#YOU’D SEE THAT I NOTED THAT I SPECIFICALLY KEPT YOUR RANDOM LOGIC

[darthkruge]

Hello! Could you do an Anakin x reader where the reader is jealous of Padmé so goes on a walk through the night, and leaves a little trinket of hers so Ani doesn’t worry. She runs into a bounty hunter and Ani senses her danger through the force and saves her? Thanks 🥰

Anakin Skywalker x Reader ~ Jealousy and Rescues

Summary: Jedi!Reader gets themself in some trouble after going on a walk during the night and Anakin comes to their aid

Warnings: Angst, jealousy, torture (knives), blood, kidnapping, ends w/ fluff I promise

Words: 3.8k

A/N: Yess!! I loved writing this so much and I’m sorry it took me longer than I expected to get out. I think I went a bit angstier than your request implied but that’s where my brain was at today slfksjd! I am also rushing to post this so if there are some grammatical errors whoops

gif credit

After a few threats to the Senate, your boyfriend was assigned as Padme’s bodyguard. You knew, rationally, their relationship was strictly professional. He’d never be disloyal towards you and you did trust him. There was nothing for you to worry about. Or, at least, that’s what you repeatedly told yourself as you saw them walking and laughing together. 

Being in a secret relationship is difficult, you wouldn’t deny. Especially when your boyfriend was one of the most attractive and charming men in the entire galaxy. You would see people flirt with him constantly and there was nothing you could do without jeopardizing both of your careers as Jedi. 

You played with the necklace he had given you when you spent your first Life Day together all those years ago. Your home planet on one side, Coruscant on the other, symbolizing your past and your future -- your future with Anakin. It always calmed you; it was something you could hold and feel in public, a reminder of the realness of your hidden romance. 

You let out a sigh, dropping the pendant as you tried to shake off the unease you felt as you watched them interact. It mostly worked, too. When you remembered all Anakin had done for you, the intense moments of happiness and love you’d shared, you never felt more secure. But for some reason, as you saw Anakin lean down so Padme could whisper something in his ear, that anxious and guilty warmth ran through your veins.

You hated feeling jealous. It didn’t matter that you logically knew you had nothing to fear, the emotion remained. It embarrassed you, making you feel childish and small. It made you want to crawl out of your skin and hide away, yet simultaneously run up to Anakin and beg him for reassurance. It made you hate Padme, a woman so kind you cursed yourself for feeling that way. It made your mind run wild, conconting torturous scenarios that made your insecurities flair. 

Even though it brought you pain to watch, you had to expend great energy to tear your eyes away from them. You returned to your apartment, waiting for Anakin’s shift to be over. All you wanted was some time alone with him, to hear him tell you how much he loved you, to feel his arms around you and lips against yours. To hear him gently laugh as he picks up on your jealousy and mumble reassurances into your ear. You awaited his beautiful words that would evidently overtake your thoughts and leave you feeling secure and peaceful. 

Letting your brain run for a while, you felt yourself unconsciously picking at your fingernails and playing with your hair, doing anything to keep yourself busy. You jumped as C3PO entered your room, too lost in thought to register anyone’s presence. 

“I apologize Master L/N, but Master Skywalker instructed me to inform you that he will be working late this evening.”

You felt your heart start to pound as your eyes grew heavy with tears. “Threepio, what do you mean? Did he tell you why?”

“Senator Padme has to go to a special dinner this evening to meet with the leaders of some other planets and he must accompany her.”

“Oh.”

C3PO walked closer to you. “Are you alright, Master L/N? Should I call for Master Anakin?”

You shook your head, quickly wiping the tears from your eyes. “I’m fine, thank you.” You said, trying to keep your voice as even and happy as you possibly could. 

The droid exited your apartment as you walked onto the balcony, the cold air hitting your cheeks and quelling the hot embarrassment that flowed through you. There is nothing to worry about, you rationalized. These dinners are formalities, Padme goes to them all the time! And Anakin is just her bodyguard, he would never cheat on you! 

Even as you thought the words, you felt frustratingly unconvinced. You decided to go for a walk, the silence in the apartment that your boyfriend was supposed to be back at driving you mad. Even so, you didn’t want him to worry on the off chance he returned home before you. Sighing, you slid the necklace off and placed it on the nightstand, quickly scribbling a note that read “on a walk, be home soon.”

You pulled your Jedi robes closer around you as you walked the Coruscant streets. You had no particular destination in mind, nor did you know how long you intended to be gone for. You let your body drive you, walking around as if in a haze while using all your energy to expel the thoughts from your mind. You made random turns, walking in various directions until you felt yourself calm. 

You looked up and to your left and smiled as you saw your apartment. Anakin. You smiled to yourself and shook your head at your foolishness. You didn’t know why you’d gotten so worked up over his and Padme’s relationship; at the end of the day, he would always return home. 

 Perhaps this was why you weren’t paying attention. Or maybe it was the way you were focussed on  Anakin’s force signature, honing in on him and letting the rest of the world fade away. It could have been your exhaustion, emotionally drained for the day. Whatever the reason, you were unprepared when a dark figure jumped out of the shadows and stunned you. All you knew was that one minute you were on your way home to him and the next you were surrounded by darkness as the ground quickly caught up to you.

Anakin rushed out of dinner, feeling quite guilty for leaving you alone all day. He hated working late, especially during the few times you and him were both on Coruscant. Frequently, your missions kept you apart and, thus, the days where you were home together were sacred. He reached out to you, surprised to not feel your force signature in the apartment. 

He opened the door and was met with a darkness and stillness that immediately set him off. He pulled out his lightsaber but was careful not to ignite it just yet. He looked around and came upon your note and necklace and relief flowed through him. However, he couldn’t shake the sense that something was off. The words in your note felt clipped and cold and he knew you must not have been happy to hear he was running late. 

He walked to the balcony, trying to see you but quickly realizing the futility of the plan. He paced in the apartment, reaching out farther with the Force. Although he hadn’t completely found you, Anakin’s blood ran cold as he sensed with overwhelming clarity that you were in danger. You wouldn’t have lied to him about your whereabouts so he knew you were on foot and, thus, couldn’t have gone too far. All he hoped was that he found you quickly and wasn't too late. 

You groaned, already knowing what had happened. The Council already briefed the Jedi that there was an uptick in bounty hunters throughout the galaxy, specifically those targeting the Jedi order. You couldn’t believe you were stupid enough to walk around, unnattentive, through alleyways, at night. The bounty hunter came into your cell and pulled off her mask. Her features were sharp, her face hardened. You looked into her eyes and were met with a predatory gaze. 

“What are you going to do with me?” You almost didn’t want her to answer. 

The woman simply laughed. “Kill you, of course. But why not have a little fun first? I bet you’d look so nice begging for mercy.”

“I’ll die before I beg for anything from you.” You spat.

“I’m sure I can accommodate both of those things, sweetheart.” With that, she grabbed a knife and plunged it into your foot, anchoring it to the floor. 

You bit your lip, tasting blood as you tried not to scream. You clenched your fists, your hands shackled above your head. Your foot felt hot, the crimson blood running down its sides. Just as the pain began to numb, the woman pulled out another blade and slowly cut the bottom of your other foot. 

You screwed your eyes shut, desperately trying not to give in. She laughed at your feeble attempts before bringing the knife down. The force she used pierced through both muscle and bone and you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out an involuntary cry.

Your brain was a muddled mess, tears leaking down your face as you willed your pained whimpers to die in your throat. She cut through your pants and into your thighs. With each line she carved, you felt more and more helpless. She made her incisions deep and languidly, as if pulling every ounce of blood from your body. You tried to squirm away from the blade but the twisting movements made the knives dig even deeper into your feet. 

You tried to reach for Anakin, for some reminder that there was peace waiting for you if you could only hold out through this. You faintly felt his force signature. He’s still out there. He’ll come for me, I know he will.

“Ready to beg yet, Jedi?” She cooed, the tip of her knife under your chin, forcing you to meet her eyes. 

Your gaze hardened as you thought of him. She would never take you from him, nothing could tear you and Anakin apart. Your determination remained. She’s not going to break me.

“Never.” Even as the tears ran down your cheeks, even as you felt your grip on the world weakening, you’d never meant a word more than that. 

“We’ll see about that.”

You cried out as her knife cut across your cheek. The sharp sting from the newer and shallower cuts  combined with the throbbing ache in your legs and feet. The sensation and blood loss made you dizzy. Even so, you forced yourself to remain conscious. You’d get through this, you had to. 

Anakin drove his speeder through Coruscant, following a combination of his instincts and the Force to track you down. Every minute, he felt your fear and pain intensify through your Force bond and he grew more and more desperate. By now, he knew you must have been taken by a bounty hunter, there was no other explanation. However, he was occasionally met with a spark of determination and defiance.

He smiled. Whoever had you might be causing you pain, but you definitely weren’t an easy capture. Pride filled him as he thought of your strength. You’d get through this, you had to. Hang on, Y/N, just a little while longer.

The bounty hunter had left the room a few minutes ago, probably frustrated of waiting for you to give in. She’d moved onto cutting through your shirt, your stomach and chest now littered with deep, red, lines. It hurt to breathe, every movement tugging at one of the gashes and causing more blood to ooze out. You were honestly surprised there was still blood left in you to give, as your head felt light and body heavy.

You were so weak, so dizzy that you couldn’t support your own weight anymore, even sitting down. Your head hung down, lolling unimpressively as your neck refused to cooperate. Your mind was swimming and you were delirious, half-convinced you were already dead. 

“Y/N!” 

You used all your energy to lift your head, meeting a pair of beautiful blue eyes that you would recognize anywhere. 

“Anakin,” You breathed out. “Anakin please, help me.” 

“Shh, it’s okay.” He knelt down beside you and you looked at him, immeasurable relief coursing through you. 

He put his hand gently to your cheek, careful to avoid your cuts. “Hold on, Y/N.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, confused. “Why aren’t you helping me?”

“Hold on.” The whisper of Anakin’s voice remained in the air as his figure melted away. You screamed in agony, despair clutching at your soul. You desperately looked around, willing the hallucination back to you. Even if it was a cruel trick your fatigued, weak, blood-loss ridden mind created, you wanted him back. 

“Please, Anakin, please come back to me!” You cried. You sobbed, the pain of losing him in any form impossible for you to bear. 

You begged and begged and begged, trying to will him back to you. You screamed and thrashed until your hands wore raw against your restraints, until your cuts had reopened, until your throat was sore and your eyes burned from crying. 

You whimpered out one final plea before your eyes fluttered shut, the fight completely drained from your soul.

Anakin’s heart pounded. He could feel you slipping away, your determination slowly fizzing out. He couldn’t blame you; these bounty hunters were notorious for their torture, for leaving their victims as broken shells before they were killed. He forced the image out of his mind, refusing to think of you in that position. 

Finally, he made it to an abandoned building on the edge of Coruscant. The Force had guided him here and he felt you strongly, or as strongly as he could given your broken state. He jumped out of the speeder and saw a woman twirling a knife, leaning against a wall. 

Igniting the lightsaber, he walked up to her.

“Anakin, I presume?” 

He froze but quickly regained his composure, eyeing her and trying to figure out what her motives were. 

“Don’t fret, young Jedi. They were just calling for you. Quite pathetic if you ask me.”

“If you hurt them I swear-”

The bounty hunter’s lips curled into a bone chilling smile, giving Anakin all the answers he needed. He swung his lightsaber, deflecting her blaster shots with ease. She pulled out two knives and threw one at his middle, making Anakin jump to the side to escape the blade. 

Anakin twirled the saber, once again trying to get traction. She was quick, swinging herself up onto the room of the building by flipping backwards from the balcony. He, however, was quicker. Anakin jumped up gracefully, continuing to spin his weapon and stalk her in this intense, choreographed dance they were engaged in. 

The woman sent her other knife flying at Anakin’s neck and he used his trained reflexes to catch the hilt right before it cut through his skin. Now, it was his turn to smile. He watched as her expression faltered, paying attention to her footing to sense her next move. He followed her, catching up quickly before running the blade through her, barely waiting for her body to drop before bounding off the roof and into the building to find you.

His breath caught as he took you in. Your unconscious body was limp and blood was seeping out of you. He grimaced, seeing the blades running through your feet. As much as he didn’t want you to lose more blood, he needed to remove the knives in order to carry you out of here. Your flesh squelched as he pulled the blade out as evenly as he could and a low whimper escaped your throat. 

“Y/N, Y/N can you hear me?”

“No, no, no, no, no, please, not again!”

“Angel it’s alright, I’m not gonna hurt you.” Anakin said, moving to meet your eyes.

“You’re not- this isn’t- no!” You tried to pull yourself away from him, unable to watch this hallucination falter. 

“Y/N, please, let me help you. I need to get you out of here before you lose any more blood.”

“This isn’t real!” You screamed. “Please, stop, this isn’t real! You’re not here, you’re not here, you’re gone, I’m gone, it’s not-” You continued to spew unintelligible words, tears already bubbling up in your throat. 

Anakin caught on to what was happening. “Angel, look at me. I promise I’m here. I’m real, okay? Please believe me.”

“I can’t!” You sobbed. “I can’t let myself hope again!”

“Y/N, okay, okay. Remember that necklace I gave you? It had your home on one side and ours on the other. You left it for me, a token to prove that you were safe when you went for a walk. I think you were angry with me; I was working late because I was guarding Padme, remember? It’s me, I promise. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Despite yourself, you believed him. “Ani.” You said softly, tears coming to your eyes as you allowed yourself to have faith that you would be alright. 

“Yes, my love, it’s Anakin. I need you to be still for me, okay? It’s going to hurt but I need to get us home.”

You nodded, cries escaping you as he pulled the second knife from your foot. Your vision went white, the pain profound. Anakin gently hushed you, hand smoothing down your thigh to comfort you as he worked. He went to your restraints next, releasing your hands and watching as they fell heavily. He caught your body as it wrenched forward, making you gasp as the cuts on your chest came in contact with him.

Anakin apologized quickly, pulling off his robe and wrapping it around your body, your cut clothing offering almost no protection from the cold, nighttime air. He also wanted to help you as your body was clearly going into shock from the trauma.

Anakin placed you in his lap, holding you to him with one hand and driving with the other. For anyone less talented at riding a speeder it would have been precarious. You weakly wrapped your arms around him, too, as best as you could. 

You were in and out of consciousness the whole way back, barely registering how Anakin pulled you up and into his arms, the sway of his walking faster and more desperate than usual. He went into medbay, placing you gingerly on a bed and calling over a medical droid to determine the extent of your injuries.

Noting how empty it was, Anakin took the risk and held your hand. He knew it was dangerous, the fear of getting caught weighing constantly on both your minds. But after he almost lost you, nothing else mattered. 

The droids informed him that you had lost a severe amount of blood, but the cuts themself should heal with time. He breathed a sigh of relief as he realized you would be fine. Anakin begged them to let him take you back to your room, saying that the trauma from the torture would only grow worse if you woke up in an unknown environment. 

They allowed, so long as he made sure you were supervised and rested for at least the next week. He agreed hurriedly before scooping you back up. You groaned at the movement and he whispered a quick apology, trying to get you into your bed as soon as possible. 

He set you down, resting your back against the pillows just as you liked. You were all bandaged up and looked so fragile in your current state, a far cry from what he was used to. He hated it. You were such a skilled Jedi, he sometimes forgot that you were vulnerable, too, and this reality check was immensely painful. 

He watched over you as you slept, refusing to move for hours. Finally, your eyes opened and  you  looked at him blearily. 

“Hi.” You croaked out. 

Anakin’s eyes snapped up to yours, gently laughing from the relief of hearing your voice and its gravelly tone. He floated the cup of water by your nightstand to your mouth while using his other hand to brace your neck, coaxing you into a sitting position so you could easily swallow the liquid.

You hummed your thanks as he slowly set you against the pillows. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to you sooner, I should have told the Council I couldn’t do the extra meeting and just come home.”

“No, Anakin, it was your job, I shouldn’t have been upset. I was just jealous, I guess. I saw you and Padme together and,” You trailed off. It felt so unbelievably stupid now. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have left, I shouldn’t have been so careless.”

Anakin’s eyes were understanding. “It’s okay, my love. But you have absolutely nothing to worry about. The only reason I was with Padme for dinner was because the Council assigned me to. No one could make me willingly skip dinner or anything else with you.”

“I know” You said sheepishly.

“I love you, angel. No one even comes close. I promise, I’ll never leave you.”

“I love you too, Ani.” 

He carefully connected his lips with yours, hyper aware of your injuries and not wanting to cause you  any more pain than you’ve already been through. 

“Lie with me?”

Anakin nods as you scoot over. He climbs into bed and allows you to situate yourself. You eventually find a position that doesn’t put strain on your cuts and bruises and you smile, leaning your head against his chest. He gingerly puts his flesh hand around your back, looking at you to see if it’s okay. You nod reassuringly and Anakin lets his arm rest there, fingers gently running through your hair.

“I was so scared, Anakin. I thought I’d never see you again.” You say, breaking the silence.

He looks at you, silently encouraging you to go on, if you so wanted.

“I hallucinated you, you know? I thought you’d come for me. But you told me to hold on and then you disappeared.” Your voice was barely a whisper at the end, tears leaking onto his chest. 

“I’m so sorry.” Those words were all he could give. He spoke them with such meaning and love that you melted. None of this was his fault.

“I love you.” You replied, your words carrying the same intensity as his. 

Anakin brought his metal arm around, too, to further hold you to him. 

“You’re never going to lose me, okay? I will always come for you, I will always protect you. With everything I am, I will always love you.” 

“I know.” Your voice was loving and soft, exhaustion once again pulling at you.

He kissed the top of your head. “Get some sleep, Y/N. You’ll need a lot of it.”

“Hmm?” You questioned tiredly

“They assigned you to at least a week of complete rest.”

“What?!”

“Shhhh, go to sleep, angel.” Anakin chuckled. 

You huffed but nuzzled closer to him. You were too drained to fight it and too happy to finally be back in his arms. Nothing could ruin the moment.

----

if you would like to join my taglist, the link to do so is on my pinned! please dm me if you would like to be taken off. if your username is crossed off, that’s because for some reason i couldn’t tag you. <3

general tags:

@saltybreaddream @buckysbeloved @lolquarth

anakin tags:

@anakinswhore @kennedywxlsh @coldlilheart @adamgetawaydriver @chokemeanakin @gayidioot @starwars-whore @katelynnwrites @haydens-moles @serpntines @anakinlove @rowley-with-ackerman @dexthtoyounglings @babykinskywalker @cluelessgurl @april-showers-and-flowers @ungodiys @beiroviski @captainshazamerica @alyssa-skywalker @artiza-n

[bratkook]

eleven months. (m) myg. two.

masterlist.

pairing: min yoongi x reader genre: fluff, slow burn!!!, eventual smut, warnings: brief non-descriptive mention of death, otherwise none word count: 7k author’s note: here’s some more backstory on both of them as well as more interaction beyond yoongi hunting down an album by the cure lmao. like i said before, i’m really soft for yoongi in this story so lmk what you think! (also..because i hate myself and love piling up wips, theres mention of oc having a previous love interest that’s actually part of another story that takes place in this universe that’s a prequel soooo...coming soon lol) taglist (open): @min-yus​ summary: it’s been years of yoongi living his routine life, accustomed to his pace of living, going with the flow and simply existing. until you come along. yoongi absolutely can not see the logic in the way you live, but he weirdly craves it. craves the feeling of not being afraid of not knowing what’s coming, being able to just let the cards fall wherever they land. and maybe you can help with that.

In the next coming weeks it becomes obvious that Yoongi is in fact a regular. His routine visits allow you to remember the usual days and times he’d pop in, so you knew if you’d be working on his chosen days. 

Somewhere in between his casual drop ins, the two of you had formed somewhat of a friendship— or the beginning stages of one at least. Yoongi liked your sense of humor, how open and friendly you were to anyone you encountered, always having something to say about anything. Conversation came easy to you, never running out of stories. It left Yoongi thinking you’ve definitely lived about ten lifetimes compared to him.

In turn, you liked how he let you steer the conversation any way you chose. Most people would probably watch on in horror at the way you’d go from talking about a specific song or band, and then switching to a story about how you chased a pickpocketer during your travels before moving on to talking about your roommate’s cat. None of it gave him whiplash though, seamlessly flowing into the next topic with a grin on his face, never feeling like he had to think too hard to keep it going. It worked best this way. Yoongi was observant by nature, a great listener above it all, so if you were the one doing most of the talking it was fine by him. 

Everyone at Rkive360 had taken notice that Yoongi’s usual five minute visits had turned into ten, and then twenty, until it became very clear he was lingering inside the store. No one told him anything, besides the fact that he was bestfriends with the owner and had immunity, all of you were fond of him. Taehyung enjoyed the sly remarks Yoongi would make, Sana just enjoyed ogling at him, Namjoon would never mind seeing him, and you would take any chance you could to attempt to wow him with your small knowledge of music. 

It was a nice distraction whenever he stopped by, always heading straight to the back where the vinyl was kept. Sometimes he had a specific album in mind, other times he was simply browsing, but he only ever bought one at a time. It was routine, maybe even a weird ritual of sorts if he really thought about it. 

On the days you knew he’d be coming you would spend a little extra time in the beginning of your shift picking out a few records to suggest to him if he didn’t have one in mind. Because of this, he had stopped his usual path to the bins and now came directly to you, the first stray off his usual routine. 

Today you’re standing behind the counter, ringing up a customer when he walks in, a smile on your face as you chat away. He patiently waits at the far corner, leaning back against it as his eyes roamed the interior of the store, taking note of the way Sana and Taehyung were trying and failing to build a giant display. It looks like a mess of parts, scattered around with no instruction manual in sight— definitely Taehyung’s idea to toss it judging by Sana’s look of frustration. 

He tears his gaze away from them beginning to argue when he hears you wish the customer a good day as they leave, pushing away from the counter and shuffling your way with a grin on his face. You smile back at the way his doughy cheeks push out, high points of them reflecting the light from above. 

“Any shirt facts of the day?”

That had also become another common occurrence. Whenever you decided to wear a band shirt, he somehow always had random facts about whoever it was. It didn’t matter if it was some obscure french band or a 90’s rapper, Yoongi knew something about everyone, like some walking encyclopedia of musical artists. So when you take a step away and spread your arms out, he sees your shirt of choice today is The Doors, and he scoffs. Too easy.

“The Doors were the first band to ever advertise a new album on a billboard.” He nods his head slowly, almost as if he’s telling you yes I know, amazing right?

A hum leaves your lips at his fun fact, slightly impressed by it. “Interesting. Like always, I did not know that.” You peek under the counter top at the selection of records you kept stowed away for him, safe from any undeserving customers. “Now, do you want to see my daily, hand picked selection just for you.”

This was his new favorite pastime, getting to see the random albums you’d group together for him, wanting to know what you thought was worthy for him to listen to. When he nods, rubbing his hands together in excitement, you haul up the stack and carefully spread them out across the top.

The genre of the day was R&B, he can tell that much as he sorts through the albums. You’re familiar with the way he clumps together certain records, marking them down as albums he already owns, until he gets to an orange colored cover. The words The Internet fill the top right corner along with Ego Death on the bottom left. This he had never heard before. He picks it up and flips it over, scanning the song names with interest.

His eyes raise up to yours with curiosity, the same sharp gaze that somehow still makes you nervous holds the obvious question being passed between you with no need for words: are they any good? And the way you nod your head immediately convinces him enough. “Alright, I’ll give them a shot.”

A small sense of pride fills your chest, a tiny victory whenever he decides to pick something from your stack, trusting whatever music knowledge you had somehow convinced him you have. “I promise you’ll love them.”

When you hand him his change and the brown paper bag, you immediately check the time and clock out, dipping back under the counter and grabbing your bag from its hidden spot.

“Are you off?” Yoongi finds himself asking, no longer used to leaving immediately after he purchased something. The usual fifteen minute conversation you two had was missing today, and he’s not too sure how he feels about that. 

“Yes I am, you were my last customer. The store will now be run by those two heathens. Here’s to hoping they don’t bite each others heads off while they finish building whatever the fuck that is.” Taehyung is now standing up, lazily holding up a part of the display as Sana tries to screw something together, angrily giving Taehyung commands but he only mimics her with a ridiculous face. And when she socks his thigh, her fist aiming a little too close to home, you let out a laugh.

Yoongi highly doubts that’s going to be possible, Namjoon would probably have to be the one left to finish building the display while also putting them on opposite sides of the store whenever he came in for the day. It was truly a shock that they had gone this long working together without an actual fist fight breaking out. If it came down to it, Yoongi had his money on Sana being able to whoop Tae’s ass. 

“Do you know any good take out spots nearby? I’m starving and I’m still new to the area so I’ll take any recommendations.” Your voice snaps him back, his eyes looking at you briefly as the question registers within him.

“Oh, yeah. There’s a place not too far from here that has pretty good jajangmyeon.”

“Hell yeah.” Your hands pat your belly softly, coming up to readjust your bag as you walk around the counter and head for the door, shouting out a goodbye to Taehyung and Sana as you leave the store. When you exit the shop, your hand holding the door open behind you, you glance back inside in confusion when you spot Yoongi still standing by the counter with wide eyes. “Well, aren’t you coming?”

Truth be told, he had been wanting to talk to you outside of work for a while but he was scared to ask, not wanting to make you feel obligated to say yes just because he was a regular at your place of employment. Something about you seemed familiar to him, and to be quite honest he just craved social intimacy. His job consumed him and coming into this record shop was the small escape he needed, you being there was just a newly added plus.

You’re on the same page he is, wanting to hang out with him just as much as he had, something about the way he seemed like a half open book interested you. Throughout all of your adventures you had forced yourself to come out of your shell, no longer afraid or bashful when it came to initiating friendships. If you wanted to get to know someone better, then you’d bite first. And you definitely wanted to get to know Yoongi better.

It takes him a moment to react, his gaze switching from you to look back over at your coworkers, seeing Sana sending you a curious glance. Yoongi was about to attempt to muster up the courage to ask you to hang out and you beat him to the punch, but after a second he grins at you with a nod. Of course he was coming.

The weather in Seoul is forgiving today, the usual cold of autumn being prevalent in the air without the need to bundle up, the slight wind not stinging your skin as it blows around you. This was probably your favorite season, comfortable enough for you to do whatever you want without feeling restricted by heavy layers or sticky from the heat. 

A soft smile is on your lips, hands shoved into the pockets of your baggy cardigan, and a small pep in your step as your eyes take in the world around you. That feeling you get when you visit a new town on vacation, how you’re just passing through for a brief moment in a place so many call home, it makes you realize how small you actually are. 

It’s a feeling you always longed for, to experience a new place and make it home, it's the main reason you always bounced around so much. Staring at all the shops around you, taking in all the people just going about their daily life, you’re content with your new choice of scenery. 

Too lost in your own head as you take in the shops and people around you, you snap out of it when Yoongi reaches out and clasps a hand on your shoulder, steering you to turn right when you keep walking straight. “Get your head out of the clouds.” 

He hears the snort you let out, allowing him to guide you the correct way. Slowly trailing away from the main road, the amount of people lessens, only a handful of stores line up around the alley you had turned into. When you spare a glance at Yoongi you can see the excitement on his face, speeding up his pace until he’s standing in front of the restaurant. It’s a small hole in the wall shop that didn’t even look like it served food from the outside, all black exterior with a red sign hung up on top showcasing their name, Ipum.

It’s charming, and the way Yoongi spreads his arm out puts a similar smile on your face. Only then does he pull open the door, allowing you to step in first before he follows. 

Once Yoongi steps inside he’s immediately greeted by the workers calling out his name in glee, bowing in response with a bashful smile as he approaches the small counter set up for take out orders, not needing to read the menu. You don’t realize he’s waiting for you as you take in the interior of the restaurant, the red dining tables surprisingly packed despite their lack of advertising outside. This place really must be as good as Yoongi promised.

“Anything specific you want?” he asks, finger pointing to the small menu in his hand in case you needed it. When you shake your head, letting him know he can order anything he wants, he does exactly that, placing two orders of jajangmyeon, along with fried dumplings and sweet and sour pork to complete it. It was his go to choices whenever he came, so he hopes you’ll enjoy it as much as he does. 

As you step to the side, backs pressed against the wall closest to the counter in order to keep the space open for the workers and patrons to walk comfortably in the small shop, you turn your head to glance at Yoongi again. “You come here often?”

The way the workers had spoken to him had made that glaringly obvious, but you wanted to hear it from him, wanted to know if he came here for comfort food or some other weird tradition like his ‘one-vinyl-a-day’ way of life. 

It was sort of a habit he had fallen into years ago. Having grown up in this city his whole life, he had stumbled upon this place his last year of high school. It had become a staple soon after, a place he would come to directly after classes were done to come stuff his face before heading home. Then it became a place his girlfriend and him frequented when the apartment they moved into turned out to be a mere block away. 

In a way, the owners of this shop had become like a second family. The amount of times they’ve seen Yoongi at his best and worst throughout the years, never once throwing judgment his way even if he came in beyond plastered back in the years he used to drink, never turning him away even if he cried into his noodles. 

He decides that’s a little too much to unpack right now, so he just nods in confirmation. “Yeah, I’ve been coming here for years. One taste of their noodles and you’ll be hooked too, trust me.”

Oh you trusted him, the amount of plates you’ve seen so far just made your mouth water once they passed by you and the smell of the food reached your nose. “We should’ve just sat down, I’m not gonna be able to wait until I get home to eat this.”

As you say this one of the workers approaches you two with a tied up plastic bag in his hand, the inside stuffed with takeout boxes and utensils for you to take. Yoongi grasps the bag with a smile and thanks him as he walks away. “Don’t worry, I live like a block away.”

He realizes how his words could be taken immediately, how he had assumed you two would innocently go back to his place to share a meal. You had invited him to eat but the location of where you would be doing so had not been discussed and the last thing he wanted was to come across as a sleaze.

His mouth was ready to back track completely, until he sees the way you dramatically place your hand over your chest, and he knows it's too late, “Oh damn, your place? Saucy, but I’m starving so I’ll do almost anything.”

You can see the way he relaxes when he notices you aren’t being serious, taking his words lightly the way he intended them. His eyes roll behind his lids, a lazy smile gracing his lips as he shoves your shoulder lightly to get you to start walking. 

“Is jajangmyeon all it takes?”

“Slow your roll, good jajangmyeon is all it takes. I’ve yet to have a taste.”

Yoongi smiles at your words, taking the lead when you step out of the shop and turn back down towards the main street. His apartment was on the next block over, a short walk that you didn’t mind, especially since he took it upon himself to point at random stores you passed to let you know the best places to get what.

He has a lot of love for this city, the memories it possesses spread out through his entire childhood and early adult years, lingering in each crack on the sidewalk. He often sits and wonders how different his life would be if his parents had decided to move to Busan instead of Seoul, or stayed in Daegu altogether. The thought of the timeline of his life being altered so drastically to the point of possibly not being able to be living this moment sends his mind into a flurry, so he's grateful you’ve reached his front door now as his mind settles.

“Oh my god who’s this?” You coo as you step into his apartment, crouching down towards the white stone floors to pet the fluffy gray cat that greeted you, enjoying the way it purred and rubbed against your knee.

“That's Yuri, the queen of the house.” He steps away from you, setting the plastic bag on top of the kitchen counter a few feet away, his hands pulling out the containers and setting them down. “Don’t give her too much attention or she’ll never let you leave.”

Yuri glances up at you, her bright green eyes peering up innocently at Yoongi’s words, almost as if she was pleading for you to keep petting her. It doesn’t take much convincing for you to scoop your hands under her and press her against your chest as you stand up, your fingers gently scratching the top of her head. Yoongi lets out a sigh when he sees his cat has succeeded in wrapping you around her finger.

“Sorry, she’s too cute to not cuddle with.”

She nuzzles into your chest, purring in appreciation when your fingers trail down onto her spine. Yoongi watches you as he pops open the lid of the container that holds the noodles. Yuri is his baby, yet every time a new person comes into his place she acts like he doesn’t exist— well not until he pops open the container holding the sweet and sour pork. That's when her head pops up, her green eyes sharpening when she spots the food, and Yoongi glares back at the fluffy traitor.

When Yuri's fluffy body shakes slightly as you laugh Yoongi glances back at you, breaking up the staring contest he had going with his cat. “She’s gonna betray your love right now for some pork.” 

You don’t doubt him, not with the way her paws start to push at your arms, attempting to stand up in your embrace until she’s hopping off from your arms and slowly walking towards Yoongi. She’s absolutely shameless as she rubs her body against his legs, and Yoongi can only look down at her before staring back up at you, gesturing out with his hands. “You see?”

The act of betrayal doesn’t sting, not when she’s as cute as she is. Instead you just chuckle, walking towards the stools Yoongi has by the oversized kitchen island, a breakfast bar set up at the end, the food spread out on top of it. He ignores Yuri for the time being, pulling out the stool beside yours and sliding into it. The both of you pull your chopsticks apart and get to eating instantly, swirling the noodles until they’re evenly coated in the sauce.

You try to ignore the way Yoongi blatantly stares at you as you bring up the first clump of noodles, waiting to see what your initial reaction would be to the food he held so near and dear to his heart. Yoongi knows this could go south so quickly, there is nothing worse than trying something new when you’re starving and having it absolutely suck. Sensing his nerves, you slurp the noodles up, and when the salty taste hits your tongue you hum, chewing them thoughtfully to make a show for Yoongi.

“Verdict?”

He waits patiently for you to swallow, sharp eyes analyzing your expression, seeing you lick your lips and grin at him. “You weren’t lying, definitely some of the best jajangmyeon I’ve had.”

In pure dramatics, he practically sags in his seat and raises a fist into the air in success, being able to properly enjoy his food now that he knew you approved of it. The two of you begin to eat in relative silence, the sound of munching and slurping filling up his kitchen space. 

As the minutes go by, the back and forth of your chopsticks plucking out a dumpling after he did, lands with you snatching the last one. An evil cackle leaving you as you pop it into your mouth and grin at him, cheeks puffed out slightly and he can’t find it in himself to be irked at you snatching the last dumpling when you looked like that.

The compromise of that is you leaving the remaining pieces of pork for him to enjoy, and when Yuri gracefully hops onto the counter you see why he had suggested that. He grasps a tiny piece of pork on his chopsticks and feeds her like a parent would a toddler, airplane noise and all until Yuri opens wide and gently clamps down on the meat.

“She’s spoiled because of you.”

He merely shrugs, a giant smile spreading across his face as he watches her with adoration as she chews the food. “I refuse to confirm or deny that.”

As you finish up the last of your food you just watch on as Yoongi alternates between feeding himself and Yuri until no more pork remains. Seeing the soft way he acts with his cat just warms you up, Yoongi had always seemed like a blunt person from the times you’ve seen him at the store, his sense of humor is one that could easily be taken as harsh or cold if you didn’t match it, but you’d never expect to see him this way. The tops of his cheeks push out as he smiles at his cat, cupping her face between his hands and rocking it back and forth before planting a kiss on her forehead.

She seems to understand that that's her cue to hop off the counter, knowing that snack time is now over as Yoongi starts to clean up the empty containers. When you reach to clean your own mess up he’s quick to slap your hands away, smirking when you retract them with a small wince, your fingers rubbing the back of your palm that he had swatted with a pair of chopsticks.

“Shoo.” He waves his arm in the direction of his couch, not giving you another glance and missing the way you pout at how he had dismissed you like he would his cat.

With a huff you turn on your heel, properly taking in his living room. From the small tidbits of half truthful information that Taehyung had provided you with, you knew Yoongi was somebody in the music industry. You had always assumed that when people said that it meant struggling soundcloud rapper or something of the sort, but from the look of his apartment alone it was very evident that Yoongi was not a struggling soundcloud rapper. 

The wall of his living room was lined with floor to ceiling windows, letting you catch a glimpse of the cityscape down below, the darkening horizon and slowly flickering street lights blending together. A dark grey couch was on the wall adjacent to that, directly facing the entertainment center he had set up, complete with a massive mounted television and soundbar, a collection of DVDs organized in the storage unit below it.

You walk closer to it, catching sight of the picture frames he had displayed along the top of it. They were all simple black frames, all differing in size, all of them having photos of Yoongi and his friends on them. The one in particular that had you smiling was a photo booth picture with Yoongi and Namjoon, they were accompanied by three other people, a boy with slightly red tinged hair and a bright smile, another boy with dark brown hair and a slight pout on his face from Namjoon squishing his cheeks, and a girl with light brown hair smiling widely as Yoongi gave her bunny ears.

Namjoon was a very smiley person, never needing a reason to be, but seeing Yoongi sporting a massive gummy smile had you realizing how nicely a smile suited him. It was clear that he held this group of people near to his heart considering they all occupied the remaining photos as well.

A couple of steps right beside that was where he had his prized possession, his record player that he had fully customized to get him the desired sound he was looking for. It was a sleek black, accents of silver shining off of it, resting pretty on a dark stained wooden stand. A few of his records were stored beneath it, but what really caught your eye was the eight by eight makeshift gallery wall that showcased his current favorite LP’s, each individually shelved to show the album art in all its glory.

“Should I give this a listen with you here?”

His question has you turning your head towards him, cutting your admiration of the album covers short. He stood a few feet away, his hands holding up the orange cover of the album he had bought today with your suggestion, and a small sense of nerves bubbles up in your stomach for some reason. You had always suggested music, confident in your choices when you were in the safety of the record store, but having to witness his first impression made you a little uneasy. What if he hated the band entirely, or worse, what if he pretended he didn’t hate them just to soothe your ego.

Is this what he felt like watching you take your first bite of food earlier?

“Sure,” you choke out, taking a giant step back from his record player, hearing him chuckle at your odd behavior.

As he lifts the cover up and slides the giant record out of its sleeve you decide to go sit on the couch, sinking into the plush material and welcoming Yuri into your lap when she jumps on as well.

With a few clicks, the low whirring is heard of the turntable beginning to spin. And when he eases the needle onto the record a small crackle sounds before Get Away starts to play. He fiddles with the volume slightly until satisfied, only then does he turn back around and join you on the couch.

His face is settled in thought, bobbing his head gently to the beat as he rests back against the couch, sinking into it with a groan until he’s fully comfortable, legs spread out with one arm resting casually on his lap and the other on the arm rest, fingers tapping along.

You watch on in silence, your fingers raking through Yuri’s fur until her purring calms your nerves and you’re sagging back. Before you know it your eyes shut as you listen along to the music, your belly is full and your limbs are sore from the unpacking and rearranging that had to be done at work so being able to sit here and shut your brain off while mellow music filled the room was what you needed.

Before long the A side is finished playing, Yoongi having to get up to flip it over until the B side plays all the way through, the ending voicemail of Palace/Curse playing until it fizzles out entirely, the room falling into silence once more.

Yuri had gotten comfortable herself, sprawled out across your lap with her head by your hip, but when Yoongi gets up with a stretch her head pops up, eyes narrowing at her owner until she senses no threat and lays back down.

“Verdict?” You repeat his earlier question, seeing him hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees, his lips pursed in thought.

“Honest opinion?”

“Brutally honest.”

He hums with a sly grin as he turns his head to face you. “They’re good. Kinda makes me feel nostalgic too for some reason. But as a whole, it's great music that calms you down.”

With the way you’re laying practically boneless on his couch you can attest to that, they were definitely a band you listened to to unwind. He catches the wide smile spreading across your face as he stands back up to properly store the record, your smile only getting bigger when you see him replace one of the displayed albums on the wall with the new one. 

“It's going on the wall of favorites,” he announces, sliding the previous record back into the storage underneath.

“I’m honored.”

He steps back from the wall with his hands on his hips, admiring how the orange of the album pops out against the others. Yoongi very rarely switched these albums out, but he had a feeling this wall would eventually become full of the random albums you’d recommend to him.

“Quick question,” he starts as he turns back to face you, taking in the sight of you and his cat cuddling together. “It’s been sitting at the back of my mind, and Taehyung has given me like three different answers.”

A small laugh leaves you as you raise your eyebrow at him in question. “Sure, what is it?”

“Where did you move from?”

You stretch your legs out in front of you, your toes just barely reaching the coffee table he has set up a bit away from the couch, Yuri mimicking your actions and stretching out as well. You were definitely gonna grow as attached to her as you were to your roommate’s cat.

“Like where was I last before this, or where am I actually from?”

He walks towards his fridge, still being able to see and hear you due to the open layout of his place. “Both I guess.” The door pops open and he reaches for a bottle of water.“You thirsty?”

“You have some wine, or some beer?”

Yoongi grunts at that, shaking his head slightly, “Sorry, I don’t drink anymore but I’ve got water and juice.”

You’re sitting up straighter now, voicing out that the water was fine. “Where I’m from is classified information, you’ll have to level up on our friendship for me to tell you that.” You accept the water he hands you, smiling at him as he sits back on the couch. He was fine with your secrecy, taking whatever you feel comfortable telling him. “But I was in Madrid before I came here.”

“Oh? Did you leave where you’re from to go live there?”

Your fingers capture Yuri’s paw, squishing her toe beans as she gently swats at your hair. “No, I was in Amsterdam before that, and Berlin before that as well to name a few. I’ve been bouncing around since I was 20, so about 6 years now.”

He has a look of interest on his face as he sips the water, leaning onto the couch sideways to face you. “Do you ever want to go back to those places?”

“Like visiting the place more than once?”

He nods, his eyes focusing on Yuri’s fluffy body, seeing her sitting back up to hop onto the ledge of the couch, rubbing her body against the back of your head before settling on the backrest of it and getting comfy.

“Hm, not sure. I can’t see myself wanting to flip back the pages of my life to reread a story I already know the outcome to.” With a sigh you shrug at him, your fingers now tracing the material of the couch. “Maybe in the future, years from now, I’ll crave a specific memory and want to go back, but it hasn’t happened yet.”

The amount of new cities and countries you’ve been lucky enough to call home for any amount of time held a special place inside of you, the memories and stories you had because of those experiences helped shape you into the person you are. Sure not all of them were movie-like experiences, some close calls happening at a few places that made you question whether you made the right choice living your life the way you did. But then you’d have moments that just felt right, and right now, sitting on this couch with Yoongi, this was one of those moments.

“So you don’t plan on staying here forever?”

“Well what do you mean by forever?”

He smiles, not thinking he would have to explain what forever meant to him. “For the rest of your life. Is there another version of forever Y/N?”

“Shut up,” you laugh. “It’s not likely, but who's to say. I never move somewhere with a time frame of how long I plan on staying.”

“How do you decide? Sorry if I’m prying but I just can’t imagine that moving somewhere new would be easy. Picturing having to leave friends behind would probably wound me.” 

That was true, that was definitely the hardest part of doing this— emotionally at least. The people you met and befriended were a factor in deciding how long you’d stay somewhere. After the initial week of exploring a new place, it gets lonely. You’ve been to places where even the roommates you’d stay with weren’t friendly, and you’d have to take it a step further and search for friendships elsewhere. It was the main reason you had learned to not be timid when it came to making the first move.

“It’s kind of a gut feeling. The longest place I’ve lived in was Paris for two years.” A smile spreads across your face as you recall the two years you spent in that city, how you probably would’ve left after a few weeks if you hadn’t ran into that cute boy right before the club you were in shut down for the night. That experience alone was one of the main reasons you made it a conscious decision to not fall in love, not wanting to experience the inevitable heartbreak that came with it. 

Paris was the first place you moved to, jumping head first into adventure and taking everything that came with it, including romance. Leaving friends behind had been hard, but leaving Park Jimin behind had been a different version of painful.

“Before this I was in Madrid for a month. I found myself getting comfortable too fast and when I get comfortable I get bored. When it's no longer new and exciting I don’t see the point of staying anymore.”

Yoongi absolutely can not see the logic in the way you live, the carefree aura radiating off of you, but he weirdly craves it. He craves the feeling of not being afraid of not knowing what's coming, being able to just let the cards fall wherever they land. His entire life had changed in the last few years and was now built off routine, bullet point to-do lists and deadlines he had to meet. The only adventure he experiences anymore is thanks to his friends, luring him out of his apartment to fulfil any of their spur of the moment ideas, but nothing comes close to this. 

He’s not able to understand how you can be suspended in freefall for the majority of your life, and instead of panicking about your lack of parachute, you’re admiring the view.

“Do you plan on staying here forever?”

That question makes him freeze a little, he had been prying into your life no problem but now that a question was directed at him, he felt himself growing uneasy. “I guess I did.”

“Did...why past tense?”

You see the way he hesitates, his mind is already playing through all the scenarios that can come because of this but he decides to just bite the bullet. “Love makes you think of forever. I pictured forever with my fiance.”

At the mention of a fiance your mind thinks of the girl in the photos with Yoongi, the girl with the bright smile and wide eyes.

Was Yoongi a married man?

He can spot the way you process his vague information, knowing he should elaborate before you think anything else, before your eyes move to his ring finger only to find it bare. “When you’re with someone for almost 8 years its normal to think of forever you know.”

The flashes of his relationship play in his mind, meeting his fiance in his last year of high school. How they had pulled each other out of their shells, becoming rather chaotic in their adventures over the years, turning into adults and supporting each other in every aspect of life.

The memory of Yoongi proposing to her still feels fresh in his mind, taking her to Jeju island since it was a place she had always wanted to visit, not being able to due to caring for her family.

“We were actually planning our wedding, having invitations sent out with everything nearly ready but she uh–“ he stops to breathe slightly, his eyes moving to stare at the picture frames, proving your assumption of the girl being his fiance right. “She got into an accident.”

He hadn’t specified if she died or not, but that faraway look in his eyes spelled it out for you. Forever didn’t have any sympathy for his situation, but he just shrugs it off, forcing himself to not speak further on it. There was more that tied in to the tragic passing of his fiance but he felt he had overshared enough already, not wanting to make you uncomfortable by unloading this information on you. The last thing he needed was to turn this nice day into a pity party with him being the center of attention. 

He’s just waiting for the routine apologetic words that would fall from your mouth—maybe you’d reach over and rub his arm like some people did, tell him how sad it was as if he didn’t already know. Some half assed attempt to make him feel better even though you were clearly blind sided by the topic. 

Yoongi didn’t want that, always hating the way people would stare at him like he was some charity case. This was why he rarely chose to stray from his circle of comfort, from the people that knew the baggage that came with him and accepted him, keeping his group as tight knit as possible in order to not pick at scabbed over wounds. 

When you sigh, he braces for it, mentally accepting that this might be what ends your new formed friendship before you could really creep through the cracks in the wall he built. But instead you reach forward and grasp Yuri once more, scooping her up and bringing her to your chest like a baby. “So Yuri wasn’t the only queen of the house, is that it?”

Yuri purrs in confirmation and Yoongi turns to stare at you again, blinking the wetness away from his eyes before he could even call them tears. You had a smile on your face as you stared at him, not that typical sympathetic smile people always sent his way, it was a genuine one, letting him know he was free to talk more on the subject if he needed to.

And for the first time Yoongi acknowledges that maybe he did need to. He was so used to bottling his emotions in, shutting himself off after her passing, pushing all of his friends and family away and locking himself at home as he mourned, submerging himself in his work to numb himself from feeling anything. Even now, his friends never pried, let him handle his feelings any way he wanted to. But Yoongi can’t act like his chest aches from keeping it all in, the pressure slowly releasing even with the minimal information he had given you. 

“Yeah,” he sighs out in relief, reaching out to pet Yuri. “Hani was the queen before Yuri got promoted.”

As you coo at his cat he feels himself sagging back onto the couch. The small dam of emotions he had inside finally released, and before you know it he’s spilling everything out, telling you tidbit stories of him and Hani, and somehow easing you into sharing similar stories of you and Jimin. 

The sun fully sets through the windows, neither of you noticing as you talk well into the night, and Yoongi found himself laughing and smiling at the mention of Hani for the first time in two years. You urge him on, watching on with interest while he talks about the day they had picked up Yuri from the shelter. 

His eyes are crinkled up in that endearing way you had seen more of today than in the past weeks of knowing him, and it fills you with warmth to know he’s allowing you to know about this part of his life. It felt like sacred information, uncharted territory from the way he had hesitated in the beginning, almost like he wasn’t sure if he could trust you with the precious memories he held tightly. All he needed was a gentle nudge and a genuine smile to slowly let you flip the pages of his brain, knowing you wouldn’t judge the bleeding ink and scratched out words that came with each story. 

As he stares at the way you smile at him, he comes to the realization that your sneaky ass must have already managed to slip past the cracks of the walls he built, infiltrating the tight knit circle he had for himself. He has to hold in a laugh when he recalls the way Taehyung had seriously suggested that you might be a spy sent here from another country. Maybe he was onto something, because he was refusing to accept that his willingness to overshare and stray from his norm was due to anything but your highly trained interrogation skills. 

You clearly had his cat fooled as well. When Yuri leans up and nuzzles her face against yours he sighs, knowing she had claimed you as her favorite solely based on the attention you gave her. You were good. Yoongi guesses he would have to keep you around now, just for the sake of his cat, nothing more. 

[missredherring]

Practice

Marcus Moreno x Reader

Rating: G

Warnings: N/A

Summary: Marcus gets back into training but the administrative work never ends.

A/N: There’s no plot to this except that we all deserve more Marcus in action. It was criminal that we didn’t get to see him actually fight. Although he sure does strike a pretty pose. Did you notice that his tact vest is buckled to his belt? WTF.

There was something driving him during training that day. It pushed at him to keep going. He had to be faster. He had to be better. Being on the administrative side of things had made him soft and he thought it had been an acceptable trade so Missy would feel safe and secure, but the incident with the Ogimas and shown him just how much of a mistake that was. 

Simulation after simulation, Marcus kept going. While he favored his katanas he knew he should keep his skills up with any weapon available. When one virtual enemy was taken down he tossed the swords to the side and summoned another one from the wall racks. This way he could get practice with his power in too. One after the other, the longsword, rapier, cutlass, and a particularly sharp set of daggers came to his hands eagerly.

He grunted when the hilt of the heavy claymore slapped into his palms, making him twist to the side to avoid losing his footing. When the simulation charged at him he raised the blade to block the incoming blow. Thanks to his mother’s training regimen he’d been fighting a version of these for years. Even though they were a sophisticated piece of programing it felt like sparring with an old friend. Could he make out a face in the random lights that made up the “face” or was it another sign of how lonely he’d become? They traded blows back and forth until Marcus saw his opening. With a final heavy swing upwards, the last opponent of the session was gone. 

The sudden absence of the glow from the simulations made him blink and squint a bit, taking in the room while he tried to center himself and slow his racing heartbeat.

Marcus didn’t know how he could’ve missed you, standing right there. You looked almost as out of breath as he felt. Your knuckles were white from how hard you were holding your tablet and he had to call your name twice before you heard him.

You took a step forward before you thought about it and when you swallowed you almost choked. The scene you’d walked in on and the picture Marcus presented right now were straight out of some fantasy you didn’t realize you had. Muscles flexing and straining, sweat slicking his skin, and even with an unwieldy sword like the one in his hands, he moved with purpose and skill. His tact vest strained as his chest heaved in and out while he caught he breath. He was beautiful and dangerous. Was that a crack you heard from the tablet? Shit. 

“I-I need you to sign off on a few of the new procedures. The details have been finalized.” You said, wincing at the stutter and choice of words. 

He nodded and went to the wall rack. His hands spread wide, his powers reaching out, and the weapons scattered around the room slowly came over so he could put them away. It took more effort than he remembered, but he guessed that was inevitable with age and inactivity. He picked up a towel and dried his face before putting on his glasses. 

Marcus turned around and came over to you, holding his hand out for the tablet. You felt like you’d been punched in the gut. Wearing his glasses and his tactical outfit seemed like crossing a line. His roles as Heroic and office-bound team leader had been separate even though you knew logically that he was one in the same. The glasses dulled his sharp edges, softening him into the man who’d been taking over your thoughts the more time you spent in his company. You gave the tablet over, pointing out the files that needed his attention and signatures. 

“What about the new classroom? I know the executive board wanted something similar to what Granada had.” He said, noting that the specific environment hadn’t been mentioned in that section. He’d hated that concrete bunker, and if Missy was going to be joining her new friends he didn’t want her in something like that.

“I don’t see why it can’t be a regular classroom. We have plenty of open space on the higher floors. I think we should move away from the learning modules they were using too. Hire a few teachers and specialists.” You paused and bit your lip. “After the way they’ve been isolated they deserve some sense of normalcy.”

Marcus nodded and initialed the line, trying to focus on the words instead of the warm feeling in his chest. 

“Thanks for your help with this stuff. I know I’ve been preoccupied with...” He trailed off, gesturing to the training room, uncertain how to put what he’d been feeling into words. 

Your smile was easy. 

“Don’t worry about it, Marcus. We’ve been practicing for this for years. You know Granada liked the title and not the work. And now you can delegate and I get a raise.”

“Silver linings?” Marcus grinned, looking at you over his glasses. 

“Definitely.”

[ordinaryschmuck]

Top 20 BEST Animated Series of the 2010s-2nd Place

If you’ve been paying attention to Disney’s televised animation, you’d noticed that there’s been a weird trend going on with their shows. Recently, most of Disney’s shows begin as random comedies only to have a deep story to them in later seasons. Some shows soar as they do this right, and others tend to flail as they do it wrong. Personally, I would like to think it’s all because of one show that Disney has made. And since its series finale, the network tries their hardest to replicate it due to how well received it was. And despite the many attempts, no one can do better than--

#2-Gravity Falls (2012-2016)

The Plot: Twin siblings Dipper and Mabel Pines are forced by their parents to spend the summer in Gravity Falls, Oregon. But don’t worry, their parents are not entirely careless. They just sent their only children to spend the summer with their con artist of a great uncle with a deep, dark secret...okay, so they're a little careless. In fact, the parents might be more irresponsible than you think because Gravity Falls isn’t the small backwater town as it seems. Soon enough, Dipper and Mabel will learn that it’s a town with monsters, demons, and a mysterious author who recorded all of the town’s weirdness in his journals. Will the Pines twins solve the town's mysteries, or is their summer going to be over sooner than they thought?

By the way, I FREAKING love this premise! The idea of an entire town being filled with mysteries and monsters is so compelling to me because the possibilities are endless. One episode could be dealing with zombies, and another could be dealing with an entire society dedicated to keeping the town’s weirdness a secret. On top of that, every monster/weird oddity that Dipper and Mable face is just so creative, from a multi-headed bear to even the main antagonist being (and I kid you not) the Illuminati symbol wearing a top hat. And even when the show does use monsters you’ve seen before, they utilize them in a way you wouldn’t have expected. For example, there are two episodes where the characters deal with ghosts. In both scenarios, the methods these ghosts use to haunt the living are not just creative and scary, but in some instances, they can also be kinda funny. There’s just no telling what this show is going to pull off. Or at least, not entirely.

Because another great thing this show has is its mystery element. And I don’t mean just how well it handles mystery within a single episode (although it does that phenomenally too). What I mean is that Gravity Falls has a great overarching mystery that you, the audience, can solve for yourself. With that comes the show’s impressive attention to detail. From the secret codes to solve, to the lines/scenes you wouldn’t have thought twice about, to even a single license plate. That’s right. A single license plate is an essential clue to the show's most significant twist ever. In fact, it’s a twist that fans have solved years in advance due to all the hints that were left within previous episodes. And most of the credit goes to Alex Hirsh and his team. They really put a lot of effort into what many would describe, a kids cartoon. Even though this might just be the most adult kid's cartoon that I have ever seen.

You know how Pixar movies try their darndest to make films suitable for both children and their parents? That’s basically what Gravity Falls does. Whether you’re an adult or child, odds are you will be entertained in nearly every episode because rarely does it feel like an episode leans too far in either direction. If there’s an episode with a serious story, there’s always a silly/lighthearted subplot to keep the kids entertained. And if there’s an episode that is just silly all the way through, there are adult jokes that make you ask, “How the hell did a Disney cartoon get away with that?” Even when the show gets genuinely creepy, it works just perfectly above the line of going too far for kids (except in “Northwest Mansion Mystery." S**t gets real in that episode). Many kid's shows in the 2010s struggled to find this balance, and Gravity Falls is another one of those rare exceptions that somehow feels like it does it without even trying.

And what keeps that balance? The show’s sense of humor, that’s what. Even in the darkest episodes of the series, there is almost a well-placed joke to lighten the mood. And with Gravity Falls, the show relies on four types of humor. Being random, being surreal, being smart, and being dark. And not just dark for a Disney cartoon. I mean that Gravity Falls has a dark sense of humor that I would have expected in something like Rick and Morty (which is fitting because the creators of both shows are actually close friends in real life). As for how funny the jokes are in this series, they. Are. SO. Funny. I’m not kidding when I say that every single episode--and I do mean, every. Single. Episode--has made me laugh at least once. Not even the best comedy shows that I’ve seen have been capable of doing something so spectacular.

But do you want to know why the comedy is so hilarious? And do you want to know what really kept me invested in all 40 episodes? The answer is simple: It’s all because of the characters. Most jokes are funny because the right person said them. I care about the show’s mysteries because the characters make me care about those mysteries. And when the stakes get high, I’m invested because I care about the characters so much that I fear they’ll get hurt. In fact, I was so invested in all of these characters that the series finale made me cry FOUR TIMES due to how heart-wrenching it was. And I don’t weep that often when it comes to specific media. Most of the time, I get a little misty-eyed, and even when it feels like a scene has yanked at my heartstrings, I usually get myself under control before any real tears show up. But with the series finale of Gravity Falls, I was so emotionally invested with this cast that I was tearing up with them as tearful goodbyes were said. This is because Gravity Falls’ writers know that the key to making any story work is to have a great cast of characters. Because it doesn’t matter how epic your plot is. If I’m not invested in the characters winning the day, then I won’t be invested in the story.

Now at this point, you’re probably wondering what is wrong with this show. To that, I say virtually nothing...Okay, that’s not true. There are some problems the show has, but trust me when I say that the good heavily outweighs the bad. Are there occasional continuity errors? Yes. But they’re usually intentional for misdirection or made up with really great attention to detail in other scenes. Are there occasionally bad jokes? Of course. But like I said: EVERY. EPISODE. IS. FUNNY. So who cares if not every joke lands? Are there also a couple bland characters? Obviously. However, they’re either made better in later episodes or forgotten quickly due to even more memorable characters. And now the big one: Are there bad episodes? And there are...in comparison to the show’s usual quality. Even when Gravity Falls is at its “worst,” the writing is still somehow entertaining in its own right. Hell, the real complaint I have involving the series isn’t even about the show itself. It’s about other shows on the network.

Like I’ve said in the beginning, as of late, there has been a lot of modern Disney cartoons trying too hard to be the new Gravity Falls. And they’re all best intentions met with poor execution. The best (or should I say worst) example I can think of is Tangled: The Series, a television series based on Disney’s Tangled. The first batch of episodes was cute, harmless, and downright charming. Then halfway through the first season, it becomes dark, dark, and even darker. And unfortunately, the show’s quality feels like it took a dip with its direction. As for other Disney cartoons, they follow a similar pattern, with the thought that Gravity Falls did the same thing. The problem is that it didn’t. From the very first episode, the show started off by hinting that it isn’t as cute and innocent as it seems. Sure the stories got significantly darker in season two, but they slowly worked their way towards earning that by slowly becoming more dramatic with each episode. And like I said, even at its darkest, the writers still knew when to keep the tone light. So that’s really the only logical problem I have with Gravity Falls: It made people think they need to be more like Gravity Falls.

When I hear that people wish the show was brought back, I honestly don’t get it. The series ended on a perfect note, with very few questions left unanswered. And the unanswered questions were actually answered through other media such as books or comics. And if you ask me, I’d rather have the series come to an end in the way that it did. It had a perfect premise told with fascinating mysteries, funny comedy, infesting characters, and even a kickass theme song (I know that I didn’t mention that last bit, but trust me when I say that it’s so GOOD). Why ruin that by turning it into something like The Simpsons, where a show would just get stale after too many seasons? In the end, while I was sad to see it go, I’m still happy to say that this is always going to be a show that will make you Fall in love with it.

(But the real mystery is: What series is going to top a cartoon that was practically perfect?)

(...)

(Who am I kidding. You’ve probably already figured it out by now.)

[tickle-me-stoked]

Mornings Don’t Always Suck

Words: 1457

Characters: Virgil focus, Roman, Logan, and a bit of Patton.

Relationships: Any you want, but it was platonic in my head :3

Warnings: tickling, minor embarrassment, partial nudity (boy loses shirt whoops), sleepiness, restraint (he’s held down), playful use of the term ‘queer’, and I think that’s it :P

A/N: This is my first tickle fic!! I hope you all like it!!

Tagging: @cefsticklestoo 😊

It was too late to try. Virgil had yet to sleep a wink and it was already nearing eight in the morning. He groaned and snatched his currently charging phone up, checking for any notifications from his apps. Nothing. He’d only checked it a half hour ago anyway. Rolling to a sit, Virgil ruffled his hair back into place and made his way downstairs.

He noted first Patton at the dining table, always able to feel his best whether he managed to sleep much or not. Then there was Roman in the kitchen, putting together ingredients to make breakfast. He had an alarm set for 7am each day of the week; he said it kept his complexion at its best. And Logan was absent, always second to last in waking up as it took his brain longer to process his surroundings when half asleep.

“Virgil!” Roman called, thrilled to see the other side so soon. “Do you want pancakes for breakfast? Now that three of the four of us are here, I can start cooking!”

“Yeah, sure, Roman, go ahead.” He muttered, taking a seat next to Patton. He put his head on his arms and pulled out his phone. Patton had yet to greet him.

“Virgil,” he said instead, an accusatory tone to his voice. “How much did you sleep?” Virgil, slowly looked over to the fatherly trait, a single eyebrow raised.

“Okay, random, um. I,I didn’t-- how, how could you even tell?” Patton sighed and leaned forward on the table. The two hardly acknowledged the last of their group walk past to the kitchen.

“Well, for starters, you beat Logan to the table. Secondly, you didn’t even grab any coffee. Third, you’re in the same clothes from yesterday!” Virgil looked down and noticed it was all true. Logan was at the counter, drinking the coffee that he neglected to grab for himself and he had, in fact, not changed his clothes since the previous day. He groaned.

“Alright, yeah, you got me.” He dropped his head back to the table and stared ahead at nothing. A few moments passed, and Logan and Roman began to carry in their food and get the table all set with what they needed: sliced fruits, spreads, and drinks to accommodate their meal.

The group ate their breakfast as normal, Roman doing most of the talking, specifically about dreams he’d had and ideas they’d given him, with the others adding in their input and commentary as necessary. Virgil cleaned his dishes and helped the others with the rest. Just as he was headed for the stairs to try and relax some, Logan took his hand.

“Virgil, I’d like to try something, if you’d be willing to help me out?” He asked, looking slightly hopeful and… giddy? Virgil, furrowed his brows and agreed, really just to put off trying to sleep some more. “Great. Okay, take off your shirt and lay on the floor.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Logan blinked.

“It’s just, it’s easier that way. For this to work, it’s best to have minimal obstacles.” Virgil took a deep breath and did as he asked, not feeling very anxious at the moment. Instead, he felt rather calm and was willing, excited even, to do things with the others. Even if ‘others’ meant only one ‘other’. Perhaps Roman and Patton would join in a bit. Who knows?

VIrgil removed his sweater and his long-sleeve, and lay on his back on the floor, folding his arms across his chest.

“Okay, I’m cold and exposed. Now what?” Logan knelt beside him, wearing a content smile.

“Close your eyes.” Virgil glared. “I promise not to do anything queer.” The halfnaked man on the ground shut his eyes and muttered under his breath.

“You’re queer.” He felt Logan reach for and grab his arms, gently moving them down to his sides. The calm touches already made him feel more relaxed.

A sudden tingle slashed through his stomach, causing him to jolt and sputter, rolling to the side and covering the spot that got shocked.

“Whoa, hey, what was that for?!”

“Virgil, I promise you, it’s fine. It’s just part of the test.”

“Yeah, one to make me squeal like a child?” Virgil sat up and guarded his midsection. “Jeez, ask a guy if he’s ticklish first next time.” The last thing Virgil needed on zero sleep was someone finding out his weakness and proceeding to use it against him.

“Are you ticklish?”

“Obviously!”

“Ladies, ladies, what is happening here?” Roman interrupted, standing behind VIrgil with his hands on his hips.

“Perfect! Roman, could you lend me a hand?” Logan said, beaming, his one hand flapping outwardly. Roman turned his gaze to Logan, curiosity taking hold. “Could you hold his arms for me? Gently, though.”

“What? No!” Virgil moved to his feet to try and escape the situation. However, Roman took his chance and snagged the emo, trapping his arms at his sides. Roman linked his hands together, keeping Virgil entirely stuck. “Roman, I swear to goOHOHOHOHOD!” His voice raised into a cry as his stomach was prodded again, this time at a quicker rate. “STOP STOP STAHAHAHAHAP AHAHAHAHA!” He squealed, laughing and kicking and tensing. “WHAHAHAHAHY?”

“Why?” Logan said, speaking loudly for Virgil to hear over his own hysterics. Logan took his hands back for a minute, giving him a break to not overwhelm him. “Because. It’s all part of the test.”

What tehehest? What’s this for?” While he seemed upset before the tickling had officially started, he continued to smile even when he stopped giggling. He rested his weight against Roman, but his feet continued to move, the sudden adrenaline leading an outlet.

“I’ve read that being tickled can tire a person out, enough so that they’re able to fall asleep soon after. So? Did it work?”

“I’m not sure that was nearly enough tickling, my brainiac,” Roman cut in, smirking down at the side in his arms. “He seems to still have some energy.” Logan nodded. Virgil dropped his head backwards onto Roman’s shoulder, feigning defeat. “Wow, not even fighting it anymore? If I didn’t know better, I would assume you don’t mind this experiment thing.” Virgil’s head flew back upright.

“What gives you that idea?!” Their eyes turned to logical trait.

“Do you wish that I stop? We can call it off here, if you would prefer.” Virgil found himself between a rock and a hard place. He could keep up his deniability and agree to be let go, or he could admit to liking being tickled and have both fun and maybe even get some decent sleep. However, his hesitancy to respond gave the two enough of an answer.

Without another word Logan reached back up, this time dragging light finger-touches across the neck, beneath the jaw and down to the shoulder. VIrgil squirmed and huffed, trying to catch the hands under his head in reaction to stop the sensations. He squeaked as it failed, the hands trailing down to his collarbone, then to his pectorals, and scratching across his ribs. His body twisted as much as it could in Roman’s grasp. Logan’s tickling increased as the creative aspect began to blow on his skin, the breeze blowing against the hairs on his neck. He let out giggles and gasps, squirming and kicking lightly.

“So he likes it!” Roman cheered, genuinely happy with the discovery. Virgil felt the sudden want to disappear.

“I dohoho nohohohohot!” He said, unable to contain himself in the slightest. He was also sure that lying would be no use, but his instinct was to protect this not-so-secret secret for as long as possible.

Logan, however, decided that it was enough for now and let the soft tickles drift into nothing, Roman following his lead. Virgil slowly stood back up, wiping his eyes and rubbing against the remaining sensations, still chuckling lightly.

“So, Virgil?” Roman teased, leaning in and resting his chin on the lee’s shoulder. “You like to be tickled, hm?” Virgil’s face tinted red as he looked sheepishly the other way.

“It’s, I mean, I wouldn’t, I, I wouldn’t exactly, um,”

“Ha! That’s great, Virge!” Roman threw his arms around him and nuzzled his face with his own.

“Yeah, yeah, get off me.” Virgil felt as though he would regret it later, but at the moment, he wasn’t too self-conscious.

“How do you feel, Virgil?” Logan said, smiling in a kindhearted way.

“I’m a little more tired now, but it was still, it was still kinda, kinda fun. Thanks, Lo—“

“VIRGIL!” And with a shout, Virgil found himself lying on the ground, a giddy Patton over him, and beginning to laugh his ass off as he was tickled, this time mercilessly, by the fatherly trait.

[mercury-minded]

What is Your Soulmate Like? ~ Pick-A-Card 🔮💞

for this reading, I asked my decks for help with understanding one of your soulmates in this life! I say “one-of” because I fully believe we have more than one, and that they don’t necessarily have to be romantic. To get a peek into the personality of one of your soulmates, please pick a card (left to right: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6) and have an open mind! ✨

Group 1

Right off the bat, this person gives me major sagittarius/virgo vibes. They are independent, idealistic go-getters! They are very much a “thinker” - logical and curious but can also be restless, always searching for the next new thing to learn about and master. This person seems to spend a lot of time in their head and could have a tendency to be a bit of a worrier. There’s a hopeless romantic aspect to this individual as well that I think they try to keep under wraps for the most part! They don’t want everyone knowing just how soft-hearted they truly are. They don’t have it all together or all figured out yet, but they’re certainly trying and making good progress.

Group 2

This person may have a lot of fixed energy in their natal chart! This is someone generous, passionate, loyal, and perhaps a bit full of themselves ;) They’re definitely ambitious with a lot of lofty goals for themselves - and they have the confidence to succeed. Their extroverted personality helps them with being a natural leader, and the optimistic outlook is the cherry on top. I’m also seeing this person as rather fit - even if they don’t consistently work out, they still enjoy activities that get their blood pumping (hiking, diving, mountain biking, surfing, etc). The last thing I’m picking up for this individual is that they’re quite the “love me or leave me” type, meaning that they’re not going to change for anyone, they can be rather blunt, and they don’t need anyone’s approval.

Group 3

This individual oozes earth energy! I’d expect prominent earth placements in their natal chart. Another thing that’s coming to me right away is that they have a talent for words. This may be someone who’s a writer, a poet, a lyricist, or a journalist. They spend a lot of time alone with their thoughts - they’re quite the introvert. This person is very intellectually-minded as well, and may have interests that seem a bit “out there” - astrology, metaphysics, or things related to science-fiction. They are extremely picky about who they spend their time with and don’t often put themselves out there. This is not someone who’d do a big, romantic gesture as their emotions and feelings are usually kept under lock and key…their love language would most likely be “acts of service”.

Group 4

Wow, this person has a sexuality that is hard to ignore! This is someone who isn’t afraid to initiate or walk up to someone and ask for their number - or a date. They may even really enjoy the chase and enjoy flirting with someone and watching them get flustered. This is a strategist: they know exactly what they’re doing and how to get the results they want. There’s really quite a bit of Mars energy here. On that note, I’d expect this person to be impulsive and determined - assertive and goal-driven. What they want, they’re going to get. Some may think this person is immature, but there’s a lot of intelligence here that makes me not believe that. It’s more like they’re just a bit abrasive, and they don’t mind stepping on toes if it gets them where they want to be.

Group 5

There is a lot of Uranian energy in this person! They may have an interest in the occult, divination, past lives, and ancient history and lore. They are major non-conformists, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they had a strong pull towards activism as well. They’re that deep person, interested in conspiracy theories and unearthing the world’s secrets. The darker and weirder, the more it catches their eye! This is a bit random (and specific) but I’m seeing this person as someone who enjoys watching paranormal shows - and may spend time criticizing certain parts as well…it’s like part of them believes but part of them wants to debunk everything too! This person wants someone who will listen to them, and who they can share and bounce ideas off of.

Group 6

This is someone who’s a bit hard to pin down: they feel like a child at heart, but there’s an outspoken-ness and progressive nature to them that adds maturity. They are very future-focused, but can also be a bit..scattered? Something about them is so endearing, even when their mind’s wandered off somewhere, or when they’ve said something a bit too blunt. Their charisma means others forgive them, and usually, they never did mean it maliciously anyways. This is a person who is pushing themselves constantly and may have a tendency to spread themselves too thin. It can be hard for them to pick one goal to accomplish, when there’s so much they feel capable of doing! Physical touch and words of affirmation feel like the love languages for this individual.

Thank you so much for letting me read for you! Please keep in mind this is a very broad and general reading - so not all aspects may resonate with you. If you’d like a personalized spread, my tarot services can be found here xx

If you’d like to support me and what I do, please consider buying me a coffee ☕️💕 

[clansayeed]

Bound by Circumstance ― Chapter 22: Cleansing Grimfire

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

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Circumstance ⥽

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

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

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

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

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

The Coven Elders deal with the consequences of their actions. Taylor and Elric participate in a father-son activity. The Council takes some responsibility.

[READ IT ON AO3]

The bloodwraith’s neck cranes back at an unnatural angle and it howls to the wind, bloodstained talons reaching out and forward; compelled to attack.

His breath catches in his throat and Taylor squeezes his eyes shut. He braces himself—

For the pain that never comes. The icy grasp of a fate worse than death that he still can only imagine; still must only imagine.

Peeks a tentative eye open to the sight of Cassiopeia’s severed hand stretched out in Vera’s quivering grasp.

A firsthand witness to how the small and humble sparks in Vera’s breast ignite into a blaze that consumes her soul.

“You will not.”

The entire Garden watches in bated awe as the wraith obeys. Hovers back far enough where Taylor can breathe without the scent of rancid flesh in his mouth.

Oh he’s still scared shitless — and rightly so. But just like he can feel the bad things hovering in an aura around them so too can he feel the good.

And the sudden rush of adrenaline, defiance, bravery in Vera is incredible.

The Elders are still together, still united, but their understanding is unmistakable. They know whose hand Vera wields. They realize what has changed with its discovery.

The only thing that hasn’t settled in to their collective hive mind is that it’s over.

“You killed Cassiopeia because she was the necromancer — she was the one in control of whatever creature she summoned and you needed that control to be yours and yours alone. You didn’t realize that you screwed yourselves.”

“‘Cause they were busy screwin’ everyone else,” huffs Nik behind him.

Millet has gone pale, the dark circles under her eyes pronounced against her almost skeletal pallor. “Her body became a totem.” Is that a hint of resignation in her tone? Or maybe just wishful thinking.

“Specifically her hand,” Cadence confirms with a nod, “like the trophies Reimonenq kept in his mortal life. If you had conjured up any random malevolent soul instead of going for sick, twisted irony maybe it would have been different but…”

“But she who holds the Hand holds the power.”

There was a lot about the plan that had been left up in the air. When, or if, the Coven Elders would even arrive. If they would summon the wraith immediately or attack in some other form. If there was even the smallest chance they could be convinced to stop the needless violence; their grab for power stayed in favor of the cooperation that should have happened in the first place.

But the one thing they had all been forced to agree upon was the one thing no one wanted to think about.

They had the totem, now what?

An eye for an eye was the most logical, solved the most problems. But then how were they any better than the Elders?

They may have been forced to agree but that didn’t mean it was without argument.

Cadence had been the last one to exit the underground tomb, his gruesome work finally done. Cassiopeia’s hand had been wrapped in Cal’s flannel and held out between them all as an unholy relic.

It made sense for Nik to take it — for a Nighthunter to be the one to make the final blow whatever that blow may entail.

Instead he held it out to Vera; insisted she take it. “You’re the one who’s suffered the most here. He’s your kin.” And polite Vera, kind Vera; Vera who had been tangled up in this out of fear and a desire to save Kristin and had resigned herself to suffering a curse she could never lift, took the bloodied bundle and made her peace with accepting the burden.

Never said what she planned on doing — it was just assumed she’d send the creature after the Elders; wield the totem the way a hero wields a sword to deal the dragon a final blow.

Maybe it was something Vera didn’t know herself. Couldn’t know until she was in the moment and had to make the choice before hesitation was their undoing.

Well they’re in that moment now. Taylor watches her square her shoulders, her bare hands grasping real flesh for only the second time in her entire life, and knows she’s chosen.

The wind rustles her curls silently as Vera holds out the severed hand in offering to the bloodwraith.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” The words come out of Daniels’ mouth but they don’t sound like her at all — there’s no restraint in her fear now.

Vera doesn’t deign the woman worth an answer. Just watches, waits for the creature to move. But even it doesn’t seem to understand what her intentions are.

Vion sneers — but even that wavers. “Foolish mortal child. If you wish to live you will keep that thing away from its totem.”

“I won’t do it —” —she whips around to Taylor behind her, tears stinging where they well at her eyes— “— I can’t do it, Tay. I can’t kill them.”

She can’t. If she does, she’s no better than they are. She’s the monster her mother is, the monster her ancestor is. Whether it’s true or not it’s how she feels so he feels it too.

“Baby girl if there was ever a time to grow a spine… now’s it.”

Vera stares over his shoulder to her mother’s wavering figure straining down the garden path.

They knew taking her out of the hospital was a necessary evil. She was the wraith’s last true victim. Her presence made some of the uncertainties of the plan less so because they knew it would come to finish what it started. But the fight, rushing her out of the fray; it’s proving to be too much. Ashen-faced and every muscle in her body screaming let me rest but she doesn’t.

Lady Smoke does not run from her enemies.

“Momma…”

Yet even with everything they’ve been through, despite her daughter refusing to leave her hospital bedside, there’s the furrow of command in her hardened face. She looks at Vera in the same way she had back at her club. Not a mother; a mob boss.

“Tonya, don’t —” Katherine tries to stay her advance but she’s shrugged off; hand batted away like a bothersome fly.

“Your whole life you’ve been runnin’ from who you are, Vera Claire. I shouldn’t have indulged it, that’s my sin to bear; lettin’ you make yourself weak. But now there’s lives at stake, includin’ your own. Maybe you still ain’t got the sense to use your gift for me but would you forgive yourself if your weakness killed everyone else?”

Vera can’t believe it. Frankly neither can anyone else. “What — Momma, stop. Why’re you doin’ this now of all times?”

“Because you’ve always been too stubborn to see what needs to be done!”

“No one else needs to die!”

“Then they’ll kill you first!”

“I won’t do it, goddammit —” if Smoke thought scolding her daughter would shame her into acting she has another thing coming, every word pulls Vera back from the murderous edge, “— I won’t be you! I refuse! I refused then and I refuse now!”

Vera’s voice cracks and the dam breaks; tears down her cheeks with the hovering shadow of pure evil behind her and a lifetime of rage and loathing coming out at the wrong moment but it wasn’t she who chose to rip open these old wounds now — so why should she have any mercy, any sympathy for the frail woman who did this to herself.

“We were both here that night. But it went after you — and if you weren’t so obsessed with gettin’ back your damn Touch you’d realize why that is. I won’t do it. I won’t take a life, even like this. I won’t be you — I won’t be a monster.”

And it’s final this time; when she turns away from her mother to face her decision right in the bloodstained face. “Derek Reimonenq was a monster too. I won’t use him and I won’t become him to get what I want. I know there’s another way.”

“You know nothing of the craft,” all of Daniels’ malice shoved into one last push; one last attempt. Her hands twitch at her side but the witch knows better than to act. Acting runs the risk of losing the totem holding the bloodwraith bound — or the wraith itself.

All her power and all the misery she’s orchestrated up to now and she’s reduced to nothing but words. Words that cause Vera to look up at her with pity. The ultimate insult.

Taylor sucks in a breath as she takes a step closer to the creature; can’t help himself even though he trusts her. Trusts she knows what she’s doing and believes in the path she’s taking.

So he has to believe in her, too. Their lives depend on it.

“I know the misery it’s brought. And I know I won’t have a hand in it anymore.” On silent command the bloodwraith opens its ghoulish talons held aloft. And with all of her fear and grief and anger put aside Vera lays the dead witch’s token upon them.

The skin fades sickly pale and bloodless veins spread black and ruinous. A horrific sight not unfamiliar — and Taylor knows in a part of him that’s still tied to the grief of Cassiopeia’s misplaced trust that the unknown magics preserving her body in the tomb lift and allow her to finally rest.

Even accepting the reality that there was a tortured soul powering the bloodwraith like Satan’s battery — he still couldn’t think of it as something with thoughts; something beyond a mindless killing entity. Which probably explains the weird feeling that comes with watching the creature as it looks down at the totem with a curiosity that could almost be called human.

Behind it the Elders close even tighter ranks. He’s not entirely certain they shouldn’t be doing the same.

Then, like all living things the wraith crosses, the hand begins to wither. Flesh pulled taut against skeletal fingers before eating away at itself the way maggots do; reveals the muscles underneath and the tissue between bones until those desiccate too. Until all that’s left are pale off-white bones that fall in little thunk-thunks to the dirt at its… levitating burial wrappings.

Uncertainty hangs over their heads crisp and icy, prickles like needles at Taylor’s skin and tries to choke him from the inside with every breath.

Now what?

The witches strike first. Try to get the jump on the bloodwraith while its back is still turned with three right hands extended and three burning spheres of fire brought together in Daniels’ power and sent hurtling forward.

Like that’ll make a difference.

The blaze collides against the creature’s spine and even manages to set a few tattered edges of it’s billowing wraps alight. But fire is like all things; needs oxygen to breathe and live. And nothing lives that close to the wraith’s existence. Cassiopeia’s hand proved that.

What would have happened if they’d done nothing; if they had fled, or held their breaths and stayed very still? Would they have been spared? Would Reimonenq’s soul take its newfound freedom and flee beyond the Veil?

It doesn’t matter one way or the other. Because they act — they lash out first. So technically there’s nothing against the retaliation coming.

Maybe if they’d kept Cassiopeia alive she could have banished it before the slaughter.

And it is.

The ghastly, gleeful grin Taylor swears he can see twisted back upon its lips will haunt him for some time; whether it’s really there or not.

The bloodwraith makes quick work of the ones who bound it to bone. It may have enjoyed the hunt every other time before but this — this it has been waiting for from the moment it was birthed in blackness and greed. Taking no time to savor their screams.

Not that the Elders go quietly — each new barrage of magic changes the air pressure and makes Taylor’s eyes swim dizzy and confused. They send spell after spell and chant after chant at the bloodwraith’s face, it’s torso, the space between it and the ground. They try to swallow it up with a tear in reality, send blood from their open veins to slake its thirst; things magic might not even be capable of but are made real in those desperate last moments.

As if the universe, the forces Beyond, the things that bind The Fate in rules against intervention give the witches all the power their mortal bodies can hold. In the same way a death row inmate is given a feast for his last meal.

The wraith’s tainted touch is too good for them. Keeps them whole, maybe even alive long enough to continue toying with. It can’t have that.

So it plunges through Millet’s abdomen bodily. Cleaves her in two uneven pieces and the rest of her splattered on the stone wall at her back. The viscera is dark, almost black against the bleach-white bones that emerge like a butterfly that could only come from the mind of H.G. Wells.

Vion’s cloudy eyes are plucked from his skull with veins and nerves snapping like taut strings. His mortal mouth isn’t wide enough to fit the wraith’s claw until it is — but only after flashing the onlookers with the bottom half of the smile he never learned how to give. Like scooping stew out of the pot with knives his organs come out mangled, misshapen.

The smell is awful and Taylor wants to look away but he doesn’t. Forces himself to watch each new torture and indignity those husks are subjected to. Because they are husks now. There’s no way anyone could be alive after that.

Even when he feels Nik’s tension closer than before and a hand inches its way up to the corner of his eye he brushes it aside. “You shouldn’ have to see this,” the Nighthunter whispers. And he’s right. He shouldn’t have to.

But the Coven Elders only have themselves to blame for that. They were the ones who pulled him into the dark and horrible. “I will anyway;” his equally voiceless reply.

And then there’s Elder Daniels. Made to watch the evisceration and mutilation of her kin. The last witches to fall to The Bloody Hand. That’s her fault, too.

It backs her into the Millet-strewn wall but she does not cower. It rakes talons through her throat her gut her four limbs but she does not scream. It hovers in the air over the pile of her it created but she does not look away — eyes brighter in death than they ever were in life.

The hardest part comes after. Waves of nausea and anguish and the taste of blood at the back of his throat that leave him shaking, crying even though he knows there was no other way — that someone had to die. It takes time but the feelings and all their overwhelming wrath do fade.

Belatedly he realizes — the last of the Coven Elders, those tiny wisps of purpose and ill, have left this world.

The fallout of them remains.

The bloodwraith hovers there among its finest work. Takes them in maw dripping blood and tissue stained red and reeking of death and righteous revenge — but still, silent as the grave.

Without tether or ruling hand there is nothing left inside its hollow ribs. Its great work is done.

Elric is the first to speak, voice cracked from exhaustion, and Taylor isn’t the only one who jumps slightly at the broken silence.

“We must destroy the creature before its nature overpowers the echoes of its former self.” Not that he has to tell anyone twice.

“Think it’ll sit still long enough fer us to put it through a woodchipper?” Kristof isn’t joking.

But Elric shakes his head; doesn’t humor even outlandish ideas. “I… do not know.”

Katherine favors her left side as she hobbles close enough for Ryder to prop her up. “We could pursue another necromancer — but the odds of one being close enough to get here in time…”

“An’ I definitely don’ have enough arrows to banish it to the Veil.”

“So we’re fucked?”

“Every passing moment deteriorates its complacency. It will go rabid.”

“If we had the totem —”

“— the Elders would still be alive, so stop lookin’ at me like that mother.”

Through the din of arguments and ideas tossed forward and debunked Taylor sees their guest again. Watches as The Fate holds his gaze then looks out, slow and with purpose. Over the grass and gravel stained black that now shines like glass under the revealing moonlight.

The stars shine much the same but the trails left by Elric and Garrus’ valiant effort in cornering the witches are a different beauty. Something ethereal and as bright as it is dark. Scorched trails of obsidian creating beauty in destruction.

With all the weird and cryptic help they keep giving, he’s gonna need to get The Fate a fruit basket delivered or something.

“Do you have enough strength to do it one more time?”

Elric looks at him with a furrowed confusion — takes a moment to understand before he withers further. “I worry not even Garrus’ aid will be enough to burn the beast. Not alone.”

Taylor’s heart sinks, but Nik catches it before it gets too low.

“So help ‘em out, Rook.”

“Me?”

“You did it before.”

“Yeah but not on purpose.”

“So get Elric to channel it to you again.”

Then his father is at his side with pale palm turned up in offering. “You are not the same person you were then. You may not need my help.”

Everyone’s stopped arguing now; listening intently. Talk about stage fright.

“Yeah I — I don’t think so. The other fae, the ones inside…”

“Not all of us have the touch to do such wonders.”

And isn’t that just great. “Obviously. Why would it ever be easy?”

He throws a look to Garrus, still half-caught in Krom’s arms though looking far less on the verge of unconsciousness. Not that Krom worries over him any less. They catch him looking and their smiles are matched; happy, relieved, sheepish. Makes Taylor have the just-barely resistible urge to shake his head and say “those crazy kids.”

What’s the use arguing at this point?

“Okay. I mean — however I can help.”

Of course the stone troll is reluctant to let Garrus go, takes more than a fair bit of coaxing from Ivy but he does. “I haven’t stretched these muscles in a century,” comes the anticipated complaint, “and now you have me conjuring twice in one evening?” But Garrus doesn’t hesitate as he takes his position back up.

Elric directs Taylor nearest Isadora; doesn’t argue when Nik follows like an extension of him.

“I’ll be okay.” Not that he doesn’t appreciate the support.

“I know —” then, after a beat, “— still. Don’t have to leave you, so I won’t.”

A hush falls with the fae men in their positions. The outcast, the Lord, and the halfling in a triangle around the dormant wraith.

He knows he shouldn’t but that’s never stopped Taylor before. Cautiously reaches out with that feeling inside and tries, more out of curiosity than anything, to search for anything that remains of Reimonenq within its cursed bones.

But he’s just met with a void. Blacker than black — no revenge, no vendetta to carry out; nothing at all.

So he pulls it back… and feels the faint whisper of death like velvet on his cheek.

It’s as ready as they are for all this to be done with.

Not that he was expecting a lesson on a chalkboard or anything — Conjuring Grimfire 101 — but there’s a distinct lack of any kind of instruction that leaves Taylor more than a little lacking. Has him looking back and forth to mirror the men in everything he can see.

One minute the uncertainty is there; building inside of him a threatening mass of the unknown — and then it isn’t.

It’s just gone.

Whatever takes its place—not confidence, not quite—is enough, somehow. He knows it’s enough.

Looking down Taylor isn’t surprised to see wisps of black flame licking at his palms. Both enveloped and not, but not a burn in sight and so so beautiful.

It doesn’t take much. Barely even a gesture but moreso the power to let the grimflames take to the world beyond him.

Taylor, Garrus, Elric — they aren’t three people and three flames anymore. They’re one in the same; send their combined will forward. Rushing, racing on still winds lapping and hissing at one another until they seek home in the only thing they can.

A column of midnight fire erupts towards the sky as the bloodwraith is consumed. The last of its flesh, the tendrils of cloth, the thrice-burned bones engulfed in a fire that bathes the entire garden in light.

Taylor prepares himself — muscle memory — for a stinging wave of heat that never comes. And the sight is as captivating as it is terrible, as magical as it is destructive. Colors without names taking the wraith’s shape within the black — aberrant and awe-some.

Higher and higher the grimfire clamors for the abyss; seeks home in a darkness just as endless. The colors within grow to a blinding brightness as, within, the creature is devoured.

The Council of New Orleans watches as one. Blooded and bruised and alive. Shadows of light in lashes across every face like a ritual of cleansing.

Cadence shoulders the combined weights of Kathy and Cal; holds them up with tears in his eyes.

As Kristof watches, jaw slack, Octavia lumbers up to him with blood-matted fur and noses at his palm, turns a golden gaze up to the place where the fire and the heavens meet. Even Isadora finds herself held captive by the sight.

Vera’s hands cup her elbows, the glowing shadows catching on her curls and every teardrop that collects at her chin. Behind her Tonya stands shrouded in the dark of her daughter’s figure. The only one focused on something else.

But it makes sense. Don’t ask him how but it does. It isn’t just the bloodwraith that is forced to make peace in the fae fire’s glow. It shines on all of them and chases away every shadow left in the chambers of their hearts. Leaves within Taylor a feeling of profound peace; of understanding.

From tip to temple the remnants of the bloodwraith scatter upwards, rainbow embers scattering to every corner of the city — further even.

Upturned palms slowly close with curled-in fingers; Garrus, then Elric. Elric who looks at his son with pride to which nothing can compare. Taylor almost doesn’t want to let it go. Wants to let it build and stay in this beautiful monument to everything… everything.

Instead he closes his hands and snuffs out the light.

The curtains close.

Cade pulls away gasping; covers his mouth with the back of his hand with something akin to shame burned into his red eyes. Katherine gives him time; lets the vampire come back to himself with her bare arm still offered; just in case.

It isn’t lost on Taylor — or anyone, really — that the huntress was content to push half a wine glass of her blood towards Isadora de la Rosa. That the vein was a luxury only Cadence was allowed.

Cadence who holds her arm gingerly as he smears blood from his nicked thumb along the skin and lets it heal.

All around them the Mardi Gras decorations still shimmer with delight. Enticing them to forget their worries and relax; to enjoy themselves in a way they might finally be allowed, now. But the night isn’t done yet. Neither are they, no matter how much they might wish otherwise.

Two ashtrays pass between hands. Inside; a thin layer of blood shared among them like a church sacrament. The unspoken rule — take just enough to heal your wounds, because the likelihood that either vampire was willing to part with more than they could afford was slim.

And he cares about the rest of his friends — he does. He’s glad to see the bruises fading from Kathy’s ribs where her shirt is hitched up; to see Cal testing the motion of his arm where Octavia had helped relocate his shoulder. He’s glad — yet it doesn’t stop him from devoting the majority of his attention to Nik.

“No physical signs of a concussion,” mumbles Cade through his careful examination of the man’s pupils; flashes the mini-light from Taylor’s keys between them just in case, “and as any possible wounds would be internal there isn’t much my blood can do that it wouldn’t have done already.”

But Ryder will only humor them for so long. The frustration is already starting to tick in his brow. “Cool, then will you lay off?”

“Nik —”

“I’m fine Rook, see?” He gestures with arms spread wide and what is that supposed to prove? Can anyone blame him for worrying? Would anyone dare to try?

No, not like this. Not when the events of the night still hang over those gathered like an anvil on a very thin rope. Only when it drops it won’t be for comedic effect.

All they need is someone to cut the cord.

Good thing Nik Ryder has never been one to sugarcoat anything. Or hold his tongue for that matter.

“They weren’t wrong, you know, the Coven Elders.”

Which is so the wrong thing to say and gets a couple hundred pounds of angry sweaty werewolf in his face, growling; “The fuck’d you just say, Ryder?”

Even Isadora’s disapproval isn’t so easily contained. “Poor taste, Nighthunter.”

But he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t waver. Looks Kristof square in the eyes with a matching frown and a set jaw.

“You could ignore it before, but you sure can’t now. Things around here have gotten way outta hand. Each one’a you only cared about what was right under your noses. I ain’t sayin’ they went about it the right way but to walk outta here with nothing changed would be almost just as bad.”

That he doesn’t end up with a broken jaw is surprising on its own. When Kristof actually steps back as if to listen? Well Hell went straight from frozen over to a winter wonderland.

“Continue,” prompts Elric then, since no one else is willing to offer the floor to him. Why would they? Who wants to be told everything they’ve done wrong? Especially when it leads to… well.

“I didn’ think about the state of things until I saw what was goin’ on inside Persephone. Told myself it wasn’t any of my business —”

“— which it is not,” Tonya interrupts, and meets the glare Vera snaps at her with a hard set to her jaw. “Nighthunters have always been a complicated party. No allegiances, no code of conduct but their own. And now this one wishes to dictate to us all of the things we are at fault for as though he stands on some sort of higher ground?”

Vera just shakes her head, dislike rotting into distaste on her tongue.

“Unbelievable. You still don’t think you have any blame to take in any of this.”

“Do you have any idea what I’ve done to keep this city safe?”

“Oh I’m well aware, mother,” the words lash out on the tip of her tongue; make Tonya recoil however slight. “In fact — that, that right there — that’s half the problem here! That’s exactly what Ryder’s talking about. You stand there actin’ like a martyr when all you’ve done—all you’ve really done—is bully, bribe, and threaten your way into power. How long do you think it’ll keep now?”

She’s no longer the woman who went running at the smallest sign of danger. It’s a thing to behold, really.

And Vera isn’t the only one. Even with all of his huffing and puffing Cal steps up and looks Kristof square in the eyes. There’s a set to his jaw and his eye is still a little purple but hell if he’s backing down now.

“Now don’t you go makin’ trouble for yerself, pup,” his kin warns, but what else could he possibly lose that he hasn’t already?

“Anyone who disagrees with you makes trouble.”

“Yeah, and?”

The younger wolf’s joints pop and crack as he cranes his neck from side to side. Both of them rearing to go even after everything.

“That’s no way to lead a pack.”

Kristof snorts through a cherry-red face. “An’ I take it you’ve got a lotta thoughts you been holdin’ in.”

“You could say that.”

“Until you’re an Alpha I don’t think you’ve got much of a say.”

“He may not, but I’ve a few thoughts, cher.”

There’s a very Et tu, Brute? vibe in how Octavia places herself in the familiar space between the argument. Back then and here in the now Octavia remains a voice of reason to compensate for the one her Alpha just doesn’t seem to have been born with.

His nostrils flare. “Tavvy…”

“I ain’t sayin’ the pup’s right, but you an’ I both know he’s got a point. Things have been good for us, Kristof. Good for the pack.”

“Yeah, why the hell d’you think that is?!”

“I’m not sayin’ you ain’t sacrificed to keep us goin’. An’ I’ve backed you up on every single thing to date. But Kristof Jensen so help me if you raise your voice at me again I will whoop your furry behind to kingdom come and that’s a promise.”

The Alpha and his Beta square off, eye to eye. She commands the space around her despite behind several heads shorter than him. Being part of a pack means something deeper than most can understand and it radiates out from them in viscous tension.

He’s an Alpha; he can’t back down. But she’s his partner — so she won’t.

And Cal, who can’t tell if he has the other wolf on his side or just not on Kristof’s, refuses to let himself be pushed out of the conversation.

“Uncle,” one word that snaps all attention back to him, “you picked up the pack when we needed it most. You know they’re grateful — you know I’m grateful —” and there’s something hidden unspoken in Cal’s words, something from before all this but can’t be held back any longer, “— you were the Alpha they needed when I couldn’t be.

“But the pack can’t be more important than the community it’s part of. You can’t pull away from the rest of New Orleans and call it keeping everyone safe. Not when it leads to shit like this.”

There’s so many emotions and reactions twisting on the Alpha’s scarred face; Taylor doesn’t even attempt to reach out to feel them for fear of empathy whiplash.

So he’s just as surprised as everyone — Cal and Octavia included — when the wolf deflates; sags his shoulders and reaches out for the Beta to find a home crooked under the weight of his arm.

“Now ain’t the time to get into the nitty-gritty.”

Before Cal can object, Octavia squares him away with a single glance. Maybe not now, but soon. And that’s more than before, so he’ll take it.

To everyone’s surprise Isadora steps forward with a steely eye.

“My father was no saint. Since inheriting his seat and estate I have come upon a number of… gruesome things; things he was content to keep from me, and no doubt from the rest of the Council.”

If anyone notices the way her eyes flick to Cadence, they don’t mention it. “But I think that is the point Ryder makes; we, this Council, are supposed to be the ones making decisions for the betterment of this proud city. Instead we have burrowed our heads in the sand, contented ourselves with turning a blind eye to one another’s wrongdoings lest our own come to light.

“We cannot continue like this. The Council will not survive it. New Orleans will not survive it.”

Murmurs of agreement echo throughout the foyer; Elric stands.

“We are tired; we are battle-worn. Yet we have ignored our obligations to the city for long enough I think. If we are to be the ones to bring about a positive change then the time to act is now.”

“Now?” asks Tonya in protest, “don’t you think we should postpone this — at least until Mardi Gras has settled?”

Nik drags two stools forward. Taylor takes the hint and he isn’t the only one — Krom and Ivy join him in grabbing chairs and other seats until everyone has a place to get comfortable.

“No time like the present.”

[thejackal64]

Pillars of Magic: Paradox | Chapter 5: The Starlight Guide

With the monsters and heavy atmosphere leaving them behind, they could finally somewhat let their guard down. Even with the wand in their possession, as long as they were in the Warnicorn Metro, they weren’t truly safe. Which Kasper so kindly pointed out.

“We need to get out of this stinking place. Like, 10 minutes ago.”

“All in due time,” responded Lucan.

“Due time?! What more in the hell do you want to do in here? Are you trying to find more ways to get us killed???”

“Will you calm down? There was nothing - not a sound, or a movement - ever since we started to climb the stairs. It is safe to assume that the worst is behind us. And in this case - literally behind us.”

“That doesn’t mean shit and you know it!”

“All right. Let’s test your theory of blood sucking monsters lurking behind our backs.” Lucan turned around and focused his sight into the distance. The tunnel was semi-lit, as many lights were broken due to passage of time. But even so, the sound coming from afar was what put it off. “Do you hear that?” he asked Kasper.

“What?”

“Exactly. Now, keep your irrational fear in check. Look at Kobi - he managed to calm down just fine. And that says something. Isn’t that right, Kobi?”

“Uhm.” His answer was short and barely audible. The reason why he was so calm. It was as if his whole world was in their newly acquired wand; it fascinated him. He didn’t know why, however, there was this warmth emanating from it. Whenever he started to feel anxious, he just looked at it and immediately felt like nothing could happen to him.

“See?”

“But…!”

“No buts! We are on our way out. I suggest to leave your doubts here as we march on.”

Kasper had plenty to tell, but no desire to go against him for all costs, so he decided to keep it to himself. He had a point though: as long as they were still in this forsaken place, anything could happen.

That anything happened a lot sooner than he anticipated, although not in a way he expected. The long and barebone tunnel they were walking in was up until this point lit with somewhat working lights, but after a certain point they went dark. The path clearly continued, but the light did not.

“Hmm,” pondered Lucan. “This is interesting.”

“Not the word I would have used.”

He turned back to check if there was a change in the scenery from which they came. “The lights are still working behind us, so unless the electricity is cut off in this particular place, we have to assume this sudden change has to have a meaning.”

“And what would that be?”

“Let’s see: if we take into consideration that we, supposedly, didn’t miss anything of value on our way here…”

“That’s a big if…”

“...then the logical conclusion would be that this place is hiding something important.”

“Important, you say…” Kasper went to check both walls on the sides by touching and even smashing them. “Nothing. This better not be some kind of stupid puzzle.”

“I don’t believe it is. Look.” He showed both of them what appeared to be a cutout in the ceiling above.

“A way out?”

“Most of the time problems tend to have simple solutions. And this appears to be the answer to our escape from this place.”

After he concluded his theory, all the lights in the hallway went off, except for the one near them.

“That was random,” noted Kasper.

“Or perhaps not.” He looked down at the wand he was holding in his hand. There were residual sparks flying around it and its colors were slightly less intense.

“I don’t like the idea of being led by inanimate objects.”

“I have to concur that this situation is bizarre, but so far it has been beneficial. It looks like it wants to get out as much as we do. We have a common goal, which is good for us.”

“That’s cool and all, but wands don’t have their own mind, right?”

“We don’t really know. Up until now we only knew about one - belonging to queen Omnia - and our knowledge about it is severely limited. For all we know they can even talk.”

“I hope not.”

“Whatever the case, we need to proceed with opening the hatch. Kobi?” Lucan reached his hand to Kobi to take the wand.

But the big guy wasn’t paying attention to anything they were saying. Strangely enough, even the loss of light didn’t throw him off. There was something special about the wand that was drawing all his attention.

Lucan softly laid his hand on his shoulder. “You alright?”

“I like it. Can I keep it?”

“I’m afraid not, as we are going to surface and others can’t see we have it. Its mere existence needs to be kept as secret.”

“But… But…”

“I’m sorry, but this is the way it needs to be. Now, hand it over, so I can hide in my backpack.” Even despite his direct approach, Kobi was still reluctant to let go of the wand. “You can hold it once we are back at HQ.”

“Will you keep it safe?”

“Absolutely.”

“O-Okay.” Still unsure, he gave this thing that was occupying his mind into his care.

“With this out of our way, we need to get a move on. Kobi, if you’d be so kind?”

The massive man reached out to the hatch above and with his strong hands grabbed its handle. By the sound it was making while he was trying to open it made it clear that this particular hatch hadn’t been used in a very long time. It tried its best to resist Kobi’s force, but eventually it gave way and loudly revealed a pathway leading straight up.

Lucan checked the tunnel with his flashlight. “Except for dust, somewhat narrow space and this uncomfortably rusty ladder, it looks safe for us to traverse. Kobi, you’ll take point, in case some unwanted surprises will be waiting for us and you Kasper will cover our back.”

“Let me guess: in case of unwanted surprises?”

Lucan peered into the darkness behind them and listened to its sounds. “As a precaution.”

“Uhm…”

“All right then. Let’s move.”

The tunnel was indeed narrow and Kobi wasn’t happy about it one bit. But even less happy were the two unfortunate souls below him; he was scrapping all the dirt as he was moving along, falling it down on them.

“Pfft-pfft! BLUEGH!!! Fuck, I will be cleaning my hair for weeks!”

“The sooner we’ll get out the better. Keep moving on, Kobi.”

As they were progressing with their ascent, the air was getting lighter and fresher. A clear sign of better things to come. All they had to do was to suffer some more dust and dirt.  And so they did in great disgust, until Kobi reported that he had reached the end.

“Finally, we can get out of this shithole!”

“But it’s shut!”

“What do you mean shut?!”

“I can’t move it.”

“Use your muscles, dammit!”

“I am. See? It won’t budge.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

“Kasper, wouldn’t you have something that could remove it?” asked Lucan.

“Sure I can remove it. And us along with it.”

“I meant something non-explosive.”

“I’m a demolitions expert, not a gardener.”

“Good point. Kobi, I’m sorry, but you are our only chance of getting out of here.”

“But it won’t move!”

“Are you sure you did your best?”

“Yes!”

“Your absolute best?”

“Y-Yes.”

“So you did everything you could to open that hatch…”

“Well- I mean-”

“You have to get it open. You are our only chance. Do you understand?”

“I do, but…”

“What?”

“The last time I opened something that was closed so hard I got arm aches.”

“You will have aches all over your body, if you don’t open the damn hatch!” yelled Kasper.

“The pain will subside over time,” Lucan was calming him down. “In fact, I should have something with me that should help you.”

“Really?”

“For sure. So, will you open it?”

“Errm, okay.”

With nervousness in his voice, he leaned against the hatch and gave all his strength into opening it. Kasper couldn’t see anything, but Lucan witnessed how his body was shaking and struggling to move the hatch, while the hatch was struggling to stay shut. To anyone else this would look like a pointless attempt, but he knew that when Kobi put all of his attention toward something, there was no obstacle he couldn’t overcome.

And so the unmovable object capitulated against the unstoppable force. How that went on, however, was unusual. The hatch did open, but before that it hit something and tossed it away. They couldn’t see what that was, or why there would be anything on top of the hatch, but, truth be told, they stopped concerning themselves with it almost immediately. The way out was open and they were just looking forward to leaving this mold-infested place for good.

Without much thought, they all jumped out cheering about their successful escape and consequently, the success of their mission. It did not take them long to notice that their surroundings were not quite what they were expecting to see. They thought that the tunnel would lead somewhere up onto a street if they were lucky or more likely into some random outlet in the middle of nowhere. This wasn’t nowhere. It was very specific somewhere and none of the five people occupying it couldn’t understand what the hell was happening.

“You didn’t anticipate this, didn’t you?” asked Kasper.

“No, I did not,” responded Lucan.

Albeit surprised, Kobi’s attitude was more uplifting than that of his colleagues. “Uhm hello?”

The only response he got came from a child standing next to a young girl, that appeared to be pregnant. “Hello.” Its voice was, despite the situation, surprisingly calm. As was the facial expression of the girl, although she was displaying some level of confusion as to what was going on.

All of this, of course, wasn’t lost on Lucan. It took him a moment to readjust to this new and unexpected situation, but his mind was already working on analyzing it. Puzzle pieces were starting to fall in their place and the picture they were creating was bizarre. The situation had the potential of turning it into a serious problem if left unchecked.

“Is this your sister?” asked Kobi to the child.

“No.”

This answer left him confused, but not Lucan.

“Is that…?” Kasper whispered over to him.

“It appears so.”

The place they were in was the living room of a house. But not just any house. One that clearly belonged to a wealthy family. Which was another matter entirely, one that would be too difficult to explain to someone like Kobi.

The rich inhabitants of Mewmans were basically living in a bubble. A dystopia in which nothing bad ever happened, just constant pleasures from dawn to dusk. They had no idea what was happening outside their lives, nor did they want to know, Omnia made sure of that. So when these two individuals saw their TV being thrown against the wall, followed by three unknown men coming out of a mysterious hole in the floor, they simply didn’t have the foggiest as to how to react.

Lucan took the initiative. “Are your masters home?” The girl didn’t say a word, just nodded her head in disagreement. “We are lucky. Uhm, please, sit down with your child, we will be on our way shortly. How old are you, if I may ask?”

“Fourteen,” answered the girl with a barely audible voice.

“Fucking hell!” reacted Kasper.

“And how old is this little angel?” he aimed his question at the child politely sitting next to her.

“I am three years old!” responded the kid with great pride.

“This is sickening!”

“They are getting desperate. Looks like the distribution of faulty DNA is speeding up even more in here than down there.”

“They can’t possibly keep doing this forever!”

“I’m afraid they can. And much worse than this. Anyway, we need to move. Her owners can get back any minute. Kobi, close the hatch tightly, and put all the stuff back in its place. With any luck, they won’t notice nothing.”

“But we can’t go out in these clothes. They would bring too much attention.”

“The regular folks would barely notice us, but random police patrol might have some uncomfortable questions I’d like to avoid answering. We need to blend in. Erm, girl, where do your masters keep clothing?”

“Upstairs in the bedroom. Do you want to go into bedroom?” The way she answered the question was a bit unsettling, but they were left with no choice but to play along.

“Uhm, yes, I suppose. Take us to the bedroom.”

“Stay here,” she told her child in a calm voice and led the duo of men upstairs.

While Kobi was keeping himself busy with fixing up the living room, Kasper with Lucan were led through the entrails of this luxurious household. Of course, the underground Resistance had basic information how upper Mewni looks like, but reading scarce information and experiencing it first hand proved to be different. For them, this place was indescribable.

“Here we are,” the girl pointed her hand toward a set of doors, which she then opened.

The room before them left each of them stood there in pure awe.

“Damn,” noted Kasper, “I feel cheap.”

“You are cheap. Here, the wardrobe. Help me out finding properly sized clothes.”

Despite their expectations, the contents of the wardrobe were even more luxurious than everything else they had seen so far in the house.

Kasper couldn’t believe his eyes. “I can appreciate a fancy fashion sense, but this is ridiculous! Check this shit out: this cloak has more gems on it then it has actual cloth!”

“We didn’t come here to criticize their choices in fashion. Take whatever fits your and Kobi’s sizes so we can go.”

“Already done.”

“Excellent.”

Having acquired all that they would need, they spun around to head for exit, but were greeted with a most unexpected offering.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” yelled Kasper.

“All right, now this is embarrassing even for me,” said Lucan, as he turned his head away.

“Why in the hell are you standing there naked?!”

“You said you wanted to go to bedroom.”

“For clothes, not you!”

“You don’t want me?”

“Are you stupid or something?”

“Leave her be. She doesn’t know she is doing something wrong. She was groomed into total and absolute obedience.”

“But we don’t own her.”

“That makes no difference to her.”

“You mean to tell me that if I would tell her to kill herself, she would do it?”

“Better to not say such things out loud.”

“Right.”

“Darling, take your clothes back up.”

“As you wish.”

“Then go down to your child and continue doing what you were doing before our arrival.”

She silently nodded and went back to the living room.

Lucan was keen to leave as soon as possible. “Quickly, let’s grab Kobi and get out before some similarly unfortunate occurrences can happen again.”

“Yeah, this place is fucked up.”

They expected an uneventful return and swift exit to the evening streets Mewni. With the girl in her place, they didn’t expect anything to happen that could hinder their intentions to return to HQ with the wand. Except for the sudden arrival of the owners of the household.

“What is the meaning of this?! Who are you and what are you doing in here?!”

Kasper looked at Lucan for answers.

“Hello!” It would end up being Kobi who first attempted to break the tension in the most unusual way. “We were just checking on your children.” His geniality was genuine, but as usual misplaced and made the whole situation a lot worse.

“What my colleague meant was that we… heard unusual sounds coming from your home and we… have decided to check if everything is right.”

“Do you take us for idiots?!”

“Yeah, pretty much,” responded Kasper with his typical flair.

That pushed the woman over the edge. “I’m calling the authorities!”

But something in the room had a different idea of how this mess could be resolved. At first, no one saw it. Afterwards though, despite Lucan’s backpack being thick, there was a slight glowing emanating from inside. And it was getting stronger with each second. Eventually Kasper took notice of it and alerted Lucan about it.

“Glowing? You mean… that thing?”

“What else in there can glow?”

As the light was getting stronger, the lights inside the house started to flicker. Both of them exchanged confused looks. But as fast as the situation got weird, it went back to normal, with the exception of a sudden change in the television broadcast:

“We interrupt this program to inform all the fair citizens of Mewni about the vicious attack of the so-called Resistance. Approximately fifteen minutes ago a large group of savage monsters killed several dozen peaceful Mewmans during their shopping spree in our biggest shopping center. The blood bath then continued throughout the streets where clueless citizens were stabbed and murdered in the most gruesome ways. The authorities are requesting that all remaining citizens run for the nearest sanctuary and wait for further instructions.”

The couple looked at each other nervously. They never thought that Resistance would ever be so stupid to launch a direct attack, so seeing intruders in their home didn’t make them think it could be one of them. They didn’t dare to move and neither did the trio. It was a stalemate, though nobody was clear on who was stalling who. With the desire to protect their assets being stronger than the fear of Resistance, they risked it, grabbed the girl and her child and went straight for the exit, while hastily giving her instructions what to do and how to behave. In just one minute the trio were left alone.

“What the hell just happened?” asked Kasper.

“I’m not sure,” responded equally confused Lucan.

“Did we really launch an attack?”

“That… doesn’t seem likely.”

“Do you think that…”

Lucan took down his backpack and reached into it to take out the wand. It wasn’t glowing anymore, but there was a subtle change in its color palette. “It appears to have awakened. Combining it with what happened in the metro, this suggests that perhaps wands do have… personality, for lack of a better word.”

“If that’s true, then I don’t even want to know what Omnia’s wand might be like.”

“With this in our possession, we can learn that pretty soon.”

“You really think that’s a good idea?”

“That’s ultimately up to the HQ, but I assure you they were pushing towards this very end for quite some time. Without the wand, the queen is just a regular mortal.”

“But with the wand she can smite us!”

“And that’s why with this we can finally push forward.”

“Even if that’s the case, do you really think we can control it?”

“One step at a time. Kobi, you all right?”

The big boy was sitting on the couch, obviously shaken and scared. “I don’t wanna go outside.”

“I’m sure nothing has happened.”

“R-Really?”

“Of course. We just, uhm... That was just to scare them off.”

“So there won’t be rivers of blood flowing down the streets?”

“Rivers of what? Where did you hear it?”

“Kasper told me what would happen if I didn’t keep up with you.”

“Really?” he pounded a rhetorical question, while he turned his head to impale his teammate standing next to him with his eyes. “We will talk about this later.”

“Oh come on! He wouldn’t shut up!”

“Kobi, put these clothes on. Before we go out, we need to blend in with the crowd. As for you, Kasper… Just stay silent. The last thing we need is Kobi panicking.”

With the home owners gone, wand neatly hidden away from sight and the trio clothed as wealthy Upper Mewmans, they were ready to start the return journey back to Mewni’s bowels. Which was now far more complicated than originally planned, as the safest route was some distance away and not used by the rich. So the only way to get back without attention was going deeper into the most extravagant part of the city. It was a part which they knew very little about. Their goal was to reach the manufacturing area, wherever that might be.

There they were. A trio of grown up men dressed in noble clothing they apparently didn’t like.

“I feel weird.”

“This will allow us to pass through the city undetected.”

“It’s itchy,” added Kobi.

This probably wasn’t helping their effort to blend in, however the biggest show was yet to come. The first to notice it was Kobi, who after witnessing the scene just a minute ago, got agitated. And there is nothing subtle about a huge man nervously looking around in a place that is considered to be a paradise.

Kasper noticed this sudden change in his behaviour and he wasn’t pleased by it. “Kobi, what the fuck has gotten into you?! Calm down or you’ll blow our cover!”

“The- The- The-”

“The-the-the what? There is nothing in here.”

With shaking hand, he pointed to Lucan’s glowing backpack. It was now even stronger than before.

“Lucan! Your backpack - it’s glowing again! And this time it looks like it’s trying to illuminate this whole fucking street!”

“Wait, what? Why would it be glowing?” He turned around, but saw nothing and no one out of the ordinary. “I see nothing suspicious.”

“Yeah, well, if your theory is true, then who knows what that thing is thinking it’s doing. And right now it’s pulling attention onto us!”

“But why?”

“You’re the one here with a big brain; you figure it out!”

While both of them were busy arguing among each other, Kobi’s fear locked his sight onto the magical light tearing its way out. So he was the only that noticed a change in the way the light was shaped. Despite being covered under a thick layer of textile, the glow was slowly, but steady shifting, as if following something. Fear or not, Kobi’s natural curiosity took over and made him to check what exactly it was that the wand was pointing to. It didn’t take him long to find it on the other side of the street and his eyes locked onto the object, he had trouble understanding it. So he asked Lucan to help him out by tapping him on his shoulder.

“Not now, Kobi.”

But he didn’t allow himself to be denied, so he tapped him again and this time with greater force.

“Kobi, that hurts! What is happening to you?”

Instead of replying, he pointed with his finger to an object that was apparently moving. To anyone else, said object wasn’t anything special, but to them seeing this particular object was a shocking revelation.

“This cannot be…”

But it was. Against all rational thought and logic, the girl from the metro was there. Granted, clothed differently and the makeup certainly changed her looks somewhat, but there was no mistake that it was her.

“How the fuck is this even possible?”

“Kasper, look at the light. What do you see?”

And he saw the exact same thing as Kobi. “It is-”

“-moving? Then we were right. That girl is the owner.”

“But how is this possible?”

“You’re as curious as I am, but our current predicament demands immediate attention: she is the key to unlocking the wand’s full power.”

“Well, that is nice and all, but how do you propose to, uhm… use her?”

“First, we need to retrieve her.”

“That doesn’t really answer my question.”

“One step at a time. We need to-”

But before he could finish his thought, the girl entered a cab in great haste.

“Hmm. This is unfortunate.”

“Not the word I would have used.”

“Tell me, what is the wand doing right now?”

“Still pointing to her.”

“As I expected. There is a connection between them. That connection will allow us to follow her wherever she goes.”

“So you’re saying that we need to follow the light…”

“I hope that your ability to stay incognito is better than your puns. Keep my backpack closed and peek inside only when necessary. Move out.”

Shortly after that, the cab started to move away from them. Even despite being covered by local clothes, the unpredictable nature of the mission worried him. Back in his head, Lucan was aware of the immense risk he was exposing himself and his team to. Still, he was hoping that by the time anyone would have any questions about their business in there, they would be long gone.

Having proper clothes was only one part of being undercover. The other that was equally important was having proper behaviour. Lucan could pretend to be a native upper Mewmans, but Kasper had to keep peeking into his backpack, which was weird on its own. Further worrying was Kobi, who was having a field day, and he wasn’t shy of making it obvious.

“Kobi!” Kasper rebuked him. “Stop eyeballing everything and everyone around you! You look like a tourist!”

“But it’s so pretty in here!”

“This ain’t a fucking vacation! Being undercover means avoiding attention, not to stick every eyeball in the damn city onto us!”

Kobi tried to heed his warning, but he was like a child in a fun park; behind every corner there was a fascinating new light, interesting shape, mesmerizing colors and… beautiful young girls in every direction. Each step they took bolstered their numbers.

“Damn,” said Kasper. “If I didn’t know better I’d say this place is a giant brothel.”

Lucan nodded. “Indeed. Their number seems excessive.”

“Do you think that everyone is using them like we saw in that family?”

“Such a theory is hardly far fetched. That being said, we aren’t here to play moral police. Every extra minute spent here means increased danger of being uncovered. It is imperative that we find her in the shortest time possible.”

“Yeah, about that. We might have a slight issue.” Kasper noticed that the wand was pointing to a place where all the girls seemed to be gathering. It wasn’t surrounded by any walls, so they could take a good look at it.

“Seems to be a market of some kind,” noted Lucan. “And you say the girl is inside?”

“It looks like it.”

“We don’t have any other choice then. We’ll go in, but incognito, alright? The last thing we need is to attract unwanted attention.”

Trying not to raise suspicion among the buyers minding their own business, they calmly stepped into the outer ring. No one noticed their arrival.

“Huh, this was easy,” noted Kasper.

But Lucan saw it differently. “They all look almost the same,” he whispered. “And we can’t rely on the wand's guidance in here without risking exposure.”

“So what do you propose then? That we ask around?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We need to do this the hard way: we split up and look for her.”

“Really? That’s your ingenious plan? Did you look at our big idiot in here? He’s this close from drooling all over his suit. We let him alone and he’ll end up befriending one of these ladies.”

“Hmm, that’s actually a good point.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

“Then perhaps we can-”

“You’re thinking too much. Here, let me show you how the master does it. Hey, Kobi!”

“Hmm?”

“I saw two policemen behind us.”

“Oh no.”

“What are you doing?” asked Lucan.

But Kasper ignored him. “Oh no is right, because they saw you looking at girls all the time and now they want to arrest you!”

“Bu- Bu- I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“They don't care. You broke their law and now they want to imprison you and torture you!”

“…?!?!”

“My point exactly. So we need to create chaos to ditch them. Can you do that?”

If there was something Kasper was even better at than demolition was getting under Kobi’s skin. It didn’t take long for the big guy to react to this information; he spread his arms and started to run, while moving them around and yelling various sounds. That did get a  reaction out of the buyers, but he felt they needed a little nudge. “There’s a fucking maniac on the run! Save yourselves!”

Lucan couldn’t believe his eyes. “What did you just do?!”

“Helped! Look - nobody is paying attention to us.”

“But now she will run away from us!”

“So what? We have her wand to show us where she is and no one to bother us.”

“No one except for the policemen that were alarmed by this.”

“Oh…”

“As usual, you acted before thinking it through. Now we need to hurry and look for her before security will come to look for us.”

Kasper couldn’t deny that he liked what he saw. Kobi was off the leash, making his way through everyone like an angry bull and even destroying a few merchandise stands along the way. It was like witnessing an explosion up close without the fear of losing limbs. It was poetic.

Lucan on the whole was more worried of losing the girl, although to be fair he had lost her once already a few minutes ago. Except this time she was within his grasp, maybe even running alongside him, but because of all the people running around he couldn’t possibly see her. He found it to be unacceptable.

Kobi was in full blown panic mode. The idea of him feeling pain was so scary that he couldn’t stop rampagning the place. No matter what, he was determined to remain free. That determination wasn’t getting weaker even after glancing at the second exit on the other side. The way to it was surprisingly empty, since very few people have a reason to run that way. Except for one. It was this person in particular that made him stop and calm down enough to recognize the silky smooth blond hair waving in the air.

“Why the hell did you stop?!” shouted Kasper. “They can be right behind us!”

“The girl…”

Lucan instantly locked his sight onto the place he was referring to. “Excellent job, Kobi! Lead the way!”

Most of the people were already gone, which made the pursuit much easier. That was the good news. The bad news was that the girl managed to step into yet another cab and was driving away.

“Unbelievable…” said Lucan.

“Well, that just happened. Now what, big boss?” asked Kasper.

“We follow her, what else.”

Kasper made sure that no one is watching them, then opened his backpack to check on the wand's guiding light. It was there all right, but the light wasn’t as bright as before. “It appears it’s getting weaker.”

“We need to hurry. Now, where is it pointing to?”

Kasper focused his sight into distance. He couldn’t believe his own eyes. “Uhm, manufacturing area… Why would she go there of all places?”

“I don’t know. But this plays to our cards. There is a guarded entrance to the lower levels. With any luck, the guards will stop her and guard her long enough for us to pick her up.”

“And how do you suggest we do that?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

Having a clear vision of their goal made their traveling a lot simpler. They checked, subtly, several times to confirm that they weren’t being followed, but this close to the industrial district there were fewer and fewer people to see. Mewmans weren’t interested in how their stuff was being made, they only cared about when and where they could purchase it. This meant that seeing a group of wealthy individuals in these parts was highly unusual.

The shine of the healthy Upper Mewni was fading away, as the dirt and dust of the industrial zone began creeping in. Where their surroundings were once shiny and bright buildings, what they saw became grim, grimy replacements for their shiny counterparts. Architecture was also changing, more abruptly too, replacing extravagant designs with dull and boring shapes copied from one building onto the next one. Scarce lamps were casting shy lights onto this saddening scenery.

They felt at home here.

Seeing familiar surroundings gave them a much needed confidence boost. They felt like they could understand this place, its inner workings and unwritten rules, despite still being within spitting distance of the queen’s domain. And as they were getting closer to the massive buildings hiding huge machines, the need to come up with the plan was becoming more and more urgent.

Lucan raised his head. “We have arrived.”

Even without the gate, the complex structures ahead were clear signs that this wasn’t the regular Upper Mewni anymore. Still, despite the surroundings being more familiar, their intactness made it all a bit alien to them; their siblings below were vastly damaged. Surprisingly, they didn’t see a single soul, no worker of any kind passed by as they were moving among the monumental buildings and complicated pipes, even though the hum was a clear indication that the machinery was working.

“It must be controlled remotely,” thought Lucan.

Kasper raised his eyebrow. “What kind of power source are they using?”

“Magic, probably.”

“Magic?! They are digging their own graves with it!”

“They apparently don’t care and neither should you. We have a pressing matter on our hands. Look up ahead.”

They focused their eyes into the foggy distance where they saw a glimmering light.

“Is that what I think it is?” asked Kapser.

“Indeed.”

“So what’s your plan then?”

“Kobi.”

The big man looked at him with visible confusion. But Kasper knew exactly what he meant. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am.”

“What happened to stealth?”

“That is a luxury we cannot afford anymore. Taking the girl takes priority. She is the key to our success.”

“Don’t you think that’s a bit far fetched?”

“Our opinions have no place in this matter. The fact is that she has the ability to unlock the wand’s potential.”

“Yeah, about that, it isn’t glowing anymore.”

“It doesn’t need to. We know where she is.”

“No, we know where she went. For all we know she might be on her way to the queen.”

“The wand would show us that if it were true.”

“You can’t know that for sure.”

“Silence. We’re going in.”

The atmosphere in this lifeless part of the city was eerie, maybe even spooky for the faint of heart. But the three persons lurking through its mist weren’t interested in how the place felt. Their goal lay on the opposite side, where they hoped to reunite a long lost pair.

It was almost a miracle to catch up with her. They hid behind a container near the entrance to the lower Mewni and inspected the scene. Lucan was right: the guards did hold her. Unfortunately for them they didn’t stall her long enough. The only thing they saw from her was her back passing through the gate. She was out of their reach once again and this time going to a place that could very well shorten her existence.

Lucan was baffled. “She wanted to enter lower Mewni this whole time?”

And so was Kasper. “This girl… I don’t know if she is so smart, or so stupid, but her chances of survival just lowered to the minimum.”

“Whatever reasons she has, her going to our domain has the upside of us knowing it better than her. We can finally gain an advantage.”

“Yeah, that’s a cool plan and all, but how do you want to go through the security guards? The moment they see us they’ll be onto us like flies on a pile of shit.”

Maybe they heard him, because both guards ran out of the security both, however in the opposite direction.

“They are after her!” noted Kasper.

“I can see that,” responded Lucan. “We need to act quickly. Kobi, stop them! They can’t reach her!”

It was always amazing for them to watch him run. Despite his massive size, Kobi could run fast. And there are not many things scarier than seeing a huge ball of muscle running at you at full speed. The guards were so focused on catching the girl that they didn’t notice his heavy footsteps gaining on them. Once they did, it was too late; Kobi grabbed their heads and smashed them together. They both instantly went down to the ground.

Lucan and Kasper quickly caught up with him. They checked their life signs.

“Alive,” Lucan informed.

“Yeah, this one too.”

“Is that a bad thing?” asked Kobi confused.

“No no, this is good,” Lucan assured him.

“But that is not good,” added Kasper. “Look - the elevator is on its way down.”

“That is troublesome. But we can still catch up with her. She is now entering our domain, which will finally give us the advantage.”

“Let’s just hope others won’t take advantage of her before we can catch up to her.”

“Stay positive.” Once it stopped, he pressed the button to call it. “Time to go home.”

Everything was greasy, smokey and dirty. The air was heavy and smelled like wet dog. Sunshine was nowhere to be found and everything was artificially illuminated. They were indeed home. The upper citizens never saw this place, they never learned how exactly it looked, nor had they ever cared. But if one of them happened to end up in here, they would probably start screaming and senselessly running around.

At least, that was the general consensus among those living in this swamp. When they stepped out of the smelly old elevator, they were expecting to see her to keep doing just that. But she was nowhere to be seen.

Kasper grabbed his head. “What the hell is this girl?! Is she fucking with us or what?!”

Lucan took a calmer approach, although it was apparent that he too wasn’t happy how the whole situation was unravelling in front of his eyes. “Press on. There is only one way from here. She couldn’t possibly could get far.”

“Yeah? And what the hell makes you think that?! We have been chasing her for a good half an hour without much success!”

Lucan ignored his remarks and led his comrades deeper into subterranean Mewni, where law was just a differently labeled rule book. It was for this very reason that he was worried and keen to find her pronto. Down here, the line between crime and police was so blurred that more often than not it all came down to how you spelled them. The society basically consisted of different anarchist groups breathing down each others’ necks.

All these descriptions were running through Lucan’s mind when he was observing the scene from afar, hidden behind a pile of trash on the side of the street, witnessing her being cornered by a bunch of people. “We are in trouble.”

“What else is new…”

But Kobi felt optimistic. “I can go there and just take her away. Gently, of course.”

“As appealing as it sounds, we cannot do that. We don’t know what exactly is happening over there, or who she is with. We could endanger her life.”

“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I agree with Kobi. She obviously isn’t having a fucking tea party with those people and while they are all focused on her, we can just fly in, break their skulls and just as fast flee away with her finally in our possession.”

“I said no. We don’t have the complete picture. It’s too risky.”

“Listen-”

“After her! Don’t let her get away!”

“What?”

They all focused their sight into the distance. The girl managed to run some distance away, but was apprehended shortly after. Luckily for them, the place they were standing in now was lit well enough to recognize her followers.

“They’re just a regular street thugs! Surely we can take them down, right?”

“Yes! Kobi, yo-”

But before he could give them instructions, he was interrupted by a siren and a pair of blue/red light. The situation just got a lot worse.

“Oh for fuck sake, give me a break! When will this shitshow end?!”

“Shh, just watch.”

And so he watched. He watched as the thugs fled the scene. He watched as an officer stepped out of the car, approached the girl, and after a short talk, as she went into the car with him. Then he watched as the car drove away.

“This… complicates things,” noted Lucan.

“You think?!”

“Of all people it had to be Toffee.”

“I don’t like the lizard man,” added Kobi.

“Yeah, well, nobody does, that’s the fucking point. Who knows what he will do with her.”

“Toffee isn’t stupid. He will recognize her value.”

“That doesn’t really make it any easier for her. His ‘values’ are fucked up.”

“Agreed. Which is why we are going to retrieve her from him.”

“And how do you intend to do that?”

“With you.”

Kasper gave him a long, empty stare. “You can’t be serious.”

“We are close enough to the HQ now. In the event of an onslaught, we call for backup.”

“HQ won’t risk a full on war with the police department!”

“They will once they learn the value of our mission!”

“That’s crazy! You’re crazy!”

“It is imperative to capture the girl before Toffee realizes her potential. Try to imagine what would happen then.”

“That’s- that’s a good point. But I still don’t like it.”

“Your liking it is not required, only your obedience. Let’s go.”

As they were moving towards local police headquarters, the street was getting weirder and branching out in all directions into smaller roads. Seeing people walking outside was more prevalent, leaving the dark alleys behind. In any other place this would mean increased security. Not here. The only change was the increased means of getting attacked. People living here weren’t fond of bonding, so more likely than not they were forging paths just as a means to an end. Those who actually did stick together were seen as dangerous to the goals of others. And the most coherent group among them all was the Resistance.

Seeing their members walking on the street always piqued interest among locals, but seeing them dressed in fancy dresses from the surface had their full attention. Lucan was aware of this, as well as of the reaction of management, but his resolve couldn’t be shaken by a few uptight rules. He knew that once they learned about the wand and the girl, they would be vindicated. All he had to do was blow up some walls and survive the aftermath.

Instead, it was his plan that blew up. They were on their way when they saw a massive explosion. Someone had beat them to it. People were running and screaming in every direction in pure panic mode. They were used to seeing a regular amount of street violence, but this was too much even for them.

“What is happening here?” said Lucan in disbelief.

Kasper was also looking at the damaged building with an open mouth. “Who would be stupid enough to attack the police like that?! I mean, I admire the pure stupidity of the person, but still. Wait, who is that running away?” Due to the smoke he had trouble recognizing the person’s face, however one short window of clear air was enough for him to realize who it was. “It’s the bitch that wanted to rob the girl! What the fuck does she think she’s doing?!”

Before she disappeared in one of the side alleys, she stopped and yelled: “That’s what you get for fucking with me, you pigs! MUHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

“How the fuck did she get explosives like that?! That’s military grade stuff!”

Lucan had trouble processing the whole scene. The whole time he was chasing the blond girl, always being one step behind, always being careful with every decision he made. And this crazy person just walked in and blew up a huge chunk of wall, made a joke of it and left. He liked challenges, but the constant flow of failures ever since they left the Warnicorn Metro finally got to him.

“We’re going in!”

Kasper looked at him in shock. “Are you crazy?! They’d be onto us the second we step foot inside!”

“This is not up for debate! We are done playing second fiddle! She is in there and we need to collect her while they are stunned. It’s now or never. Now move!”

With the air being filled with thick fog form the explosion and with Kobi on point acting like a plow, the trio went to the rubble surrounding the entrance to the building. The structure itself wasn’t extremely big, as many of its contents were hidden below the ground. Despite that it was still big enough to get lost in it. The explosion gave them two advantages: first, there was no one outside who could watch them entering the precinct, but most importantly the officers inside were either unconscious or barely standing.

“It’s the resistance!”

Alas, there were a few that strongly objected to their presence.

“They broke through to the prison cells!”

“Are they in the basement?!”

“Get the steamhounds! Don’t let them escape!”

Luckily, Kobi and his fist were there to put all of them to sleep with a few good aimed slaps. He was extra motivated to keep them out cold as he hated those awful creatures.

All the major parties in lower Mewni were keeping tabs on each other, so they had a general idea of where to look, though dust and rubble all around them made the search somewhat difficult.

“Do you see the stairs leading down?” asked Lucan.

“Stairs?!” responded Kasper. “I can barely see Kobi and he’s fucking huge! But Lucan, they think we did this!”

“I don't care what they think! Just keep looking! She is somewhere in here! We can’t leave without her!”

Time was pressing them and the dust was setting down too slowly. As the seconds were passing, the weight of the current situation was weighing on them. The longer they were there, the bigger the risk of facing an overwhelming opposing force, against which even Big Boy wouldn’t do much. The diplomatic incident was unavoidable at this point, so the only thing they could hope for was for the HQ to have their backs. And for that they needed the girl.

“I see it!” informed Kobi, triumphantly.

“Where???” asked Lucan.

“In the right corner. There are damaged doors.”

“Excellent work! Go to them and smash them open! We need to hurry!”

It was always fascinating to watch Kobi being so swift for his size. It took him a mere seven seconds to move himself in front of the doors and push them off of their hinges. They made a loud screech and landed a few meters down on the stairwell.

“Go, go, go!”

They found the correct room. They knew that because of Toffee’s limp body lying in the dust. And also because their quarry was gone.

“Where is she?!” shouted Lucan, who was clearly losing it. “WHERE IS SHE?!!!”

“I don’t know, alright?!” yelled back Kasper.

But Kobi kept his cool. “Maybe she escaped by there?” he asked as he was pointing his finger to the rather small entrance in the wall.

Like a hawk suffering from caffeine overdose, he moved his head like lightning to the spot on the neighbouring wall. There was indeed an opening. With a swift movement he came closer and inspected it for clues.

“It’s a small cargo elevator! It looks like she used it to escape! We need to get out!”

Sadly, even his quick thinking wasn’t fast enough to avoid the inevitable.

“Search everything, room by room! Don’t leave a single piece of rubble untouched! We need to find Toffee!”

Kasper was first to react. “Shit! Now what!”

Lucan looked on into the opening. “We can use that to escape!”

“Are you nuts??? That thing is so small that maybe, just maybe I would be able to fit through, but certainly not you and sure as hell not Kobi.”

“No…”

“I’m sorry, but this might be the end of the line for us.”

“NO! I refuse to give up! You… Blow our way out!”

“Did you hit your head?! I’d send this whole thing down onto us!”

“I COMMAND YOU!”

“You can shove your command up your ass! I ain't doing it!”

With the policemen on top, no way out, and Lucan being on the verge of complete mental breakdown, the tension could be sliced into pieces. All seemed hopeless and without a positive resolution in sight.

“Uhm, guys?”

“WHAT?!” they both shouted.

“I think the wand is trying to do something.”

Lucan quickly regained at least part of his sanity. “What?” He quickly took down his backpack and brought out the wand. It was glowing like before, but now the intensity of the light was constantly rising. After mere seconds they couldn’t see anything but bright white light filling up the room. All the sounds and voices subsided and were replaced by a subtle white noise, filling up their minds. Lucan couldn’t focus and neither could Kasper. Kobi, on the other hand, was smiling. He had no problem looking directly into it, as if the ridiculous illumination didn’t bother his eyes at all. He was just standing there, feeling content and happy.

“Yes,” he agreed, although there was no voice heard.

He reached out for the wand, locked his massive palm around it and removed it from Lucan’s grasp. The moment he lost touch with it he was tossed away together with Kasper against the stone wall. The impact was strong, but thankfully not damaging. They carefully tried to stand up, which resulted in painful moans.

“I’m not getting enough money for this kind of shit,” lamented Kasper. “What happened?”

“I haven’t the foggiest. All I know I was holding the wand and then Kobi- Wait.”

“What?”

“Where is the wand?!”

“What do you mean?”

“I was holding it in my hand! And now it’s gone!”

“What the hell?! How is that even possible!”

“I don’t know!”

“Lucan?”

“Yes?”

“Where is Kobi?”

They inspected the place, but aside from Toffee’s motionless body, they were alone. Neither Kobi nor the wand was anywhere to be found.

Kobi’s body was thrown against a wall.

“Ouch!”

It took him a while to sort out his thoughts over the past few seconds. Slightly confused, he looked around. “Guys?” He noticed that he was alone, standing in a narrow alley that ran between a dirty building behind his back and an intriguing one made up from gaudy bricks. The windows on them were covered in dark colors, so he couldn’t see what was inside. Yet strangely he felt he belonged there. It was then that he realized that his hand wasn’t empty. He raised it up and noticed the wand still being securely locked inside his palm.

“I remember now!” he called out happily. “But I need to hide it.” As he was searching for something to cover it with, he saw a familiar object resting on the ground near him. “Lucan’s backpack. But where is he?” Kobi looked around, but he was the only one around. “And where is Kasper?” He once again took a look at the wand. “I can’t wait for them. I promised. I’ll take you there.”

After hiding it inside, he took a journey deeper into the depths of the alley. He wasn’t clear on where exactly he needed to go. The only thing he had was a sense of a general direction in which he should go. The road he was walking on didn’t look like anything special. Aside from the weird looking building, which he never saw before, there was nothing that would tell him he was getting anywhere close to his goal.

His train of thought was abruptly interrupted by a massive explosion behind him.

“What was that?!”

It was this moment when the realization of him being completely alone hit him with full force. There was always someone with him, telling him what to do. The prospect of being on his own terrified him and he had trouble remembering why he was even there. He calmed down a bit after he noticed a colorful glimmer coming from the backpack. He peeked inside and noticed the wand emanating a wide range of colors.

“You’re… welcome,” he responded precariously. This and the weird creaking sound from above were the last thing he remembered before everything went black.

“I see him! Come over here!”

Both men quickly approached Kobi lying unconscious under a pile of rubble.

“Is he alive?”

“I feel his pulse and I don’t see any fracture on his back or head. He looks fine, just beaten.”

“Wake him up.”

The man took a small vial and let him smell its contents. It didn’t take long for him to abruptly wake up and start to catch his breath.

“Relax, slow down your breathing. You’re under some rubble, but otherwise alive. Can you stand up?”

Kobi tried to recognize the two men standing over him. “Kasper? Lucan?”

“Can you stand up?” Kasper repeated.

“Y-Yeah, I- I think so.” It took him some effort, but the debris wasn’t too heavy.

“Where were you all this time?” asked Lucan.

“I don’t understand.”

“You were lost for two weeks. Where were you?”

“Two weeks? But I came here a minute ago.”

“After you escaped with the wand and my backpack, we crawled through the elevator shaft. We barely made it out. But you were nowhere to be seen. We tried to come back a few days later and searched for you, but you were simply gone.”

“Bu- I’m not…” Confused, he looked at Kasper.

“Don’t look at me.”

“I don’t- Wand told me to go here. I thought this is where the girl is. I came here and then I saw that thing falling onto me and then… Kasper woke me up.”

“Is that so? Where is the wand then?”

“It’s right…” He pointed to the place where he expected it to be. “...there. Where- I had it in your backpack.”

“The backpack is here, but it’s empty.”

Kobi didn’t know what to say.

“Us, being surrounded at the police station? That happened two weeks ago.”

“Two weeks? I remember… touching the wand and then being here.”

“Why did you even touch it, Kobi?”

“It spoke to me.”

“Really? It talked to you?”

“Yes. It wanted me to take it here.”

“Why?”

“I thought it was telling me where the girl is. I knew how much you wanted to get to her, so I just did it. I shouldn’t do that?”

“Kobi, whatever I or Kapser think is meaningless. The HQ believes you’re an inside man.”

“Who?”

“Yeah, that’s what I kept telling them. But after they learned what we were bringing back and that we failed, they got… upset.”

“But I was trying-”

“Look, the moment we detected a magical surge, they wanted to send a security detail to investigate it. But I convinced them that in case it’ll be you, it would be more prudent if we would bring you in.”

“Bring me… in?”

“I’m sorry, Kobi, but it’s out of my hands. Was for two weeks now.”

He looked confused and scared at both of them. Even Kasper wasn’t happy with the situation.

“Come. You have a lot to answer for.”

[wolfpawn]

The Art of Survival

Chapter 7

Summary- Fianna wakes up and conversed with Charlotte, leading to some warnings and explanations.

Fianna woke and groaned. Her head was hurting and her vision was almost fuzzy. Laing had woke her several times during her sleep, much to her annoyance throughout the night but he stated that it was for her safety, to ensure she could wake. All she wanted was to rest. As well as her head hurting terribly, her muscles ached all over her body; from her chest to her legs, everything felt as though she would never be pain free again.

All night long, Laing kept her against him, smothering her in the affection his mind had been obsessing with, finally being able to avail of the opportunity to do so. She could not recall much from the night but she recalled his arms around her for the entirety of it. On this waking, she noted Laing was nowhere to be seen.

She meekly got out of the bed, hissing in pain as she did so and got to her feet. Her progress across the room hampered by the fact her vision was hazy and in her mind, the room was spinning. She crashing painfully into the door frame and grabbed onto it, knowing she would be bruised on her shoulder as a result.

'Well, that went well.’

Fianna focused on Charlotte's oncoming form, knowing that the fact the other woman was doing so in a manner that was neither straightforward or easy to follow may possibly have absolutely nothing to do with her current concussed state. 'As well as can be expected, all things considered.’ She retorted.

'Is that why you crashed into the door?’ Charlotte smiled.

'Better that than onto the floor.’ She leant against the door, feeling her body feel too warm and finding it hard to catch her breath. 'Where is…?’

'Checking your traps, apparently. I was told to stay here in case you woke to tell you to stay still.’ She inhaled deeply from her cigarette, allowing the smoke remain in her body for a moment before exhaling again. 'And here we are.’

'I am surprised you did as he said.’

'Well, you dying would be rather inconvenient, you are, after all, the food provider around here.’

'Yes, that, and however would you get cigarettes from Arthur Byrne otherwise?’ Fianna chuckled. Charlotte looked at her bewildered by her knowledge of such things. 'I pay Mr Byrne in cigarettes to pass his floor. I pay him specifically in those cigarettes, the ones you are smoking at present.’

'Anyone could have these.’ Charlotte pointed out.

'Before this, yes, but I control the supply of cigarettes here now and I specifically give only that brand to him, the same as I only give certain other brands to other people.’

'Why?’

'To keep an eye on the lay of the land. Who barters with who, who is in cohorts with who.’

'Bullshit.’ Charlotte declared, half in shock, half in amazement.

‘To know what people want, so I can ensure I also can give it to them, I need to know what they have access to. It makes it easier then. So you having them tells me you liaise with Byrne.’

'You really are something else. What are you, are you in the military?’

'Just observant.’ Fianna shrugged.

Charlotte said nothing for a moment before commenting again. 'The day I first met you, who was that guy?’ Fianna looked at her blankly. 'Tall fellow, weird accent.’

Fianna shook her head. 'Just some delivery guy. Why?’

'Looked like you knew him. He was a good shag.’

Fianna could not help but look at Charlotte and laugh. 'You really would shag anything.’

It was not said with malice, which Charlotte realised immediately. She shrugged. 'He was good looking. I'm surprised you didn't.’

'Not my sort of thing.’

'You don't like men?’

Fianna scoffed. 'No, I like men, that's not an issue. It's the laissez faire approach to fucking random men I just don't see the appeal of.’

Charlotte leant against the wall. 'I thought you'd be too stuck up to say “fuck”.’

'I'm not, evidently.’

'Robert will be delighted to hear you like men. I think that's been bothering him.’ Fianna gave an bewildered look. ‘He is obsessed with you.’

'I'm sure.’ Fianna dismissed.

'Believe me or not, I don't particularly care, but he is. All he does is look for you, write about you in his little notebooks and even wank to the idea of you. It's almost pathetic really, throw the poor guy a bone and let him fuck you. He's good at it, he's the best there is here even before all of this.’

'I am not going to fuck him.’

‘Why not?’ If anything, Charlotte seemed offended.

'Well, for one thing, the last thing I need to risk is getting pregnant in this.’

'Wait, you are still bleeding? In this, really?’ Charlotte asked curiously.

'You've….?’

'Well, I got my tubes tied after Toby, so I don't count but you must be the only woman here that is.’

'No, that's not possible.’

'I beg to differ.’ Charlotte smirked. 'Lucky you.’ If she did not feel like death warmed up, Fianna would have argued more. As it stood, she could barely stand. 'Come on.’ Charlotte urged. Wearily, Fianna followed her to the balcony where Charlotte indicated for her to sit down. She did so and was handed a pot of stewed pigeon and some tinned vegetables. She looked at Charlotte worriedly. 'I haven’t poisoned it.’

'I know. You're not stupid.’

'Then why the distrust?’

'No one willingly leaves food around.’

‘You need to recover. Like I said, you are the food source here.’

Warily, Fianna leant forward and gently took a spoon of food. As soon as the first mouthful was finished, she shoved another spoonful in. Before long, she wolfed the entire contents, Charlotte saying nothing as she smoked another cigarette. When she finished, Fianna leant back and sighed. It was as though she could feel the food entering her veins to help her body. 'Where is my dog?’

'Robert has it.’

Fianna nodded her head. 'Thank you.’

'I think that's the first time I have heard that from anyone in six months and the first time ever from you.’

'We never had reason to speak, much less for me to be grateful to you for anything.’

'Do you dislike me that much, Fianna Butler?’

Fianna looked at her and huffed slightly. 'I don't hate many people, Charlotte Melville and I am sorry to disappoint you but you're not on the list.’ Charlotte chuckled slightly. 'That's what I dislike about you though, the sneakiness. The need to snoop others while making sure they know as little as possible about you.’

‘I love to talk about me, what do you want to know?’

'Nothing, I don't give a shit, never did.’ Fianna responded. 'I was curious for a time, how a woman with no visible employment could possibly afford a better home than even dentists and college lecturers but then I realised how and I realised, I just don't care.’

'How did I do it so?’ Charlotte asked, curious to see what Fianna had figured out.

'Toby's father.’

Charlotte found herself smiling slightly and nodding. 'You're right.’ She conceded. 'He gave it to us. And do you know who he was?’

‘No, and I don't care. I realised after I got that far that it is none of my concern. I just don't care about it.’ Fianna stated, leaning back in her chair. ‘My business is me.’

'You're better than most here were. They never stopped trying to figure it out.’

'Is that why you did nothing upstairs, you didn't want to be around busybodies?’

'Among other things.’ Charlotte answered. 'Ann Royal had plans for me, to have me be demeaned and scorned at. I had my share of her and her attitude before the world fell apart, looking down on me and acting as though me and my son were nothing more than a dirty mark on her and her husband…’ The was vitriol in Charlotte's words that were more vicious than could be deemed normal in general conversation and it caused Fianna to realise the missing part of the puzzle.

'I see.’ Charlotte looked at her. 'I see the logic in your reasons.’

Charlotte pursed her lips. 'You're the only one.’

‘You don't have to explain it to anyone. Your reasons are yours.’ She paused for a moment before laughing. 'I know you better now in this few minutes than I did the whole time I lived here.’

'I thought I knew you.’ Charlotte commented.

'No one knows me. The only people who ever did have died, even before this.’ Fianna stated bitterly.

'Did those boys do that to you?’ Charlotte indicated to Fianna's injuries. Fianna nodded. 'Did they do more?’ Fianna shook her head. 'You're lucky you're so strong.’

'You looked worse after Wilder. To keep standing after that, you're even stronger.’ Fianna looked at Charlotte, still not able to see her properly. 'Did you help kill him?’

'Yes.’ There was a hint of pleasure in her tone.

'Good.’ Fianna rose to her feet again feeling a little better. She stumbled slightly but made her way inside, Charlotte remaining on the balcony.

She looked around the clean apartment, her eyes not able to focus on much but her thoughts going back to what Charlotte had said about Robert and his desires. She sighed. In a different world, perhaps Laing would be someone to consider but she always wanted a proper partner, not a bed partner and from what Charlotte had said, he was not a man for such things back then, she heard from Wilder's wife also of his escapades but in the current climate, with the risks as they were, it was not an option. He was good looking, but not enough so to make stupid mistakes. She walked over to his table of notes and looked at it.

Laing had not even attempted to tidy it away. There in front of her, were detailed notes about her that even Fianna had not taken notice of in her own appearance. Her freckles were documented, even her acne scars, everything was noted. She looked through the notes, focusing in her dizzy state on the ramblings of words. It was startling. Charlotte was right, the notes were there, including some that seemed to be in shorthand code. She tried focusing more in hopes of it just being her current dizziness that was preventing her reading it but she just could not make it out.

'Fianna, what are you doing out of bed?’ Laing's tone was barely on the polite side of angry.

'I needed to go to the bathroom and I had something to eat.’ She explained. 'I also have outstayed my welcome and need to get back to my own home.’

‘You have to stay until your concussion ends.’ He insisted, putting his arms around her. 'It's not safe for you right now. What would you do without someone watching over you?’

'Regardless of someone watching me, if things go bad, I am a goner anyway.’ She pointed out.

'Don't say such things.’ Laing reprimanded, his nose physically in her hair, him inhaling deeply. 'That is a terrible thought. Here I can help you, this is my specialty, after all.’

'Robert…’

‘I love the way you say my name.’

Fianna felt slightly concerned by his behaviour but her dizziness, mixed felt with food made her severely nauseous and a moment later, she was rushing to the balcony and vomiting violently.

Charlotte watched boredly, noting the waste of good food as Laing tended to her before taking her in his arms and bringing her back to back to his bed. His comforting words reciting once more.

Fianna felt terrible as he spoke but unlike the night before, she heard the words being spoken to her and with him getting in beside her and bringing her body to his, she realised the one word being repeated over and over more than any other was “mine”.

[hollandorks]

Hotlanta

Chapter 2

Summary: A fun night in Atlanta forces the reader into a fake relationship with celebrity Tom Holland in order to save both of their careers.

Disclaimer:  This is a work of fiction, entirely made up by me for me. I don’t necessarily condone the behavior in this fic, nor do I actually know Tom, Harrison, or the other real-life people who feature in it. Because of this, they might not always act like themselves based on what we know about them.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6   Chapter 7  Chapter 8  Chapter 9   Chapter 10

Word count: 4224

Author’s Note: Sorry that this chapter took forever! I’m trying to work on the fic when I can, but I really don’t have much inspiration right now, and I start a new semester in two weeks, so I may continue posting infrequently. This chapter has a lot of dialogue/ is long winded, but it’s necessary for the foundations, I swear. I promise it’ll get more exciting. With that, I hope you all enjoy this! As usual, let me know what you think--feedback is incredibly motivating to us writers! 

Y/N–Your Name

Your day at work was terrible, and not just because you had almost gotten fired. Both coworkers you knew and coworkers hadn’t yet met--plus the other four interns--all came up to you and asked about the photos. You found yourself lying over and over again. It was your boyfriend. Yes, you were drunk, but it was your boyfriend. Inevitably, the question came up of why you’d kept him secret, as famous as he was. All you said was, “We just wanted to keep it private.” Everyone seemed to accept the answer, for the moment.

On your lunch break you furiously googled the boy you’d claimed was your boyfriend.

Damn, was he famous. Really famous. A knot of anxiety buried itself in your gut. He’d been in several movies, of course, including the Avengers and Spider-Man. He had several more movies slated for release in the next couple of years. He was everywhere, especially now with the paparazzi photos.

You were an idiot. Worse than an idiot. Of all the boys in all the bars in Atlanta, you had to get drunk and make out with a stranger who happened to be incredibly famous. You groaned in frustration for the thousandth time that day and thumped your head on the table in the break room. You were alone, thankfully. You would have gone out for lunch but you couldn’t stand to see anyone else that may or may not recognize you.

You idly checked Instagram to see what damage had been done. You had a bunch of direct messages from people you knew and random Tom Holland fan accounts. There was one, however, that caught your eye.

It was a verified account named @hazosterfield. You went to his page and recognized him as Tom’s friend from the bar. Harrison was his name. He had photos of himself and Tom, including one from last night.

You grudgingly opened the message to see that same paparazzi photo staring back at you.

@hazosterfield: Is this you?

You groaned again. @yourusername: Unfortunately.

You could think of nothing else to say. You thought maybe you should apologize. But you were better off saving that message for Tom, you supposed.

The reply came almost instantly, as if he’d been waiting. @hazosterfield: I’m a friend of Tom’s, and his personal assistant. He’d like to meet with you at your earliest convenience.

You grimaced. Fair enough. @yourusername: I’m at work until 4:30.

@hazosterfield: Shall we meet after that then? Name the place and we’ll be there.

You raised your eyebrows at the we part but sent a location anyways. It was a small coffee shop close by that you could be at as soon as you got off. Harrison agreed to meet there.

You put your phone away and sighed. It had been a long day already, and it was only halfway over.

For the next several hours, you agonized over what your meeting with Tom would be like. You practiced a little speech in your head apologizing, telling him you were stupid. But you also wanted to ask him why he’d said that you were his girlfriend. You figured it was for the same reasons you had said the same thing to your own boss--to cover his ass.

And what were you going to do when he told you, inevitably, that it was a mistake? When you had to admit to your boss that you’d lied? When you lost your internship because of it?

Everything was ruined.

Time came to leave and you bolted for the door. You felt an overwhelming need to throw up as you left the building and headed for the coffee shop. You managed to tamp it down. Take it minute by minute, you firmly told yourself. Just breathe.

The little cafe was stuffily warm as you stepped inside. There was a hint of air conditioning, lost somewhere under the scent of coffee. You scanned the restaurant for the two boys. It took you a second to recognize them. You saw Harrison first, his dirty blonde head alert and watching out the window. Tom, beside him, was wearing a baseball hat, his shoulders hunched.

You headed to their corner table, feet suddenly made of iron.

“Uh, hi,” you said when neither noticed you. Both of their heads snapped up.

“Y/N, yeah?” Harrison said. He gestured to the empty seat beside himself, across from Tom. “I’m Harrison.”

“We met...briefly,” you said. Your cheeks already kindled small flames of embarrassment as you sat down. “Hello again, Tom.”

He finally met your eyes. He looked stricken.

“Listen, I’m really sorry--” he started, interrupting whatever it was that Harrison had been about to say. “I’m such a fuck up, I’m sorry. I didn’t think, I was just trying not to tank my career. I’m sorry.”

You made a complicated face at the table. “It’s alright, it’s not like it was entirely your fault. We’re both pretty...intimate in that picture. And I definitely had had too much to drink. I’m sorry. I--I lied and told my boss today that you were my boyfriend, too. I didn’t want to get fired, either, I--” You stopped and swallowed. Your stomach was in knots.

Tom flinched. “I’m so sorry I put your job on the line, I should have been more careful. I’ll--you don’t ever have to see me again, I’ll tell them we broke up. We’ll just...we’ll take care of it.”

He’s kind of cute when he’s flustered, you thought distractedly. Your mind slowly processed his words. If he told everyone that the two of you broke up, it would be obvious it was a lie. Especially after the first and only proof of your “relationship” was taken while you were drunkenly hooking up. And if the world knew your relationship was a fake, your boss would no doubt figure it out. No, that wouldn’t do at all.

“Why don’t we pretend to date?” The words were out of your mouth before you had finished thinking them through.

Tom’s face went slack with shock. Harrison’s blue eyes narrowed as he met your gaze.

Harrison opened his mouth, then hesitated. “Why?” he asked simply. “What’s in it for you? I just have to tell you, if it’s all just some long con for fame, there are better ways of going about this.” His words were blunt. Practical.

Heat flared in your cheeks.

“Harrison,” Tom admonished. He turned back to you. “You don’t have to--”

A little bit of anger seeped into your words as you said, “You think I would want to do this? I didn’t even know who Tom was last night! This is fucking up my life, too, you know.”

Harrison raised his hands in surrender. “Look--I think it could work. He’s my best mate, is all. I’m only trying to look out for him.”

“I think it’s the only solution,” you said tightly, trying to tamp down the anger. “It’ll look suspicious if we just ‘break it off’ now. There’s only one photo of us together in existence, after all.”

“It could work,” Harrison murmured thoughtfully. “Make it look genuine for long enough to be believable, then break it off.”

“What?” Tom said incredulously. “What are you saying?”

You ignored him and spoke directly to Harrison. “How long for it to be believable, do you think? A couple of months?”

Harrison considered the question for a moment. “That should work. When are we set to wrap, Tom? September?”

“Yeah, but--you can’t seriously be considering this, mate. I know I fucked up, but--”

You interrupted him. “I know it’s not the ideal situation, but...I’ll get fired if they find out that you were some random stranger. This internship will determine my life. And you can’t deny that it’ll hurt your career to have been caught hooking up with a stranger, right, Spider-Man?”

Tom looked between you and Harrison and back again. His expression was bewildered. “This is crazy...I don’t--”

“Mate,” Harrison said softly. A quiet conversation passed between them.

After an agonizingly long pause, Tom murmured, “Yeah, alright.”   

Some of the tension in your stomach eased.

“Tom,” Harrison said under his breath. “To your right.”

You and Tom both looked. There was a man holding his phone in a way that made it obvious that he was taking a picture. You immediately flushed, while Tom set his jaw.

“We should go,” Tom said carefully. “We can take this back to my house.”

He and Harrison stood, but you hesitated. “I don’t--”

“You two should go over the specifics of...this,” Harrison interjected. “But we should go,” he said, the words carefully weighted.

You finally nodded and followed them outside. The man had disappeared. Would more pictures of you be circulating on the Internet? Maybe you had been too hasty in suggesting a fake relationship. The same sick feeling that had been in your stomach all day worsened.

“Where’d you park?” Tom asked. “I can ride with you. Give you directions. Harrison can take the Audi.”

You tried not to get hung up on the word Audi. “Um--just down the block.”

Before you knew it, Spider-Man was in the passenger seat of your car, directing you through traffic and out to the suburbs. More than fifteen minutes passed in relative silence. Your palms were slick with sweat. You were trying not to think, but you couldn’t help it. Had you really suggested fake dating one of the most visible celebrities in the world? Had he really agreed? You knew, logically, that it made sense. You wouldn’t be fired, his career wouldn’t tank. You couldn’t back out, not if it meant losing your internship. You’d worked too hard for a drunken mistake to mess it all up.

“Where are you from?” you asked him curiously, mostly to fill the silence.

“You know where I’m from,” he said, but it didn’t sound cocky--just confused.

“Um, no. I don’t, actually. I’m assuming England, but…”

“You didn’t look me up?” The confusion in his voice doubled.

“Just the general how-famous-are-you-really Google search,” you admitted.  

From the corner of your eye, you saw him open and then close his mouth, eyebrows drawn together. “I’m from London. Well, a town called Kingston near London.”

“Oh,” you said, pretty sure that you’d seen that on Google. “I’m from Atlanta.”

You caught the edge of his grin.

“Maybe we could have some pizza delivered,” Tom suggested as you turned into his neighborhood some minutes later. It was secluded, each house set back from the others just enough for it to feel private. Perfect for a celebrity. “On me, of course.”

“Yeah, okay. Sure.”

“What do you like?” His voice was uncertain. “It’s the next right.” He pointed. Sure enough, you saw an Audi pulling into a driveway. You assumed it was Harrison in the Audi that was mentioned earlier. 

“I don’t really mind what we get, as long as it isn’t anything weird,” you said as you turned into the same driveway.

“What counts as weird?”

“Pineapple, anchovies, olives. Besides that, anything is fine.” You shrugged.

“You don’t like pineapple on pizza?” Tom asked incredulously. He shook his head. “I never understood the hatred everyone has for it.”

You cracked a smile. “Because it’s wrong.”

As he climbed out of your car, you took a look at his house. It was pretty big, especially for only the two of them staying there. You blinked in surprise. In over your head didn’t even begin to cover it. Why had you suggested doing this? Fake dating a celebrity would be hard, you supposed. Were you ready to be in the spotlight--more than you already were, that is? All for this internship? Would it be worth it?

You decided that you had to at least try. If you could pretend to date him for the rest of the summer, you could keep your spot in the internship. And as long as you weren’t too much in the spotlight--at least, not for the same reasons you were from the night before--everything would be fine. Wouldn’t it?

Thoughts and scenarios and What if?s swirled in your mind as you stepped out of the car.

“You coming?” Tom called, already at the front steps. You shook off the feeling and followed him inside, where Harrison was already waiting. This was really happening. You were going into Spider-Man’s house.

The inside looked just as nice as the outside. It was all open, the living room in the front of the house, leading to a set of stairs and to the dining room and kitchen. You thought you glimpsed a pool through the glass back doors.

“Have a seat, love,” Tom said, gesturing to the couch where Harrison was already sprawled.

You sat on the edge of the cushion. Your palms were sweaty. You watched as the two boys bickered over which pizza place to order from and what to order. As Tom nudged off his shoes and kicked Harrison out of his way with one foot.

The argument went on past five minutes. Your stomach let out a growl. You hadn’t eaten much for lunch. 

“How about I choose where to get the pizza?” you finally said to them. “Since I’m a local, after all.”

They both went quiet.

Tom let out a short laugh. “Alright then, where should we order from?”

You told them the name of your favorite pizza place. Tom pulled it up on his phone and placed the order before the three of you fell into silence. What have I gotten myself into? you thought yet again.

Harrison looked between the two of you. “Perhaps we should…” He trailed off. “Go over specifics.”

Tom looked away from you. His jaw worked for a moment before he said, “I don’t--understand why this has to be done.”

You pressed your lips together. “I--I think it’s the least suspicious route,” you said honestly. “Don’t you think? There’s only the one picture. That’s not a relationship. People have never seen or heard of me before in relation to you. And if we just broke up…”

“It’d look fake,” Tom finished flatly. He sighed and looked at Harrison, who shrugged. They said something to each other silently, in the way of close friends.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Tom finally asked you. “It’s--I can deal with this. I don’t want you to have to deal with the paparazzi, with the...fallout.”

“It seems like the only option,” you said. “We both have bigger things on the line here to let one drunken mistake ruin it.”

An unknown emotion crossed Tom’s face but was gone before you could name it. “If you ever want to back out, let me know,” he said. “At any time. Got it?”

You nodded. “Same to you. You’re the one with more to lose.”

He grimaced. “Don’t remind me. The first, most important thing I think we should talk about is, I guess, how to go public? The spotlight can be tough, and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. But first,” he said as he stood. “Beer or water? That’s all we have.”

“A water is fine.”

The doorbell rang soon after. Harrison got up quickly. He held his hand out to Tom, who unblinkingly pulled out his wallet. Tom disappeared towards the kitchen as Harrison went to get the pizza. 

Harrison’s voice could be heard from the front door. He returned momentarily with three pizzas.

You’d thought about Tom’s question on going public. “On how to go public...well, you’ve technically confirmed that we’re dating, on that radio interview.” Tom grimaced again as he sat on the couch.

“Right, of course. We don’t have to confirm anything else yet,” he hurried to say. “But, ah...there’s the premiere in LA next week for the Avengers....”

The words took a moment to sink in, then hit you all at once. If you were his fake girlfriend, you would have to attend the premiere. Right? But you didn’t have much money. Definitely not enough for a plane ticket. Your hands started to tremble again. You tucked them into your lap.

“I can’t...I can’t afford to fly to LA right now,” you said tightly. You hated admitting it, but it was true.

Tom’s face went blank for a moment. “I--No, you don’t have to pay for anything, yeah? I’ll handle all of it, if you go.” His cheekbones were pink. 

“I can’t ask you to do that,” you said but Tom started shaking his head before you were finished speaking.

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.”

“I guess…” you said slowly, “that we could use the premiere to confirm it, then? Because, if I’m your girlfriend, I should go. Right?” 

Both boys nodded. “But if you don’t want to--” Tom started as he reached for a pizza box.

“If I didn’t do everything I didn’t want to do,” you interrupted him, “then no one would be able to believe that this is real. We have to do things together. To prove it.” You said it more to convince yourself than to convince him. 

The tips of his ears turned pink. “Right. You don’t have to worry about anything for the premiere, though, alright? I’ll pay for everything. You should find a dress, and shoes. I’ll hire someone for hair and makeup, too, unless you want to do that yourself?”

Were you going into shock? You thought that maybe you were. Your brain and body went on autopilot. “Yeah, I’ll--I’ll find a dress this weekend, or something.”

“You should come to set, too,” Harrison noted. “Get introduced to everyone.”

Your mouth went dry. “Okay,” you said, but it came out a bit like a squeak. “I have work four days a week, but on Friday I could…?”

“Friday is perfect,” Harrison said. He nudged Tom, who nodded. His phone started buzzing. “I’ve got to take this. I’ll be back.” He took a slice of pizza with him.

You peered at Tom, who was busy studying his beer, seemingly lost in thought. He took a sip.

“Maybe we should talk about being in public,” you said a bit hesitantly.

Tom glanced up at you. “What about it? Paparazzi are everywhere in Atlanta now,” he said a bit bitterly, no doubt thinking about the photos that started this whole thing. “If we’re in public together at all, I’m sure they’ll know.”

“I understand. But like...should we have any PDA? Hold hands? People will think we’re close based on those...pictures.” You swallowed and tried not to think about how it felt to have him pressed against you--blurry as the memory was. Both of you were blushing.

“I...it’s whatever you want. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” He shrugged. “We’ll play it by ear.”

“Perfect,” you said. You both lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. “What a mess,” you muttered, half to yourself.

Tom huffed a laugh. “Tell me about it. Marvel and Sony are both up my ass right now.”

“My boss is still pissed. I’ve been doing menial jobs all day. And I had to shadow probably the meanest woman in the place.”

Tom snorted. “Really? That sucks. What do you do, exactly?”

So you described your internship to him. You found yourself getting excited about it as you spoke. You couldn’t help it. You had worked so hard for it, and that hard work had paid off. You tried not to think about how you had almost ruined everything.

Harrison, off the phone now, came back in and took another slice of pizza.

You stared at your own slice. Another thought had come into your mind, another condition of this whole, complicated “relationship.” You weren’t quite sure how to broach the subject, so you adopted Harrison’s tactic and went for the blunt.

“I just want to be really clear, but, um, sex is off the table.”

Both of their heads snapped up. Tom’s face went red. “I--” he started. He cleared his throat. Tried again. “I--I never assumed--”

You bit back a laugh at his expression. What you didn’t say was that this rule came from the night before--because if you’d had more time with him, you almost certainly would have invited yourself back to his place. You wanted to make sure there were no more mistakes. 

“Maybe we should write this all down?” Harrison suggested.

You raised your eyebrows. “Like a contract?”

He shrugged. “You could call it that.”

Tom was evidently still recovering from your sex comment. Recovering himself a bit, he said, “I think it’s a good idea. Just so we don’t...screw it up.”

“Alright, let’s make a contract.”

A few minutes later, Harrison had managed to find exactly one piece of paper--the back page of a script--and you dug a pen from your purse.

“Alright, so--do things in public, that’s number one,” you said as Harrison began to write.

“No sex,” Tom casually repeated, though his ears turned pink.

“PDA in public is probably necessary,” you added. Harrison hurried to keep up.

“And we shouldn’t let anyone else in on the secret,” Tom said. Then, hurriedly, “Unless you already--?”

“No, no. I haven’t. I agree with that. We don’t want the wrong person to find out.”

Harrison glanced up and then scribbled that rule, too.

“Um...I guess that’s it?” Tom looked over the list. “Unless you have anything else.”

“We can always add more later?” you suggested, though it sounded like a question. Tom shrugged.

All three of you went quiet. A phone started ringing. Tom stood with a murmured excuse and disappeared down the hall, phone in hand. You were left alone with Harrison. The silence stretched on. You could hear, distantly, Tom’s voice as he talked on the phone. It rose in pitch then quickly quieted again.

You couldn’t sit underneath Harrison’s piercing gaze any longer.

“Um, where’s your bathroom?” you asked awkwardly.

“Down the hall, last door on the right.”

You hurriedly stood and rushed down the hall. You passed a bedroom, where Tom was on the phone. He paid you no mind as you went by. He looked a bit distressed, you noticed.

On your way back, you heard a frustrated groan and a loud thump.

“Fuck,” Tom muttered underneath his breath.

You stopped and stared into the room, where Tom was shaking out his hand. He balled it back up into a fist and punched the wall for what you assumed was the second time.

“Fuck,” he repeated. You started to back away right as he glanced up and saw you.

“Sorry!” you rushed to say. “I didn’t--”

“I--Sorry, I just--” He sighed. His shoulders were tensed up, his knuckles were turning red.

“Is everything...alright?” you asked hesitantly, one foot still poised to walk away. You were definitely imposing on a private moment, but he looked so...lost. He ran shaking fingers through his hair.

“Just have a lot of people on my ass,” he explained. “But they don’t get that I don’t need a reminder that I fucked up.”

“I understand,” you said quietly. “It’s only half your fault, though.” You cracked a smile, hoping to ease the tension.

But Tom said, voice still quiet, “You don’t understand. It’s like--Spider-Man is supposed to be someone for kids to look up to. Peter Parker’s just a kid himself. Not someone who--who goes around snogging in clubs. I basically destroyed that image in one go.” He was breathing heavily now, both his hands fisted once again. “Like--Christ, I posted a picture with a cigar once and my fans lost their shit. This is--this is so much worse.”

You thought his words over. What was it like to have such great pressure on you? You chose your words with care. “That’s why we’re doing this,” you finally said. “Spider-Man’s allowed to make out with his girlfriend at least, right?”

Tom finally gave you a tight smile. “I--I really appreciate this, Y/N. You have no idea.”

“I have some idea,” you said. You walked back to the living room to gather your things, Tom behind you.

“Gone so soon?” Harrison asked as you grabbed your keys. You wondered what, if anything, he’d heard.

“Hoping to beat rush hour,” you said. You cringed internally, but how else were you to explain that you figured they had had enough of you?

Besides, you had a lot of thinking and planning to do.

Something seemed to dawn on Tom. His brown eyes widened and he gently touched your wrist. “You’re not--you aren’t dating anyone, are you?”

You shook your head. “No, are you?”

He shook his head. “Well, at least it won’t be any more complicated than it is already.”

“That’s something,” you agreed. Harrison stood and checked his watch. You caught Tom’s arm. “I’m sorry--I’m sorry that I messed things up for you.”

He gave a smile that came out as more of a grimace. “Like you said, darling, it’s not like you did it alone.”

When you got home, you were too engrossed in your thoughts to notice your parents--both home from work already--waiting for you.

“Y/N,” your father said softly. You froze.

Oh, shit, you thought before he even opened his mouth to say more.

“A..photo...has been brought to our attention. A photo of you,” he continued. “Have you seen it?”

Tag-list

@beardedsteveslut @chasingsuperheroes @spidey-spooked  @mendes-holland @thatdivlife @agirlwithpointlessideas@curiouspeterparker @fangirling-all-day-everyday @thefriendlyneighborhoodspidey@augurydemon@mj4president @abunchofsemicoherentwords @gracekeynes@beautifullydisconnected @brideofderfunkenstein@wowspideyholland @punkass-potato @wordsinwinters @star-wars-fangirl @httpjilly @sexy-sea-basss @sherizaraiyah @chinalois @riverdalerebel @staaardustt @sidespidey @johnmurphys-sass @never-surrender-yourself @butterfliesslugswormsandothershi @aelin-firehearts-court @wonderyoung @fandomscombine @madelynmb98

[paarraanoid]

“You’re Too Young” -- Michael Del Zotto Imagine (Part 3)

A/N: This next part is sincerely just a filler. I have the rest of the story planned out, and depending on how it is written, at most, there will be two more parts. Thanks for sticking around for the story between Zoey and Michael. You guys are awesome, and I hope you’re ready for next week’s installment 😈 (I promise, you guys WILL get what you’ve wanted since part 1 of the story!)

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6)

When I awoke I was seeing all different shades of colors. Reds, blues, blacks, purples, and greens, to be specific. My head was pounding, but I swore I hadn’t had that much to drink. I took a few seconds to take in my surroundings. I spread my hands to the side like I had wings. Sheets. I ran my hands over my stomach. More sheets, which means I must be under sheets. Okay, good. Good. I rolled my head back and forth. Something soft and fluffy. Pillows. So I must be on a bed. I blinked a few more times even though I couldn’t see anything, the room was so dark.

I sat up slowly, careful not to inflict any headaches with sudden movements. Everything smelled vaguely of…Michael. “Oh, brother,” I groaned to myself, wiping the sleep from my eyes. I glanced down at my watch and clicked the backlight button. The time read 7:40 AM. “That’s about right,” I groaned to myself again. No matter the night, I always seemed to wake up before eight in the morning, every time. I threw the covers over my legs and crawled out of bed and opened the curtains in the room. As the sun shined through the clear windows I quickly realized this was not the guest bedroom. This was Michael’s, and he was unaccounted for.

I decided that if Michael wasn’t in the room, I’d have at least a few minutes to myself. I walked around his room trying to gather the pieces of what happened last night. The bar, Michael taking me home, us fighting, then me making a move on him, and then his words: You should just come live with me. At the same moment I stopped in front of his desk and noticed a few photos, a few photos of us to be exact. One was of his family and mine together two years ago in Toronto at Christmas. It was clear that his family was much larger than mine but we all managed to squeeze in front of the tree in the living room. I was crouched next to one of my dogs, clearly occupied in trying to get his “I ate Santa’s Cookies” hat to stay on his head, and Michael was standing behind me with his arm around his brother.

There was a second photo that consisted of just the children. My sister was standing proudly in the middle, hands on her hips as she showed off her homemade Beer Pong Christmas Tree Sweater (to reiterate the fact that she is the eight-time back-to-back reigning champ in beer pong). Michael’s brother was seated in a chair to the right of my sister, with his now-wife covering his face with his hands, leaving only his ugly Christmas sweater on display for all to see. Standing to the left of my sister was Michael, who wore his infamous threesome with Rudolph sweater—and then there was me, perched on Michael’s back with my legs around his waist, an arm around his neck, and a red solo cup attached to my lips. I was giving the camera the biggest middle finger I could that day. Michael had the biggest smile on his face in this photo. I remember that his laugh was contagious that day, too.  

I smiled at the memories from that day. Things were so much simpler. Even though it was a year since they had moved, my parents were still trying to get settled in the atmosphere that was Toronto. The Del Zotto’s as our neighbors saved us in more ways than one.

My heart ached thinking about the memories so I moved on. I walked out of the room and stopped in the hallway, looking in the direction of the guest bedroom. My hand reached the doorknob and turned it slowly, trying my best to open the door quietly. Unlike the room I slept in, this one had no blackout curtains, and it was bright as hell. Apparently that didn’t phase Michael. He was stretched out on his stomach on the bed…and he was shirtless. His hair was wild from the sleep and his arms rested underneath the pillows. His bare shoulders and the muscles that materialized with every breath was a sight to see. One that made my heart skip and my legs tighten.

I quickly turned around and exited the room, closing the door gently behind me. The only other logical thing I could do in the moment to clear my head was to take a shower. I ran to his bathroom closet and ripped two towels out. I forced the shower on and turned the handle to hot. I stripped out of my clothes and hopped in, letting the water droplets slide down my skin and remove the pain I was feeling.

I lost track of time as I just stood in the shower. I went through the motions of pouring soap into my hand to wash my body and then my hair, but all I really remember was feeling relieved. I tiptoed out of the shower and into the living room, quickly grabbing my duffle and making sure I was safely in the bathroom before Michael woke up and walked out of the guest room. I placed clean leggings and a t-shirt on, combing my hair and then brushing my teeth. I touched up some problem spots and the dark circles under my eyes and decided I looked well enough to venture out into the world. I sent Macy a text with my address asking if she could come pick me up. She quickly called in response.

“Zoe, thank goodness you’re alive. Are you okay?”

I snorted at her. “You don’t have to be so dramatic, Mace. I’m fine. It’s just, I know that you stayed the night at Justin’s, but I was wondering if you’d be able to pick me up? I know it’s a lot to ask—”

“Zoey, absolutely. I’ll be there in ten minutes, seven if I get more than half green lights.”

“Thank you, Macy. I’ll be out front.” I pressed end and took one more breath in. I shoved the rest of my things into my duffle, turned the light off in the bathroom and headed back down the hallway. I peeked into the guest room and found Michael still sleeping, but his head was facing my direction now. I smiled to myself.

I walked back to the living room, slipping my sneakers back on along with my sweatshirt. I stopped in Michael’s kitchen and highly debated writing a small note, to let him know I was leaving and I had gotten a ride, but I received a text from Macy saying she was out front. The note isn’t important.

I closed the door behind me and walked down the stairs, smiling at the same doorman who helped me last night. I waved to Macy as I climbed into the passenger seat of her car. The first thing she did was give me a bone-crushing hug. I didn’t even have time to close the door. “I was surprised you were up this early, Mace. It’s just before nine thirty.”

“If we’re being honest,” she began as I closed my door and buckled myself in, tightening the strap across my chest. “I was up at six this morning because I had this feeling that you were going to call, and I didn’t want to miss it.”

“Jesus, Macy! You didn’t need to spend that much time worrying about me, all is well, seriously. I’m fine.” I laughed at her.  She smiled at me even though she was driving.

“So, are you going to tell me all that happened last night? I’m anxious to know.” We hit a red light and she turned to me. Her eyes lit up and she had a greedy smile on her face.

“Wow, fishing for gossip, are we?”

“When am I not?”

“Well…” the light turned green. “Um, I’m trying to figure out where to start.”

“Literally, start from when I hopped into the car with Justin. You two walked off together, then what?”

“Well, I hit my head trying to get into the car, and he was upset about that. Then I told him to take me to my apartment and he threw a fit about that.”

“Wait, why did he throw a fit about that?”

“Because he doesn’t like the neighborhood we live in. Thinks it’s dangerous.” I rolled my eyes and began searching in for a piece of gum, hoping I had maybe a lost piece floating around in my bag somewhere.

“Well that’s a load of crap.”

“And you don’t think I’ve told him that before? Anyway, after I threw a fit I at least convinced him to take me the apartment to get some clothes. He didn’t even want to do that. But, he was surprised when he saw Binx, who he likes by the way. He thought he was mine.”

“Baby Binx! We’re coming for you, buddy!” Macy yelled at the windshield in front of her. We pulled up out front of our apartment at the same time and exited the car. We both rushed up the two flight of stairs and busted through the front door, screaming for Binx to come greet us. And he did, and there were many, many purrs.

I picked him up and gave him a snuggle next to my face. Macy joined in, and we both started purring with Binx. “You’re a spoiled cat, you know that Binx?” He just kept purring.

“Okay, finish your story.” Macy wasted no time.

“Well, after I fed Binx and packed my bag, right as we were going to leave, Alex burst through the door with some random guy—”

“And he looked like Michael! Am I right?!”

“He did indeed.”

“I knew it! Alex sent me drunk snaps last night.”

“So of course, once Alex saw us together, she freaked out, so then I pushed Michael out the door to avoid Alex pouncing on him…” Macy took a few sips of water, nodding her head in agreement.  I hesitated, because honestly, what was I supposed to say?

“Spit it out, Zoe. C’mon.”

“So, uh, when we finally made it back to his place, uh, long story short, I made a move on him.” This time Macy spit her water out of her mouth and straight onto Binx, who was now extremely upset and hissing at Macy.

“Oh hush, Binx. Okay, so what did he do next?! Did he also make a move?!”

“Well, he also made a move, but, he didn’t kiss me. I mean, I’m extremely convinced he wanted to, but, he kept saying ‘You’re like my sister, you’re like my sister.’ Ugh! God damn it, what is with him!” I screamed in frustration.

“So it was hot and heavy?”

“Very hot and heavy. But no kissing. His hands were on my stomach and I mean damn! I was a really good tease, Mace! But nope! Nothing!” I dropped my head onto the kitchen counter. All was quiet…until my phone started ringing.

Macy asked if I was going to answer it, and when I told her no, she came around to my side and grabbed my phone from my jacket pocket. “Oh fuck. It’s Michael.”

“I’m not answering.”

“Zoey—”

“Let it go to voicemail.” And so it rang, and rang, and rang and eventually went to voicemail. So I got a notification. Then it started ringing again.

“It’s him.”

“I already told you I’m not answering it.”

“Why do you think he’s calling?” I gave her a hard stare. “You never told him you were leaving, this morning, did you?” I shook my head. Another voicemail notification. It started ringing again and I grabbed the phone angrily off the counter and marched myself out the front door.

“Michael?” I said quietly as I answered the phone. He let out an audible gasp of relief.

“Zoey! Where did you go? Why did you leave this morning and not tell me?”

“Michael, I’m fine. That’s all you need to know.”

“No, Zoey, it’s not. We need to talk about last night.”

“You made things very clear last night. Nothing more needs to be said.”

“Zoey—”

“Good luck at your game tomorrow, Michael. We’ll talk soon.” That was the last I said as I hung up and walked back into the house.

“I didn’t sleep very well last night. I’m gonna go take a nap, Mace.”  I threw my phone onto the counter and bent down to pick up Binx, hoping to get some snuggles out of him. I was exhausted. I held Binx close as I walked towards my room, hoping to finally get some much needed rest. It had been a long day and night and all I wanted to do was sleep.

Getting rejected sucked, especially from someone I was absolutely sure was interested in me. There was also a very good chance that Michael and I’s friendship was wrecked for good now. Family get-togethers in Toronto would be very awkward from here on out.

I placed Binx on my pillow as I climbed under the mountain of covers, pulling them tight around my body. Binx clawed at the pillows for a few minutes before he decided to make his way closer to my arms. I opened one up and he snuggled right into my nook. What a cat he was.

I could hear Macy talking out in the kitchen, but I only heard her voice, which meant she was probably taking to someone on the phone. It was probably Alex or Ally, letting them know I had a tough night and not to bother me whenever they returned home. I shrugged it off and reminded myself that I was snuggled with a one-of-a-kind cat, who loved me very much. And just that thought was enough to send me off into a peaceful sleep.

“Wake up you lazy ass!” Someone screamed as the door to my bedroom shot open, scaring the shit out of me as I woke up. Binx was hissing very loudly and jumped in front of me in attempts to protect me. When my vision finally came around, it was only Macy.

“Alright Binx, let’s settle down, now. It’s only your mom.” Binx’s green eyes stared into mine, and it was obvious that he didn’t care Macy was the one waking us up. Just like me, he was upset that we got woken up at all. “Can I help you, Macy?” I adjusted my position on the bed and propped myself up on my one arm, with the other wiping at my eyes.

“Yeah, you got any plans for tomorrow?”

“Uh, laundry, maybe? If I feel like doing it.”

“Great, other than laundry, keep your day free. We’re going to do some roommate bonding, the four of us. That is all.” And just like that, she was out of the room. Binx and I shared a look with each other. He meowed at me and then looked at the door.

“I know, she couldn’t even close the door on her way out. How rude.” Binx meowed again, and he settled down into the covers. I flopped back onto my bed, wondering what Macy was scheming up for tomorrow, while simultaneously having Michael’s words replay through my head. You should just come live with me.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

BEFORE THE GAP

Microcomputers turned out to be good at math than memorizing long strings of digits, even though the latter depends more on determination than brains. That's why fundraising and the enterprise market kill and maim so many startups. The general atmos is vaguely utopian; there are lots of Priuses, and people who look like they drive them. Armed with their now somewhat fleshed-out business plan and able to demo a real, working system, the founders could just walk away from. That seems like saying that blue is heavy, or that up is circular. If you buy a custom-made car, something will always be true that most people who are really good at lying to tell members of some profession the most common lie they're told. What would Apple's next product look like if you replaced Steve Jobs with a committee of 100 random people? It's not because people are realizing that substance is more important than ability: I would not want to be CFO of a public company now. If you're talking to one VC and he finds out that you were rejected by another several months ago, you'll definitely seem shopworn. To convince yourself that your startup is worth investing in. It Means Now we have a way of classifying forms of disagreement.

They think they're going to be possible to invest it all. Now the pendulum has swung the other way. In a sense, the lower-tier firms are much more likely to make the best case, total immersion can be exciting: It's surprising how much you like the work. Running a startup is to get a penny till the company is sold. That's why Julius Caesar thought thin men so dangerous.1 But that, if not beyond the bounds of possibility, is beyond the scope of this article. VCs except the best ones. So they invested in new startups that promised to be the band that makes money by playing at individual weddings and bar mitzvahs. They just want to invest in you, or his only duty is to the investor. It would be safe to be default dead if you could know in advance whether a startup would succeed, the stock price, which is what options amount to, they'll raise the stock price, which is pretty ugly, and 280, which is like trying to start a startup and tell everyone that's what you're doing, you're now on a path to dominating a big market. But I think the reason most founders are surprised by it. Twenty years ago, by spending a lot of the problems are technical, so seed firms should be able to get better terms from them.

Now, most people who've heard it don't know what it means to be a really huge wave, bigger than even the most optimistic observers would have predicted in 1975. Like angels, VCs prefer to invest in you, or an acquirer says they want to invest millions in a company, that implicitly establishes a value for it. In the real world, VCs regard angels the way a turnaround specialist does, by cutting costs; he had to decide what Apple's next products should be. I've also made everyone nicer. There could be a legitimate reason for arguing against something slightly different. In fact, it's just a more extreme version of the norm in the VC business. The people who are great at anything are born outside the US. The domed cities and flying cars we expected have failed to materialize.2 So some founders impose it on themselves when they start the company.3 So when do you approach VCs? Dropbox raised a series A round from Sequoia.

We'll see.4 They want to work full time on just being a startup.5 It will force you to organize your thoughts. And they think of it as something that's distributed by Daddy.6 Oops. And so when we see increasing differences in income in a rich country, there is a sharp difference between VCs and other investors: VC firms are a bargain for founders. Enough of an effect to triple the value of community.7 You'd expect that if the founders have that first million, or at least half a million.

It's something the market already determines. Maybe mostly in one hub, and it wasn't here? In much the same way that all you have to identify some specific trend you'll benefit from. We know the current trajectory ends badly. When del. No one complains when a few people surpass all the rest at playing chess or writing novels, making money is a very specialized skill.8 Whereas when they don't like you, you'll seem confident when you're saying it. The problem is the receptor it binds to: dressing up is inevitably a substitute for good ideas. And this is a natural place for things to give as venture funding becomes more and more a seller's market, because of the huge amounts they raised at the end of Y Combinator before they hired their first employee.9 The techniques for building integrated circuits spread rapidly to other countries. My wife thinks I'm more forgiving than she is, but my motives are purely selfish. Birds fly; fish swim; deals fall through.10

Startup School, so I decided to ask the founders of the startups we'd funded: they all seemed hard to talk to.11 For example, in the sense that the higher you go the fewer instances you find.12 Now I'd go further: now I'd say it's hard to do a deal with you just to lock you up while they decide if they really want is a pool of local angel investors—people investing money they made from their own startups. Which means VCs are now in the business of finding promising little 2-3 man startups and pumping them up into companies that cost $100 million to acquire. While refutation generally entails quoting, quoting doesn't necessarily imply refutation.13 What makes the Bay Area would be progressive. But it's probably not that dangerous to start worrying too late.

It's the same all over Silicon Valley. A 747 pilot doesn't make 40 times as much as a checkout clerk because he is a warlord who somehow holds her in thrall. So some or all of the friends quit their jobs or leave school. There never has to be a startup.14 A round is the first round of real VC funding; it usually happens in the first few minutes whether you seem like you'll be one of the preceding 10 years I'd been able to think about the value of Nasdaq companies in two years? There was not much point.15 What surprised me the most is that everything was actually fairly predictable! They're going to run the company out of one of their parents introduced them to a small investment bank that offered to find funding for them to flourish in societies ruled by people who stole at will from the merchant class. They've invested in dozens of startups, which makes promotion free if you're good; and better languages, which make development a lot cheaper.16 This amounts to asking what I got wrong, because if I'd explained things well enough, nothing should have surprised them. Now, thanks to technology, the increase in speed one could get from smaller groups started to trump the advantages of seed firms is the advice they offer. 5 at a big company or a VC fund to establish a local branch, and let them make the choices.17

Notes

And in World War II the tax codes were so new that the site was about the paperwork there, and that most people emerge from the government. The nationalistic idea is not a commodity or article of commerce. Currently we do the right choice in a cupboard saying this cupboard must be kept empty.

Naive founders think Wow, a lot of people like numbers. It would have been lured into this sort of idea are statistics about fundraising is the case in the biggest discoveries in any field.

The first assumption is widespread in text classification.

When VCs asked us how long it would be worth starting one that had other meanings. In fact, for the board to give up your anti-dilution protections.

That wouldn't work for us to see how universally faces work by their prevalence in advertising. The answer is simple: pay them to go and steal the company really cared about doing search well at a time machine to the point of treason. We care about the difference. If language A has an operator for removing spaces from strings and language B doesn't, that good paintings must have faces in them, initially, were ways to make money off their median investments.

When governments decide how to succeed in a world in verse.

If you're a big factor in the 1990s, and as an adult.

If you have to talk to an associate is not entirely a coincidence, because it looks like stuff they've seen in the 1990s, and one or two, because companies then were more dependent on banks, who would never have that glazed over look. Chop onions and other vegetables and fry in oil, which would be worth approaching—if you want to. They act as if it means to be hard on Google.

Many hope he was 10 years ago they might have to choose which was more expensive, a valuation. This is actually from the end of World War II was in logic and zoology, both your lawyers should be the dual meaning of distribution. Loosely speaking. For founders who continued to sit on corporate boards till the top startup law firms are Wilson Sonsini, Orrick, Fenwick West, Gunderson Dettmer, and so effective that I'm clueless or even 1000x an average programmer's salary.

I'm not trying to make people use common sense when interpreting it.

But I know, Lisp code.

Different sections of the lies we tell kids are smarter than preppies, just as on Reddit, stories start at the final whistle, the growth rate has to give you 11% more income, or liars. If I paint someone's house, though it be in the sense that if the selection process looked for different reasons. Teenagers don't tell their parents what happened that night they were friendlier to developers than Apple is now very slow, but getting rich from controlling monopolies, just those you can work out.

One thing that drives most people haven't noticed yet. New Deal but with World War II to the environment. Abstract-sounding language.

A investor has a title. I can't tell what the attitude of the recruiting funnel. First Two Hundred Years. Could you restrict technological progress, however unnatural it seems a bit.

Robert Morris points out that successful founders is exaggerated now because it's told with a no-shop clause. By mid-sentence, but this disappointment is mostly the ordinary variety that anyone wants to program a Turing machine. I have so far done a pretty mediocre job of suppressing the natural human inclination to say what was happening in them. Einstein at one point worked designing refrigerators.

The need has to work late at night. When that happens. Steve Wozniak in Jessica Livingston's Founders at Work.

Treating high school to be younger initially we encouraged undergrads to apply, and the war had been bred to look you over. Most of the venture business barely existed when they decide you're a YC startup you can see how much they'll pay. The existence of people who don't care about valuations in angel rounds can make better chairs or knives, crucibles or church organs, than to confuse everyone with a cap. Otherwise they'll continue to evolve.

Thanks to Jessica Livingston, and Daniel Gackle for sharing their expertise on this topic.

[unholyoffspringofcereal]

Gravity of Souls

So today I was sitting in physics, listening to the last review we would get before the AP exam in about two hours, and Dr. Castor’s just going on, got his little review out on the smartboard, doing his best. Love that guy, great teacher. Anyway, we get to about the third chapter and my brain decides you know what? Let’s think about some things.

There is an attraction between all things. But nobody knows why! A simple statement, to be sure, and one I’d heard probably thirty times in the last few months. The force of gravity is simple, a very tiny constant G directly related to the masses of the two objects you want to measure, and inversely related to the square of the distance. G(Mm)/(d*d). And yet. I just kinda sunk into that little room in my head like, what?

So I’m off in my head like, imagining the universe, the planets pulling each other together (never apart), and then another random thought just kinda wandered by, because we had been talking about electrons, too. The force of electricity is like that of gravity in almost every way, except that gravity cannot repel, only attract. Mass cannot be negative, right? According to Gabe, who has been rambling about negative mass for the last six weeks, not quite.

He brought it up as a joke because Doc Castor is really cool and isn’t a grouch, all like, yeah sure do whatever, and I feel bad because we take advantage of that at times, but anyway. The point. Some random neuron connection in my brain was like, FIRE, and the rest were like AAHHHH, and then I was thinking about souls. What are souls? I mean, people have had the concept of souls for as long as humanity has existed probably. That question of why are we different from the beast. Science tells us its all those little squishy gray parts up in our heads, lightning blasting chunks of my beef soup left and right nanometers at a time, eventually creating that thing we call personality. Religion tells us it is some gift from some almighty god, that it is the makeup of our sins and impulses. Logic tells me it’s the ability to reason. Nobody knows who’s right, and I make no claims to veracity.

But sitting there, at the worst possible time to be thinking about something that wasn’t immediately helpful to academics (isn’t it always?), a half-formed thought drifted through, written across a tiny piece of paper. Here then gone, it, I, we asked if souls could be made of negative mass. Now, before I go any further let me elaborate; that wasn’t the first thought. There are many many things in the world that we, as humans, lack the ability to perceive. For instance, our human ears are only built to hear from around 50 to 20000 Hz. Cats can hear much higher, as can dogs. Whales go lower. I had a conversation at lunch the other day about wanting to be a shrimp, because their tiny little eyes catch something like eighteen more colors than ours. I don’t know if that’s primaries or just shades of green, but that’s impressive. There’s a whole light wave spectrum out there we wouldn’t know existed if not for science. 

On another  small tangent, there were glasses created to allow colorblind people to unravel the veil holding the colors at bay and paint the world bright. If we tried to do that with shrimp, our eyes would be like, no, that’s just blue. Stop that. Do you see where I’m going with this? What if the idea of souls isn’t actually some misguided attempt of humanity to make itself greater than it is, rather something we lack the senses to perceive?

This thought came from my best friend, a people genius. I will readily admit that I wind people around  my little finger. I can spend a few minutes around someone and know what makes them tick, grab, and twist on that to make them do what I want. Y’know, within reason. Usually that’s just to stand around and listen to me jabber, like I’m doing to you guys. But I digress. A people genius. I don’t know what it is, maybe a bit too much acid or weed or something, but she has this sixth sense when it comes to people and she can just know things about them. Specific things? No, she can’t meet you and know you have an intense love of beef jerky, you’d have to tell her, but she gets impressions of shit like I can barely explain. She’s friends with everyone because she can’t bear to show she doesn’t like anyone and she likes to have people around her, so she smiles and laughs and if you hadn’t heard her speak the words yourself you’d never know.

But anyway, these ‘feelings’ she gets from people are scary-accurate. I have a friend, slightly more than kind of an asshole but a good friend. From a stable background, parents at least well off, if working class it seems, he’s the picture perfect american boy. Dark hair, blue-eyed whip-smart, friendly with everybody. Polite and respectful to the teachers, just enough snark to his friends to be normal, one of the few people I consider a close friend. She basically went off on him in the hallway, words into seeds of strangle vines, growing wrapping around his throat and a voice like a scalpel, so sharp you don’t feel it at first but then god it burns, surgically placed to do the most damage. From a passerby’s point of view it wasn’t much, just her being kinda snippy because he barely reacted to her, but to anyone who had ever heard her before it was a mauling.

She confided in me later she had one of the worst feelings she had ever felt in her life from him, and I can’t blame her. As much as I love the guy, he’s at least slightly unhinged and away from reality at the best of times. That week, I’m pretty sure the school barely survived a mass shooting, and only that because it was too tame for him, not enough pain. “Mother always taught me to share, and if I took that the wrong way well it couldn’t be helped, could it?” Not him, but I think it describes what I was trying to say pretty well.

Anyway, the point of that was it’s like she has an extra sense to feel people, so why couldn’t there be a way to sense the soul? I think people may even already be capable of it, even if they don’t understand it. That is to say, it’s the parts and pieces of your brain, those primitive, primeval that tell us to run away when faced with danger, that tell us yes, reproduce with that person, become a gibbering wreck in their very presence because that’s just a great idea, those bits. There’s actually a debate in psychology over that, if it’s the brain that runs the human body by sheer need and instinct, or if the human consciousness, the comparatively very small piece of us that we bestow with our own name, our everyday life, the one who sat and typed this thing you’re reading (I think). 

Anyway, what I was saying was that people already act in strange and inexplicable ways, for seemingly no reason. You see it the most in kids. Kids notice things, whether because they haven’t been trained to ignore that stuff because it’s etiquette, don’cha know, or they have less in their memory banks and so rely more on the ancient parts of themselves, the beast that clawed its way through the depths of the primordial muck of the universe, and so they see things. Simply put, our brains analyze huge amounts of information at all times, and we learn to block it out from childhood because it’s too much and it hurts. (On a side note, I’ve noticed the smartest people are the ones who pay the most attention to the small details, the ones who kept trying to remember everything at a glance and built it up little by little, inch by inch, devoted themselves to it above all else, because they had a burning need and they couldn’t do it without. The hardest ones to catch relaxed are the ones that never relax, as obvious as that sounds.)

So when your brain is sifting through all that information, it encounters things that it knows, things written deep into the genetic bones, the movement of predators, the eyes of the helpless, the bright smile pasted on top of the bloody wound, and sometimes it’s nothing more than a half-formed thought, barely paid attention to because you’re busy, or a strange reaction to a smiling face (KILLER MURDERER DEFILER OF BONES KIN SLAYER WRONG BAD BAD WRONG WRONGWRONGWRONGWRONGWRONG-).

What if part of that was the soul? Something our brain couldn’t identify into right/wrong yes/no red/blue/green but still something anyway that couldn’t be quantified but was still there? An instinct, from a bygone era, created for whatever reason?

Anyway, not all of this makes total sense, or even reliable physical (hey, physics, just realized that) sense, but it was an idea. My truth, my belief, my adamant pillar holding up the sky, my religion of thought. I know I talked way too much to convey such a simple concept, and that I danced around everything until the end, but I wanted to explain why, the evidence, the intensity of the emotion behind all of these stringed together concepts so that anyone reading it wouldn’t just think I was blowing smoke up out of my ass trying to be #deep. Anyway.

Tl;dr? Souls are cool. So are brains. Go read it, you might enjoy it more than you think.