “Oh, forgive me my rudeness. That’s wonderful to hear. It’s been quite some time since we’ve had guests. Would you like something to drink?”

“Actually—” Din starts, speaking for the first time since you’ve arrived.

“Yes, I would love one,” you interrupt, digging your elbow into his side and eliciting a soft grunt. “I heard the spotchka here is exceptional.”

The villagers, who had relaxed once Omera deemed you and Din weren’t a threat, are eager to prove their reputation as spotchka brewmasters. Nothing brings people together like alcoholic beverages, and within the hour you are sitting on a log bench in the village center and chatting amicably with them.

It’s a happy, tight knit community. Omera’s nurturing powers have only further increased it’s natural conditioning as an ideal sanctuary to raise a family. Everyone knows one another and takes care of each other. You can see how easy it was for her to have fallen in love with the place.

“He’s different than I expected.” Omera interrupts your thoughts by nodding to someone behind you.

You follow her line of sight, and see Din standing distantly in a field of grass, surrounded by a squadron of younglings. He’s too far to be heard, but you can tell by the gesturing of his hands that he’s explaining to them the pieces of his armor. They’re hanging onto his every word, completely enthralled, if their wide-eyed expressions are any indication. You realize as you watch that they’ll never come to recognize Din as the true identity of Death due to Omera’s agreement with the Guild. In their eyes, he is just an interesting stranger wearing shiny metal who they can pester with an endless amount of questions.

“He’s got many layers,” you admit, turning back around before the bittersweet scene makes your heart melt into a disgusting puddle at your feet.

And it is only because you look away first that you notice how Omera’s gaze lingers just a beat too long.

“Does he ever take it off?” she asks. “The helmet, I mean.”

You hesitate, stalling by sipping at your spotchka. “Not when he’s Death.”

Omera looks at you like you’ve told her a riddle. “When is Death not Death?”

When he’s with me, the voice in the back of your head wants you to shout at her, but instead you ask, “You said earlier you handle the souls of the villagers when they pass away?” 

“They asked me if I could protect their planet for future generations,” Omera explains slowly, confusion still present in the lines of her face. “My powers are strongly connected to the growth of life, blessing both expectant mothers and nature’s saplings. After I chose to bind myself to Sorgan, the villagers offered to lend me their souls as sources of energy to further strengthen it. So now, rather than losing them to the afterlife, we continue to see those who have passed on in every blossoming flower and in each drop of rain, remaining part of our everyday lives despite their physical absence.”

“That’s beautiful,” you breathe, because it’s the truth. It’s also the confirmation you needed to hear to honestly tell her, “He wouldn’t be Death here. He’d have the opportunity to be anyone else he wanted.”

Omera lets the words sink in for a moment, then she returns to staring at Din, eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully. You don’t blame her for being curious, especially since he’s barely said anything to her, subsequently forcing you to be the sociable one. 

You thought when you both arrived he’d try harder than this to make a good first impression. Omera’s his potential soulmate, he knows this and yet it seems as if he’s doing all he can to avoid her. 

Omera startles you out of your thoughts when she abruptly inches closer to you, as if preparing to share a secret in your ear.

“You said you were helping Death find his soulmate,” Omera’s voice is no louder than a murmur, seeming uncharacteristically bashful all of the sudden as she tugs at a strand of hair. “Does he...Has he been marked?”

It occurs to you then that this whole time she’s been fishing for information from you, gradually leading up to this particular question. This is a good thing, you tell yourself, despite the sickening pit forming in your stomach. It means she hasn’t been offended by his standoffishness. 

“Yes.” Your head dips in a jerky nod. Fortunately the goddess doesn’t notice your awkwardness as she peers down at her hands folded in her lap. You know what’s there without having to see it. “We came here because I knew you’d been marked too.” 

“I’d hoped so,” she confesses, showing you her palm. “I didn’t think it was possible, someone like me having a soulmate.” An immortal, your mind deciphers her underlying meaning. “But, then again, the universe always seems to be full of surprises, right?”

Soulmate markings all resemble each other as black lines forming the shape of a heart no bigger than a bottlecap in the center of one’s palm, regardless of what the person looks like themselves. They only appear on select individuals the universe picks for reasons known only by the divine Maker. Those without marks often make the ignorant mistake of comparing them to tattoos. A soulmate mark doesn’t fade with time like ink does, remaining eternally vibrant and warm to the touch, as if there’s a tiny flame buried beneath the skin.

You’ve seen thousands of marks on thousands of hands, yet your mouth dries up at the sight of hers despite it looking no different. An unexpected tremor rocks your body, worse than anything you’ve ever felt before. It’s as if you’ve been stabbed by an invisible shard of ice, threatening to freeze you solid from the inside out.

When you speak, each word scrapes against the inside of your throat and tastes bitter on your tongue. “You should go talk to him.”

Omera’s face goes a bit pink. “You think so?”

You force yourself to smile, hoping it doesn’t resemble a grimace or, Maker forbid, a snarl. “I think you’ll never know if he’s your match unless you do.”

Not needing any more convincing, she spares you one last hopeful look before leaving to approach Din. She walks across the grassy field with unhindered grace, not once tripping over a rock or the bottom of her dress, and you can’t help feeling envious, knowing your clumsy feet wouldn’t be able to carry you three steps without an issue. You watch as she says something to the children, inducing several disappointed groans audible even from where you sit, before one by one they each depart, seeking entertainment elsewhere in the village.

Omera and Din fall into conversation, and you bite your lip, knowing you’re only making the ache hurt worse by watching but unable to tear your eyes away. Their conversation is too quiet for you to make out, but given the way Din’s body language is relaxed and without a hint of defensiveness, you’re convinced Omera’s definitely charming him.

They’ll make an attractive couple, you think before you can stop yourself. They’re similar, too, in that they both have protective streaks a mile wide when it comes to those they care about. As a divinely gifted caretaker, Omera will know just what to say to pull him out of one of his brooding episodes. She’ll soften his rough edges, lend him strength when he needs it most, and might even be able to convince him to settle down in the village where he can shed his persona as Death and actually experience life. Most importantly, though, you hope she’ll make him happy.

Because Din deserves someone who will make him happy every day of his existence.

You know it’s coming, but still your breath stutters when you see Din begin to remove his glove. He moves slowly, revealing tanned skin inch by inch as he pulls at the leather with his other hand. He has never been one to hesitate over things in the past, except when he showed you his mark that night at the train station. You really don’t want to think that Din could be nervous, but you also can’t determine any other reason explaining his behavior. Omera, for her part, is the perfect image of patience as she waits for him to initiate contact, if not for the way you spy her pulling anxiously at her brown locks again.

As Din reaches out to grab hold of Omera's hand, there is a second right before contact where his helmet shifts in your direction and you feel the intensity of his gaze cut through the distance, piercing your fragile heart.

In the next breath, an invisible explosive force sends you hurtling backwards through the air several feet. You bite your tongue when you collide with the ground and blood begins pooling in your mouth, causing you to gag at the coppery taste. Ignoring the pain emanating from your undoubtedly bruised rib cage, you force your body to roll over so you can spit out a scarlet blob onto the dirt. Gross, you think sluggishly.

Movement out of the corner of your eye has your head turning to look, but it takes several more seconds before your brain comprehends what you’re seeing.

The village looks as if a massive wind storm has swept through it in the last five seconds. Several villagers are slowly rising onto their feet, having apparently also been roughly tossed to the ground, looking just as bewildered by the state of things as you feel.

Your eyes next lock onto Din’s figure. He and Omera stand in the distance exactly where you last saw them, appearing completely unaffected by the unseen force. But rather than looking at each other with awe as all other soulmate pairs do, there is only unbridled shock on Omera’s face.

With newfound urgency, you stumble onto your feet, knowing something’s gone horribly wrong.

“Din!”

Your shout startles him enough he visibly jolts, increasing your worry tenfold.

Your feet skid to a stop closer to his body than you anticipated, nearly colliding face-first with his chest. It’s on the tip of your injured tongue to ask them what the hell just happened when Din beats you to the punch.

“What happened to you?” he demands, cradling your jaw. He’s using his gloved hand, you can’t help but notice. His other one—still uncovered from when it had touched Omera’s—is pressed firmly against the segment of armor protecting his upper thigh. His thumb starts to wipe at the blood staining the corner of your mouth, but you refuse to be tended to when there’s a bigger issue at stake.

“What happened?” you repeat incredulously, pulling away and resisting the urge to smack the side of his helmet. “I should be asking you that, idiot. Did you two match?”

Omera says nothing in response to your question, but there is something about the way she stares at you directly, like you’ve revealed a secret of the universe right in front of her, that brings back the same self-conscious feeling of being exposed you’d felt earlier.

“Look for yourself, angel,” Din answers with a tone full of scorn, gesturing widely to your surroundings with both arms. “Does any of this look like what you told me would happen?”

Taken aback by his hostile tone, you glance around the field, only to be stunned by what you’d initially failed to notice. In an almost perfect circle encompassing the three of you, the once beautifully green and luscious grass is now black and shriveled, entirely devoid of life. It crunches beneath your shoes as you nervously shift in place, eerily resembling the sound of bone breaking, and you’re beginning to understand the shock you’d glimpsed on Omera’s face.

“No,” you say, feeling slightly hysterical but doing your best to keep it out of your voice. “No, it definitely doesn’t.”

Omera had said that the universe is always full of surprises.

What a kriffing understatement that turned out to be.

Tag List: @leilei-draws​, @theocatkov​, @becauseican2, @vintagesaph​, @stardust-and-starlight​, @kay2304, @odelia-d32, @adrieunor​, @remmyswritings​, @gallowsjoker​, @rhiannon-russo​, @randomness501​, @eleine-t1d​, @nicotinebirds, @sylphene​, @softly-sad​, @maytheglitter​, @melobee, @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives​

[victoria-daydreams]

The Long Way Home

Chapter Three: What the Hell Happened to Him?

AN: Thanks for the birthday wishes everyone and thank you to everyone who has liked this story! Claudia hasn’t even shown up, but you all are invested in this story and I appreciate it!

Trigger Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.4k

Taglist: @iloveeverything-09, @eiferundruhe​, @greatscott--wrongdecade​

Chapter Four: Recruiting for a Jailbreak

Logan, Hank, and Charles all stood around a table, discussing how to get Erik out.

"The room there holding him in was built during the Second World War when there was a shortage of steel. So, the foundation is pure concrete and sand. No metal," Hank explained, gesturing to a rolled out blueprint of the Pentagon, specifically, the facility Erik was being held in.

"He's being held a hundred floors under the most heavily guarded building on the planet," Charles added, with a sigh.

A look of confusion took over Logan's face, "Why's he in there?" he inquired, his eyes bouncing between Hank and Charles.

Charles let out a snort and raised his head as the rest of his body hunched over. "Did he forget to mention?" he asked with a laugh that was anything, but humorous.

"Uh...JFK." Hank muttered.

"He killed..." Logan trailed off, with shock evident in his tone before cutting himself off in disbelief. "That was Erik?" he questioned.

"How else do you explain a bullet miraculously curving through the air? Erik's always had a way with guns," Charles said snidely, as he turned his head to face Logan. "You sure you want to carry on with this?" he asked, uncertainty evident in his voice.

You could tell that a part of him wished that Logan would give up. Naturally, that didn't happen.

"Hey, this is your plan, not mine," Logan shrugged.

"We don't have the resources to get us in," Hank argued, shaking his head.

"Or out," Charles added. "It's just me and Hank," he breathed out.

Logan paused for a moment, "I know a guy. Yeah, he'd be a young man now, living outside of D.C.," he chuckled, as a look of fond memories filled his eyes. "He could get into anywhere. Just don't know how the hell we're gonna find him..." Logan trailed off.

Hank turned to Charles, "Is Cerebro of the question?" he asked, and Charles rolled his eyes before lowering his head down, slightly nodding it with an exhale. "We have a phone book," Hank offered.

~~~x~~~

"Here, here, here," Logan said, as he leaned forward between the seats.

"Where?" Charles questioned, carefully driving down the small street.

"Just stop here," Logan replied with agitation.

"All right, all right!" Charles surrendered, pulling up to a house in a suburban neighborhood.

"Next time I'm driving," Logan scoffed, as Charles brought the car to a stop, it was clear he hadn't driven in years.

"Don't get used to it," Charles retorted, rolling his eyes.

The three of men stepped out of the car and up to the house's front porch, passing by a mailbox with 'Maximoff' written across it's side. Strangely, the doormat at the front door had skid marks across the lettering. Logan knocked on the dark wooden door, before watching it open up to a brunette middle-aged woman her smile dropping from her face.

"What's he done now?" she sighed. "I'll just write you a check for whatever he took..." she shook her head, the woman sounded so tired.

"We just need to talk to him," Logan reassured, she nodded and opened the door all they way, allowing them in.

"Peter!" She called. "The cops are here!" she stepped out of their way. "Again." she added, seemingly sick and tired of her son's troublemaking antics. "Down there," she told them, pointing to a door.

Logan turned the knob and led the group down the wooden stairs. Stolen road signs hung on or leaned against the walls as they made their way further down. There was music was playing loud along with what sounded like a ping pong game. Once the men got to the last step, they stood in a large room and witnessed a peculiar sight. There was indeed a ping pong game being played by a young man with silver hair, but he was playing against himself, rushing to each side to hit the ball effortlessly.

"What do you guys want?" Peter asked quickly, not taking his eyes off the game before flashing past them and onto a couch eating an almost finished popsicle, "I've been here all day," he told them.

"Just relax, Peter. We're not cops-" Logan reassured, before Peter cut him off.

"Course you're not cops. If you were cops you wouldn't be driving a rental car," Peter pointed out.

Charles raised his eyebrow, "How'd you know we got a rental car?" he questioned.

"I checked your registration when you were walking to the door. I also had some time to kill so I went through your rental agreement. Saw you were from out of town. Are you FBI?" he asked, speaking quickly. Using his speed, he grabbed Charles' wallet in a second, looking through it's contents. "No, you're not cops. Hey, what's with this Gifted Youngsters' place?" he asked, as he sped away, dropping the wallet and Charles' business card on the floor.

"That's an old card," Charles stated annoyed, slipping the items back into his pocket.

"He's fascinating..." Hank commented, watching Peter speed around.

"He's a pain in the arse," Charles scoffed, running his hand through his hair, which was windblown because of Peter's speed.

"What? A teleporter?" Hank questioned.

"No, he's just fast. And when I knew him he wasn't so...young," Logan replied.

Peter frowned at his statement before grinning, "Young? You're just old," he quipped.

They turned back to the couch, seeing Peter already lounging on it finishing up a popsicle that he just got.

Hank stepped forward, "So you're not afraid to show your powers," he observed, raising an eyebrow.

Peter faked innocence, "What powers? What are you talking about? Do you see something strange here? Nothing anybody would believe if you told them..." he said very quickly, before zipped between Charles and Logan to the Pac-Man machine across the room, that was obviously stolen. "So, who are you? What do you want?" he asked.

"We need your help, Peter," Logan stated briefly.

"For what?" he quickly asked back, keeping his eyes glued to the game screen.

"To break into a highly secured facility...and get someone out,"

"Prison break? That's illegal you know..." Peter chuckled back, looking at the middle aged men who were apparently planning to do something worse than all of his crimes combined.

"Um..." Logan looked around the room at all the stolen items filling the room, which were mainly TV's and Twinkie boxes that still had price tags on them. Logan turned back to look at Peter who was still playing his game. "Well, only if you get caught,"

"So, what's in it for me?" Peter asked, keeping his eyes glued to the game screen.

"You, you kleptomaniac, get to break into the Pentagon," Charles informed, taking off his sunglasses to wipe his eyes.

This promise piqued Peter's interest, he stopped playing the game and turned around to face them.

"How do I know I can trust you?" Peter questioned.

"Because we're just like you," Logan said plainly, keeping his arms folded.

"Show him," Charles told Logan.

Logan raised his fist up, slowly, three bone claws poked through his skin and grew between his fingers.

Peter grimaced before nodding, "That's cool, but disgusting,"

~~~x~~~

"Built in 1943, the Pentagon is the world's largest office building," The tour guide began her routine. Charles, Hank, and Logan walked together in a large tourist group. "Housing more than 25,000 military employees stretched out over six million square feet,"

"Where's the bathroom?" a little boy near the front asked.

"He always need to pee!" the little boy's sister groaned.

"Well, lucky for you, you'll have plenty to choose from. The building was constructed during the segregation so..."

Logan and Charles quickly slip away from the tour guide, throwing their visitor's passes in a bin at the bottom of the stairs they went down. While Peter went away earlier to break Erik out. Hank stayed with the group and as discreetly as he could, pulled out a small a radio monitor twisting a couple switches—to interfere with the security camera signals. When activated, it would cut all the signals in the Pentagon, canceling the security footage and show Sanford & Son on the screens.

Logan and Charles climbed several flights of stairs until they finally reach door to the Pentagon kitchen. Signaling for Hank to set off the fire alarm sprinklers causing water to sprinkle down on the staff and them. Charles began speaking right away.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, this is a Code Red situation. We are evacuating the entire floor...so that my associates and I...can, uh, secure the prison..." Charles finished, and Logan sent him a 'what the hell?' look, but all the kitchen staff immediately left, leaving only two guards to deal with.

"Who are you?" One of the guards asked, advancing on them.

'We're special operations, CB...FB-CID..." Charles was getting flustered. "Perhaps you didn't hear me when first I spoke...but it is imperative that you understand... we're in a complete lock down situation. We have to get you to the third floor..."

Logan getting frustrated with Charles' rambling, rolled his eyes before taking charge of the situation. He walked forward to the guards, grabbing a frying pan on his way and punched one guard in his gut before smashing the pan on the other guard's leg then slapping him with it, knocking him out cold. Logan used the pan again on the guard that was doubled over and smashed the pan against his arm, throwing over a cart of food.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Were you finished?" Logan asked Charles sarcastically.

He stared at him in shock for a few seconds before shaking his head and grabbing the key to the lift from one of the guards.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, looking up to meet Logan's eyes. "I'm just not very good with violence," he declared, as the elevator doors opened.

Revealing someone Charles never thought he'd see again...Erik.

Erik looked at his old friend in shock, "Charles?" he asked in surprise.

Charles looked at him for a second before his face scrunched up, fiery with anger, and he launched a blow into the other man's face. Charles was no fighter though and ended up stumbling into the corner of the lift.

"Good to see you too, old friend," Erik commented, as he wiped at his sore lip. "And walking." He noted.

"No thanks to you!" Charles snarled.

"You're the last person in the world I expected to see today," Erik stated truthfully.

"Believe me, I wouldn't be here if I didn't have to," he informed the man. He quickly advanced on him. "If we get you out of here, we do it my way. No killing," Charles demanded.

Erik nodded unfazed, "No helmet," he said, tapping his head. "I couldn't disobey you even if I wanted," Erik reminded.

"I am never getting inside that head again. I need your word, Erik," Charles pressed.

Erik nodded his head slightly, not knowing the truth that Charles had lost his powers. Once there silent agreement was established between the two of them they turned to walk out of the lift. Before they could even leave they were surrounded by six security guards, aiming their guns at the intruders who broke into the Pentagon.

"Nobody move! Hold it right there!" an officer shouted.

"Charles," Erik called, turning to his friend.

"Don't move! Hands up, or we will shoot!" another ordered.

"Freeze them Charles!" Erik instructed him.

"I can't," Charles admitted bitterly.

Erik's face dropped, looking at his old friend then faced forward with a look of determination. Suddenly, all the metal in the room began to vibrate.

"No!" Charles cried, as the metal rose into the air causing the guards to fire their guns.

Logan held up his hand and his bone claws began to protrude from his knuckles. While Peter put on his goggles and slid on his headphones and began to zip around the room. Everything seemed to be going in slow motion compared to the pace that Peter was moving. He knocked some guards' hats off, poked another one's cheek as he ran along the wall. He set one of the officer's fist right beside his own face, so he'd knock himself out. He pulled a plate out of the air and sent it flying across the room. He gave two men a wedgies and raced back to move the bullets fired from the officers guns from their targets. He raised them slightly above everyone's head and stood back in his place.

Erik was the first to recover from the shock of everything that had just happened. They all looked around in complete confusion. Charles looked at the young man who was smiling at them. Charles made his way through the kitchen and out the door without even a second glance. Erik looked down at Logan's claws for a moment, and followed Charles out.

Logan nodded, "Thanks, kid," he said, patting Peter on the shoulder as he passed.

He grinned and jogged to catch up with everyone. The mutants left the Pentagon building as quickly as they could. Hank stood outside with the car, waiting for them to return. He started the car immediately as soon as he saw everyone, once the five men were seated in the car Hank took off from the parking lot.

"So, that's it then? Right?" Peter asked, looking at the older mutants.

"Still gotta get Claudia," Hank replied, focusing on the road.

"Get?" Erik echoed, before glancing at Charles. "I was wondering why the lovely Claudia was strangely absent from your side," he stated.

Charles' lips formed into a thin line, "It's a long story that I rather not delve into right now," he complained, narrowing his eyes at Erik. "I hope either of you remember seeing her address in the phone book, because I don't," he said.

"Well, that's the thing, I didn't see a Claudia Walker listed," Logan responded, frustration lining his forehead. "We have no way of finding her." He added.

Hank began to shift uncomfortably in the driver's seat which Charles noticed, frowning he slowly leaned forward in his seat.

"What is it, Hank?" Charles asked, sensing something was off.

Hank was most definitely hiding something, and it was setting Charles on edge slightly. Even Logan seemed to pick this up and looked curiously at him.

"Charles..." Hank called. "How angry would you be if I told you I had Claudia's address...for several years now?"

Chapter Five: A Summer Place

[lizzie-saltzman]

I’LL CRAWL HOME TO YOU

A Hizzie fanfiction / update

Pairing: Hope Mikaelson/Lizzie Saltzman Fandom: Legacies Rating: M Chapters: 2/? Summary:  In many ways, meeting Hope in a different reality had helped Lizzie put things in perspective, and perhaps even understand her in ways she hadn’t before. Understand them, their connection, the palpable animosity that had turned into a reluctant friendship and now something far more tangible. The rest, well, she doesn’t tell Josie. Not about waking up after three weeks away from her real home, tucked under the covers of Hope’s bed with their clothes discarded around the dormitory, with a light sheen of sweat on her forehead and her hair sticking to her cheekbones. There were some things better left unsaid. (Upon her return from an alternate timeline a Malivore monster teleported her to, Lizzie must deal with the aftermath of her time spent away, and her newly doormat feelings for Hope Mikaelson.)

chapter 1 here

READ CH. 2 HERE ON AO3 or under the read more 

[ 3 WEEKS AGO ]

A muddy splash sends speckles of murky water coating a pair of white boots. Under the full moon, an owl hoots, as Lizzie Saltzman breaks through the branches that leave a bloody mark on her left cheek. She reaches for it, with a mumbled expletive as her breathing grows heavier and her knees start to give. Behind her, a black wolf with yellow tinted eyes that shine through the darkness of the woods gives chase, snarling as it draws closer to her. 

She’s been sprinting for a while; Lizzie’s exhausted, pushing past the burn on her thighs as she rounds a corner and leaps over a log dangerously set on the ground, almost losing her balance as her boot skids through the mud. Its drizzling, her clothes are weighing her down, her hair is ruined – if she had the mind to complain about the other terrible but insignificant, personal circumstances, she’d be holding an ice pack to her cheek and ranting over a Strawberry Smoothie. Instead, she finds herself here, in the outskirts of the woods in Mystic Falls, barely managing to get on her feet before the wolf catches up to her. 

“Lecutio!” She’s all out of magic after –– the ball of energy flies ahead of the wolf and crashes against the tree behind it, effectively snapping off the branches and watching as they fall near the wolf long enough to distract it. It wasn’t her intention, really – she was aiming for it’s head. Soon enough, the wolf turns it’s head (and it’s disorienting eyes) in her direction, growling.

“Crap…” And she takes off again, her boots splash, splash, splashing rapidly on the wet floor. This is not how she pictured spending a Sunday night. 

Her lungs are giving out, her body begs her to stop running; she might pass out from exhaustion alone, and her vision – on top of that – blurs as the light drizzle of rain washes over her face. She wipes it away with the palm of her hand, but it obstructs her already impaired vision in the dark, and trips over a boulder on the ground. Lizzie groans, her body rolling through the mud, and the wolf slows it’s approach. She’s cornered. She’s screwed. She’s dead.

The wolf stalks forward. Lizzie raises her hands to her face, and it launches itself through the air. 

Lizzie screams, anticipating the powerful impact, the bite, but instead another wolf collides in the air with her attacker. White, with speckles of grey. They roll around in the mud, snarling at each other, growling, taking bites anywhere their teeth can sink into until they’re both back on their feet. Lizzie watches, covering her mouth as she gasps, pushing herself back until her shoulders meet one of the trees behind her. 

Then, the white wolf attacks the black one again. They begin their vicious snarling, and as Lizzie finds the force to pick herself off the ground, she hears one of them whimper. When she looks back, the black wolf is retreating, disappearing through the trees, and the white one turns, even slower in its approach. Lizzie’s eyes widen, out of magic, and out of breath, but she turns around in an attempt to try and run away again. 

Except she spins out, when she feels her black hoodie being yanked away from her body, leaving her in a tank top under the rain that starts to pick up. She turns around angrily, but instead of finding a white wolf stalking back, she finds –

“Hope?” 

Hope is sporting her too-big-for-her hoodie over her naked body and watching her with her arms crossed over her chest. It covers just enough. Not everything. Just enough. 

“Oh, thank God!” Lizzie exclaims, throwing her arms around Hope in sweet, sweet relief as she tries to catch her breath. “I thought I was dead. Dead, dead.” 

But she knows Hope Mikaelson. Always coming through with her last minute heroics. 

Except this time, Hope pushes her away, hands on her shoulders, taking a step back to get a good look at her. They look at each other, almost comically; Hope with an eyebrow quirked and Lizzie, with her mouth agape. Then, Hope’s strange behavior is perfectly clear –

“Who the hell are you?” 

------

[ PRESENT DAY ]

“Lizzie!”

Hope’s tired voice carries down the hallway. Behind her, Lizzie can hear her footsteps approaching – faster, faster – until they stop at her side, walking in tandem with her into the vast, otherwise dusty library at the end of the hall, where students gather quietly over a pile of books raging from anything about the occult to the mundane – European History and an old, thick Gaelic book about Magical Portals that thuds on the ground as it falls sloppily from the top of the bookshelf and almost takes Lizzie out. Talk about head trauma.

“Hey, watch it!” Lizzie looks up as dust gathers below her. Alyssa Chang stands on the top of the rolling ladder, shrugging nonchalantly. Whoops.

Lizzie picks up the book, coughs, swatting the dust away and piling it on top of Hope’s already busy hands. Hope says nothing, only blinks away the speckles of dust as she trails behind Lizzie with concern.

“I haven’t seen you all day. Is everything okay?” 

She shouldn’t be taken aback, but she is, by the genuine worried inflection in Hope Mikaelson’s voice. Hope is tired, the evidence marked clearly on her face, vaguely darkened circles under her eyes that Hope barely had mind to conceal this morning with even the smallest layer of makeup. No one would be able to tell, not really, but Lizzie can. She knows that look Hope carries around like a weight on her back when something’s been keeping her up at night. 

In front of the tinted window sill, Lizzie turns. The yellow light reflects off Hope’s exhausted, blue eyes, and Lizzie almost stutters, opting to instead, snatch the book back from the pile already gathered on Hope’s arms and toss it onto the nearest unoccupied table. 

No, Hope. I’ve been avoiding you all morning until this very unfortunate meeting where we’ll be subjected to a torturous hour of incessant nerd rambling on how to kill the very same monster that sent me through a hell portal into another dimension where I hooked up with you and your unforgettable muscles and now I can’t even look at you in the eyes without thinking about it, so–

“I’m fine”. Lizzie says, saccharine sweet. Too sweet. Enough to make Hope suspicious, as she looks at the book Lizzie tossed on the table with an eyebrow raised. “I was having a perfectly fine morning until MG interrupted my strictly scheduled morning meditation and after reluctantly agreeing to meet here in exactly five minutes, the kitchen was out of Belgian Waffles, so I had to settle for a non-fat Greek yogurt. So yes, I’ve been severely inconvenienced, but it has nothing to do with you”.

“I never said it has –” Hope starts. “Shouldn’t we talk about it? About what happened…” 

Lizzie stiffens. 

“With the monster…”

She deflates.

“We still don’t know if there are any side effects to any of this. Doctor Saltzman said you refused to talk to Emma about what happened –”

“And now you’re giving me advice about what I should and shouldn’t talk to our school therapist about?” Lizzie scoffs, on the defensive, arms crossed tightly over her chest. “That’s rich, Hope”. 

“That’s not what I meant –”

“Everyone at this school is so prolific at internalizing every shitty thing that happens to us on a weekly basis but since this one particular thing happened to me, then of course I’m the one who has to have the damage control, witchy therapy sessions with Emma despite the fact that I’ve already told everyone who’s asked that I’m fine!” 

“Lizzie –”

“Is that why you were looking for me this morning? You wanted to check up on me?” 

“Yes”. Hope says sincerely. Its her version of an olive branch – honesty. Lizze frowns, but Hope touches her wrist and she stays frozen in place, like she’s been jolted and immobilized by an invisible force. “The same night you found your way back to us you rushed into the woods on a near suicide mission to help me fight a monster we’re still not sure how to kill. Of course I wanted to check up on you. I was worried. You left my bedroom so suddenly last night that I didn’t even have time to ask how you were feeling. I wasn’t sure if you were ever going to come back. I wasn’t sure if we were ever going to see you again.”

Lizzie takes a breath, defeated. We, we, we – she has no right to be stung by the plurality of the word, but it gives her that feeling in the middle of her throat, like it runs dry, like one wrong word from Hope and she might break down in tears. 

“I want to make sure you’re okay”. Hope continues. “You’re my best friend”. 

And that’s the tragedy of it. She’s Hope’s best friend. Anything beyond that is nothing but something she could only clearly wish for in another timeline. One where Hope doesn’t know about her baggage, one where they got a clean slate to restart their history, no rumors, no backhanded comments…

“Me too”. Lizzie whispers. She brings her thumb up to brush over the side of Hope’s hand. 

She thinks about holding it. She almost does, until –

“Yo, guys. We should get this show on the road”. Jed interjects, seemingly out of nowhere, picking up the book Lizzie had discarded on the table earlier and hopping over the banister towards the center table in the now empty library, where the rest of the squad has now gathered around one of Wade’s Dungeons and Dragons books. 

By the time Lizzie pulls her hand back and they both gather around the table, Wade’s already settled in with the group.

“– That’s the thing though. Dimensional Warpers don’t usually engage in combat, but they do like learning about their enemies and their battle tactics. They’re not usually ones to initiate but they’ll fight if they sense that their life is in danger.”

“That explains why it disappeared last night and didn’t come back”. Hope pushes her way in between MG and Jed at the front and center of the table. “Do you think it’s after something?”

“Maybe. I can’t imagine another reason why Malivore would’ve spit that particular monster out. They’re elusive, hard to kill, and they only come out at night. Their night vision is impeccable”. 

“How do we kill it?” 

“Well, they are giant, bipedal, flying snakes, but they’re still snakes. I think we all know what the easiest way to kill one is –”

“Cut off it’s head”. Lizzie deadpans. Everyone turns, and Lizzie stands on the other side of the table, looking intently at the picture of the creature on Wade’s book. 

And Hope, looking at the magical artifacts on the far side display, slumps her shoulders. 

“We’re gonna need a very big sword”. 

------

[ 3 WEEKS AGO ]

“Is your name Lizzie Saltzman?” 

“Yes”. Between two slender and shaky hands, an orb flashes blue. 

Across the antique, expensive looking desk in front of her, and a family portrait in the space where a tinted window used to sit, Klaus Mikaelson looks at Hope with concern and curiosity. Hope, looking taller and prouder as her hand rests upon Klaus’ leather chair, gives him a side eye. 

She remembers Klaus from when she was younger, just as intimidating and commanding as he had been the day he’d sought out their help to save Hope from the Hollow all those years ago. She also remembers the Klaus she’s read about, in the books tucked away in the very same library a couple of doors down the hallway; the tales about The Great Evil. The boogeyman to end them all. The man who had terrorized Mystic Falls and claimed New Orleans like a dynasty, the man who had courted her mother until the day he died — but she also remembers the Klaus Mikaelson that Hope had told her about. The father. The man weighed down by the consequences of his choices and the drive to ensure his family’s survival, their safety, no matter the cost. In one universe, it had already cost him his life. In this one, the story seems to have been painted differently. 

In this story, Hope is different. She’s prouder, she wears a scowl like armor but not with the purpose of pushing everyone away. This Hope reminds her of an heiress. Someone destined to inherit something bigger and greater than herself. Maybe it’s all this, Lizzie thinks. The Mikaelson School. Maybe it’s another kingdom entirely. 

She looks… Good. Really good. 

“Are you Alaric Saltzman’s daughter?” Hope continues. 

“Yes”. Blue again. 

“That doesn’t make any sense”. Klaus moves to take the orb from her hands, but Hope is faster — much faster — grabs his father’s arm before he can snatch it. 

“Dad, you can’t fool the magical lie detector. They’re simple yeses or no's”.

Klaus respects her, she can tell, because he backs off and opens a drawer in his desk, takes out a heavy looking file — and pulls out a picture of her dad. He puts it in front of her. 

“This man is your father?” He asks her again. 

“Yes”. 

And like clockwork, the orb shines blue again. 

“That doesn’t make any sense —” Lizzie goes to interject but Klaus holds his finger up, standing from his chair with his hands behind his back, circling around the office like a man with a decision to make. Technically he is… a man with a decision to make. About her. 

Which really, really gives her the chills. The bad kind. 

“— You see, Alaric is a slobber of a drunk man who unfortunately lost his wife on his wedding day. He was supposed to father two children, twins actually, and his psychopathic to-be brother-in-law murdered his fiancé at the altar. His daughters perished with her. He lost his Tenure at Mystic Falls High, now teaches a second-rate-history class at a local college, and he let the rest of his dreams die in the bottom of a bottle of stale whiskey and fatty liver disease. That man never got to father any children. He’s barely a man at all. No purpose. No drive”.

“Apparently not in this life —” Lizzie mutters. The orb flashes blue and Hope’s eyes immediately snap to Lizzie’s. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” She’s the one taking the orb from her hands in a blink of an eye. She’s fast. Really fast. It takes her a second to realize, as Hope holds it between her fingertips and looks at her with blind distrust, that the Hope in this universe might not be jaded by the loss of her family, but this one might be jaded by something else.

Like her own death.

Oh. 

“You’re gonna want to sit down for this one”.

------

The Mikaelson School library is even bigger than The Salvatore School’s. The Stallions were branded as the rich, spoiled, and troubled children of Mystic Falls, but the Mikaelson school rivals the self-made stereotype by a tenfold. Lizzie’s staring at a row of books about magic she could have only ever dreamed of reading — it’s obvious to her that Klaus Mikaelson’s vision for a school for the Supernatural was slightly different than her father’s. Somewhere witches, vampires, werewolves and others could live their powers to their full potential. 

She picks a book from the rack, takes another one down with it, but Hope catches it before it can fully fall off the shelf — Necromancy: The Art of the Undead — and pushes it back in its place. 

“If what you told me is true then your father built a school with the same purpose my father did”. She offers. This Hope, now a little less guarded and lit by the light of the full moon by the library window, is much softer, willing to momentarily let her guard down around the pretty stranger with the wavy blonde hair. “He wanted a place where I felt like I belonged. Somewhere he could offer a safe haven not only for me, but for all the witches, all the vampires, and all the werewolves who are forced to do all of this all on their own. The world is cruel and unrepentant. My dad knows that. So he and my mom bought this mansion, expanded it, and made it into a school for the Supernatural. It’s taken off since; we have a branch in Belgium and another one in development in South America. Argentina. Something about the wine…”

For the first time since she’d been blindly dropped into this dimension, Lizzie smiles. But after a much noticeable glance at Lizzie’s lips, Hope continues. “We thought all the Gemini witches were dead. They’re rare. Powerful —” Hope says. It takes a second for Lizzie to notice she’s sizing her down. 

She doesn’t want to talk about how that makes her feel. 

“You have to take someone’s magic to use it, right?” 

And Hope offers her hand. Lizzie’s brows furrow, but she takes it anyway. She’s siphoned magic from Hope before, but not a fully triggered Tribrid Hope. When she drains her power Lizzie feels an adrenaline rush like no other, like sticking her hand directly into a fuse box and taking all the energy in Mystic Falls with it. She watches Hope carefully for any sign of pain, but Hope doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t move, only watches their joined hands. 

Then Lizzie raises her wrist, flicks it, and closes all the doors of The Mikaelson school in simultaneous fashion, making the building tremble. 

“Something like that”. Lizzie grins and Hope lets her hand go. She’s grinning back and Lizzie doesn’t know why that makes her feel drunker than taking all that power from her. “The stronger the source the stronger and the magic we can do, but we can take from anything that’s come in contact with magic. This building, for example. A vampire, a werewolf — miscellaneous…” 

“Well, here at the Mikaelson school we’re always looking for other powerful witches. I know you want to go back home eventually, once we figure out how to send you back, but if you want to stay, we can make room for you.”

They walk past the archway, to a display case with magical artifacts and weapons of all kinds. Some she recognizes, like the dagger that had started it all that brutally eventful day when Rafael joined the school, the urn, an enchanted compass, Papa Tunde’s blade…

“We’ve collected those over the years”. Hope motions to the display case. “Some of them were already in my dad’s possession before we put them here. The display case was enchanted by my aunt, so it’s practically impenetrable and impossible to open unless you’re a Mikaelson, but my mom thinks it’s important to teach these kids everything we can about magic and everything that could hurt them. Some of them —” She continues, sliding her finger over a display case of weapons. “— are just purely decorative though”. 

Lizzie watches Hope’s finger land on the glass over a large broadsword. 

“What exactly do you know about my family?” Hope asks. When she looks at the display again, Lizzie can see her own reflection next to Hope’s on the glass, and when she looks closer at the weapon, their faces on the side of the broadsword. 

“Oh, you have no idea”. 

------

[ PRESENT DAY]

Sparks cloud Lizzie’s vision. At the old mill, in the dead of night, Hope sharpens a sword Lizzie thinks is larger than her standing up. She’d poke fun at her, for wielding such a big weapon for such a small person, but if the past few weeks — days — weeks — whatever, had taught her anything, is how immeasurable the power Hope wields at her fingertips is. Maybe she could provide them both with a quip, if she wasn’t so busy staring at her, agape. 

God, get it together, Lizzie. 

She clears her throat and Hope stops. 

“Hey! I thought we could get a head start with this old thing. Your dad kept it downstairs but I think it’ll give us the firepower we need. It’s a shame though, it’d make for a nice decoration”. 

Lizzie wants to laugh. No, it would make for an awful piece of decoration. She’d seen it displayed neatly on a case, but ancient artifacts and old swords make her think of ancient cursed castles and the ghosts within them. 

“So asks-too-many-questions Hope has now become knight-in-shining-armor Hope. I gotta say, I think I like this version a little bit better”. 

“Because I’m not asking questions?” Hope challenges. 

“That’s part of it”. 

They both laugh, look at each other as Lizzie takes her place beside Hope, until Hope goes stoic again. She puts the blade down, wipes her hands on her dark jeans. 

“Lizzie, I know this isn’t by far the most threatening monster we’ve ever faced but, I think you should stay inside the school. Kaleb and I designed a foolproof plan to kill the —”

“Why are you sidelining me?” Lizzie frowns. “I was of perfectly good help last time you almost got sucked into a portal too, remember?”

“That’s not what I meant —”

“Then what do you mean Hope? I know this isn’t about glory. So what is it? Martyrdom? Pushing people who care about you away?” 

And Hope is surprisingly calm, despite the tension in Lizzie’s voice, despite the way she raises it, despite the way it cuts through the sound of the chirping crickets in the woods. “No. It’s the opposite, actually. It’s about trying to keep the people I care about safe. I don’t want you to end up somewhere you won’t be able to come back to us if we risk it”. 

“What about Kaleb, then? Surely you care about him”. 

A beat.

“Not the way I care about you”. 

They stand there, in the cold of the Old Mill, looking at each other as Hope picks up the sword on the table, and Lizzie realizes for the first time, Hope is making an entirely selfish decision… And it’s all about her. 

[imagine-loki]

Tear You To Pieces, Chapter 9

TITLE: Tear You To Pieces CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 9 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki was sent to make up for his deeds by helping out The Avengers at the tower. Everyone thinks he’s changed, but he is just biding his time. He manipulates and uses someone who works there, who has a crush on him, to get exactly what he wants.  RATING: M

WARNINGS FOR THIS FIC: DARK LOKI, RAPE/NON-CON, MANIPULATION, MURDER, VIOLENCE, EMOTIONAL ABUSE, KIDNAPPING

Kelly shut the curtains as soon as she got into the rather shabby B&B room. But it was the best she could afford in the meantime, she had no idea how long she was going to have to be on the run for, so didn’t want to blow all of her money too quickly.

She’d managed to budget herself to last on the run for around a year. She had to include hair dye into the monthly budget. As even though it had been two months, she had no idea if Loki was still looking for her or not, so she only went out in disguise to be on the safe side.

She was still not over what happened, what was still happening. And she knew it was all her fault, she would never be able to get over it. She had unleashed the monster, literally.

Not bothering to turn the TV on, she just got into bed and tried not to think about it all. The news was always filled with Loki now, and how he was conquering the world. Country after country was flocking to kneel under Loki’s rule. Otherwise, he was slaying every country that dared to defy him. Which soon brought them to heel, before they lost everyone.

Kelly was really jumpy, every noise right outside her room had her entire body going ridged, expecting the worst. It took her heart a while to stop racing after each noise. She knew she couldn’t carry on living like this, but she didn’t know what else to do.

Turning onto her side she curled up and cried herself to sleep, like she did every night. But her sleep was never peaceful, it was always laced with nightmares. Always of him. Most of the time, he was looming over her with her sisters’ body at his feet.

She woke up in a sweat, calling out for her sister. How she wished everything was just a nightmare, but no. She was living a nightmare.

Keeping on the move was her plan, so since she was awake anyway, even though it was only five in the morning, she decided to move on to the next place to stay. She had made it all the way up to Edinburgh by foot mainly but also a couple of bus trips. She just kept moving around from city to city, town to town. Wherever she could get to.

As Kelly made her way down the road, there was just a few people going about at that time of the morning. But she kept getting shivers down her spine, and not from the cold. It was like someone was watching her…

When she looked round over her shoulder, she caught a glimpse of a tall, black-haired man amongst a small crowd of early risers heading to work. Her heart started racing in fear, thinking it was Loki, she quickly moved on and walked as fast as she could. When she glanced back in the direction of the man, there was no sign of him anymore.

She tried to shake it off, thinking it had just been her imagination. Surely if it had been Loki, he would’ve made his presence more known.

But as she made her way further into the centre of the city, she still had a really bad feeling that she was being followed. So she rushed into the bus station and bought a ticket to head further North, maybe if she headed out of the cities and tried the quieter villages, she might be able to stay under the radar better.

Just before she was able to pay for her ticket, there was sudden screaming and panic within the station.

‘What the…’ She looked around in confusion, but then she felt pure dread run through her veins as she saw the reason for the panic and chaos.

Loki.

He had stormed into the station in his regal armour, the biggest grin formed on his face when he locked eyes on Kelly.

‘No…’ She gasped out quietly, her legs suddenly turned to jelly as she tried to run with the others that were panicking.

Loki made his way towards Kelly straight away, with large purposeful strides as he towered above everyone else that was scarpering around him in terror.

She started running for the back exit, but Loki reached out towards her and Kelly suddenly felt as if there was a collar around her neck that was suddenly pulling her backwards towards him. She brought her hands up to her neck but couldn’t feel anything there, but there was definitely something pulling her back.

She panicked and screamed as she was dragged back towards Loki, who had stopped and was just pulling her towards him. When she was within grabbing distance, the invisible collar disappeared and she felt like she could run again.

But she was within striking distance. And Loki struck like a snake, grabbing her he forced her to the nearest wall and pinned her against it, his large dominant hand wrapped around her neck firmly. Her lower lip was trembling in fear as he sneered down at her, she tried clawing at his arm but it was futile.

‘Mmmm, I finally found you.’ Loki hummed low and squeezed her neck a bit harder in warning when she continued trying to struggle.

‘Plea… please… Let me go.’ She stuttered out between trying to take big breaths, his hand controlling her breathing wasn’t making it easy to talk.

‘Oh no, my little pet. You should be begging for my forgiveness, for that little stunt of running away from me. You have no idea how much of an inconvenience it was when I came to collect you, to find you gone. Ungrateful mortal.’ He growled, squeezing her neck again for a few seconds, making her splutter.

He could see the pure fear in her eyes.

‘However.’ He purred, easing up a little on his grip he rubbed his thumb up and down the side of her neck. ‘I wouldn’t be in the position I am now if it hadn’t been for you. And whilst I should punish you for being a naughty girl and disobeying me, I will give you the benefit of the doubt. This time. Because I know you’re my good girl really, aren’t you?’

Kelly closed her eyes and tried to tune him out. But of course, that could never happen.

‘Look at me!’ He demanded and squeezed her neck again, making her eyes fly open.

‘Maybe once I get you home, you’ll be more talkative. And I shall give you your reward, and finally claim what you owe me.’ His eyes darkened and he smirked, then leaned in and kissed her on the lips, despite her trying to move her head away to no avail.

She had no choice but to endure his lips moving against hers, he was surprisingly gentle, yet there was an urgency within him too. A very deep part of her was longing at his kiss, like it was a reminder of what she thought they once had… But she remembered that had all been fake, Loki had used her.

Loki pulled back slightly, licking his lips. ‘Now come, pet. Let me show you your new home.’ He grinned wickedly and released her neck.

But before she could even think about trying to run, a collar formed around her neck. Only this time it wasn’t invisible, she could feel it too with her hands as she tried pulling it off. There was a chain leash attached to it that Loki held, so she was going nowhere.

‘Come on.’ Loki growled and tugged her along as he headed out the main entrance.

When they stepped outside, some civilians that saw Loki started kneeling for him instantly. Some ran away. But Loki didn’t care about any of them, he had what he wanted.

Kelly couldn’t stop shaking and crying as Loki slipped his arm around her waist and held her in close, then teleported them both to the airport where Loki had a jet waiting for them. He hauled Kelly onto it, she wasn’t sure why she was even trying to still get away, she knew there was no chance.

Loki had the leash vanish, but the collar remained. As soon as it was off, she ran as far back in the jet as possible and cowered down in the corner. Loki chuckled and took a seat near the front, looking very pleased with himself.

‘There is a much comfier seat down here for you, pet. It might be a bumpy ride.’ Loki called back to her as the jet started off down the runway.

But Kelly was quite happy where she was, as far away from Loki as she possibly could be between some seats. Though she knew it wouldn’t be for long, the jet was already taking off into the sky. She didn’t know exactly where home was for Loki. She really didn’t want to know.

‘You know, it has been ok since I’ve been ruling your world. Not quite as fun and exciting as I had originally hoped, but I realised it’s been because I’ve been chasing you. Now that I’ve found you, the real fun can begin.’ Loki said casually as he opened a bag of salted nuts.

Kelly shivered at his tone and words, she didn’t want to know what he meant by that.

It only took half an hour to get to their destination. But it had felt more like ten hours for Kelly, with Loki trying to make small talk the whole way there, as if nothing was wrong. As if she was there of her own accord.

‘Isn’t this a delightful sight.’ Loki chuckled, looking out of the window.

Kelly was curious as to where she was. So she slowly moved onto her knees and leaned up on one of the seats to look out the window. Her eyes widened at what she saw.

They were coming to land in New York, but it wasn’t the New York she remembered.

For starters, where The Statue Of Liberty should be, was replaced with a ten times larger statue of Loki himself. Then as they headed into the city, where the Avengers tower used to be, a new tower was built. But it was much larger too, and on the side of it was Loki’s name in bright gold letters.

‘No… No.’ She sobbed and put her hand over her mouth in horror.

[subwalls]

Tales from the SMP Presents: The Pit

Another Tales, another Kingdom Hearts comparison post! “The Other Side” is a mix between the soundtrack The Other Promise and the cinematic “Another Side, Another Story” (both of which come from Kingdom Hearts, of course), which evokes a very specific KH character that... yeah. So let’s get into it.

Karl gets stabbed by the king’s new general and finds himself back in the Inbetween. A cool new logo pops up as we enter the Inbetween, which actually is a... very typical example of a Kingdom Hearts world logo / intro card / name card? I honestly don’t know what it’s called, it doesn’t have a name, it’s just a thing that happens every time the character enters a new world.

Castle Oblivion is just one (1) example, but if you just look up “Kingdom Hearts worlds” and scroll a bit, you’ll see what I’m talking about, haha. This doesn’t really change anything, it’s just another little wink and nod to the Kingdom Hearts series.

... Except, of course, the fact that there’s a title placard for this world implies the existence of other worlds. Which we eventually find out is, in fact, true. Fun! There’s a number of associations I could make based off the aesthetic of the logo (the castle reminds me of Radiant Garden, etc) but honestly they’re not worth much without more information.

So, the Inbetween is vividly aware of Karl’s straying from “the path”. It makes a huge attempt to still be pleasant and “nice” and whatever, but we can tell quite obviously that there’s an undercurrent of threat under all those pretty quartz blocks and smiles :]

Speaking of the :] smile, the reveal of Quackity’s previous lore stream actually doesn’t push me to think that it’s directly related to him in any way. It’s not impossible that c!Quackity achieved such heights as... becoming? The Inbetween? Because he’s got reason to be invested in Karl’s powers and keeping him in line. But it’s a reach or long-term thing at best, honestly, so I’m shelving the Quackity-smile association until further evidence appears.

(I could go bonkers and say that this is the culmination of c!Quackity’s ascension after ripping Information out of Dream or even XD, but that’s well into AU territory, so it’s all just shrug emojis for now.)

Which, of course, leads to the question of who that smile actually is associated with, and I think as clear an answer as we’re going to get is... The Inbetween itself. Clearly.

There’s a lot of meaning I could take from that; is it associated with Dream or XD then? Or maybe is it tapping into Karl’s memories of c!Dream doing the :) thing and it’s appropriating that for itself? Why? To intimidate Karl into obeying it?

Mayhaps. Mayhaps!

Anyway, Karl goes up to the tree, and as he approaches, the video feed distorts as the game abruptly switches to a higher-level shader like BSL or something.

Now, I haven’t confirmed it, but the way the audio shifts makes me think it suddenly started playing backwards, too. It’s just the way it sounds; it’s got that... sucking effect that’s pretty typical of musical tracks played backwards.

Karl swims down to the hidden room, which is very dark now. There is a book that tells him to go up the ladder for a surprise.

Also, by the way, I’m back on my wither rose pot association brainrot, because I can’t help but notice that there isn’t one here. There was one in the previous Inbetween segment, but it’s gone now. Now there’s a new book with the :] smiley, which of course should set the audience on edge, since we just saw the first book use it in a... mildly threatening manner.

We know that in Dream SMP it’s a pretty common thing to use redstone as blood. Other characters have used it in bits, some more seriously than others, and I think that’s what this room is trying to emulate.

If I had to guess, I’d... hm.

A part of me wants to say that the blood is probably from the different versions of Karl wandering around. Nobody’s going to notice if a few abruptly take a swerve to bleed themselves out in a room or something, right? But that carries a lot of implications, namely that of control so perfect it borders on possession. So either the Inbetween can control Karls, or it has some other agent capable of dragging something into this chamber to bleed it all over the room.

Neither of those options are particularly nice, I’ll admit!

There’s no Kingdom Hearts associations here, by the way. Due to being so closely tied with Disney, KH is deathly allergic to portraying blood in any way lmao. Not so many messages carved into the walls.

Or painted onto the walls with blood, if that’s what that is. Color correction gets a bit odd with shaders, so I’m not saying anything for certain; the closed books don’t look enchantment-purple, for example.

What does catch my eye are the torches, which will later be the flickering lights that guide Karl to the portal. The fact that they are here makes me think that this was definitely the scene of either a battle or some other conflict between the two sides to this story (haha, get it, Another Side, Another Story, because that’s a Thing in KH—), or at least proves that an influence from The Other Side was here at some point in time.

Karl quickly gets the fuck out of there, and when he swims back to the surface the shaders/music switch back to normal.

Oh, and for all you people who like to point fingers at anything vaguely false and scream “that’s gAsLiGhTiNg!!!1!!111″ about it, here’s an actual attempt at gaslighting. Note the language used here: “Your mind seems to be playing tricks on you :]”. It’s explicitly trying to convince him not to trust his own senses and mind. It’s saying, let me think for you. And that is a very dangerous thing.

Wither rose pot exists again, yay. Definitely a Inbetween voice, this book.

More wither rose book, this time in the, uh, grand entrance hall? The lobby? Yeah.

This book basically goes on a spiel about how the Inbetween is so great for Karl (a declaration, by the way, rather than a hope) and says that he is doubting himself or being less like himself, which is odd, because what he’s really doing is doubting the Inbetween and the path it has laid out for him. In a way, by questioning the Inbetween, Karl is being truer to himself than anything else.

The malicious way this place frames its words becomes more and more obvious with each passing page; it again reminds him that it’s a place to be “feel at ease”, which is super sketch that it has to tell him outright rather than actually being that place. It continues attempting to gaslight him, telling him that his imagination is getting away from him and that he can’t trust himself or anything else but this “path”.

I’ll get back to the “path” thing in a minute, but I really want to drive home that this is the truest instance of gaslighting we’ve ever had on the Dream SMP. Nothing has ever so clearly declared that it must be trusted over the victim’s own senses, practically infantilizing the victim’s concerns and trying to make them think that their worries are just flights of fancy. Please, please keep this in mind any time you want to accuse a character of gaslighting in the future; not all psychological abuse is a form of gaslighting. Sometimes it’s just... abuse. It’s not any more or less worse than gaslighting, it’s just different.

Anyway, about the “path” that the Inbetween is so obsessed with. No idea what the fuck that’s talking about.

In Kingdom Hearts, the only paths that are really of import are is a specific character’s “road to dawn” (redemption without fully yielding his edginess, essentially) or the “paths” that characters take to traverse between different worlds. I really don’t think the Inbetween has anything to do with either of them, but I’ll leave the options there if you want to peruse the possibilities.

What’s more likely, I think, is that this is a vaguely more subtle version of control/possession. The “path” is just “whatever the Inbetween wants you to do”.

Our next book is from the other side, and is plastered nonchalantly but boldly against the wall with no flower pot or anything.

Karl picks it up, puts it in his inventory (which probably indicates that he’s keeping this particular route close to his heart, rather than whatever the Inbetween is trying to make him do), and then the video stutters and he teleports back to the main entrance.

There’s a new book. It’s spooky as fuck, and hilariously hypocritical.

The tone shift is immediate, of course, aided by the abrupt change in background music since he got teleported back here. (I can’t quite nail it down; I assume it’s a slowed KH track like the others, but it doesn’t quite ring any bells for me.) The way the Inbetween speaks through these books has changed too, though; it addresses him by name without any attempt to cover up its intentions with flowery softness.

It does a cool fun thing where it says that it knows more than Karl, and knows what’s right, and then goes on to say that those visions shouldn’t dictate his opinion on the inbetween. (I’m keeping an eye on that lowercase, by the way. Not sure if it’s a typo or intentional, since it’s still one word, but.) As though he should trust the Inbetween’s opinions of itself rather than his own brain? A’ight. Sure, Jan.

Again it tries to tell him that it’s safe here. The lying is getting more transparent now.

He puts this book back, the previous book back, and runs after a double of himself until the shaders and music glitch again.

Fun thing about shaders is that they make dark areas... much, much darker. Especially since we saw that Karl’s got night vision (the effect, for cinematic purposes) on.

The music has a few notes that again sound as though they’re being played backwards.

The book on the tree in this courtyard does not come with its own little wither rose pot, and neither does it seem to come from the Inbetween, since it’s telling him some awful things about these other versions of himself.

It confirms a few things about the mystery other selves, namely that they’re definitely condemned to walk the castle forever, but it doesn’t really tell us why this happens or why the Inbetween (probably) wants this to happen. What’s the end goal?

We’re probably a bit early in the story to figure that out, but they’re questions worth keeping in mind as this storyline progresses.

Karl gets teleported back to the main lobby, which looks very dark and spooky, though in the transition we do see a glimpse of that portal. There are torches around the wither pot book pedestal, and the audio really kicks into high gear with the creepy notes and the visuals get stretched and glitch quite a bit as he opens the book.

Funnily enough, the audio kind of reminded me of some pokemon encounter music, but I think that’s just because I’ve got those notes wired into my brain from years of playing those games. Anyway! The book tells him this is not a warning, and that they’re gonna fucking come for him to make sure he sticks with their path.

“We”.

Who is “we”? Is the Inbetween a collective? Is the Inbetween just part of a different whole? Maybe it counts all the different Karls as a part of it.

Either way, it’s creepy and threatening. Karl starts running; the screen glitches and tells him to follow the torches, which at first I was kind of leery about trusting, but the next series of words helped clear up exactly what side those words are on.

Also, you’ll notice that some other text kinda skitters across the screen before the English, like it’s getting translated. I think it’s Galactic, which is something different from the thing that Ranboo uses for Ender? I think Ranboo uses the Alien language thing or something? I’m not 100% sure on that, feel free to correct me and I’ll fix this portion.

It certainly implies that the speaker isn’t communicating in the server equivalent of “common”, however. Not sure if they’re translating into English or if Karl inherently understands it and it’s translated into English for the audience’s convenience, but either way, the other speaker might be linked to something completely different.

Karl runs on with encouragement and creepy music until he finally arrives at the portal, which is not barred off like it was last time. Thanks, whoever’s responsible for that!

The music dies for this final book.

The Inbetween’s last-ditch attempt to make him stay. It calls him silly a couple of times, and smiles at the end with a :]

Problem is, we and Karl already know that staying with the Inbetween will keep him from his friends. And the voice tells him to leave for his friends.

Karl looks around at this place that calls itself his sanctuary, and makes his decision.

He arrives at The Other Side.

The music appears to be drawn from parts of either The Other Promise or Roxas’ Theme, both of which are heavily tied to the character known as Roxas. The version that Karl uses is slower and lower, the same as with the Dearly Beloved track he uses for his Inbetween segments.

Honestly, I’m not as certain on this as I could be, because I couldn’t find the exact variation on Youtube and there are parts that could just be Emotional rather than Roxas-related, I’m not sure. I’ll probably come back and fix this if it’s untrue.

EDIT: Yeah, uh, it’s Ven’s theme, not Roxas’, but the world itself is still heavily associated with Roxas in naming themes.

For now, I’m going off the assumption that the decision to make both the name and the theme of this world relevant to Roxas is purposeful, which means I’m... going to attempt to explain who Roxas is and what his story is.

Oh boy.

To grossly oversimplify the situation, Roxas is a “part” of Sora who develops his own sense of identity, is betrayed, gets coerced into murdering his best friend, gets kidnapped, gets memory wiped, and then—when he gets his memory back and realizes he super hates his captors—is convinced by those same captors to give up his existence because he “isn’t a real person” and if he lives then Sora will never wake up. So he “dies” and becomes a part of Sora again until later.

(Sora, by the way, is asleep due to the events in Castle Oblivion, which you might recognize as That Place I Keep Associating The Inbetween With.)

He’s also a fan favorite lmao. Take from that as you will, and, I don’t know, flip through his wiki page or something. Can’t guarantee it’s all understandable though.

My point to bringing Roxas up is that his arc... kind of parallels Karl’s. He did his job working for superiors he didn’t really understand in a white castle, with the higher-ups trying to control him, until he realized he was losing his friend/s to them. At that point, he defects. I think this is the point that Karl has reached, in his own storyline. He’s pulled away from the thing that’s made itself known to him, and now he’s wandering down something that hopefully isn’t as awful as the beast he’s just left behind.

Roxas also doesn’t get his happy ending for a long, long time.

Let’s hope Karl is different.

Off the top of my head, I can tell you that the mood this world creates is very reminiscent of some areas that the Kingdom Hearts games explore in 0.2 (yes, zero point two, that is the number of that game. This fucking series, man), specifically Castle Town, in which the player character has to smack a bunch of clock gears to make time go backwards in order to proceed, which is fun. But no exact inspirations come to mind the same way that Castle Oblivion did for the Inbetween.

Until we get a better look at the interiors, I’m going to gently claim that this build is more original and doesn’t take inspiration quite as directly from a Kingdom Hearts source, so there might not be an exact parallel. There isn’t a black castle in Kingdom Hearts that I can think of, honestly.

Also, I will say that I’m going to take this episode as confirmation that the wither roses are associated with the Inbetween and appear next to books that come from / are related to the Inbetween, especially since The Other Side associates itself with a completely different flower: the white tulip.

Anyway, The Other Side tells him he’s home, and that they’ll explore more soon.

This... eerily parallels the Inbetween, which told him that he’s safe, and has lots to explore.

I can’t say that I immediately trust The Other Side, but neither can I say that I inherently distrusted it the same way I did with the Inbetween. We’re going to have to wait and see how this place behaves in future episodes to get a good grasp of it. Who built these places? Are they alive, and writing the books, or is there a mastermind behind them? We still don’t have a lot of the answers, but that’s okay.

For now, I’m content to know that Karl is away from the more obvious perils of the Inbetween.

It could still be a trap, but for now, it’s a refuge.

[thedragonemperess]

I Saved Your Life! - Superhero Kaz/Bionic Chase AU

Fandom(s): Lab Rats/Mighty Med

Pairing(s): Kase/Chaz

Rating: G

Warnings: Slight language

Tags: @starspangleddummy @tronagon

Notes: Based off of these two posts by @starspangleddummy

       “That was a great job, guys,” Chase said to his team as they exited the hydro-loop, dropping a duffel bag with supplies.

       They had just gotten back from a mission. Another one of Mr. Davenport’s devices had become unstable and they were sent in to fix it. Specifically, Davenport Industries was messing with a new form of renewable energy, but they overdid it. The workers had to be rushed out, but some of them were blocked in, not to mention the fact that the device handling it was gaining more energy each second, getting ready to explode if nothing was done. After rescuing everyone, they rushed to the main location of the warehouse and found some more people hiding. Amy and Micheal (who could lace their bodies in metal) took the remaining three scientists and hid them in front of them, while Teresa used her force fields to surround the area. Chase used his molecular kinesis to push it through the roof and into the water nearby, so that it wouldn’t cause as much damage.

       “Thanks, Chase, but we owe it to our Mission Leader,” Teresa said, playfully punching him in the shoulder.

       Chase shook his head. “As nice as that compliment is, you were the one that came up with how to contain the energy and Micheal and Amy’s quick thinking protected the people working there. I may have got us in, but you guys deserve just as much credit as I do.”

       “Yeah, what he said. Now can we please go to our capsules? I would really like to shower after all of this,” Micheal asked.

       “Yeah, that would be nice. Then hopefully we could relax a bit. I mean, we’ve had missions all week,” Amy added

       Chase nodded at them. “Go ahead. I need to talk to Mr. Davenport real quick, but I’ll be close behind.”

The others nodded at him in return before jogging down the hall.

       Chase watched them until they were out of ear shot, and then walked over to the cyber desk in order to call Donald, who was at home with Tasha and Naomi at the moment. He was about to press call when another mission alert came up. He quickly dismissed the alarm and read into it.

Super villain by the name of Professor Slime running rampant in Philadelphia. Urgent.

       Chase weighed his options. He could take his team with him, who is in desperate need of a break, or go alone and fight some guy with a very terrible code name. He laughed to himself at it. Anyone with that silly of a name must be fake news. He came to the conclusion that it was either a false alarm or the people in the area were overreacting.

       He heard footsteps coming from behind him. He turned around to find his team on their way over.

       “What was the mission alert for?” Teresa asked, exhausted.

       “Oh, it was nothing. It was a false alarm. Someone must have still had a business card from when Leo started advertising us. It was just some cat stuck in a tree. I called the fire department for her, it’s nothing to worry about,” Chase lied, brushing off any concern they might have had.

The others gave a small cheer.

       “Yessss! I can finally finish reading my book then!”

       “You do that, I’m going to sleep.”

       “If you need me, I’ll be out on the beach.”

       Once they turned around, Chase looked back to the cyber desk and hit one of the buttons, saying that someone’s on the way. He runs back to the hydra loop, grabbing the duffel bag on his way. He sits down and looks through it, grabbing a teleporter that he and Douglas had made a year ago. The doors close and he zips back to the mainland. He puts in the coordinates, and as soon as he exits the hydro-loop again, he disappears.

_____________________________________________

Chase flew into the concrete wall, sliding to the floor. Professor Slime walked up to him slowly.

       “The fact that you ever thought you could defeat me is amusing, and then the fact that you actually tried is even more so, but sadly, I’m going to have to kill you now,” he proclaimed. He raised a ray gun and aimed it at Chase, looking down on him.

       “Not on my watch!!” a new voice came from the side. Chase looked over slightly, seeing a blur of orange, black, and brown fly by, tackling Professor Slime.

       The blur was on top of him, holding him down to the road. “Hey! I got him! I actually got him!”

       “Why don’t you try again?” Professor Slime exhorted, dissolving into slime and slithering away.

       “What the hell--?”

       Professor Slime morphed back into a human behind him, and kicked the blur down to the ground.

       “I guess I’m going to have to kill you too, then!”

       The gun powered up, but a blast of ice knocked it out of his hand, its ray hitting a mailbox while being thrown against the wall by Chase. Professor Slime looked over to the person that owned the cryo blast with a scowl.

       “Who are you people, and where are you coming from?!”

       The other boy moved his hands to his hips and looked off into the distance, attempting to look heroic.

       “The name’s Cold Front, and what you’re doing, isn’t very ice.”

       “Really dude?” the blur asked?

       Cold Front looked at him and back at Professor Slime, changing his pose to a fighting stance, his expression changing to a more serious one.

       “Come at me, Archie.”

      Professor Slime, or Archie, ran at Cold Front, who was barely just barely able to dodge him. Professor Slime stretched his arm, and grabbed him, lifting him up. The blur shot a blast of fire at his arm, melting the slime off of him. Cold Front dropped to the floor, falling forward onto his knees. Professor slime ran to the parts of him that melted off and tried to gather it back into his body.

       “Cold Front! Blast him! Now!”

       Cold Front did a double take, but reached his left arm out and blasted him, getting up as he did so. Professor Slime’s form slowly froze, until he was completely covered in ice. Once done, Cold Front turned to the blur and put his hand in the air.

       “Up top, Pyre!”

       The blur, now known as Pyre, high-fived him. “Heck yeah, buddy!”

       Chase looked over to the ray gun, still next to him, and grabbed, weakly pointing it at the two of them. “Who-who are you?! And how were you able to….well, that!” he gestured to Professor Slime, whose frozen body was hunched over on the floor.

Pyre walked up to him and stuck out his hand. “Dude, relax, we’re just here to help.”

       Chase shook his head frantically. “But what you just did was impossible! Are you bionic? Are….are you alien? Are you one of those superheroes? Even if you were any of those, what you just did goes against all laws of science! Am I dreaming? What just happened? For real?”

       Pyre rolled his eyes. “You got your ass handed to you. I saved your life!” A loud coughing noise came from behind him, making Pyre roll his eyes again. “Okay, we saved your life.”

       Chase finally looked up at Pyre and froze. “Oh god he’s cute. What do I say, now? Do boys like confidence? Yeah, be confident!” he thought to himself.

       “Well, I didn’t need your help.”

       “Not that confident!”

       “Sorry for trying to help someone in trouble, then. Jeez,” Pyre stated, retracting his hands and turning around to head to Cold Front.

       Chase panicked. “Wait!” He pushed himself up, leaning back against the wall.

       Pyre turned back around. “What is it? I thought you didn’t need our help, and we got other things to do.”

       “I, uh,...look. What I said came out wrong. I just panicked. Thank you, Pyre, was it?”

       “Yeah, Pyre. And no problem.” He started to turn again, but Chase stopped him.

       “Wait! Again. Sorry, but can I keep this? To study? I don’t know if you know who I am, but, uh, I’m Chase Davenport.”

       Pyre’s face seemed to light up in awe and realization. “Oh! Yeah, sure! Umm, we’ve met before! At the island. Remember the whole thing with the Incapacitator? I was the better looking Frank.”

       (“Hey! I can hear you, y’know!”)

      “But if that was you, how were you able to do all of,” Chase gestures to Professor Slime, again, “that?”

       “It’s a long story that I will make sure to tell you some other time. But I have to go bring Archie, over there, to jail. So keep the ray gun, erase anyone who saw me and Cold Front’s memory, and I’ll see you around.” Pyre turned around completely, and jogged over to Cold Front.

       “Ready?”

       “Ready.”

       “Wait, wha--”

       Chase was cut off with a flash of light. When he looked over to where Pyre, Cold Front, and Professor Slime once were, there was nothing. He looked around him to see if they were anywhere close by, but when they were nowhere to be seen, he scanned the area for his duffel bag. After locating it, he walked over to it and took out the Neural Scrambler. Doing what he was asked too, he talked to anyone who saw the battle and erased their memory of it, just as confused as they were.

[characcoon]

The Way of Business

Words: 2143

Summary: How Donnie first met Charles. 

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

"I'm trying my best to not question, but… "Cat claws, be sure they fell naturally" and he wrote the last word with capital bold letters." Donnie pokes the shopping list with his finger "And my favorite, "Coffee beans (digested)", which, by other terms, means coffee that has been shat."

"Keep not questioning." April says, hands on her pockets "It's witchy, magic stuff. We already went through this, Dee. Sometimes it doesn't make sense and that's fine."

"I'm aware. But it's not everyday you have poop coffee on your grocery list. What's he even going to do with these?"

"I don't think that anything Barry does should be our business."

April and Donnie walk around a busy street in the shopping district of the Hidden City, trying to identify the things on Draxum's list only by looking at the shops and vending stands, since the old sheep Yokai didn't think of writing where exactly to find the stuff.

"Maybe it's a cake." Donnie mumbles, stopping by a counter and quickly examining some items "Mikey's been teaching him some more recipies, he might be returning the favor by making Yokai food."

"Pooped coffee cat claws cake! Yummy." April gags, then points at a jar filled with sparkly deep blue glitter labelled mermaid bone powder "I think we need that one."

They continue shopping for another 20 minutes until they reach a part of the district that is definitely more shady and quiet. Sales are made among whispers and the shops have much less products on display, everything of importance stocked in the back. 

As April intimidates a merchant to lower the price of the cat claws, Donnie spots something familiar in a corner and curiously turns around to look. It's one of Big Mama's guards, but not just any guard; it's that specific one that seems to be on a higher rank, that was at the scene when the spider Yokai first took the Shredder to make him her champion. Donnie hums, watching as the guard dives between two stores and vanishes into another street.

"Got it for half the price." April comes to him, smiling proudly and shaking a tiny bottle filled with cat claws, then notices Donnie isn't paying attention "Earth to Donnie?"

"Wanna put some noses where they don't belong?" He sends her a trickster smile, bumping his fingers together.

"That depends, are you going to explode the whole street again?"

"Scoff!" the turtle scoffs "I saw one of Big Mama's guards going that way."

"And we need to go after them because…"

"Because it's her personal guard. The personal, stealthy, silent guard. The guard she sends to kill people without leaving a trace. The guard that probably has a cool name that makes people shiver in fear upon hearing it. The guard I just saw going that way."

April puffs her cheeks and blows out air in sections, a thoughtful expression on her face. Then she sighs, puts the bottle on Donnie's hand and starts walking.

"Alright, let's seek trouble, why not."

Donnie silently celebrates and dashes across the street, April right on his tail, following the same path of the guard. They go between the stores and find themselves in a smaller street with much less stores that are much more shady, to the point of being just holes between the brick walls. They reach the end of the street, turn to the only side available into another short road that hits a dead end. The guard is on that far end, with their back to the two curious teens who are slowly and quietly getting closer by using the little things around that can be used as barricades.

“We could make business faster if you tell me what you want straight up, I don’t do well with riddles.”

Donnie peaks behind a depression in the wall he and April are hiding in and notices a big trashcan shoved inside the wall with some christmas lights dangling from the sides and some mechanisms bending the lid and forming a roof. The guard is in front of whoever’s speaking, neither Donnie or April can see who.

“Or you could send the Great Milf here personally! Would love to catch up with her, if you know what I mean.”

Donnie gags in silence.

“She wants the Barnacle.” the guard speaks, voice muffled and distorted.

“The Barnacle! Wow! And why would I have that, exactly?”

“You were seen with it, at the docks. Took the package from Captain Piel.”

“Stupid lump of rotten flesh ratted me out, huh.” the other mumbles and sighs “Alright, I’ll get it, gimme a minute.”

April and Donnie glance at each as they hear ruffling and some crashing, the immovable form of the guard giving no indication of noticing the eavesdropping happening behind them.

“Is she gonna pay me at least?” the guard doesn’t answer “Y’know, in my land we have this saying. Quem cala consente. It means “silence means yes”, so I’m expecting some good cash unless you say words. No? Nothing? Talking to a door is funnier than talking to you.”

“The Barnacle, Charles.”

With a flicker of their wrist, a kunai appears between the fingers of the guard. Donnie instinctively moves his arm to his back, near his staff, and April gets into a better position to either fight or run.

“Is that handle made of Calligraphy Stone?” the merchant, possibly named Charles, speaks with excitement “Oh, damn, how much do you want for that?”

“Not for sale.”

“Oh, c’mon, it’s Calligraphy Stone!”

“Not for sale.”

“You’re boring. Y’know that? Boring. Wanna know what’s for sale? The Barnacle inside this box, this pretty doormat I made this morning and this GUN!”

A loud bang can be heard and the guard violently flies backwards, a blast of light illuminating the whole street. The guard smacks hard on the floor, smoke coming out of their chest, unmoving. Charles can now be seen; it’s a raccoon, very short, doesn’t go past Donnie’s knees. His tail is pink and orange, he wears duffle bags strapped to both sides of his hips, metal bracelets taking both his entire forearms and a gray sleeveless hoodie. On his face, big steampunk goggles and a wide, manic grin. On his hands, a gun definitely made out of garbage and nonsense, reminiscent of a grenade launcher, bigger than his whole body.

“I lied! The gun is not for sale!” he laughs and points the gun to the guard again “Now scram before I blast you into pieces!”

April notices the guard starting to move first, but doesn’t have time to warn everyone; they’re up and running in a second, blade slicing where Charles’ standing. The raccoon hops above the slash, smacks the guard in the head with the gun and drops it, then dashes towards the exit, but takes a sharp turn and bumps into the two teens. Before any of them can make any noise, he removes a disk from one of his bags, puts it on the floor and clicks. A translucent green wall blinks for a second before going orange. Donnie opens his mouth to speak, but the raccoon turns and shushes him so hard he even forgets what he was going to say. April goes equally quiet.

The guard finds his footing again after the blow and walks a few quick steps to the exit of the road, stopping right in front of the hideout of the other three. Charles silently clicks on his bracelets and long, sharp claws form as gauntlets on his hands and he gets into position, fur standing up, body tense and ready. Donnie’s breath gets caught on his throat when the guard swiftly turns their head and locks eyes with him, even knowing that the disk on the ground is some sort of cloaking tech making them all invisible.

The guard stands down, turns to the end of the road and walks back to the trashcan. They’re after the Barnacle, after all. Before they can reach it, however, the raccoon takes a small switch from his pocket and clicks on a button. The lid of the trashcan slaps close with a car alarm noise and the entire thing, wall included, poofs out of existence.

The road, not a dead end anymore, extends back to the one Donnie and April were previously on. Passersby and merchants turn to look at the wall that vanished and the guard just standing there, hand stretched to grasp nothing. Their stance slowly becomes neutral and it takes another minute for them to go away as a blur of movement.

Only then Charles snorts, so sudden and loud that Donnie jumps away from him.

“Idiot.” he continues laughing, disengaging his gauntlets and the cloaking device.

“That was so cool!” April speaks up “You played them so hard!”

“Yeah, I-” his ears go up and he flinches, remembering there were other people there too. “GUN!”

He turns around with two properly sized guns on each hand, pointing one to each of them. Donnie shows his hands and April smiles.

“You’re a human.” he shakes a gun at April “The hell you doing down here?”

“Shopping.”

“And the mecha-frog?”

“Frog?!” Donnie makes an offended expression and scoffs “Frog!”

“Are you a pokemon, only speaks your own name?”

“Wh- no! I’m a turtle!”

“Be nice, Dee. This dude’s super cool. And has a gun pointed at your face.”

“You should listen to the lady, Dee.”

“My name is Donnie.”

“Okay, Donnie Dee.” Charles opens his hands and his guns turn into liquid metal that surround his arms and turn back into being bracelets “I gotta go now. See ya around.”

He pulls the same switch he used to make the wall disappear and opens a side panel.

“Wait, you sell stuff, don’t you?” April takes Draxum’s list from Donnie “Do you have crystallized coral?”

“I do, yeah. But the shop’s all the way up to the surface now, so you should finish everything you have to do down here first. Y’know, time efficiency.”

“We are done here, right?” Donnie asks and analyzes the list “If you have the coral, digested coffee beans and petrified wood. Did we get the owl feathers?”

“We did.” April answers.

“Then.” he turns to the raccoon “Do you have those other three items?”

“100%.” Charles smiles “Hold onto me and we can warp there, pronto.”

Charles extends one hand to them and they grab one finger each, April making a squeaky noise. He clicks on his switch and they all teleport away.

Donnie recognizes the street they appear on, it’s not too far from the Lair. The trashcan store shoved into the wall is there, creating another dead end that he’s sure didn’t exist before. Charles rushes to it, opens the lid and jumps inside, sighing in relief.

“Alright, let’s get to business. Coral, wood, coffee. Talking about coffee, would you like some to drink? I always have one jar ready.”

“It’s not digested, right?” Donnie makes a face.

“No, it’s black coffee. From the store. Completely normal, I assure you.”

Donnie asks for a cup and the raccoon serves him, then asks which street they’re on. The turtle answers, gets a thanks and watches as the small merchant goes around opening drawers and boxes.

“What’s the Barnacle?” Donnie asks “And why would Big Mama want it?”

“It’s an invisible creature.” Charles answers, putting one big box with crystal coral by the counter “A plague. Sticks to the boats and sucks out life force to grow bigger. When a ghost ship is found and they can’t find out why everyone’s dead, they blame the Barnacle. 80% of the time they’re right.” another box, with petrified wood balls “And I think you can guess why Big Mama wants it. The damn thing might have a preference for boats, but it can stick to any wood structure.”

And finally, a bag of digested coffee beans.

“Pick as many of these as you need.” he points to the coral and wood “Only have this bag of coffee for sale. Stupid spider shut down more of my contacts.”

“You two seem to have some history” April starts to collect some wood balls.

“Oh, dear, if only you knew.” the raccoon laughs “You gotta keep a hold of the competition. It’s how business go.”

After taking the necessary quantity and paying, they say their farewells. Charles slides two business cards to them before they leave.

Quinquilharias, the card says, with a resume of the services and products in the back of it. Donnie hums as he reads it, considering returning more times soon, since it’s so close to the Lair and he’s the most charismatic merchant he’s ever met. And his coffee is decent enough.

And of course, he would be lying if he says he’s not curious about what’s his deal with Big Mama.

[riversofmars]

Prompt? 13's companions having various run-ins with River and eventually 13 finds out?

Hi all! I decided to use this brilliant prompt for the next part of the “Big, Vast, Complicated and Ridiculous“ Series. I didn’t do various run-ins as it would have turned into a whole thing of its own but Yaz is about to meet the Doctor’s wife ;D Enjoy! <3

Rating: G

Word Count: 2700

Read on AO3 or below

Chapter 6: Sheffield

Yaz watched as the TARDIS dematerialised and she felt her heart sink. She didn’t want the Doctor to go off again, for fear of her not returning but she knew she had to trust her. If there was something the Doctor had to do for herself before setting off on their travels again, she had to give her the time and space to do it.

Yaz checked the time on her phone as she made her way back to her apartment block. One hour. Plenty of time to pack a bag and grab a bite to eat before the Doctor would return - hopefully on time. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn’t even notice the woman appearing out of thin air just behind her.

“Excuse me!“ The woman called out to Yaz while trying to get her bearings.

“Sorry?“ Yaz looked around surprised.

“What year is this?“ The woman asked as she hurriedly stuffed something into her coat pocket that Yaz couldn’t quite make out.

“What?“ Yaz frowned, confused by the question.

“The year, dear, I haven’t got all day.“ The woman retorted as she threw up the hood of her coat, covering an impressive amount of golden curls.

“2021…“ Yaz answered slowly, wondering what might have prompted the strange question.

“Right, okay, that checks out, the date too…“ She pulled the device back out of her pocket and checked something on the dial. Yaz frowned at the strange item of technology.

“What’s that…“ Yaz asked slowly, growing suspicious. All this time travelling with the Doctor and her time researching the Daleks had made her weary of strange technology.

“Never mind, it’s bloody broken anyway. One way trip…“ The woman huffed as she examined the device critically. “Should have taken Dorium up on his offer… next time.“ She was talking to herself more than anything else. “These were the right coordinates, am I late or early? Where is he?“

“I’ve never seen a device like that.“ Yaz took a step closer, trying to get a better look but the woman seemed to guess her intentions. She stuff the piece of kit back into her pocket.  

“Never mind, have a good night.“ She pulled her hood further into her face and started walking down the road in the opposite direction of where Yaz should be going. Going with her gut instinct, Yaz threw caution to the wind and followed after her.  

“Are you looking for something, or someone?“ She called out trying to get her attention.

“You’re awfully curious.“ The woman carried on walking.

“You seem lost is all, you’re not from round here, are you? That’s a London accent, is it?“ Yaz caught up and fell into step with her.

“Oh darling, you have no idea just how much I’m not from around here.“ The woman chuckled, clearly amused.

“Maybe I do. Do you have something to do with the Daleks by any chance?“ It was a bold move but Yaz sensed that something was off about her. That technology didn’t look contemporary, it reminded her of the vortex manipulator they had seen on the man in Alabama, only much more beat up and rudimentary. With the Daleks just defeated, the appearance of someone who carried alien tech and asked about the year was curious to say the least.

“Daleks?“ The woman stopped, surprised. “Here? When?“ She looked around.

“How did you not see them? They’re still putting out the fires.“ Yaz retorted bewildered but her suspicion was confirmed. This woman was not from around here and knew more than she was letting on. The only way she didn’t know about the Daleks was if she had arrived in this time period after it had happened. She had to be a time traveller, Yaz was sure of it.

“Must have arrived late then. Damn.“ The mystery woman huffed and pulled the device back out of her pocket. “And this thing doesn’t have another jump in it…“ She sighed exasperated as she wiggle some cables and one broke out of its fixture. “Hang on…“ She looked up to Yaz as if something had only just occurred to her. She narrowed her eyes, looking the girl up and down, trying to get the measure of her.

“What?“ Yaz asked and instinctively took a little step back, feeling nervous.

“How do you know who the Daleks are? Who are you here with?“ The woman asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…“ Yaz retorted taking another step back. She suddenly realised that she had absolutely no reason to trust this woman, she had no back up with the Doctor being away and this could turn into a dangerous situation very quickly.

“Yes you do.“ The woman hummed knowingly but she didn’t get the opportunity to carry on. Suddenly, the area around them was flooded with light from something high up above. A voice, amplified by what felt like hundreds of loud speakers thundered:

“Attention population, there is a dangerous fugitive at large in your area, please remain in your habitats while the situation is being dealt with.“

“Oh come on, give me a break.“ The woman frowned, clearly terribly annoyed.

“What now?“ Yaz looked up towards the sky but the light was so blinding that she couldn’t make anything out.

“Sorry, lovely, you’re coming with me.“ The woman stepped closer and Yaz froze when she realised  it was to cover the gun she was holding to her side.

“They’re looking for you, aren’t they.“ Yaz realised, trying to keep her voice steady and not let on how anxious she was all of a sudden with a blaster pressed to her ribs.

“Possibly.“ The woman hummed and pulled her along, off the main road into an alley. It was just in time too as suddenly, a troop of what appeared to be law enforcement, teleported onto the high street.

“They’re aliens.“ Yaz couldn’t help but point out. There were humanoid but definitely not human. They were also carrying deadly looking guns. Who was this woman to warrant a show of force like this? It was incredibly disconcerting. Yaz knew better than to struggle as they hid around a corner.

“You're not surprised as a 21st century girl should be, I knew you know more than you’re letting on.“ The woman observed. “So where is he?“

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.“ Yaz retorted. She had no idea who she was searching for and it wasn’t like she was giving her any clues.

“Dr. Song, we have located your life signs, surrender now.“ One of the soldiers barked down the road towards them.

“Are you a doctor or a criminal?“ Yaz asked looking to Dr. Song who peered down the road seemingly more annoyed than worried. Yaz, however, was getting very anxious about the whole situation, her eyes falling onto the gun in the other woman’s hand. She had to get away from her, she was clearly dangerous. She quickly pulled her phone from her pocket and sent a very simple, quick text: Help. She managed to put her phone back just in time before Dr. Song turned back around to answer her question:

“Are those things mutually exclusive?“ She chuckled before addressing her actual problem: “They must be tracking my bio signature. That’s why I need better time travel than a few circuits tied together with a shoe lace…“

“What are you doing here?“ Yaz was starting to relax a little as she seemed to have no intention of actually shooting her. Just yet, anyway.

“Running from the authorities and looking for my husband. Those things usually go together.“ The woman explained. “Which brings me back to my original question, where is the Doctor?“

“The Doctor?“ Yaz echoed, stunned. This couldn’t be a coincidence but it made absolutely no sense to her.

“Don’t play dumb, how else would you know about the Daleks and not bat an eyelid at aliens on the streets of Sheffield? You know the Doctor, maybe you’re even travelling with him. This was meant to be an intersection of our timelines. So either I’m late, he’s gone already and left you behind or I’m early and he’s going to be picking you up.“ Dr. Song very cleverly concluded and Yaz couldn’t come up with a credible lie.

“How do you know the Doctor?“ Yaz asked, eying up the gun still pointed at her. “You’re quite clearly a criminal.“

“Criminal is a strong word.“ The other woman chuckled in amusement.

“Was it the Doctor that brought you to justice and now you’re looking for revenge? Cause there is no way I will…“ Yaz started but was interrupted:

“Dr. Song, step away from the human.“

“Ah, hello.“ Dr. Song sighed, looking to the soldiers advancing towards them and before Yaz could do anything, she pulled her in front of her, wrapping her arm around her shoulder, gun pressed against her lower back. Yaz’s breath caught, her heart racing, this was not turning out the way she had hoped. This would be a brilliant time for the Doctor to turn up.

“You are surrounded Dr. Song. Let go of the human.“ One of the soldiers barked.  

“But why? This is a Level 5 World, you can’t just go around endangering its population with your little witch hunt, I’d be very careful.“ Dr. Song smirked.

“What are you doing?“ Yaz tried her best to keep the panic out of her voice.

“Using you as a human shield while I try to come up with a plan, I thought that was obvious.“ The woman retorted as she stared down the advancing soldiers.

“Do not resist. Your sentence will be extended.“ One of the soldiers demanded.

“Ah one life sentence more or less doesn’t really matter by this point.“ Dr. Song shot back as she looked around for a way out.

“Release the human!“ The soldier shouted again.

“But we’re becoming fast friends.“ Dr. Song grinned, taking the situation far less serious than Yaz would have expected. The tense stand off was interrupted when suddenly, the TARDIS started materialising at the top of the road. Yaz laughed in relief and to her surprise, the woman let her go, seemingly relieved as well.

“Doctor.“ Dr. Song grinned turning towards the TARDIS. She was caught completely off guard when Yaz took the opportunity to punch her in the face and knock the blaster from her hand. “Ouch. Now that’s just…“ She stumbled and the soldiers were on her in a flash.

“Dr. Song, you’re under arrest and will be returned to the Stormcage facility.“ Two soldiers grabbed her arms while a third used handcuffs to fasten her hands behind her back.

“Come on, just let me see my husband…“ Dr. Song groaned in annoyance looking to the TARDIS.

“Your husband?“ Yaz echoed as suddenly the pieces were falling into place. It was the Doctor she was looking for assuming she was still a man as she had been. Yaz’s head was spinning as the TARDIS’s door opened and the Doctor rushed outside. She must have received her text.

“Doctor?“ Dr. Song stared at her, bewildered and the Doctor stared back, trying to grasp the situation.

“River?“ She retorted, dumbstruck.

“Doctor?“ Yaz looked to her friend, utterly confused.

“Yaz?“ The Doctor looked to Yaz for an explanation as to what was going on. Before she could ask any questions, the soldiers teleported away, taking River with them. “So uh… what happened?“ She asked slowly as Yaz was clearly still in shock.

“What happened? What happened is that some alien police just came to collect this woman, who seems to be a time traveller, a known criminal and your wife?!“ Yaz burst out, unsure which bit of information was the most important.

“Yeah, I sort of got that bit…“ The Doctor smiled apologetically as she put her arm around Yaz and gently manoeuvred her towards the TARDIS.

“She just put a gun to my head!“ Yaz snapped, annoyed at how unbothered her friend seemed about the whole thing.

“She has a habit of doing that.“ The Doctor closed the TARDIS door behind them. “She wouldn’t actually have hurt you… I don’t think…“

“So it’s true? You know her?!“ Yaz turned towards her, putting her hands on her hips, demanding an explanation. “Who is she?“

“Professor - no more likely Doctor at this point - River Song.“ The Doctor answered slowly.

“I got the name, who is she?“ Yaz threw her hands up.

“My wife, obviously.“ The Doctor gave an awkward smile and scratched the back of her head. “It’s complicated, people usually need a flow chart…“

“You’re married to a criminal?“ Up until that moment, Yaz had expected her to deny it, now she was dumbfounded.

“Sort of criminal… not really. Well, she got put in prison for my murder which obviously wasn’t very successful. But that’s not to say that she’s not a criminal. She’s a very prolific assassin, occasional mercenary… well, she likes nice things and it pays well…“ The Doctor went off on a tangent.

“I don’t believe this.“ Yaz shook her head to herself, trying to wrap her head around the whole thing. “Why did you never tell us?“ That question bothered her more than the seemingly checkered history the Doctor’s wife appeared to have with the law.

“Like I said, it’s complicated.“ The Doctor sighed, without meeting her friend’s eyes. How was she supposed to explain the constant pain she felt at her wife’s absence? How talking about her only made her think more about where she had ended up and how she hadn’t been able to save her. The Doctor tuned to the controls of the TARDIS to distract herself. “Silly woman, probably just broken out of Stormcage… I should really go and visit her there, what if this was the first time she met this version of me? I got to tell her not to tell me… why does this keep happening?“ She mumbled to herself, annoyed.

“You’re making even less sense than usual.“ Yaz sighed, deciding to let the matter go for the time being, hoping the Doctor would tell her more in her own time.

“River and me, we meet out of order and… well I just recently found out that she’s had encounters with this version of me that I never knew about and it’s even more mixed up then usual, I need to make sure I keep the causality in tact…“ The Doctor tried to explain, as Yaz stepped up to the console as well.

“When you say recently… Where have you been? What was it you had to do before we could go travelling?“ Yaz asked, sensing there was a connection there.

“I just… had to work some things out for myself for a little bit. I was feeling really lost…“ The Doctor revealed without looking up from the controls.

“Feel any better now?“ Yaz asked and the Doctor chuckled.

“Maybe a little.“ She admitted, running through her recent encounters with River in her mind. Particularly seeing her at Luna University had helped. She felt a little bit more like herself now.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot, me and her.“ Yaz sighed. Surely, there was much more to River Song than she had seen in their brief encounter. If she was the Doctor’s wife, she had to be very special indeed. Trust the Doctor to marry someone who was locked up for murdering them…

“I’m going to make her apologies to you for that.“ The Doctor said and Yaz laughed:

“She doesn’t seem like the kind of person you could make do anything.“

“No, I really can’t… I’ll try… But I really need to find her at the right point in time to tell her to keep this secret…“ She worked the controls wondering where in her time at Stormcage River was just then.

“So, are you going to tell me a little more about her before we go?“ Yaz asked with a smile, it wasn’t every day you found out your friend was married. “You said it’s complicated. Where is she from? How did you meet? Who kissed whom first?“

“Oh, not again…“ The Doctor groaned as the TARDIS jumped into action on its own accord before she could set coordinates or address Yaz’s questions.

[marlynnofmany]

Accidentally Human, Chapter 26

Time to meet the new friends, and all that that entails!

First chapter Previous chapter Next chapter The latest chapter is already up on Patreon!  

~~~

Chapter 26 1852 words

“Who’s that?” Twig peered over Windmane’s shoulder as the strange human walked out of the darkness. Her clothes were flowy and pale green, her hair was flowy and pale yellow, and there was no way she had been there when they’d arrived.

“I’m a friend,” she said. “Or an enemy of an enemy, which amounts to the same thing.”

Beak stepped in front of the group, arms bent like she was flaring feathers she didn’t have. “Explain why we should trust you.”

The woman held her position a few lengths away. “I’d be happy to give you details in private. There are certainly listening spells at work here, and it wouldn’t do to give our common enemies more information than they already have.”

Twig tried to figure it out. “Did they steal your shape too?”

Beak hissed at him to be quiet. Windmane moved to cover his mouth, but he ducked her hands. Why did everyone keep doing that?

“No,” said the human. “But they have committed other offenses. Come walk with me. I’ll say more once we’re past the property line.” She waved a silk-clad arm for them to follow, and strolled toward the distant road. The trees on either side of the mage-lit path were very dark.

Beak, Windmane, and Stomp all took a moment to stare at each other before moving after her. Twig wondered if he should get off Windmane’s flying carpet, but she hadn’t suggested it, and he wanted to focus on the magic anyway.

Magic. Oh, how he’d missed it. But it was wrong, not responding to his thoughts the way it should. Clearly he needed to practice.

The blue lines that glowed through his sleeves when he tried to fly would take some getting used to, but at least it was some sort of glowing. Twig decided to look on the bright side. He lifted off carefully, awkwardly, overjoyed and frustrated in equal measures as his feet went skyward before the rest of him.

“Nope!” Windmane said, grabbing his wrist. “Don’t you dare! No getting lost in the sky! You can wait to mess with that until we’re somewhere safe!”

Twig pouted but didn’t argue. He collapsed back onto the carpet in a pile of limbs that nearly unbalanced it for a moment. Stomp put her hands out to catch him. It was fine. Everything was fine.

He sat upright in a huff, and waited for the carpet to make its snail-winged way to wherever they were going.

After a few seconds he realized he could sort of … fondle the magic without actually flying, get a feel for it. Gnaw on the shape of it like a child fresh from the cocoon. He had faint memories from when he was just learning to hover, and this felt similar. His arms still glowed, but Windmane didn’t notice, and Stomp only gave him a stern look. Twig smiled innocently and gazed into the distance, slowly flapping his hands.

It didn’t take that long to get to the road after all.

Metal gates swung open to let them out, then clanged shut in a way that seemed judgmental. Twig was looking for eyes when the human introduced herself.

“I’m Lanya Ticatite,” she said. “Trusted associate in the commoner faction, doing my part to help defeat those nobles to the coronation.” She pointed sharply toward the estate they’d just left. “I was keeping an eye on one of them, and I’ve used my only teleportation-chasing charm to follow you lot. I suspect that wasn’t wasted. Who are you?”

When none of the others spoke first, Twig said, “We’re the ones they turned human. Can you help get our shapes back? Oh, and our dragons? The unicorns can probably handle themselves.”

“I would like to,” Lanya said. “Why did they turn you human?”

Windmane threw her arms in the air. “We don’t know! They wanted our shapes for something! That one guy seemed to just want to show off!”

Lanya pointed over her shoulder. “The minotaur?”

Stomp crossed her arms with a snort. “Yes. The minotaur.”

“He stole your shape, didn’t he?”

Another snort. “Yes.”

“And what were the rest of you before?”

“I’m a pixie!” Twig volunteered. Beak and Windmane chimed in to explain everything, with Beak taking the lead in making up for the lack of Razorscale’s grumpiness.

“…Now here we are without any of them, with nothing to go on but rumors and rage, so yes, any ideas from your end would be just grand.” She scratched the pavement with slippered feet, a movement that would have looked better with talons.

“You definitely need to meet some people,” Lanya said. “Let me call for someone to meet us with a carriage so we don’t have to walk all the way there. Unless you have a faster way of traveling?”

Twig opened his mouth to suggest the unicorns’ glow-bubble, then remembered they were gone.

“We do have some pixie dust left,” Beak admitted. “But would that attract the wrong kind of attention here?”

“Yes, I’m afraid it would. Just a moment.” Lanya pulled a polished stone from her pocket and pressed several of the runes carved into it. They glowed blue where she’d touched them. After a moment, a voice spoke from it.

Twig leaned forward to hear better, but the human kept her conversation hushed and hurried. All Twig heard was a general sort of “important people” “please come get us” and “long story.” Twig realized that while the rock was glowing, the woman wasn’t. No mage lines at all. Was this rock special? Or the human?

When she put the rock away with the announcement that a carriage was coming, Twig asked her. “How come you don’t have mage lines?”

A glare from Windmane said that might have been a rude question. Whoops.

She didn’t seem offended. “Clearly because I’m not a mage. This way, please.”

“But that was magic, right?” Twig pressed. No one was stopping him, and he wanted to know.

Lanya explained as they traveled down the well-lit street, past elaborate entrances to other homes. “Mage lines only show on magicians who have spent many years working with magic. The more practice, the stronger the glow. Officially it’s only those of noble blood who have the ability to learn it.” She dropped to a loud whisper. “But the official story is a lie.”

She spent the rest of the walk explaining the dramatic conspiracy keeping several noble families in power. Twig was shocked and indignant on her behalf, though eventually when the talk got into the intricacies of human politics, his mind started to wander. He let Beak ask the important questions. Practicing magic was more fun.

This was a darker area, and his mage lines threw blue light onto everyone. Lanya turned with a sharp motion for him to stop whatever he was doing.

Twig did. “What?”

“Save it for indoors, okay?” she asked. “Mage lines that come and go look extremely suspicious. No one has that.”

“Razorscale does — oh. Right. Okay.” Twig sighed and resigned himself to being bored again.

Thankfully the carriage driven by Lanya’s friend caught up to them soon, pulled by two white horses that reminded Twig strongly of the unicorns. But there wasn’t a sparkle or a fang to be seen.

The driver was a male human who ushered everyone inside quickly. Twig hopped down from the carpet and was first through the door that Lanya held open. He settled onto one of the cushy benches while Stomp helped Windmane inside and Beak rolled up the carpet. Lanya sat with her friend, and they were off.

What a novel way to travel. So bouncy and loud! It wasn’t fast by pixie standards, but it would do. And the view in this neighborhood was a different type of fancy with every house. Twig enjoyed the ride while the others talked and worried.

The carriage left the rich neighborhood for a more humble part of town. Still interesting; weird architecture. Eventually they pulled up to stop at what must be a house for regular people, and Lanya chivvied them all out. Twig didn’t ride on the carpet with Windmane this time. No need. The house was close and full of humans.

“Lanya, come in!” said the gray-haired woman at the door. “Who’s this?”

Introductions waited until the door was shut and the many humans were all staring, then Lanya went over it all again. Twig waved when appropriate. He demonstrated the mage line flare when asked, and lifted off the ground without being asked, only to be caught by at least three sets of hands and told to stop please.

Twig sighed and agreed.

Something caught his eye. “Can I go look at the bird?” he asked.

“Sure, just don’t bother her too much,” Lanya said. “She should be sleeping right now. Her name’s Nibbles.”

Twig made his escape to the other side of the room where Nibbles the green parakeet fluttered from one perch to another in a large cage that might actually be big enough for a bird her size. It certainly took up a fair chunk of the wall.

“Hi, Nibbles,” Twig said. “Do you speak?”

Nibbles made parakeet noises. She stayed on the other side of the cage.

Trying very hard, Twig activated his stolen human magic and tried again. “Do you understand me?”

He got an impression of surprise in that squawk, though it could have been from the sudden blue light.

“How’d you do that?” asked a young voice.

After a heartbeat of confusion, Twig realized that it wasn’t the bird who had spoken. He dropped the magic and turned to see two human children staring at him with wide eyes. “Oh, hi! Do what, the glowing? It’s just magic.”

“But it went away,” the taller child said. “People who glow are always like that.”

Twig shrugged. “I’m a different kind of people.” He didn’t want to explain it again.

“What are you doing?” asked the shorter child.

“Trying to talk to the bird. Nibbles.”

“With magic?”

Twig nodded. “Normally I can do it easily, but this magic is weird.”

The child looked thoughtful. “I don’t know how to do that, but I can do a different spell. Wanna see?”

“Sure!”

“It’s a spell to hear things far away,” the child said. “This room is really loud, but it’ll let me hear what my aunt is saying way over there.”

Twig followed the pointed finger. “Wow, that sounds hard! You must be very good for your age. How long since you pupated?”

“Since I what?” The child’s face twisted with confusion.

“Oh right, I keep forgetting humans don’t do that.” Twig smacked his own forehead. “You hatch in adult form, right?”

“We don’t hatch!” the child laughed at him. “That’s birds!”

Twig cocked his head with a smile. “And pixies.”

The conversation that followed with the two fascinated children was far more interesting than anything the adults would have come up with. And that was even before the child showed him the spell for spying on grownups.

~~~

The next chapter is here, and the latest is up on Patreon. Beak gets to handle things now.

[lunacrow-writes]

Messing With The Brothers- Solomon

Words-1659

Solomon and MC get into mischief and mess with the seven brothers

Solomon and MC laid in bed, talking about the human world and all its wonders.�� They laid on their sides, legs intertwined and holding hands. This was a normal thing for the couple. Whenever one of them got homesick, they would cuddle and talk about their homeland. Tonight they were talking about it out of boredom.

Solomon got an idea. “We should mess with the brothers! Like prank them or confuse them with human slang.”  

MC gasped, sitting up to grab their human phone from the nightstand. They searched up old vines. Solomon sat up and leaned his head on MC’s shoulder.  They made a list of different ideas before getting up and running over to the House of Lamentation. 

“Who should we start with?” MC whispered as Solomon quietly shut the door behind them.  He glanced towards the door to the kitchen.

“Let’s see who's in the kitchen.” They crept forward and peered into the kitchen. Beelzebub set out snacks from the cabinets and fridge onto the counter. Solomon raised a hand just as Beel started reaching for a bag of chips. The chips started moving away from the demon. His eyebrows scrunched in confusion. Solomon kept moving the bag away from him. It flew across the kitchen. Beel chased after it. MC laughed as the sorcerer dangled the bag right above the demon’s head before snatching it away just as he started reaching for it. 

Beelzebub turned into his demon form, growling frustrated. Solomon raised his other hand. MC watched as the rest of the food raised. Beelzebub glared at the floating food. With a flick of a wrist, the food came flying towards the demon. As Beelzebub shouted, trying to catch the food, Solomon pulled MC away from the scene, pulling them up to their room. 

The two burst out laughing as soon as the door shut. 

“That was great,” MC exclaimed. Solomon held onto them so he didn’t fall over from laughing.

“Alright who’s next?” Solomon asked after they calmed down. MC thought.

“Mammon!” The two walked out of the room and ran into Levi.  “Hey, Levi. Have you seen Mammon?”

“He’s in his room, I believe.” The otaku mumbled before heading into his room. The two humans ran to Mammon’s room and slowly crept open the door. He was playing a game on his Wii. The two ran in and started bouncing around, running into Mammon. 

“MOSH PIT!” MC yelled as the two backed into either side of Mammon.

“Hey! Quit it out you two! What ya think your doin’?” They kept knocking into the demon. Soon Mammon fell over, dropping the remote and losing his game. The two ran out of his room laughing, shutting the door to his room. 

“We should get Belphie next,” Solomon said in between laughter. They walked over to the twin’s room. Belphie was passed on on his bed, on his stomach and his head off to one side. 

“We should draw on his face,” MC whispered. 

“What though? We need to think of something that makes up for the lame prank.” 

MC pouted. “Why are you calling my prank lame?”

Solomon chuckled and pecked MC’s lips. “Sorry babe. It is though.” 

“Fine. No more kisses for you.” MC walked over and grabbed a marker off Belphie’s desk. 

Solomon scoffed. “Fine then.” 

He watched as MC started writing on the sleeping demon’s forehead. ‘ I heart Lucifer’ 

MC drew smaller hearts around the bigger heart. Solomon stifled a laugh before taking the marker from MC. ‘Mammon is the best brother.’ Was written on his cheek. 

They drew smiley faces on his other cheek. MC put the marker back where they found it before exiting. 

“I have an idea for Lucifer but I want to leave him for last,” MC smirked at their boyfriend. 

“Okay. Next target?”

“We have Satan, Levi and… ASMO!” Solomon smirked.

“Asmo it is.” They two entered the lusty demon’s room. Water running could be heard from the bathroom. He was taking a bath. The two snuck forward. As they got closer, Asmo’s soft singing could be heard. 

“What should we do? I don’t want to see anything so what can we do from out here?” MC whispered. 

“I can turn the water into slime or goop.” 

MC nodded and ran over to Asmo’s vainty. They grabbed an unused lipstick and uncapped it. Solomon watched curiously as they leaned over the desk and started writing on the mirror.

‘My body is a temple. Open day and night to everyone.’

He had to stifle a laugh when he read what MC wrote. They placed the lipstick back before nodding to Solomon. He opened the door a crack and concentrated on the water. With a snap of his fingers, the water turned to greenish brown goop. Amso let out an ear piercing scream. The two heard him stand up as they booked it out of his room. They found themselves in Levi’s room for shelter as Lucifer’s footsteps approached Asmo’s room. 

They looked over at the otaku. He was engrossed in playing a game. His headphones prevented him from hearing any noise. They walked up behind him. He didn’t notice.

“LEVI!” MC shouted, grabbing his shoulders. The demon stiffened, throwing his control in the air. A loud shriek come from his mouth. 

“What the hell MC!” Levi ripped off his headphones. 

“What crack-a-lacking, Levi?” Solomon asked. Levi looked at him confused.

“Hey, slap me some skin, buddy.” MC held out their hand. The demon’s eyes glanced from MC’s face to their hand. 

“Listen, sugar-” Leviathan did a double take.

“Did you just call me sugar?”

“We just want to know why the chicken crossed the road, okay?”

“More importantly, why does everyone question him when he does?” Levi looked between the two, confusion all over his face. They struggled to keep back the laughter.

“Hey, brolevi, we got beat feet.” Solomon jabbed a thumb towards the door. 

“We’ll let you get back to your game, dudester.” They calmly walked out. Solomon stopped in the doorway. 

“Don’t forget, an apple a day keeps the mortician away.” 

MC started choking on air. Solomon quickly shut the door before dragging MC away. They were red with laughter and from the lack of oxygen. MC gasped, trying to get as much air in before they started coughing again.

“That was awesome,” they croaked. Solomon patted their back.

“It was. You alright?” MC nodded, calming down. 

“Time to get Satan.” They walked to the library where the fourth eldest was. They stood outside, trying to figure out what to do.

“Let's head to his room and mess with his books.” MC whispered before leaning in to glance at the blond. Solomon chuckled.

“He is going to be pissed.”

“We can blame it on Mammon.” 

They ran off to Satan’s room. Entering, the dodge the piles of books and papers on the floor. 

“Okay, let switch piles around.” They started moving books and papers out of their place.

“Lets just rearrange the entire room,” Solomon suggested.  

MC shrugged. “Why not.” They started switching the furniture around as quickly as possible. The bed was moved to the other side of the room along with the chair. 

MC wiped their brow as Solomon finished placing the last pile of papers on the desk. 

“We should get out of here before Satan returns.” We walked out of the room and softly closed the door just as Satan opened the library door. We moved away from his room as quickly as we could. 

Solomon pinned MC up against the wall with one arm, placing his lips on theirs as Satan turned to head towards his room. 

“Can you two not make out by my room? Go to MC’s room and do that.” Satan asked, scrunching his nose in disgust as he approached.

“No, it's not as fun,” MC stated, pulling away from their boyfriend. Satan scoffed and opened up his door. Solomon moved away from MC so they could make a quick escape. 

“What the actual fuck? Satan exclaimed when he saw his room. 

“GOTCHA,” Solomon shouted as the two ran away. 

“SOLOMON, MC! GET BACK HERE RIGHT THIS INSTANT!” Satan roared, chasing after them. 

“Dinner is ready!” Lucifer yelled from the bottom of the stairs. MC and Solomon raced down the stairs, jumping down the last few. Satan pounded after them.

“Why are you running? Why are you running?” MC shouted back at Satan. Lucifer raised an eyebrow. The two ran past him and towards the dining room. 

“Beelzebub, save us!” MC yelled, hiding behind the tall demon.

“No.”

Satan ran into the room. “Come here you two.” 

“NO!” Solomon and MC yelled. Mammon walked in.

“Are you fighting them too? Cause they made me lose my game.”

Leviathan walked in after him. “Same here. They scared the shit out of me.” 

Solomon and MC slowly backed away from the group.

Beelzebub looked at the two. “Was that you guys messing with me and the food earlier?” 

MC laughed sheepishly. “No…” 

Asmodeus ran into the room. “WHOEVER MESSED WITH MY BATH AND WROTE ON MY MIRROR IS GOING TO PAY! MY SKIN IS STAINED AND SO IS MY MIRROR!” 

Solomon and MC exchanged looks. Belphie walked in rubbing his eyes, tiredly.

 “Whats with all the racket?” The other brothers gasped when they saw his face. Lucifer pulled out his phone and opened the camera, handing it to his youngest brother.

“Look at your face.” 

Belphie screamed. “WHO DID THIS?” 

“MC, we have to get Lucifer and then get out of here or we’re dead meat. I can port us back to my dorm,” Solomon whispered. MC nodded. Everyone stared at Belphies face as the two snuck up. 

“What did they do to you, Lucifer?” Mammon asked. Lucifer smirked.

“Nothing.” 

“Yet. VIBE CHECK!” Solomon and MC yelled, smacking the oldest on the ass before Solomon teleported them back to his dorm.

Lucifer stiffened. “GET BACK HERE YOU TWO!”

[fijiangecko]

Maintaining a New Life

Chapter 8 - In Motion

Read it on AO3 here

previous | next

~~~~~~

The sun had risen and set 3 times since each group began their hunts. Each day providing no new information and the hope of keeping each other safe felt as if it was getting farther and farther away. Kuroo, Oikawa and Iwazumi split off into two groups most of the time, Oikawa and Kuroo walking around town while Iwaizumi kept an eye out for any Port Mafia patrols and your car.

Iwaizumi refused to be alone with Kuroo, stating multiple times that he would “rather gauge his own eyes out then look at the fuckwad who drove out one of his best friends”. A tad bit harsh for Oikawa's taste, but he maintained the peace between the two whenever they brought tension to the table. Kuroo doesn’t mean to be irritating but there’s still so much he doesn’t understand, and these two don’t help in answering his questions since they don’t know much about your past and why you left.

On your end of things, you decided to lay low during the day and do some rounds on the streets at dusk and dawn. Largely things remained the same for the Port Mafia: they operated on the schedule you created and stuck to the same routine based on what vehicles and hangouts you’d seen so far. 

Guess they really haven’t progressed all that much since I left, you think while watching the endless stream of cars. Washijo’s health wasn’t too good, and I can’t imagine it’s gotten any better with all the stress of transferring power and dealing with the mess that I left.

After little to no new information and more questions than answers, the weekend rolled around and the sun has started to hang lower in the sky. You lean against the counter in your kitchen, sipping on a cup of tea and listen to the birds sing from tree to tree. Looking to the clock, you sigh and set the mug down, heading towards the bedroom.

If everything goes according to plan, this whole operation should be relatively quick and you can just leave the club within an hour of getting in. You sift through what little clothes you have and get ready to blend in with tonight’s crowd; standard makeup, nothing too flashy, and a relatively short dress to match. None of your shoes really fit, so the black sneakers would have to do for now. 

With a deep breath, you take a final glance in the mirror and mentally prepare for whatever the night has in store. You double check that your car is stacked with any you could possibly need and rev the engine, taking the dirt road down onto the streets.

The sun starts to set over the horizon, leaving the bright orange orb blaring down on the asphalt as the tires roll down the highway. You don’t bother to turn on the radio, deciding to run through the plan and all of the backups you have prepared. Through public records you were able to find the new layout plans for “The Neon Nights”, so you knew relatively where everything should be and how to get to it. That didn’t always translate into action, though. 

Instead of chewing on your lip you moved onto the inside of your cheek, ripping it to shreds over the course of the past couple of days. You haven’t been this nervous in quite a while and it was really starting to fuck with your head. 

Confidence and assurance were two very different things but often got confused for one another. Back at the ADA everyone just believed you to be confident, and that’s not to say that you weren’t. You know you are one hell of a detective, doing the work that needs to be done and doing it effectively, but it was more so that you knew you were safe and around people that were relatively safe as well. Standard protocol in the Port Mafia was not to fuck with others that had gifts. Washijo always stated that it was to keep the peace on the streets, but that was total bullshit. At the very least, you knew that while the ADA was on their radar, there wasn’t anything that they would be able to do in order to harm your friends.

Now everything was uncertain, there was no more assurance. You didn’t know if they were going to be safe. Tendou always did what he wanted and Washijo just turned a blind eye to it. Now he knows that you’re alive and in Yokohama.

On top of that, he saw you with the two of your right hand men that left shortly after you and a new man from the ADA. Tooru and Hajime were found out because you got careless.

The Port Mafia is also aware now of who Kuroo is and that he has connections to you. There’s always going to be a crosshair aimed at the back of his head if you don’t get into that club tonight and do everything you possibly can to erase those damn records of not only your existence, but everyone you care about too.

You blink hard, letting the colors settle behind your eyelids before reopening your eyes and focusing on the road. The stream of thoughts that just crossed your mind had left your heart and head pounding.

Nothing will happen to them as long as everything goes as planned. I’ll find the data servers and wipe whatever I can then skip town. Again, you go through the plan as the last bit of sun disappears around the edge of the world.

 Coming to a slow halt, you park a few blocks away and walk the area in order to secure a teleportation spot and secure an escape route. The checklist in your mind finally had everything marked and every movement from now on was going to be almost robotic as you try to act like the crowd around you. Countless couples and parties line the edge of the building you once knew as a headquarters, the stink of alcohol present already from those who were leaving the venue for whatever reason.

By your lonesome you wait to meet the bouncer at the door, minutes passing as the line dwindles down until you can hear the muffled electronic music. The ground felt like it was shaking from the hundreds of people all dancing just a few feet past this wall. You peer around a few people ahead of you and make note of a pin on the bouncer's suit jacket, confirming that this club is still under mafia control.

You take another deep breath and just hope that news of your reappearance was just kept to the inner circle and henchmen like him weren’t informed quite yet of what was happening. The person in front of you walks inside the club, leaving you face to face with the man with shades. He looks you up and down, your heart picking up as you smile sweetly. Charm wasn’t your specialty but you know the basics. Without another moment to spare, he nods towards the mass of people and you quickly take your place inside the dark and dense room.

The music increases tenfold from when you were outside, feeling the bass changing the rhythm of your heartbeat. Hundreds of people crowd the center of the room, dancing to their hearts out while others line the bars stretched out on the walls.

You walk to the furthest side of the bar, mapping out where you are in your head and making note of little landmarks on the map you practically memorized. Figuring it would look more natural, you squeeze yourself in and order something. Partially to calm your nerves. 

“And the devil herself appears.” Chills run up and down your spine, the voice of whomever just spoke stopping you dead in your tracks. They lean in real close,from behind, lips grazing your ear, their breath warm against your skin as they whisper to you. “Nice to see you Y/N.”

Cautiously you turn your head and face the voice, only to be met with a head of bleached hair and a sultry smile. “Miss me?” He says while placing his hands on his hips.

“Terushima.” The tension in your body hadn’t quite left, unsure of where his loyalties are makes your mind run a thousand miles per second. You prepare to portal out of the club, but his hand on your wrist interrupts everything.

“Let’s have a chat in the back, yeah?” Before you even know what’s going on, you're being dragged to one of the side hallways and up a set of stairs. You take in the surroundings the best you can while being pulled along and realize that he’s taking you back to what used to be the main office area.

Terushima pushes open a set of doors into a lounge area. A large sectional couch faces glass panes that showcase the entirety of the club and a small personal bar and desk line the other two walls in the room. He lets go of the hold on your wrist and beelines it to the alcohol and starts to construct his own drink.

You’re stiff as a board in the center of the room, still taking in everything that just happened in the last two minutes. He watches as you try and create a plan, and laughs out loud at your distraught. “I’m not gonna tell anyone you know.”

It’s like your body snaps when you move to look at him. “Excuse me?”

“I said, ‘I’m not going to tell anyone’.” He strains his cocktail into a glass and saunters over to the couch, sitting himself down. “I really don’t do any work with the Port Mafia since I manage the club. There’s no real benefit to me telling them.”

“Wait,” you blink and scrunch your face together as you follow him down onto the couch, “you manage the club now?”

“Bingo.” The amber drink in his hands disappears slowly as it glides down his throat. “After you left and Tendou took over your position they redistributed everything and wanted to change our little jazz club into a full blow nightclub for the younger people to come and party. I was pretty much the only person around that knew how to keep everything relatively in order, so here we are.” The one free hand Terushima has open lifts up off of his thigh and plops back down in a sort of defeat. His chocolatey spheres hold your gaze.

“And you gave up on singing?” It’s an honest question. The last time you both had a serious conversation was when Terushima was the main singer for your aforementioned jazz club.

“No, more like I took a break. I couldn’t really say no to the Port Mafia so I put my career on hold.” A pained expression flashes across his face before returning to his previous position.

“I’m really sorry Teru.” You scoot closer to him on the cushion, setting your drink down on the table at the center and resting a hand on his shoulder. It was the best consoling you got considering this is basically your fault.

“Don’t be.” He can see the guilt in your eyes and quickly dismisses them. “You did what was better for yourself. Anyone who couldn’t see that you were unhappy was stupid and it wasn’t a suprise when they told me you were gone.” He rests that free hand on top of yours and rubs circles onto the back of your hand while reaching down to place his drink on the same table. “I just thought that I would never see you again, so spotting you by the bar tonight really shook me to the core, y’know?”

The smile that finishes his sentence is wicked, lips curling up at the end. There was always something left unsaid between you both; light touches here and there, lingering glances from across the dimly lit club room and the handful of “dates” (according to him) shared between you two. It never went anywhere; he being the flirt he was made you very nonchalant about his advances. Plus there was the matter of his gift that made things complicated, so it was just better for you to stay out of trouble the best you could.

Things are different now, though. Terushima didn’t cause your chest to tighten or make the blood in your system rush to your cheeks when you thought of what it would be like to be with him late into the night, curled into one another and just simply being. No, that spot now belonged to a tall, lean and dark haired man that weaseled his way into your heart and mind by using his shitty science puns and awkward dancing when he was almost blackout drunk. Those nights of wondering what life would be like with someone else no longer contained bleach blonde hair or a tongue piercing, but the easy comfort that came from Kuroo Tetsuro.

“Yeah, about that.” Your grasp on his shoulder tightens, other fist clenching “Tendou saw me a couple days ago and I’m pretty sure he’s on the hunt. I need to find the P.M. servers-”

“So you came here to find them.” He cuts you off, but doesn’t finish the sentence with a question. He might be a playboy but he’s been through the ringer once or twice and knows that you just didn’t show up tonight to see him. “Unfortunately they moved them a couple of years ago to create an arms deal station in the basement. To my knowledge they took all that stuff to Club Impac-”

Suddenly a young lady busts through the doors, drunkenly falling onto the floor with her eyes completely unfocused on the area around her. A man in a suit comes rushing down the corridor, targeting the woman on the ground.

With many apologies the guard pulls the woman rather harshly off of the ground and looks up to once again ask for forgiveness from Terushima, but meets your cold eyes instead. The spur of the moment interruption caused you to turn around in your seat and watch the events unfold.

Unknown to you, this man had worked under Ushijima for years and had met your eyes years ago. He recognized the dead stare you were giving him currently, but continued pulling the woman out of the room. A bitter taste fills his mouth as he shuts the doors, immediately ditching the woman by the restrooms and walking to the head of security to inform him of the guest that just happened to be sitting up in the lounge.

“Anyways…” Terushima continues filling you in on what has happened logistically within the mafia since your leaving.

Roughly 30 minutes prior to that conversation, miles out into the outskirts of the city the three men who have been trying to catch you at the right time huddled around a coffee table and went over their plan of attack one last time.

“You both got it?” Iwaizumi flicked the last piece of paper in a file down onto the hardwood, looking between the two taller men. Wordlessly they both nodded and turned to grab their respective bags with the appropriate clothes for the night. Oikawa’s outfit was a little more classy then the others to match his personality, Kuroo and Iwaizumi going for something pretty simple just in case anything goes haywire, but with their final touches done up they were ready to set out for the night.

“Do you really think that she’s going to be here tonight?” Kuroo asked Oikawa while Iwaizumi called a taxi. They were a little behind schedule and missed the train, so they had to opt for something quick.

“Out of everything we’ve done so far, I think this is our best chance at catching her. This club used to be a faux headquarters for her. I’m almost positive that she’s either looking for a certain someone,” Iwaizumi catches the tone in Oikawa’s voice as he spoke, making eyes at him while he finished his sentence, “or that she left something behind.”

They both knew that you were fond of Terushima, but they also knew that you had moved on from all of that. You had your eyes set on someone else. That still didn’t mean that you weren’t there for him, but the idea that it was anything but business was a little far fetched.

“So you guys used to be there all the time?” The taxi pulled up to the curb, waiting for Kuroo and the others to hop in. 

“Yeah. Every weekend she would have us come have drinks with her since we were her ‘groupies’, essentially .” Iwaizumi answered, using quotations with his fingers to get the point across. “It was more like a weekly check in but sometimes all we did was catch up with one another.”

The memories warmed his heart. He never once felt like he was working for you, but alongside you. You truly cared about their goals and ambitions, oftentimes ignoring the actual work that the Port Mafia wanted to get done and helping the citizens most in need. Coincidentally, that was how you made the most money and controlled the most area - the people liked you. Being in your squad was a different experience from every other job he had within the Mafia, and as soon as you disappeared he knew that he was going to have to get out sooner rather than later.

Oikawa felt the exact same way, and couldn’t imagine a life where he and Iwaizumi didn’t work together, so they devised a plan and faked their deaths in order to obtain what little freedom that would allow. Both knew that you weren’t dead, no matter how solid the evidence looked, and stuck their foot in the ground in Yokohama in an effort to find you. Two years later they accepted jobs as detectives with the ADA and walked in to see you, sitting at a desk, smiling and laughing with your fellow detectives.

The car ride was silent for the most part, the taxi driver asked a handful of questions before letting the radio fill the dead air. Iwaizumi kept track of how close they were and directed the driver to a few blocks off so they could walk up to the club (he really didn’t want to get this poor guy involved, so better to keep him out of it).

With a small wave from Oikawa, the boys head down the streets but their moods quickly shift as streams of people flood out of the building. The screams of hundreds fills the night air and the heavy footsteps of the three carry as closely as possible to the front entrance. Crowds topple over one another in an attempt to make it out safely as the sound of a single gunshot ricochets off of every surface, furthering the panic in the chests of innocents. Eyes flicking to every possible entrance, Kuroo feels deep down in his soul that you’re inside - you’re either the one firing or being fired at and either causes his chest to tighten, the neverending pit of anxiety at the bottom of his stomach somehow growing deeper. The three stand like a rock against a current of bodies, everyone just running past them and filling the space behind the group as they run.

Only a few moments before their arrival, Terushima and yourself were finishing your drinks and sharing a laugh when splinters flick off the set of doors, and single shot entering the room and shattering the large glass windows that look down on the dance floor. The initial panic takes a second to kick in before the patrons below start their scramble. Terushima’s instincts kicked in and he grabbed you rather harshly and shoved you down onto the ground, covering your body with his own.

“We know you’re in there Y/N!” The voice that spoke was unfamiliar to you, probably just some higher level goon that happened to know what was going on. While tucked under Terushima’s body, you open a small portal to the dashboard of your car and grab the handgun you left waiting. It always pays off to have a backup plan, you think while taking in the surrounding area. The men had yet to breach the room itself, leaving an opportunity for both of you to escape, whether that be jumping down onto the dance floor or using a portal.

“Teru,” his eyes focus on the door but you know he’s listening to your harsh whispers, “we can jump down and blend in the crowd-”

“No.” His jaw clenches, the lines on his face becoming harsher. “They deliberately shot at the window to lure us out there. The one talking is the head of this district so I’m sure every mobster in the area is here keeping an eye out for you.”

“Fuck…” your heart beats just as fast as your brain fires off thousands of different ideas. The crowd of people down below scream for help as they run out into the night and then another shot comes, this time it sounds like it’s from down below. In the crowd.

“Are they firing at civilians?!” Your mind spirals down. What the fuck are they thinking?

“One of those idiots might’ve thought that they saw you.” Terushima detaches himself from you and reaches under one of the tables, grabbing a hidden handgun and making sure it’s loaded.

As he checks the magazine, you muster up a portal big enough for a person to fit through, the other end looking out onto the streets. “Get in Teru. They’re after me.” You plead him with both your eyes and your voice, hands twitching around the cold metal of your pistol.

“Not happening sweetheart.” His smile is sly and coy, teasing you almost. “This is my club that they’re ruining and these people are my guests.” He gestures to the window and then to you, slowing the fall of his hand to emphasize his next words. “It’s my duty to protect them.”

Your lips tugs into a smile and you shut the portal. “Alright then.”

Down on the streets below the three men try to push up river through the endless streams of people running away from yet another shot. Women fall over, others trampling them in the fearful haze that covers the downtown. Iwaizumi rushes over and picks them up, shielding them from the hoards of shoes and getting them back on their feet.

SUV’s among other black vehicles speed around various street corners and men in suits start to surround the area, each fitted with different weapons of different calibers. Pressure grows in the small atmosphere of the downtown area, ears yearning to pop and get ahold of the situation but Kuroo doesn’t know if he would rather feel the throbbing in his head or the despair of hundreds.

Oikawa spins in circles, taking in every detail he can of the mayhem. Each of his senses feels like they’re on fire, enhanced from the sudden change in pace. It would be suicide to use his gift now, so the best he can do in trust his brain to intake whatever information is available.

The three converge after each attains their bearings and stand back to back. “What now?” Iwaizumi is forced to yell over the collage of sounds.

“We go in? I mean she’s gotta be in there, right?!” Oikawa shouts equally as loud, still turning his head around to look at the distressed faces. His voice comes out exasperated and rushed, his breathing picking up.

“Go in?! We can barely move five feet forward, how the fuck are we supposed to get in?” Kuroo takes the more logical stance, trying his best to find a solution to the problem at hand: what to do next.

Luckily, Oikawa, in his twisty turn around scavenger hunt, had spotted a fire escape on the side of the closest apartment building. If they wanted to get a height advantage and take a moment to clear their heads, that would be the spot. He shakes both of his companions shoulders and gestures his head to the ladder. Lightbulbs light up in their heads and slowly but surely they take small steps towards the iron bars, giving the people enough time to adjust to the change in current.

It only takes a minute or two to finally reach the ladder, Iwa hoisting Tooru with weaved fingers and will to lift with his legs, not his back. One handed, Oikawa pulls down the ladder and the three make their way to the landing.

The chaos seen from above is only less claustrophobic as it doesn't let their hearts take a moment to rest. Rather, showcasing the complete lack of control from anyone down below. Every person down below looks like a rat on the loose, caught at the wrong time as they scatter in all directions. Kuroo leans over the edge of the railing, trying to get a better view of the inside of the club.

“There’s a bunch of guys with guns pointed at the top room, part of the window was either smashed or shot at since it’s all over the floor.” Iwa observes to the left of Kuroo, also leaning over the delicate iron bars.

“Can you see in that top room?” Kuroo squints, but it doesn’t enhance his vision.

“Not really,” Iwaizumi starts to tilt his head in various directions, finding the best angle to peer inside that room. “Looks like there’s two people up there but I can’t make out any faces.”

“We should’ve brought Akaashi…” Kuroo mumbles to himself, at this point wondering everything that could’ve been different in this moment. “Well one of them has to be Y/N. I think that’s a given at this point.”

“That or she’s the woman one of the guys has hostage on the lower level.” Oikawa notes, gesturing to each of them to come to where he stands and uses his hand to try and guide their view to a better position.

You also take note of the hostage, peeking down from the remains of the windows. The thought that the Port Mafia is now so low that they would take hostages in order to obtain an ex-member leaves a bad taste on the tip of your tongue. Cold metal brushes your chest as you keep your gun close to your chest. Being as silent as possible, you carefully crouch around the room and get eyes on everything you can.

Terushima had taken off his blazer just a few seconds ago, throwing it over the edge of the couch and creeping closer to the double doors. He listens to whatever words he can make out through the veil of screams and footsteps, retaining only the name “Tendou”.

His head turns to yours from across the room, mouthing the words “Tendou is coming”.

With a clenched jaw, you turn back to the dance floor and see that two more girls were being kicked onto the ground, making a total of three hostages. Hands cover their ears as they plead for their lives.

“Alright Y/N! You’ve got one choice: you either turn yourself over right now or you sit and wait until Satori gets here and we kill those girls and Terushima!” Whoever spoke before loudy shouts again, the words bouncing off of every glossy surface of the club.

GODDAMMIT! Sweat builds in the palm of your hands, the bass from the speakers making the miniscule shards of glass on the ground shake; bits and pieces falling off the ledge and into various crevices in the tile. There’s really only one thing left to do, you think to yourself and Terushima watches as the familiar cerulean hue starts to color the very lines of your body. 

A portal opens to your left, the circle opening up to a view of the entryway of the building. From this vantage point you can see a group of men, all in suits and with their weapons either pointed at the hostages or the balcony. Without hesitation you aim the barrel of the gun at the closest guy and fire at his leg. The bullet enters his calf muscle, leaving through the shin and he immediately keels over. Other men are alerted by the sound and turn quickly to find the source. Like a trained soldier you close and open various portals, one at a time and in dissimilar spots to try and confuse them, and fire potshots at whoever catches your eye first. 

Arguing continues between Kuroo and Iwaizumi as they battle on what to do next; one trying to approach the situation like it’s made of delicate porcelain and the other ready to give blood, sweat and tears. Oikawa refuses to let his eyes leave the club, and it proves to be useful as rifts start to open and close within the confined space. His eyes dilate and once again he slaps Iwa on the shoulder mid sentence.

“What the hell Shittykawa?!” Iwa gnashes, foam practically running down the side of his mouth.

“She’s making her move.” Dominos start to fall, but for once in a very long time the two don’t know what lies at the end of the line. Kuroo can’t believe what he’s seeing - he’s only ever seen you use your gift sparingly and in desperate situations, never to an extent such as this. The last piece of the puzzle finally goes into place as it dawns on Tetsuro that this is life or death. There is no playing around and there are no wrong moves. 

“Alright Iwaizumi: I’m in.”

The aforementioned turns to him with a blank expression, a little unsure of what to do now. Oikawa watches as Kuroo claps his hands together and squats down and it hits him all at once; this is the first time he’s ever seen Kuroo’s gift in any capacity. Satisfied with the warm feeling on his skin, Tetsuro releases his hands and places them on the iron below, the space surrounding them glowing like they do.

In an instance, the vibrancy dies down and on the landing lies two items in a similar shape to hand grenades. A smirk tugs at his features and he states, “We’ll get in with these.”

Their jaws drop and Tooru starts to huff in disbelief, “I can appreciate your tenacity Kuroo-san but that seems like overkill.”

“Seriously…” Iwa adds sarcastically, slightly sticking out his arm to act as a shield between the two.

The smile disappears quickly and Kuroo brings a hand up to rub his brows. “They’re smoke grenades…”

Forming an ‘o’ with his mouth, Tooru starts to nod his head and Hajime drops the raised arm. “I knew that.”

Licking his lips, Kuroo passes one of the grenades to Iwaizumi and mouths “of course you did” to silently mock them. At least they share a brain cell.

Another few minutes pass, the gang of men make their way back down the ladder and into the frey. During that time you remain using the same tactic, effectively avoiding any unwanted attention from the growing crowd of henchmen. More had been called in after your initial shot, the head honcho making plays over the various walkie talkies. 

You close a portal and let your chest heave, taking long deep breaths and settling down. The spacing of your shots has been growing larger to keep the suspense up, but in this timeframe you create a mini portal to grab a new magazine and reload. You close your eyes and let the noise wrap you like a blanket, surrounding you and taking precedence over every other sense in your body. Right as you whip to the right and start to open a rift, the small tinks of metal on concrete are drowned out.

Slowly, smoke swirls around the dance floor, rising and expanding out in all directions. Another can sputter to life and causes the room to turn opaque. Light bounces around in rays that color the white sheet that now fills the room.

Right outside the doors of the club Iwaizumi charges up his ability, letting a firm feeling prick every inch of his skin before ramming himself through the doors. Tooru sticks to his back and fires at every shape he can make out through the fog, Kuroo acting as the kaboose and covering any stragglers that those two seem to miss.

From your end of things, the room starts to fill with white and immediately you shut the gateway, watching from your perch as the fog dissipates right as it reaches your feet. Terushima also evaluates the situation, deciding to take the chance and barge out of the doors and tackle whoever is closest. Unfortunately he didn’t think super far ahead and that leaves you in a compromising position.

Gunfire fills the hallways of the building, but the light that flashes up on the second level lets Kuroo know that shit’s going down. Without hesitation he leaves formation and hauls ass down the hall and up some stairs. Four men in total block his path to you, two being on the floor and the other two shooting in your general direction.  

It’s as if red seeps into his eyelids, rage pumps through his veins at a level he thought himself incapable. The barrel of his gun points down at the thigh of one of the standing men. As soon as the bullet hits its mark he rushes the other one and knocks him upside the head with the butt of the gun. In less than three minutes Kuroo had entered the building and knocked out two guys in order to rush to your side.

A wedge was pushed in the cogs in your brain, halting all functions and making your eye twitch. Kuroo squats down to meet your eye level and stares at you with piercing golden eyes. His pupils dilate when they meet yours which are full of confusion, then disbelief and finally annoyance.

“You fuckin’ asshole.” The words should be lost to the mirage of the night, but they’re the only things Kuroo can hear.

Almost scared, he reaches forward and curls his fingers around the flesh of your forearm and responds. “Let’s get out of here.”

Whatever shock that stopped your brain had washed over and now it felt like everything was moving too quickly in order to catch up. The fog was starting to clear and you can make out the figures of both Oikawa and Iwaizumi down on the dance floor below, watching each other's backs. Terushima stands near the edge of the balcony and joins them in taking down what seems to be an endless stream of goons.

He turns to you and winks, a silent goodbye as Kuroo grabs a tight hold of your arm and pulls you off of the ground. It’s a blur as you leap over several unconscious men and down the stairs. Whatever crowd was left was thin at best, no civilians in sight and many mafia members toppled over. Iwaizumi steps backwards towards you two, Oikawa shifting himself so the three act as armor around you.

Just as swift as the entrance, the boys shove you along and out into the streets. The screeching of tires alerts the four of you, yet another SUV speeds down the narrow streets of the downtown.

“Fuck” you whisper and get your bearings. Your legs are quicker than your brain and you shout, “follow me!” Your two fellow ex-members are already by your sides and Kuroo lags behind. Quickly you throw the keys to Iwaizumi. “When we get to the car, just drive. Doesn’t matter what streets you go down.”

Yet again Kuroo watches as the three of you work together like a well oiled machine, Hajime practically ripping the door off of its hinges and shaking the car as he sits. Tooru follows suit on the passenger side and deja vu strikes hard once Kuroo gets his but down into the seat.

Iwaizumi revs the engine and rapidly turns the wheel from side to side as the car skids and jolts into the center of a major road.

“Whatever happens, just keep her in the center of the road!” You whirl around and face the rear windshield, spotting the vehicles that now tail you all. Luckily the night means less traffic and Hajime can keep to the center of the road. Whoever was driving this late at night veers out of the way as the street turns crowded with several cars turning corners rather fast and joining in with those that already follow you.

You roll down the window next to you and start to shoot blindly out of the side, not daring to stick your whole body out of the car like last time due to the sheer amount of firepower that would be sure to hit you. Kuroo and Oikawa do the same as you, Kuroo ducking his head while doing so just in case any bullets come flying in through the back window and Oikawa tries to use the side mirror to aim his shots. 

Not even two minutes since this drive began and cop cars light up the road ahead, about three quarters of a mile in front.

“Uhh Y/N! We got a problem!” Iwaizumi white knuckles the steering wheel and starts to turn it, planning on going down one of the side streets to put all threats behind your car. You whip your head around and evaluate the situation, quickly realizing that this is an opportune moment for something you’ve been keeping up your sleeve.

“You better keep this car in the center of the road Hajime or so help me God I will kill you before anyone else has the chance!” You scream and place yourself in the center of the back bench which gives you a relatively clear view of the road. Breathing in through your nose and out with your mouth, you clap your hands together much like Kuroo did earlier in the night. Continuing your breathing pattern, Hajime returns the car to the center of the road.

“Step on the gas.” You command, your eyes closed in concentration.

“Y/N are you sure?!” There wasn’t a hint of doubt in Iwaizumi’s questioning, but more of a confirmation of action.

“Just fucking do it!”

The clock ticks down as both forces start to close in. Five seconds before impact: the cops are unsure what to do. Some stopped their vehicles and were preparing road spikes while the others continue charging forward and speak through the sound system, warning you all of what’s going to happen. The Port Mafia also starts to slow down as they are just as confused as the police. No one really knows what you have in plan, but those in charge of each group are determined to get to the bottom of things.

Four seconds to go and the pit at everyone’s stomach grows a size larger; a faint sapphire glow emanates just from your hands and Kuroo watches curiously. The phrase trusting someone with your life had never meant much to him, but in this moment he really understood the complete lack of control he has.

Three; Oikawa sits up right in his seat and straps himself in, also closing his eyes to alleviate the stress of the scene before him.

Two; the glow around your fingertips has grown exponentially into something almost blinding. Iwaizumi steadies the wheel and fights the urge to jerk the car.

Right before impact with the front runner the view of a country road lined with trees fills Hajime and Kuroo’s eyes. The car barely fits into the rift and bounces up and down. You weren’t able to align the two roads perfectly off of memory, so you opted to have it a little high up. Kuroo checks behind them and the road is empty. No sight of any buildings or vehicles - just a clear sky and the wilderness that surrounds them.

Tooru didn’t realize he was clutching onto his chest strap until he opens his eyes and lets out a breath he was holding. Hajime adjusts quickly to the new territory and slows the car down some, leaning back into his seat. Kuroo, amazed that you were in the clear, turns to you, but your head is lolled to the side. 

“Y/N?” Ever so gently, he shakes your shoulder and your eyes crack open. You turn to face him and blood is streaming from one nostril, down your face and dripping onto your shirt. He freezes up, just now realizing how much this whole ordeal must’ve taken out of you.

A tissue appears in front of both of your faces, Tooru’s hand attached to it. “You always pull that stuff off last second even though you could’ve just done it as soon as we got in the car.”

“Fuck off,” you sound drained and totally devoid of any emotion. “If we can get out of it without having to port out then we’ll do it that way, but the cops got in the way.” You take the tissue and start to wipe up whatever you can, your movements slow.

“Are you alright?” Kuroo is unsure of his place, a total contrast from inside the club when he was the most assertive you had ever seen him.

“Loaded question.” You want so badly to drop them off on the side of the road and hope that they just leave you alone, but your eyes blur every few seconds and you know that you are in no position to drive. Several emotions bubble up at the thought that they kept looking for you, put their lives on the line to find you and actually ended up saving you.

Effectively dodging the question, you slide back over to your side of the car and place your head on the window, giving Hajime directions to your home. They’re smart enough to know that now isn’t the time to talk, nor is it the time to ask questions like “what’s next?” and so on.

The high beams of your car light up the large house at the end of the gravel road, your headache nearing its end and the boys all ogle at your property. A flick of his hands and Iwaizumi turns the car off, then steps out into the cold air. He takes a few steps back and precariously opens the door you’re leaning on. With careful consideration, he crouches down and tries to let you use him as a crutch, but in all the time you had to think on the ride here, you shove him off and stumble a bit.

Gaining some balance, you speak with an unwavering tone. “What you did tonight was stupid. All of you.” You turn and meet each of their eyes, Kuroo and Oikawa still on the other side of the car. “I explicitly told you all not to get involved and still you fucking showed up.”

They all freeze at the accusatory finger you’re pointing and watch as you start to back yourself up to the entryway. Iwaizumi, who normally decides to let Tooru charm his way out of things, is the first to speak. “You’re right.” His eyes bore into your own, but he continues. “But that doesn’t change the fact that if we weren’t there you would’ve been fucked.”

“As if.” You spit back, not thinking clearly as you’re more focused on getting your own point across. Hajime only started fights when he thought it was absolutely necessary. This didn’t cross your mind, but Tooru’s as he realizes the upcoming screaming match. 

“As if?!” His voice booms over the forest, possibly shaking the leaves on the trees. “You were backed into a fucking corner Y/N! For god's sake, did you think Terushima was gonna be able to help you out of that shitshow?” He stops his assault for a moment, seeing if you would answer but you grind your teeth instead. “You needed our help. We’re the ones that got you out of that situation-”

“Hajime-”

“No Tooru! She doesn’t get to disappear behind everyone’s backs and tell us NOT to find her! Especially not us.” Tooru purses his lips, knowing that he’s right. Tooru would’ve thought that maybe after the first day or two you would contact them, allowing them to help, all things considered. He knows where Hajime is coming from and ultimately decides to let him continue. “She sure as fuck doesn’t get to tell us that we didn’t help either. I know damn well that once we all cool off you’re gonna have to apologize and admit to me that I was right.”

“That still doesn’t change the fact that you still decided to follow me.”  You're quick with your rebuttal. “I’m trying my best to protect you all-” A cackle catches you mid sentence, and you watch as Iwaizumi rests a hand over his face and laughs, shoulders shaking. “What? What’s so hilarious Hajime?”

“Do you really think that we need protecting?” His eyes peek through the cracks in his fingers, a sly smirk curling his lips.

“Maybe you don’t but the Port Mafia knows now that I’m involved with the agency. For the safety and protection of everyone I need to erase myself from their records and go away.” This is your retreat. You can feel your own arms wrap around your form and start rubbing slow circles into your sides. The more you think about it, the more you realize that you’re just pleading for them to live. Or pleading with them to leave you with the idea that they’ll be living a peaceful life without you.

“You do know who you’re talking about, right?” Iwaizumi takes his hand off of his face and glares at you. “You got Bokuto, who is an accidental genius; Sugawara and myself who act like human shields; Tanaka and Nishinoya who are the wildcards; Kenma and Asahi who can heal practically any injury and Kuroo, who can literally create a bomb if he has the right materials within his vicinity.” As he lists off the various members he sticks fingers up and counts. “I don’t think they need as much protection as you seem to think. I bet everyone’s losing their shit right now since you just walked out and now the three of us have been M.I.A. for almost a week.”

While he presents a pretty good argument, it feels like it just goes in one ear and out the other. Your only goal right now is to get them to understand that you don’t want them here. Anything you can do to save them is the top priority, and having them here with you is a fucking nuisance. “I don’t give a rat's ass about any of that! You and Torru have seen what the Port Mafia is capable of and there’s is nothing that is going to stop them from finding me! If that means blowing up the agency building, they will! You know Tendou will do anything and Washijo will just let him!”

“Y/N.” The desperation in your voice is becoming more apparent with each word as your sentences speed up and your tone gets higher and higher. Oikawa walks around the car and stands next to Hajime, taking your beat of silence as a cue to speak. “You know you can’t say that anymore. We haven’t been with them for years. Washijo might be too sick to even speak.”

“Plus everyone at the agency knows what this job entails.”

“You don’t get to talk Tetsuro.” He stands behind the two, and honestly your rage was so hyper focused on Oikawa and Iwaizumi that you forgot he was there. You snap at spit back. “It’s not a matter of knowing what they signed up for more than a problem of the Port Mafia doing whatever they want.”

“That’s why we’re here to help you.” Tooru still stands between you and the others, the mediator. “You know that we’ll do everything we can, everything you say, in order to protect them. Tendou didn’t just see you that night. Obviously he doesn’t care all that much about us but we’re on their records too so it’s not just your problem.”

“I can’t fucking do this right now.” It feels like no one is listening to you, just throwing water in the tank you’re already drowning in. With a sigh and balled fists, you come to a hasty decision. “You can all stay here tonight. I expect you to be gone by midday.” Without a chance to speak, you storm into the house and start preparing mats for them to sleep on.

Tooru runs his tongue over his teeth, lips shut and starts tapping his foot. There were a thousand different possibilities for how tonight could’ve gone - this being one that wasn’t on his radar. Hajime feels the frustration bubble over, but he knows there’s not much else he can say that will get to you. Focusing his attention on Tooru, he pats his shoulder and says, “She’s not gonna budge. C’mon.” The two walk into the house, following the lights and let you finish preparing their room.

Swiftly you finish fluffing the pillows and brushing past them, avoiding any contact, any chance for them to stop you. You slide open the door for the next room over and raid the closet, setting the room up for Kuroo.

“Y/N wait.” For one reason or another, you stop your actions and look to the aforementioned, him standing in the doorway. With a final push of your muscles, you throw the mat down on the floor and wait for what’s next. “I just wanted to say that- that I want to do everything I can to help you. I know it’s not much but Iwaizumi and Oikawa have been doing so much and I really think that-”

“Go to bed Kuroo. You guys are gonna have a long day making your way back into the city tomorrow, so you’re gonna need all the sleep you can get.” You shoulder check him, leaving the room and the yet to be unfurled bed mat on the floor.

In the late hours of the night you find yourself tossing and turning. The entirety of the past few hours replayed in your mind, every situation rewinds and restarts as you analyze the points that the guys made. You wouldn’t have lived through last night if it wasn’t for them. There’s no way in hell Tendou wouldn’t have gotten his hands on you if it wasn't for them.

You sit up, sweat dripping off of your brow bone and everything starts to feel like it’s closing in. The four walls around you feel like hands around your throat and your chest heaves. Throwing off the duvet you stand up and stretch, the small pops and clicks from your back. After a few moments you slide open the door and step into the hallway, heading to the kitchen to start a kettle.

Maybe you were being a little harsh on them earlier. Tendou was a real threat and only sought you out, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that whoever that boy was with him a few nights ago seemed to recognize you, Oikawa and Iwaizumi. They were there with you through thick and thin when you had to organize almost half of the mafia’s patrol cars, pickup sites and so much more. You went above and beyond to prove to that old fucking geezer that you deserved to be in your seat as an executive. Tooru and Hajime did nothing but support you, even after they discovered that you did in fact fake your death and worked as a detective in the same city they thought you abandoned. Even after that they still treated you like nothing happened.

The kettle whistles and you take it off the heat, trying your best to stay as quiet as possible in the early morning hours. Preparing a tea strainer and some leaves, you grab a mug and start to assemble everything. As the tea steeps, you open the back door and let the cool breeze engulf your body. 

The wood that covers the porch is cool to the touch, the soles of your feet uncomfortable, wanting to go back inside but you continue forward. The only things warming you under the cascade of stars is the mug between your hands and a blanket you placed around your shoulders. You venture off of the porch onto the soft moss that tickles your toes. Further into the trees is a small creek, in which you placed a few hardwood chairs.

No distractions, you allowed yourself to continue your train of thought from earlier. Once it fully settles in your consciousness that they are in their own right to want to be a part of this battle. Just as much was on the line for them as it was for you, and it never really hit until now. 

So what would happen if I let them stay?

This was the real kicker. And before you knew it, you were going through every possible scenario you could think of, listing the pros and cons of having a team to work with rather than only relying on yourself. 

The moon shifts throughout the night sky as you get up a few times to refill your cup, and before you know it rays of sunshine start to peer through the fog that settles under the canopy of leaves. With a new piping cup in your hands you resume the various tracks of different decisions. Inside, Kuroo slowly cracks open his eyes, the sunshine peeking through the blinds and the birds chirping. In the other room Iwaizumi sighs heavily and looks over Tooru. Shadows define his jaw and cheekbones, even accentuating the curve of his lips and the flutter of his lashes when he finally opens his eyes.

“G’morning.” Hajime’s voice is scratchy, his eyes red from the haziness that comes in the morning.

“Morning.” With a smile, they both take their time getting up and ready for the day. 

Kuroo straightens out his clothes (which he slept in) and walks out into the living room. He notes the kettle and jars of loose tea leaves on the counter, also noting that you’re nowhere to be seen. The door to your room is open as well, arousing his suspicion.

A glance passes between the two men as they each put back into their clothes. First it was Hajime trying to catch a glance at Tooru, and then vice versa just a few seconds later. They stumble around one another, pick dusting their cheeks but neither speaks.

A knock at the door interrupts their game of cat and mouse along with a voice. “Have you guys seen Y/N?”

Hajime finishes the buttons of his shirt and slides the door open. “No? She’s not here?” It’s like last night all over again, the panic bubbling in his chest.

“I haven’t seen her at all, and her room’s empty. I think she’s around since the car is still here and there’s stuff on the counter, I was just wondering if you guys heard or saw her?” Kuroo fidgets with his fingers, picking at the cuticles with his nail.

“You checked all the rooms?” Hajime takes command of the situation, stepping out of his room and into the living space.

“Yeah, all empty.” Kuroo follows him and Oikawa behind Kuroo.

“Well the back door is open, so…” Tooru nods towards the door although no one sees it.

Without another word the trio walk into the forest, taking in the scenery before them. Calm was the one word that came to mind. Branches crunch under their heels, alarming you to their presence. 

They can see your figure up just ahead and slow their roll. Kuroo stops in his tracks and just looks at you bathing in the golden sunlight, hair disheveled and eyes baggy once you finally turn and face them.

“Morning boys.” You sound and look tired, each of them knowing that you probably didn’t get any sleep at all but continue down the path to meet you. With a single gesture you get them to sit in the chairs beside you. You say nothing as you drink the cold tea - or what’s left of it at this point.

“What’s going on up there Y/N?” Oikawa pokes his temple and looks at you with the most sincere eyes. It’s not like the question wasn’t just on his mind, but the silence was starting to kill him.

“I did a lot of reflecting last night,” you start, setting the small cup onto the moss and straightening up. “For starters, I hope you all can forgive me for the way I treated you last night. It was unfair and I finally get that we’re all fighting for the same thing. You all have just as much reason to fight the Port Mafia as I do.” You make eye contact with each of them individually as you try to convey remorse. 

They each take it the same, knowing that adrenaline was high and that you meant the best for all of them. If anything, Hajime knows that the both of you will need to have a one on one conversation later to clear the air. 

“As for what I said last night,” you turn your eyes downward, knowing that you can’t bear to stare at their eager eyes, “I thought about it, and I want to take it all back. If you want, I could use the extra hands.”

Silence settles again, but Tooru doesn’t let it last long. He stands up from his chair and rushes over to give you a big hug. His arms encase you and he puts his head close to your shoulder. “Thank you.”

It catches you off guard, but tears build in your eyes. What did you ever do to deserve them? “Of course. I knew you guys weren’t gonna leave me alone once you knew where I've been hiding.”

“Damn straight.” Hajime joins the hug, placing his head on your other shoulder.

Kuroo stays in his seat and watches the scene unfold, not wanting to ruin a second reunion. He goes back to fiddling with his fingers and looking at the ground until the three of you break off from one another. You walk over to him and place a hand over his, preventing him from doing any more damage to his hands. Maneuvering them in a way to grasp one of his hands, he looks up at you, the rays of sunshine behind you, filling the forest.

Holding onto his rough hand and smiling down on him, you say “Let’s get to work.”