#all those authors just didn’t have strong bowels

[doodles-with-noodles]

Today I was in an exhibition for space and they had an orbit simulator. Of course my annoying space obsessed fool ass had to go on it and tbh I expected it to be terrible because all books I have ever read say that it is a horrible thing and you get dizzy. So I was a little concerned.

They lied.

Cue to me having the best two minutes of my life getting turned upside down and spun around while strapped to that thing (although my sight was a little blurry). 10/10 would recommend and do again. Didn’t even get dizzy.

[ikevamp-shrine]

“You make everyday an adventure Cara Mia, sleep well.”

Author: @ikevamp-shrine

Fandom: Ikemen vampire

Warnings: mentions of blood and puke

Word count: 1808

Character(s): Anna (MC), Leonardo, Arthur, Theo, Isaac

So you know those daydream fantasies you get while on the toilet... or something? Well this is one of those. Honestly I think it’s a little cringe 😂 but I couldn’t get it out of my head so yeah... welp enjoy.

                                                ~*~

“Cara?” 

Leonardo shifted from his orginal laying position to rest on his elbow at the sound of whimpering emmiting from his sleeping lover. She was sweating and shaking, her eyebrows furrowed in pain. 

“Cara mia?” Leonardo repeated while gently shaking her shoulder with his hands, concern written on his face.

“Anna!” Leonardo’s voice turned serious when she stopped breathing. The frantic girl shot up and furiously looked around the room until her gaze landed on Leonardo’s worried eyes. 

“Leo-,” Anna’s voice was interrupted when she felt the hurried burning of bile rising up in her throat. Shocking Leonardo, Anna threw the comforter off her throbbing body, planting her feet on the wooden floor attempting to make a mad dash to the toilet only to end up tripping, her world tilting before her eyes. Pain shot up her arms as the corner of random sharp nick knacks splayed across the room dug into her hands and forearms. The thin night dress she was wearing flowed out around her like wings fluttering through the air. Leonardo was at her side in less than a second as he helped her sit upright, shearching her dazed, pain filled eyes.

“Anna do not move- you’re bleeding.” 

It was only then at Leonardo’s words did she notice the wet drops of blood sliding down her arms onto the cluttered floor below. The sight of her own blood did nothing to help the sickening feeling quickly rising in her trembling body.

“Leo, I’m going to pu-” Anna gasped out when she was lifted off the ground and rushed out of the room and into the adjacent bathroom from the couple’s shared room. As soon as the toliet came into her view, it was like Anna’s body skipped the gagging process and went straight to puking her guts, barely having time to actually open the lid. Leonardo quickly grabbed his lover’s hair and wrapped it around his fist to keep it from being soiled by the horrid smelling puke. A chill racked its way through Anna’s trembling body as she gagged, groaned, and expelled her dinner that she could barely finish while eating that afternoon.

“Good girl... let it out baby. I’ll take care of you Cara so just let it out,” whispered Leonardo as his large calloused hands rubbed gentle circles on Anna’s back. His voice was calm and soothing, a lovely deep constrast to the ugly sounds of his lover’s actions.

“Leonardo,” Anna sobbed, “it hurts.”

“It will be okay Anna, you’ll be okay.” Leonardo didn’t know if he was telling her that for her reassurance or his own sanity. He had seen the way she acted during the day and he knew she was coming down with something, but she tried every trick in the book to convince him she was fine- that it was just allergies, so he let her have it. Her skin was pale- too pale, the entirety of the day, and she would shiver every so often as if moving made her sick. Leonardo had caught her a few times coughing as if trying to rid herself of a lung, and all he would do is glance at her with observing eyes only to be waved off.

Allergies she had said. God how horrible he felt at this moment that he hadn’t forced her to quit working and rest.

“Damn,” cursed Leonardo when Anna went limp in his arms suddenly, causing panic to rise in his chest even if his outward appearance remained calm. His silky greyish locks tickled Anna’s nose as he shifted her in his strong arms, lifting her from the cold tiled bathroom floor. The cotton clothing consisting of his normal everyday attire, he once more forgot to change before he passed out on the bed, rustled with each quick step Leonardo took towards the game room he had an inkling Arthur would be in at this time of night. Leonardo knew it was a risk to carry a bleeding Anna around a mansion of hungry male vampires, but leaving her alone would be even more dangerous. 

At least this way he was with her to protect her, Leonardo thought as he glanced down at his lover who groaned pitifully. The closer Leonardo came to the game room the louder the laughter and voices became until the voices stopped all together... probably from the scent of blood.

“...do you smell that?” 

The sight Leonardo walked into would before have made him laugh, but at this moment his anxiety was so high he didn’t think he could laugh for the next little while. Arthur and Theo were competing against each other in a game of chess the former would most definitely win, while Isaac’s head was sandwiched between Theo’s bicep and rib cage. Of course that all changed when Leonardo walked in with a still dripping blood and passed out human female in his arms.

Theo’s brows furrowed, his arm relseasing Isaac who tumbled to the floor, but the art seller made no other move from his seated position as if sensing the greater vampire’s growing worry. Isaac’s hand quickly shot to cover his nose and mouth, his face shifting into a grimance. He shot off the floor and just stood there as his peach colored eyes watched each slow drop of blood like a predator hunting his prey.

Leonardo’s smoky golden eyes shifted over to a quivering Isaac, who was quickly loosing his control on his own blood lust, when a low guttural growl slid past the pureblood’s lips slithering through the suddenly chilled air and slicing through the lesser vampires’ eardrums. The growl was terrifying, putting the whole room to a stand still. Arthur froze, Isaac froze, Theo froze. 

To hell with their father-son like relationship, Leonardo thought, if Isaac went after her he wouldn’t hesitate to throw their bond out the window and drag him down to the bowels of hell himself.

No one would be touching Anna without getting their head torn clean off. 

“My... ha, Leonardo that was quite scary, but I need you to put her down on the table and keep her steady while I look at her wound,” Arthur’s shaky voice broke Leonardo out of his stare down with Isaac causing the smaller male to bolt out of the room.

“She woke up, fell, and then puked,” Leonardo spoke smoothly as he watched Arthur slide the chess board off the table and onto the nearby couch, and continued speaking while laying the still unconscious human on the table, “she was acting strange yesterday, gagging, pale, shivering, breathing heavily at the smallest actions, coughing up a lung... all the signs of-.”

“Pneumonia,” Arthur interrupted lifting his head from Anna’s chest after listening to her breathing.

Theo tried to shuffle out the door undetected freezing when Arthur said, “Theo go get my medical bag- up on the shelf in my closet. Gods speed.”

After a few quiet moments of Leonardo stalking each action of Arthur, Theo stepped back in, laying the large bulky bag next to Arthur.

“Such a troublesome Hondjie she is,” Theo whispered walking back out of the room. The scent of blood was slightly getting to him and Theo in no way, shape, or form wanted to be on the receiving end of the pure blood’s blinding rage.

“High fever, struggling to breath, chills, vomiting,” Arthur mumbled on, “any allergies you know of?”

“She’s allergic to pineapple, but other than that she hasn’t told me of any,” Leonardo mumbled deeply.

“Hm, well how disappointing... now she might wake up from this so... don’t chew my head off.” Arthur's voice lessened in volume at the last part while he threaded a needle and placed it against her skin.

Leonardo’s jaw felt as if it was crack while watching Arthur stitch his lover’s wound up. She still slept but flinched at every new puncture of her skin. This was all his fault.

Soon enough the couple were back in Leonardo’s room, Anna sleeping deeply and peacefully- finally- bundled up in the thick blankets on Leonardo’s bed. The pureblood had dragged a chair beside the bedside to watch his lover’s chest rise and fall while changing the wet rag on her forehead. 

“Oh my love, how foolish I am,” Leonardo sighed, chuckling self depreciably, running a heavy calloused hand down his face. Leonardo’s fingers twitched with the need to hold a smoke between his digits. 

“...this is not your fault Da Vinci,” Anna grumbled out while slowly pushing herself up and tossing the rag into the cold bowl of water. 

“You have pneumonia Anna,” Leonardo gruffly spoke, leaving his hand on his forehead and glancing over his cheeks at the girl who was now sniffing her dress collar, a grimace on her features.

“Lord I smell of puke,” she whispered before glancing at Leonardo with a hopeful expression and joking, “you still love me correct?”

Leonardo couldn’t help but smirk at her question. 

“Always Cara Mia.”

“Well time to get up.”

“Are you insane?” Leonardo whispered as he watched the girl struggle to rid herself of the burrito like blankets, lightly pushing her back down the man couldn’t help but roll his eyes dramatically at the girl’s display of slight defiance and huff. 

“Stop pouting little lamb, you passed out and had to get stitches. You may move around as much as you shall please when you get better.”

“... whatever.” 

“Good girl.”

Anna sighed and attempted to bite her lover’s hand when he tried to ruffle her hair.

The couple slid into a comfortable silence, Leonardo grabbing the closest book to him and opening to the first page, Anna shifting to lay on her side to stare at her lover. The ticking of a clock, gentle rushing of the wind against the window, the distant purring of a cat, quiet flipping of pages all lulled Anna into a sleepy state. She could barely keep her eyes opened at the moment and the warmth of the blankets that seemed to seep into her bones did nothing to help.

Leonardo shifted his gaze, noticing his human was fighting sleep he began to read aloud. His deep, gravely voice weaved its way through the air, reverberating against the walls and tracing its way up Anna’s skin. 

“Sleep, Anna, I will be here beside you for every moment,” Leonardo whispered as he placed delicate lips against the crown of his lover’s head, breathing in their scent, causing a wave of calm and relaxation to crash over his large body. 

A soft hum sounded from the girl as the sweet scent of Leonardo finally pushed her over the edge, tumbling into the land of dreams.

The flipping of pages once more began as Leonardo sat back, resting his feet on a pile of who knows what. 

“You make everyday an adventure Cara Mia, sleep well.”

MASTERLIST

[imnotwolverine]

The marriage pact - Red alert

Henry Cavill x OC Alice - multi-chapter

< Part 22 | Part 23 Red alert | Part 24 >

Disclaimer: A little naughty (maybe not entirely PG13? What do you kids watch these days anyways?) and a bit of travel sickness 

Author’s note: 🔥(That’s all I have to say) 

Word count: 1.919

(Link to my Masterlist)

Dear readers,

I never thought I would come to say this, but I think I’ve learned to appreciate the cold. I’m still not a great fan of it, let that be clear. But there’s something quite funny about the routine you build around such extreme temperatures. Digging yourself out of your trailer? Check. Doing jumping jacks while letting your dog pee in the snow? Check. Ice fishing and making Maple Syrup Taffy (which I adore by now)? Check.  

Today is our last day here in Canada and I’ll miss the polite fun folk we have met, the film crew whom are absolute rockstars no matter how extreme the cold got and I’ll most definitely NOT miss the trailer we lived in. Three broken heaters. A leaking shower. A bed that was barely large enough for me to stretch my legs (poor chocolate cake had to almost sleep folded in half) and no place to properly dry your clothes meant it smelt like old fart if you didn’t light some scented candles.

But no more old farts! We are going home!

See you soon dear parents, friends and other good acquaintances. I can’t wait to share all my stories with you in person!

Ali

‘Oophh..I’m not feeling so well Hen.’ I croaked, gripping the arm rest of the airplane seat tightly. I felt about as green as the puking bag I held in my other hand, ready in case my body would no longer hold in the two puny sandwiches I had for breakfast.

Henry rubbed a strong hand over the nape of my neck, cooing some comforting words in my ear over the loud noise of the plane engines and storm outside.

And…DROP…there went the plane again, my bowels drifting for a few milliseconds too long, making the bile rise in the back of my throat. Shaking my head in terror I opened the bag, trying my utter best to breath in deeply through my nose.

Somewhere in the racket of the aerial doom I could hear the quiet whining of Kal, the poor dog folded in between Henry’s legs.

Quite a pair we were, hmm? Scared Kal, sick Alice.

Slowly I felt my breathing calm, the bile sinking back where it belonged, the cold sweat on my skin drying somewhat.

‘Please tell me it..’

DROP. The plane made another dive through the air, my previous green hue right back where it was just moments ago. My face got sweaty again and my breath choked as I kept my mouth clenched tight to prevent any bile from exiting any orifices. 

Usually I was pretty okay with flying. But this? This?! Oh my word. This was something else! I wasn’t even sure if Henry was an actual human, his body calm and relaxed, voice soothing. Like nothing was the matter and we weren’t right now looking right in the gaping mouth of a hell storm, ready to be devoured.

‘I can’t do.. This.’ I gulped, sitting back up and looking white as a sheet, my eyes trying to focus on the chair before me.

‘You’re doing real well.’ Henry praised, his warm hand pushing some sticky strands of hair away from my face. ‘Deep breath in and puff puff puff out.’ He puffed along with me and the very act made me somewhat forget about our predicament. I swallowed back another bit of bile and quickly looked over at him, his mouth still shaped in a little “o” as he helped me puff. ‘I’m not having a baby over here Hen.’ I sniffled, then felt my body protest again, the bile jumping back up in my throat.

Henry laughed. ‘If it works, it works. Besides, a little practise is always good.’ I could clearly distinguish the humour in his voice but feeling sick as a dog I first needed another one of those long inhales followed by a series of puffs before I could look back at him. With an exasperated look I puffed into his face, making him laugh even harder. ‘You’re nearly there baby!’ He cheered, taking the piss with me a bit. I growled and shook my head in annoyance. ‘You…’

‘Just another..four more hours.’ He winked, pointing at the screens that showed the flight time.

‘I hate you right now..*breath in* Cavill *ppfffff pfff pfff*’

‘Just wait until I put an actual baby in you.’ He whiskered huskily in my ear.

Oh how glad I was that nobody could hear us over the loud racket. That nobody could hear my stomach make an actual somersault - both in a good and bad way at the same time. And oh how glad I was I wasn’t physically able to launch myself at him right now, because truly..this man? This man was the greatest of teasers and right now he could most definitely need some..well..let’s say “putting in place”?

—

‘Home sweet home!!’ Henry turned the key of the blue slated house, the hour late and Kal lagging behind us as he was making a reintroduction with the front yard. Tail wagging, nose sniffing, he was acquainting himself with his new home. Our home. Our very own home. A very empty home, too.

We had not really had any time to move and buy furniture, so right now the large house only had a few basic pieces; a bed, a small couch, a kitchen table with two chairs and a few lights. Henry flicked his hand over the light switch to turn it on, but darkness did not evaporate with the burst of yellowish light. It remained dark instead. Grumbling Henry took his phone from his back pocket and used it to shine some light on the light switch.

‘Strange.’ He grumbled, looking over at me as I was calling Kal inside. Stepping in behind him I noticed that something was amiss. ‘Missing a spark there, sir?’ I winked and just like that his annoyance was forgotten, his face breaking into a smile. ‘Looks like it’s going to be a romantic night in the dark ages, my fair lady.’ - ‘Mmm…sounds terribly romantic.’

Closing the door behind us and following Henry’s flashlight into the kitchen, our feet echoing loudly in the empty hallway, we found some groceries his parents had done for us earlier that day. We filled Kal’s bowl, opened the bottle of red wine we found and decided to drink our first celebratory glass of alcohol in bed, the house being a bit chilly as the heating also seemed to have died along with the electricity.

‘I think the dead heater has cursed us.’ I mumbled, trembling under the sheets, body propped up against the headboard and Henry pouring us two glasses. He chuckled. ‘We’ll make sure to sacrifice a virgin later. But first things first; a toast!’

I laughed and clinked glasses with him, the mattress shifting as he moved in close beside me, his lips quite instantaneously finding mine before I could even take a sip. ‘Mmmm..it may have taken me a good 37-ish years to woo you, dear Alice, but please let me tell you that I am the happiest man in the world right now.’ He kissed me again, more passionately.

I chuckled into his kiss, pulling back slightly. ‘I am glad about that too. Even as I lay here in all my clothes, shivering under a blanket, stinking of airplane and probably tasting of bile, too.’ I winked at Henry, his features half-lit by the light of his phone’s flashlight that he had now placed on the foot end of the bed. He laughed and pressed another kiss on my lips. ‘Oh no. Nothing can quite stop me from loving you, I’m sure. Absolutely..’ He pressed a kiss lower on my neck, his teeth gripping onto the neck of my comfy, but totally un-sexy turtleneck sweater. ‘Nothing.’ He growled, tugging at it playfully, making me laugh even harder.

We had taken only two more sips of our wines before we busied ourselves with reacquainting with another piece we had missed very much; his bed. Now, our bed. Limbs tangling together, lips locking, there were a few things that simply didn’t change. Henry was a bear in every..sense..of the word. Big, bulky, sweet, hairy bear hugs. 

And apparently next to family planning, long airplane flights ALSO got him terribly horny.

—

Squinting my eyes I looked to my side, finding a still asleep Henry entangled with my arms and legs. Which, in and of its own was quite unique as Henry was usually up way before I even managed to blink open a heavy eyelid. Grumbling I shifted my hip and felt something weird on my leg.

Was that a …SNAIL?

Squirming and huffing in disgust I quickly shot out of bed, only realising a moment too late what it actually was. Not a snail or anything of an animalistic nature. A condom. Gasping quietly I saw Henry wake up as well, his blue eyes immediately searching for me and finding me next to the bed. Quizzically frowning at me he grumbled. ‘Mmwhat is it?’ He rubbed his eyes and yawned, then saw what I was pointing at. The condom.

‘Oh..’ He blinked, picking it up with deft fingers, then blinked a few times more when he realised that it was not just a condom. It was a..broken..condom. We both held our breath, the last remains of sleep immediately lifted.

‘Holy crap.’ I gasped, our eyes meeting in a moment of silent understanding. Henry sat up and swallowe harshly. ‘I’m SO sorry. Oh..’ He quickly tossed the condom aside and pulled the sheets away, large crusty stains everywhere. ‘Oh god I’m so sorry Ali. I didn’t know..I…’ He gave me a pleading look, large hairy chest heaving with terror.

And yet, despite the fact this was not truly a funny thing, I laughed. ‘Oh my..’ I chuckled, shaking my head slightly. ‘Well that was an adventurous night, for sure.’ I said, slowly crawling back on the bed, evading the large crusty stain in the middle. Henry sighed and rubbed his face again. ‘Damn. Do you want to go to the pharma..-’

‘No.’ I cut him short. Our eyes met again and just like that another silent agreement was made, Henry’s pleading eyes melting into ones of tender love. ‘Really?’

I giggled and crawled into his lap, nuzzling his nose and enjoying the warmth of his arms as they wrapped around me. ‘Really Ali?’

‘Henry! Please do not make me regret a thing that feels good.’

Henry’s chest rumbled with a deep chuckle. ‘So.. it’s okay?’

I nodded and looked deep into his ocean blue eyes. ‘To me it’s okay. Is it for you?’ I asked with honest curiosity, but I couldn’t keep a serious face for long when I saw Henry’s over enthused face. ‘Alice..Alice Alice Alice..is this what I think it is?’ He whispered, eyes large and expecting, his hands rubbing slow circles over my lower back. I grinned and nodded, shrugging ever so slightly. ‘It’s not like we aren’t on the same page. No matter what happens. We want this, right?’ - ‘Right.’ - ‘Then let this happy little accident make it so.’ - ‘Okay.’ Henry said, still coming up to speed with what we had just decided upon.

‘AAAHH!!’ He exclaimed rolling us over, the dirty sheets sticking to our bodies, making me laugh with joy. ‘I love you, I love you, I love you!’ He whispered with great contentment, his lips travelling down my jawline, pressing sweet kisses on every inch of skin he could find.

‘I love you too Henry. Now better warm me up before we’re going to probably have our coldest shower EVER.’

‘With pleasure.’  

--

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[arabellaflynn]

Text of a test monologue. Would you like to see me deliver this on camera, with no makeup, no lighting equipment, and using Notepad as a TelePrompTer? Head on over to my https://www.patreon.com/ArabellaFlynnPatreon, and for a dollar a month you too can see me waffle on in real time.

Hi, all. You may notice that I am on video now. I was going to shoot a couple of tests and apologize for the poor quality of the footage, and explain that I want to start vlogging and streaming in addition to writing, but I need some equipment to do it properly and for that I need to raise some funds... But fuck it. This is going out first instead.

As I record this, it is the fourth of July. You can probably hear the fireworks outside my window. I know I can. There are a lot of those, because we've all been inside and bored for the past four months. 

I know a lot of people who have opted not to observe the holiday this year. The 4th of July is often viewed as a celebration of the American institution, which is a little bit on fire right now, with a few people determined to squirt lighter fluid all over the flames like a bored suburban dad at a barbecue. On the other hand, it's also Independence Day, and marks the end of the long, painful process by which a population broke free of distant, uncaring overlords who cared mainly about the financial dividends of their colonies, and ignored the grievances of the people until they started breaking shit. So YMMV.

I would comment on some of the details, but I don't know them. The Late Show is on hiatus, and John Oliver doesn't air until tomorrow. I, like a lot of my demographic, get most of my current events from comedians. There's a reason for that.

I actually watched a lot of news as a teenager.

Well, "watched" might be too strong a word. It's easier for me to fall asleep if there's some sort of droning noise in the background. When I was about fifteen, I discovered that, unlike the main CNN channel, which has actual shows and documentaries, CNN Headline News just runs the day's top stories over and over again in an unending 30 minute loop. Interesting enough to keep me from falling into a train of thought that will prevent me from sleeping, boring enough that I don't want to stay up and listen.

I have no memory of the desk anchors. I'm sure they were consummate professionals, but they also had no distinguishing human characteristics whatsoever. I know they were updating the loop live, because occasionally a story would be added to the list and another one would drop off the back, and occasionally one would flub the text on their prompter, but other than that there was no hint that the face at the desk was attached to a living, breathing person.

I do remember a couple of the correspondents. One was Christiane Amanpour. Her voice stood out; CNN is an American news station that was originally restricted to American cable networks, and the vast majority of the staff is from the US. Amanpour is British-Iranian, having split her childhood between Tehran, before the revolution, and London, after. They liked to send her to the bowels of Eastern Europe to report from the war-torn streets of Citygrad in Countrystan. She had already caught some criticism on her reporting of the Bosnian War, for advancing the apparently controversial opinion that genocide was bad. I didn't know that at the time; I just thought she sounded more like she told real stories than read off lists of facts.

Another was Anderson Cooper, who was not nearly such a big deal then as he is now. Cooper, a self-described adrenaline junkie, was a war correspondent at the time, with a habit of ducking only briefly for explosions before standing back up to continue his piece to camera. He wouldn't be infamous until his coverage of Hurricane Katrina years later, both for the overall stellar job he did, and also for that one time he got tired of getting non-answers from some government toad in a live interview and very professionally flipped his shit at the lady, asking if she realized how tone deaf it was to sit there thanking other politicians for doing essentially nothing while there were still bodies in the street.

I quit watching the news when I moved away to college. It wasn't necessarily that knowing was worse than not knowing, but I felt a lot of pressure to be "adult" about it at that point, and watching proper news shows made me anxious to the point where I wouldn't sleep. I outright avoided it to the point where I made it to a canceled class at 4 pm, Mountain Standard Time, on September 11, 2001, before anyone told me what was going on.

I wasn't able to put my finger on why I found the news so horrible until many years later. I can't remember what rabbit hole I'd fallen down, but I ended up sitting on YouTube watching segments of the live news coverage of the 1981 assassination attempt on President Reagan. Reagan was shot in the side and later recovered without complications, but his Press Secretary, James Brady, was struck in the head and sustained considerable neurological damage. Brady, together with his wife Sarah, later went on to be a noted advocate for gun control, but at the time was reported to have died on the scene. 

I wound up watching a lot of one of the news desks -- ABC, I think. It started out like all the others, until the anchor tripped up a couple of times and referred to Press Secretary Brady as "Jim", and I realized: He knows these people. Personally. He's a member of the White House Press Corps, or a friend of the Bradys, or both. I'm watching a journalist reporting on a moment of historical significance to the American people, and a human being who has to tell the entire nation about someone's personal tragedy. His investment did not make him any less professional or informative than any of the others, but it did make his coverage feel very grounded in reality in a way that most news, then and now, does not.

The older I get, the more disquieting I find it to have a talking head behind a shiny desk read me a list of horrible things that have happened today without any apparent reaction. It makes it seem like these things are a randomized representative sample of the cruelty of the universe, rather than what they are, which is a list of things so unusually terrible they made the news. I realize that this is part of an effort to remain impartial so that the viewer can decide how they feel about events, but it's also disturbingly normative. Yes, everything is on fire, everything is always on fire, this is nothing new. 

I can't say I'm any more enamored of the opposite, either, the more recent style where the news anchor's entire job is to tell you that entirety of human existence is awful and here's what you should prioritize being afraid of this week. Everything around you is on fire, the fire is racing right at you, and here's whose fault the fire is.

A lot of Americans, especially younger ones, have taken to getting their news mostly from political satire because-- well, one, because for about the past twenty years, our comedians have been better at fact-checking than our actual newsrooms. You can thank Jon Stewart for getting a bee in his bonnet over that. But also because their coverage of major issues takes neither of those paths. The Daily Show alumni write up stories like they actually live on the planet they're reporting from. You're on fire? They're on fire too! Holy shit, let's all find some water! 

The conceit behind the comedy of The Daily Show and the Colbert Report and Full Frontal and Last Week Tonight and now the monologues on The Late Show is not that this is a normal amount of fire for everything to be on so it's fine, nor establishing that someone has set you on fire on purpose and here's who should be punished for it. It's bewilderment and frustration at the way we somehow keep catching on fire over and over again. Yeah, they crack jokes, because it's their job, but all the jokes are predicated on the idea that this is, above all, just very, very, inexplicably stupid. We can, and we should, be better than this. And the hosts stubbornly refuse to just give up and internalize as immutable all the reasons why we aren't.

You wouldn't know it to look at him, but Jon Stewart has accumulated "fuck you" money from his time on The Daily Show, among other things. I really hope the rest of them are doing the same. Because we need some figureheads who are able to say "fuck you" to a lot of authority figures right now without having to worry about how their family is going to survive the next month. John Oliver has HBO backing and I'm pretty sure Last Week Tonight has roughly equal budgets set aside for handling lawsuits and shoveling money at charity. Stephen Colbert has been insulting Donald Trump as hard as he possibly can since day one, and he just re-upped until 2023. Samantha Bee has her husband holding the camera to shoot her monologues out in the woods. 

They've all figured out how to produce their show over the internet, so at least we have something to watch in the After Times.

I really hope the neighbors run out of fireworks soon. Aside from not wanting the neighborhood to be literally on fire at any point, one of my housemates has a dog, and the dog has epilepsy, so this has been an interesting evening. Sorry about the fireworks, sorry about the camera, sorry about the country, sorry about the state of the world. Imma go find my Xanax. G'night.

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[tomjopson]

The idea of a fic director’s cut is fascinating to me and tbh if you pasted any fic of yours in a doc and wrote a commentary, I’d be delighted to read it, but for the purpose of this meme: anything you’d like to say about “hope lost on yesterdays”? 🙌✨

I all but copy-pasted the fic, condensed with added commentary below the cut!

Sorry mobile users since read mores dont work properly on the app  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

“hope lost on yesterdays” writers commentary addition  *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

//

The grind is deep enough that Edward feels the vibration inhis bones. It is a deep, guttural bellow, like that of a mammoth gate of ironand rust scraping open to reveal a deep descent into the bowels of the earth,beyond its molten crust into the unending conflagration of hell.

[Portrayals of hell in literature and media alike havealways fascinated me. Now of course, my portrayal here leans the traditionalfire/brimstone imagery, but I also like to play with the idea of a frozenwasteland, such as the Arctic itself, being indicatory of a hellish landscape.]

//

The ship groans again, as magnificently and terribly as acrack of lightning, and for a brief, heart-stopping second, Edward wonders ifthis was the final one; the wood of the ship splintering and bending to theintense pressure of the ice, crumpling inward as easily as a paper boat crushedin a child’s careless grip. [Is it a Terror fic without the ice groaning andsome metaphor about the ice crushing the ship? I think not. But I was pleasedwith the analogy of the child and paper boat which took me more time to comeup with than I like to admit because it makes the ice as careless and indifferent as a child with a plaything; it removes the malice from the force of nature.]

//

“You’d think it get easier,” Solomon’s rumbling andsleep-filled voice says, “ignoring the ice. Damn noise wakes me up every time.”[For all the people who sayI get Solomon’s voice down (which, by the way thank you ), Iliterally mutter dialogue to myself as I write it, and if I can picture DavidWalmsley saying it, I call it good.]

//

Edward hums in response, sliding deeper under the covers ofthe bunk when the man beside him turns toward him and wraps a pair of strongarms around his middle. The tip of Edward’s nose brushes against the man’sbeard, and he sniffs at the tickle.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” Edward whispers, his eyesfluttering shut again when Solomon’s fingers start rubbing circles on his lowback. [Lots of casual intimacy in these paragraphs, constant little touches,a continual desire to be in contact; this plays off my belief that Edwardhimself is very tactile but also the intimacy that has blossomed between thesetwo and has translated to how physically comfortable they are with each other]

//

Solomon nudges a leg under him, and Edward allows him to twist them around sothat Edward lies on top [I love making characters manhandle Edward. Not surewhat that says about me…], the new position accentuating the leftover achebetween his legs. 

//

…Sergeant Tozer had crept through the vacant wardroom to Edward’scabin door, sliding it open quietly and quickly, without invitation, but asmall and warm grin on his lips that dispelled any reprimand forming onEdward’s tongue. [Part of the appeal of many, many pairings in Terror isthat they’re all forbidden, to a certain extent. There’s always thethrill of secrecy and the risk of being caught, that makes each relationshipfeel dangerous and exhilarating, portrayed differently depending on thecharacters and how he would personally react to breaking/bending rules.]  

//

…further loosened by the bottle ofmadeira that Solomon retrieved from the inner folds of his coat, lifted duringthe re-organizing of the ship’s stores as they prepared for the long walkacross the ice. [Although at this point in the show’s canon, Solomon does not like Hickey and has not flirted with the idea of mutiny yet, hehas made his feelings on authority pretty clear, so I like to think that hisway of “sticking it to the man” would manifest in things like his stealing thewine.]

//

“And who will punish me? Can’t be the first lieutenant.He’s a habit of breaking rules himself.”

“What rules would those be?”

Solomon had given him a wicked smirk as he handed him thebottle.

“I don’t think the Admiralty takes kindly to theirofficers sucking cocks, sir.”

[Another trope I like exploring in Terror fics is how themen react to homosexuality, his own personal sexual preference, the need forromantic vs platonic vs sexual love, and how that translates to hisinterpersonal relationships. Now, because I am an absolute sap, Itypically lean romance in a lot of my portrayals, but I like to think that whatdrew Solomon and Edward together in the first place was physical.]

//

They fucked in near silence, the pillow swallowing Edward’ssighs and Solomon digging his teeth into Edward’s shoulders to muffle hismoans. [The sex scene is straightforward because these two clearly know whatthey want from each other and don’t feel the need to draw it out withunnecessary pretense. Plus, at this point in their relationship, I believethey’ve fucked a few times before and have their nonverbal communication and rhythm down.]

//

Perhaps it was the acceptance that their expedition had failed, and now, theywere simply trying to escape the Arctic with as few casualties as possible. [Ireally want to highlight the last line of this paragraph because I think, in alot of ways, conceding defeat and accepting failure is one the biggestcharacter flaws of numerous Terror characters. Admitting failure is tough,sure, but the stubbornness and arrogance of this led to men’s deaths and further suffering. And of course, the failure is even worse when you add the ever-increasing number of men lost.]

//

That night was also when Sergeant Tozer—some unspeakablequality also altered in him, following Carnivale and the death of PrivateHeather—had crossed the threshold into officer country for the first time andelbowed his way into Edward’s cabin and bed. [It was important for me tomention the loss of Heather, whether as the loss of a friend to Tozer or theloss of one of his “men” so to speak. This loss was what propelledTozer forward, to pursue Little. The use of the verb elbow wasjust a further nod to how Tozer wrenched his way into Little’s life, but youknow like affectionately.]

//

“I don’t want to go,” he admits, the words falling from histongue like the last leaves clinging to a long-dead tree.

“You don’t have to. This is your cabin.”

The attempt at humor is poor, but the irritation in Edward’svoice is dulled by his exhaustion.

“The ships, Tozer. I don’t want to leave the ships.” [I love this exchange, because Edwardis broaching a very difficult topic, and Tozer just lets it slide off his backlike water, still attempting to bring lightness to the situation.]

//

Instead, Solomon’s voice is muffled by the hair on Edward’s headwhen he says, “We may die yet, and all this will finally be over.” [self-destructiveor simply realistic? This fatalism that grows in Tozer is partly what made himso susceptible to Hickey’s mutiny later.]

//

Edward sits on the edge of his bunk, and Solomon’s kneesbump into his as the man fumbles toward him in the darkness. Solomon gropes forEdward’s hand, and he unfurls each finger, tracing the lines along Edward’spalm. The longer he stands there, holding Edward’s hand, the more that Edwardfights the urge to interlace their fingers and pull Solomon back. [It was soso so important to me that it wasn’t just 1) drink 2) fuck 3) leave, so I triedto infuse as much sensual intimacy as I could into this story. The sex is aperk, sure, but what ultimately draws these two together is a deep desire for connection, understanding, and comfort. The hand holding is another exchangethat shows how they don’t want this shared moment to end, and how both of thembenefit from and desire this intimacy.]

//

“See you on the other side, sir,” he says as his goodbyebefore he slides the door open and leaves. [Significant that this is what he says vs simply a goodbye or, worse, nothing.]

//

Edward settles himself back into his bed, burying his noseinto the portion of his pillow where traces of Solomon’s scent clings. [The yearning.Still clinging to traces of Solomon, even as the man’s presence disappears fromthe room.]

//

[Final note, I wrote this in a single evening, literallyout of a desperate desire to have more Little/Tozer content. I went into itdeciding that I didn’t even care if the fic was any good or not, and, much tomy chagrin but also relief, this ended up being one of my better fics. Removingthe crippling perfectionism and expectations does writers wonders. I also very much want to write a companion piece that takes place during the first day both of them are at Terror Camp together, so fingers crossed that I write that sooner than later.]

[gumnut-logic]

The Run

Title: The Run

Part Three of the Avalanche Trio

Part One – Diversion by Scribbles97

Part Two – I Know by Gumnut

Authors: Gumnut & Scribbles97

Jul 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: “We have each other, their legacy and the means to stop it from happening to as many people as we can.”

Word count: 3567

Spoilers & warnings: SPOILERS FOR 3.18

Timeline: Episode Tag

Author’s note: Lookie! @scribbles97 and I wrote a fic together! This is the third fic in the triumvirate of Avalanche Episode Tags. We hope you enjoy it :D

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

As always Sally made sure she could locate all her boys on their return from a rescue. Gordon in particular had appeared exhausted, despite not having been directly involved. But today had been out of the ordinary. It was one of those rescues, one that brought up past issues, past pain and took all of them down.

As usual Gordon and Alan gravitated together. She was thankful they had each other. Each of the boys loved each other, but they also paired up for support. Alan and Gordon usually connived together, but at the same time, they also supported together. 

The same could be said about the two eldest, but to her surprise, Virgil and Scott separated. Scott running off who knew where using the excuse of exercise, and Virgil disappearing into the bowels of the hangars. 

Consequently, when John found her, she was uneasy.

“Grandma?”

“Oh, John.” She reached up and wrapped her arms around her middle grandchild. God, he was tall. “Are you sure you’ve stopped growing?”

“Pretty sure I have.” John had a gorgeous smile.

“How are you feeling?”

His eyes glanced at the floor. “Okay.”

She sighed. “Somehow I don’t entirely believe that.”

He shrugged. “It is what it is. Not much I can do about it.”

“How is Gordon?”

It was his turn to sigh. “Stubborn as any Tracy. I had to drag him down. He won’t admit it, but he is exhausted.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him. Alan’s with him in the meantime.”

“Where are Scott and Virgil?”

She eyed him. “I’m a little worried.”

An arched eyebrow. “That bad?”

Letting out a breath, she wrapped an arm around his...well, his waist, his shoulders were way beyond her. “Virgil did have to save Alan from an avalanche. I’m sure that is not a happy thought for either of them.”

He was silent a moment. Quietly. “I saw.”

“See if you can find him? See if he is okay?”

“Can do, Grandma.”

She squeezed him tight a moment and, despite it all, he rolled his eyes. 

“Thank you, dear. Call me if you need me. I’ll check on Scott.” She knew in likelihood John had already located both of his brothers, the astronaut was ever vigilant

A small smile, a nod and he turned away towards the elevator. She watched him as he left. John was the quiet one, but he was one of the strongest of them all.

Scott. She sighed. Scott ran himself into the ground. He was like a steam engine, a juggernaut forcing himself through whatever resistance he encountered. Virgil could usually corral him, direct his anger, calm him down. Everything that made Scott the powerhouse of a leader he was, worked against him in situations such as these.

So busy helping everyone else, he forgot to help himself.

He was out running. A coping mechanism.

It wouldn’t be the first time she had had to run him down. Passing Jeff’s desk, she pulled up his location on a map of the Island. Really? All the way over there?

Well, she hadn’t run today. A little extra exercise shouldn’t hurt.

Throwing on a pair of shoes, she started out with a slow jog, and using age as an excuse, she took a short cut.

-o-o-o-

It was a relief to get out of the house and run, to not have to put on a face for everyone that expected nothing but smiles and smooth lines from him. Running allowed him to breathe, to simply exist without the burden of responsibility and little brothers looking to him for, well, everything. He loved his brothers, loved that they looked up to him as they did, even if he wasn’t always the best role model. After some rescues though, it just became too much to bear. There should have been someone else for them to look up to, older, wiser, more responsible people stood in his place with reassurance aplenty to dole out to younger brothers that needed it. 

Like the thought was a stab in the heart, he stumbled, catching himself on a branch as he fell forward. He heaved for breath, leaning heavily on the trunk of the tree for support. The day was finally catching up to him in more ways than one, another reminder that he couldn’t cope like he used to, that it had been so long since he had taken the reins.

Sinking down against the tree, he looked around, unsure when he had made it to the outcrop on the far side of the island. Autopilot must have taken over, it wasn’t one of his usual spots, once upon a time it had been, when he had needed to escape less often. Since Dad had vanished though, the curved line of trees sheltering the rocky patch had been too much of a reminder for him to handle. 

His head fell into his hands as he took a slow breath. He knew why he had ended up there, for the same single reason that always took him there those days; to be close to his parents. 

That was why he was running. That was why he had needed to get out. That was why he couldn’t face his family, not tonight.

Another avalanche, many years before with another helpless against its forces and no technology like the Thunderbirds to do anything about it. 

What if Brandon hadn’t remembered about Goose? They had no idea she was even there, just like when… he shook his head, clearing the thought. 

They’d found her. 

They’d got everyone out.

They’d all come home safe. 

Folding over his knees, he clutched at his hair. So why wasn’t it okay?

-o-o-o-

She took the run across the middle of the island. A jagged path cut solely for the purpose of access to the Island-wide monitoring system. The path was a little harsher than she was used to, the coastal run was much kinder, but it was necessary.

She finally hit the other side of the Island a little out of breath, landing in the centre of the gravel track with some relief. Sweat ran down her back and her heart was doing a great impression of Riverdance, but she was here. Eyeing the reef system below, she did a few mental calculations and turned to the right.

Giving her body a break, she walked off her pant, revelling in the thrum of the blood in her legs. It had been a while since she had pushed herself a little. It felt good.

Getting old seriously cramped her style. On occasion it was a fact she chose to ignore.

But Scott was along here somewhere, no doubt troubled after today’s little episode.

Her pace quickened.

Until just around the edge of a bluff she caught sight of him, crumpled under a tree.

Oh, Scotty.

-o-o-o-

Out of the corner of his eye he caught movement, drawing him to sit up. Taking a deep breath he forced a tight smile though deep down he knew it wouldn’t fool her. Grandma had known him his whole life and had been the one to bring up his father whom he so resembled. She gave him a moment, took a few steps towards him before she folded her arms and raised a suspicious eyebrow at him. When he had been a teen the look would have been completed with a cocked hip, but if she had hiked all the way up there, he knew her hip would be in no state to be forced into awkward stances. Still, he got the idea. 

Grandma knew. Grandma always knew. 

Not that that would stop him trying to play the whole thing off as nothing. 

“It’s a good day for a hike.” He smiled, voice catching as he looked up at her, “I don’t think you’ve been up here since…” Trailing off he frowned, unsure when Grandma had last been up here to what was, unofficially, Dad’s spot.

“The other week,” She filled in for him, “When we got the new footage from the zero-x.”

Of course, it made sense. They had lost a father that day, but Grandma had lost a son. He didn’t blame her if she ventured up here for the exact same reason he did. She had given up so much for them over the years, her traveling, then her life, then her home. The boys may have lost both parents, but it seemed to him that Grandma had lost so much more. 

-o-o-o-

She eyed him. Sometimes Scott forgot that with age came a certain perspective. Sally had earnt her grey hairs, every one of them. Scott had a few of his own, but he had a way to go yet.

“You know, I never questioned your father regarding his choice of a tropical island as a haven. Didn’t have to. I knew why. I think you do, too.” She paused for breath, her eyes still on  him. “From the moment they found your mother wrapped around Virgil in all that snow and ice...we’d all be happier if we never had to step foot on the stuff ever again.”

She didn’t mention her husband. She never mentioned her husband. Any more than Jeff mentioned his wife. There were some things that just…

Virgil was the survivor. The only one. The rest of them had to watch as so much had been taken away. Jeff...but he was not here. Scott...Scott ever the strong one, ever the leader. He had been so young.

A deep breath and she closed the steps between them, pulling up a piece of dirt beside her grandson. “Sometimes things just suck.”

-o-o-o-

Scott would have perhaps chosen some more colourful words than those his grandmother had used but the point was there and, as always, she was right. 

Things did suck. 

They sucked royally. 

“What did we do?” He sighed, bowing his head to look at the small mound of dirt his hand had been absentmindedly scraping together. 

“What did we do for all this to happen? For Mom and Grandpa, the Hood, and then Dad. Why us? Even before IR Dad just tried to help those he could and still we get all this shi--” He caught himself as Grandma turned a glare towards him. Denied the outburst, his fist came down on the mound of dirt, leaving him with no real satisfaction and still feeling too much. 

“It’s not fair!” He snapped, looking out to the sea, calm and quiet despite the anger he had bubbling below the surface, “Why is it always innocents? People that do nothing wrong that get caught up in… in...everything!” 

He swallowed, blinking hard against the wetness in his eyes. 

“Mom was innocent. Dad wasn’t perfect but he was innocent. Goose. Was. Innocent.”

-o-o-o-

She reached over and cupped his scuffed hand in hers. “There are no answers, Scotty, dear. I’m so sorry. Sometimes...sometimes the only thing you can hold on to is hope.” One hand held his fist, the other slipped up and around his shoulders. “God, fate, karma, whatever…” She sighed. “Fair just doesn’t come into play.” She hugged him close. “You know this. We live this.”  A stubborn exhale. “All we can do is get through it.” She eyed him just a little. “And if that means occasionally falling in a heap, so be it.”

Barely whispered. “That’s what family is for. To pick up the pieces.”

Scott rarely cried. She worried for him. Fretted at times, actually. The male stigma against emotion was the bane of the gender and their continued mental health. The four younger boys all had their moments. Privately, hidden, but they mostly let it out when forced to.

But Scott, tough, led by example Scott Tracy...

No.

Not even if he needed it.

She slipped her hand into his hair, ignoring his frown and flinch at her fingering his coiffure, and drew his head down to her shoulder. “Love you, Scotty.”

-o-o-o-

He knew resistance was futile, but letting go wasn’t quite so straight forward. Part of him wished it was, that would have meant he could have gotten it out of his system on his return flight and carried on as normal once he landed home. 

Resting his head against his grandmother’s shoulder, he felt a little bit more of the wall crumble. If he closed his eyes he could pretend he was a kid again, missing his mom and wanting things to go back to how they had been before Dad had started to spend all his time away. Things were simpler then, he had chosen to bear the cross of responsibility when he could have easily left it to the real adults at the time. 

Except, this time, he was the real adult. He was the one expected to keep his cool and act like nothing in the world got to him. Just like Dad had. 

Grandma was right though, how many pieces had there been to pick up when Dad had eventually broken? Scott hadn’t been there to see most of it, Grandma had made sure of that… but was that what she meant by letting family pick up the pieces? Was she hinting that he was on the same path of self destruction that Dad had been?

He couldn’t help missing Mom. He missed Dad too, but that was something he grieved much more often. Even though the hurt for their mother was rare, when it came it hit hard and left him gasping for air. 

“Alan almost went under today,” He whispered, unsure why he was saying it. Grandma had been there at the end of the comms, had seen everything and knew what had almost happened. 

His nose was running, making him sniff and frown at the ground, “If anything happened to him, to any of them like it did Mom… I couldn’t…” The words were gone, stolen from him by a sob that had wrapped around his throat and choked him. 

-o-o-o-

“Oh, Scotty.” It came out little more than a whisper. Her arms tightened around him, pulling him that touch closer. 

He was so much bigger than she. She could remember a time where she held her first grandchild in her arms. A wriggly little ball of energy. The thought brought a smile to her face, but equally the thought of what that happy little boy had since faced in his life… “They’re safe. They’re safe. They were saved. You saved them. It worked.” And it did. All of Jeff’s dreams all his reasons for creating International Rescue, even if they never saved another soul, saving those lives from that avalanche, that is what the aim had been.

So another mother would not be taken from her children. Nor a father, brother, sister, daughter, son or anyone.

“There was no tragedy today.”

“But-” He tried to interrupt only to be shushed again by a tight squeeze.

“There wasn’t Scott, stop thinking of what ifs.”

-o-o-o-

‘What ifs’ were perhaps his worst enemy, they would go around in his head night after night constantly nagging if he could have done something different or something better. Yet somehow, his grandmother had managed to silence those what ifs in a single sentence. She was right, nothing had happened, the day was a success. 

“I just wish Mom…” He trailed off shaking his head. It was too painful to think of all of the things that might have been.

And that was the route of it all, what if someone could have saved Mom. It wasn’t so much that he missed her, even though he did, it was the what if. It was the reason he and Virgil had gone their separate ways after the rescue, both with their own what ifs and old self blame. Time and age had brought them both to know better but such rescues would always throw them each for a loop until they rebalanced again. 

-o-o-o-

Sally held her breath, hesitant. “What if it was meant to be?” Quiet, a little hoarse. “What if we lost so much so others could be saved?” She swallowed. “What if our sacrifices mean others don’t. What if your mother is the reason why so many survived?” It was a thought that had both comforted her and cursed her over the years. Whether Scott had considered it...she wasn’t sure. This family just didn’t talk about Lucille.

It hurt too much.

Perhaps that should change.

“Your mother loved tea cosies.”

“What?” Blue eyes looked up at her.

“Tea cosies. She was a tea drinker. Scorned coffee like it was the plague. She knitted all these odd tea cosies.” Sally half smiled. “You father never understood that one, but being the man he was...well, he loved her for it anyway.” A snort. “So many tea cosies.”

She fingered her grandson’s hair again. “She hated chilli or anything too spicy. Wouldn’t go near it. Yet she loved Chinese food. She loved the cold, hated the heat. Her favourite dress had pink flamingoes dancing around the hem. She sang in the shower. Virgil gets his voice from her, if perhaps not, his love of coffee - that is pure Jeff.” Her smile was wider now. “You have her hair.” Her fingers stroked brunet strands. “Although Virgil has inherited so much from Lucille, each of you have a part of her. You have her hair and her smile, Scott.” Her smile sobered a little. “We may have lost her, but honestly, she lives on in you boys. I see her every day.”

Her finger left his hair and brushed against his cheek.

“And she would be so proud of you all.”

-o-o-o-

He knew what Mom had been like, though the details had been foggy and unclear in his mind until Grandma had wiped the picture clear for him. It was true, both of their parents would have been proud of them. He knew no matter where each of his brothers may have ended up, Mom and Dad would have been proud. 

Grandma was right though, even though it tore him in two to admit it, Mom had to die. If she hadn’t, he knew he would not where he was now, having done what he had today. It was to Mom that so many owed their lives, not just down to the TI Snow Bubble that most avalanche prone areas had eventually made mandatory, but to the conception and birth of the Thunderbirds. That something so amazing had been formed from such tragedy and turned into something so successful by the very children who had been left motherless, Scott knew that would make his parents beyond proud. 

A heavy sigh left him, lifting some of the weight from his shoulders as it went. Closing his eyes, he tilted his head back against the tree, “Can you tell me more about her?”

-o-o-o-

“Her favourite colour was green.” She snorted. “As if Virgil would ever let us forget.” A breath. “She was a great cook, she hated housework, but liked a clean house. With five of you running around, she nearly went batty. Why five? I never understood...then...now…” Her head dipped. “I have always been thankful for every one of you, but never so much after losing your parents and my...Grant.” A swallow. She never said his name. His memory was something she clung to, but his name...it was like a talisman. “Your mother was an artist. She created music, paintings and you. You were everything to her.”

“We have each other, their legacy and the means to stop it from happening to as many people as we can.” Another pause as the words caught in her throat. “Never forget that, Scotty. You do good. So, so much good.”

He shifted against her. She reached down and caught his hand. A glance of blue and she smiled just a little.

The waves below were a slow watery heartbeat.

“There was no tragedy today and it was thanks to your mother, your father, your brothers and you.”

She squeezed his hand, desperate to make him believe, to reassure him, to release him from his grief.

A rock pigeon flew up the cliff and barrelled into the tree above them, rustling about and cooing. Sally jumped, startled out of her thoughts. Beside her, Scott tensed as if battle ready.

A sigh. “C’mon, Scotty, you gonna help an old woman to her feet.”

An eye and an arched eyebrow. “Sure. Show me one and I’ll give her a hand. Would you like one, too?”

“Nice comeback.”

A snort. 

“You can give me a hand anyway. I think my joints have frozen in place.”

He shot to his feet obscenely fast. She flung him a glare as he offered his hands. Getting old was a pain in the everything. Several creaks and groans and she was ambulatory. She took a couple of steps to loosen things up. “See you back at the ranch?” She eyed him.

He hesitated, she could see it in his face. Just as she saw it replaced by resolution. “Actually, Grandma, can I walk with you?”

She smiled and held out a hand. “C’mere, Scotty. Let’s go home.”

And if she happened to mention some long lost facts along the way...well, Jeff and Lucy...and Grant...had left her to look after these wonderful boys, and that’s what she planned to do.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

[danielcooperrp]

The Atlantic Theater

From his shoebox office deep in the bowels of the USS Rogers, Lt. Com. Daniel Cooper can hear the faint echoes of the cacophony that is New York Harbor. The ship’s been docked and the sailors spilled onto the shore like a tipped can of coffee beans for hours, but here he sits, hunched over his tiny metal desk, scribbling onto a pile of forms. Patient responded well to placebo trial. Average results of physical. Psychological tests suggest less than promising results. At this time, not recommended for project. With a sigh, he scratches a signature at the bottom and adds this manila folder to the towering stack to his left.

There’s a sharp rap on the door. “Come in!” He opens the next folder. Petty Officer 3rd Class Ronald Hedge. Occupation: Gunnery Instructor.

The door doesn’t open all the way; it can’t make it past the files along the wall. A head pokes in. “Lieutenant Commander—”

Daniel sighs and smiles up at his assistant, a man only a few years his junior with sandy blond hair and a plethora of freckles. “Ensign, I promise, I will come ashore as soon as I’m done. Only...” He eyes the dwindling stack of personnel files to his right. “...forty more sailors to go.”

“Oh, no, sir. There’s someone here to see you.”

Someone to see him? On the ship? In New York? His only family is the city is his grandmother, and he promise her in his last letter than he would come visit her as soon as he could. He highly doubts she would have made it all the way down the belly of a destroyer. 

He shrugs, and then waves whoever it is in. Ensign Bustard’s head disappears, and someone else slips into his office. He starts to look back down at his work, but then does a double-take—oh.

She’s slight, and not very tall, about his height in her pumps, were he standing. She wears a neat suit, matching navy jacket and skirt, with a festive red tie over her clean white shirt. She holds a leather briefcase by her side and her shoulders back, giving her quite the air of authority.

She’s stunning. 

She isn’t wearing a hat, so he can see the perfect coif of her soft brown hair. Her bright red lips—a statement, to be sure—are quirked into something resembling a smile. She sticks her hand out toward him. “Agent Allison Bradley of the Strategic Science Reserve.”

He stares at her for a moment, gobsmacked, before he remembers his manners. He jerks to his feet, leaning forward to shake her hand—”Lieutenant Commander Daniel Cooper, ma’am.”—and suddenly he realizes just how small his office is. “I—wasn’t expecting—would you like a seat?” He gestures helplessly toward his own chair, even though there’s no way they would be able to jostle around so that she could sit in it.

Seemingly less flustered than he, she smiles politely and says, “No thank you, Lieutenant Commander.”

“Call me Daniel.” He says it before he can stop himself. “Please.”

Her cheeks color slightly. “Very well. You may call me Ally.”

“Ally.” He tongue savors the word. 

“I’m here to discuss the Gemini Project.”

All the wind leaves his sails. Of course. Why else would an agent of the SSR be here? “Ah. Yes.” His eyes fall on his stacks of rejected hopefuls, and hers follow suit. “I regret to inform you that as of yet, I have not found a suitable replacement for Captain Rogers.”

For the first time, her cool demeanor cracks, and she gives a little disappointed frown. “None?”

“No, ma’am.” He scrambles through the piles of papers on his desk. “It’s not that we don’t have good sailors aboard this ship, of course, because we do—strong and healthy and devoted to their country—ah, here it is.” He skims the list of requirements for the Gemini Project. “Unfortunately, I have not encountered a sailor as...well-suited for the project. Not like he was.” 

Maybe it’s just because he’s been trapped inside a tin can with a few thousand men for the past eight months, but Agent Bradley smells incredible. He shakes his head to clear it, as she has started talking again. “Well, I suppose it’s to be expected. Finding a soldier, sailor, or pilot as...suitable as Captain Rogers...we all knew it would be a long shot.” She cocks her head to the side and looks at him through narrowed eyes. “What about you, Lieutenant Commander?”

“Daniel,” he reminds her, and then he realizes what she’s said, and he lets out a a laugh. “What about me?”

She shrugs. “Is your folder in either of those stacks?”

“I—no. Of course it’s not. I mean, look at me.” He’s not so devoid of vanity as to deny that he cuts a respectable figure in his dress whites, but a thoroughbred American hero he is not. “I am a man of science, Agent Bradley, not a fighter or a figurehead.”

“Ally.” She takes a step forward, as tiny as the space allows. “No one would have looked twice at Steve Rogers before the serum. And you are certainly nowhere near the sickly young man that he was.” She looks him in the eyes. “Are you devoted to your country, Daniel?”

He knows the right answer. He knows that he swore an oath when he signed up in that recruiter’s office back in Boston. He knows that every minute he’s in this uniform is an opportunity to die for this country. 

But he also knows about what’s happening in Germany, in Poland, in Austria. He knows about the boats fleeing to these very shores, filled with people like him, like his father, desperate for safety in the face of persecution. He knows that those boats have been rejected, sent back from whence they came. He doesn’t know what became of those terrified Jews. He doesn’t know how to ask. 

“I will do whatever it takes to help the Allied powers defeat the Third Reich” is his answer, and he hopes it’s enough. 

She nods, like she heard the things he didn’t say. She’s looking at him as if she can see into his very soul, and it making him weak in the knees. With a sigh, she says, “Well, thank you for your time, Lieu—Daniel. I wish you better luck in this project.” 

“Thank you, ma’am.” He shakes her hand again, and this time something electric passes between them. He drops her hand, heart inexplicably racing, and cracks open the door for her as far as it can go. Ensign Bustard is waiting just down the hallway to help lead her back to the top deck. As she steps through the portal, he blurts out, “Will you have dinner with me?”

She looks back at him, stunned. He could slap himself, but it’s too late to take it back now. “I have to stop and visit my grandmother as soon as I go ashore, but if—if you aren’t busy tonight...”

Her red lips curl up in a heart-stopping smile. “Gargiulo’s,” she says, cheeks reddening again. “Eight o’clock. Don’t be late, sailor.”

“Yes ma’am.” He watches her walk down the corridor to Ensign Bustard, who motions for her to proceed toward the stairs. Before she disappears around the corner, she turns back to give him a small wave, and he knows for certain that he’s a goner. 

[swiftlythebest]

Can you pleeeeeeease write something soft about maybe the morning before 15x10 that could tie into Levi’s mood and confidence

This is a bit of an overall episode reaction, but I really like the idea of the morning being significant. I hope this is soft enough; I’m a sucker for soft Nico so I loved writing that.   I put a bunch of it under a cut because… I did. *shrug* I hope you enjoy! 

Levi Schmitt did not wake up to his alarm, but rather to light kisses being pressed to the side of his neck. He smiled lazily to himself, eyes still closed, and hummed a soft sound of happiness. He raised a hand to clutch onto Nico Kim’s hair and let him know he greatly appreciated what was happening.

“Mmm, good morning, handsome.” Nico whispered in Levi’s ear, sending shivers down his spine. He tightened his arm around the other man’s waist and pulled him closer to his chest.

Levi opened his eyes and awkwardly turned in the embrace to face Nico. “That was so much better than my alarm. Waking up here is far superior to waking up at home.”

Nico gave a soft smile. “Falling asleep with you isn’t too bad either. And what we did before that was… wow.”

Levi blushed. “Yeah, that was… yeah.”

Nico placed a finger under Levi’s chin to tilt his face up so their eyes could meet. “You’re incredible. Honestly, the best sex I’ve ever had.”

Levi scoffed. “Yeah, okay.”

“I’m serious. You’re so good at everything you do. An amazing doctor, an amazing lover, an amazing person.” He punctuated each compliment with a kiss.

Levi smiled. “I wish we were still working together. Intern rotation sucks.”

“Hey, trauma’s great. You love trauma! And Hunt’s an excellent teacher. He’s clinical and composed and smart. You’re a lot alike.”

“What, no we’re not! I’m clumsy and awkward.” Levi exclaimed, shocked.

Nico shrugged. “Maybe. But you’re still all of those good things too.” Nico looked at his watch. “C’mon, we gotta get up and get ready.”

Levi groaned, stretched, and wiggled out of Nico’s embrace to get up and get ready for a long shift at the hospital.

As Nico and Levi were eating a quick breakfast, Nico, unprompted, spoke up, “You know, Link told me he thinks you’re one of the strongest interns he’s worked with. He said you caught on super quickly and always understood what to do and where you were needed. And he told me this without even knowing how I feel about you. We were just discussing work and he started singing your praises.”

“He’s the only one who seems to feel that way.” Levi responded, not even looking up.

“No, Jo was there too and she agreed. She said you’re always eager to work and really want to learn. And she was your head resident, so she would know.” Nico added.

Levi flushed and looked up. “Oh. I… oh. That’s really nice of them. I… that’s really nice.”

Nico gave a large smile and took a sip of his coffee. “Just the truth, babe. Just the truth.”

After viewing Claire’s CT scan, the three doctors taking care of her - Hunt, Deluca, and Levi - rushed to the OR in order to ensure they were able to operate before her bowel burst. In their haste, Levi almost didn’t notice Nico walking by in the opposite direction. He skidded to a stop right in front of Nico, a frantic look on his face.

“I’m off to the OR. Hi. I need to go. But hi.”

Nico smirked and gave a small laugh. “Hi.”

“Schmitt, let’s go!” Hunt yelled from the end of the hall.

“Go. You’re gonna do so awesome and impress everyone in that OR. I’ll see you later.” Nico gave Levi’s hand a small squeeze before gesturing for him to follow Hunt.

Bolstered by the words of encouragement, Levi continued his journey to the OR and prepared himself to be an asset during this surgery.

Hours later, after saving Hunt’s life, asserting himself as Dr. Schmitt, and gushing to Nico in an on-call room, Levi snuggled closer to Nico on the small bed in that same on-call room.

“Did I tell you Dr. Altman started her sentence to me with ‘respectfully?’ To me! She saw my authority in that situation and wanted to let me know she respected it!” Levi exclaimed, sifting one hand through Nico’s mussed hair.

“You were in charge. And she saw that. She was probably grateful to you for saving Dr. Hunt. You earned that ‘respectfully.’” Nico lazily stroked a hand up Levi’s back.

“I’m a doctor. I’m a real doctor. I can save lives and I can do it confidently. And then I can go tell my super hot boyfriend about it afterwards. This is a spectacular day!” Levi beamed up at Nico.

Nico leaned down to give Levi a small kiss. “Well, Dr. Schmitt, I think we need to get back to work. I have some paperwork to finish up and I’m sure the ER needs as many hands as possible. And you’ve got two strong, capable surgeon hands.”

Levi sat up, offering a hand to help Nico up. They straightened out their scrubs and patted down their hair before making their way out of the on-call room, both laughing when they realized they had forgotten to lock the door.

[thejackal64]

Pillars of Magic: Paradox | Chapter 2: Anomaly

It was a beautiful day in Mewni. As long as the flow of magic continued uninterrupted, every morning would remain the same. It might seem boring, but the people living there expected such perks. It wasn’t only about having money or possessions. It was also about life itself being marinated in luxury.

“Ugh!”

But while citizens of Mewni enjoyed being pampered by it, certain individuals who were just going through were appalled.

“There really wasn’t any other way to reach it?” The man asking the question was rather short, with a full beard covering his face. He had a peculiar expression, telling everyone around him that he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown and anything could set him off...

“It’s pretty in here.”

...or anyone.

“Can we buy some candies?”

Despite the rather odd request, the new question was asked by a massive man, always cheerful and smiling. His name was Kobi.

“Oh yeah, sure. And then I’ll shove them down your throat so I don't have to listen to your stupid questions!”

“Can it, you two.”

With a strong and authoritative voice, and without the need to raise it, the third man, Lucan, was keen to keep their presence under the radar.

“We are in public and even though these people generally mind their own business, we do not need to risk attracting their attention.”

"Then why in the hell did you bring this bastard along?"

“Because no one else can work with him. Furthemore, this mission might require brute force.”

Kasper didn’t like Lucan’s answer. “We could've taken a couple of explosives instead of this blubbering oaf."

“Do I really need to remind you that we are on a covert mission? We are to retrieve the object and return to the base without causing a commotion.”

“According to your doo-hickey, that thing is deep within the old tunnels of this place. How the hell would they know about us being down there?”

“It’s an unnecessary risk that needs to be avoided to the best of our ability. We do not know how far the secret police’s reach goes and we might end up finding ourselves in a dire situation. And down there no one would come to our rescue.”

“I hate when you’re right.”

“I expected nothing else.”

Lucan was going over the data in his head again and again, trying to make sure he would be ready to predict any and all possible problems along the way. But, as history had taught him, no amount of pre-planning could circumvent the consequences of working with his two colleagues: one a violent hothead and the other a behemoth with a child-like attitude. All he could do was to prepare his best with the limited knowledge he had at his disposal.

Anywhere else, their blue jumpsuits would raise at least a few eyebrows. Not here. The queen and authorities made sure that Mewmans were involved so deeply in their cushy lives that they were all but blinded by their hearts desires. Three dudes dressed like plumbers were absolutely none of their concern.

The three followed the steady flow of students into Paragon Academy. Thankfully, the main entrance wasn’t their goal, so a few meters before reaching it they turned right and crept along the side alley toward the back. Even just this little piece of Mewni that they saw before them was sparkling clean; it was truly a sight to behold, and the side alleys weren’t any different. To someone living in dirt, this scenery was utterly bizarre. Pieces of banners were floating above their heads as they reached their destination. They were mesmerizing to look at, something Kobi enjoyed to the fullest.

His sight-seeing was cut short as a mere minutes later they appeared in the school's backyard. The back door entrance they were looking for was a solid block of steel without any handles or windows, and it wasn’t exactly clean. Lucan hit it in a specific pattern: thug-thug-scratch-thug-scratch-pause-thug. For a while nothing was happening, but soon enough they heard the screeching sound of doors trying to be opened from the inside.

“Looks like our intelligence department was right,” noted Lucan silently.

“I’ll congratulate them for not fucking up their job like last time when we go back,” replied Kasper.

Lucan nodded in agreement.

Every place in the world had a certain reputation. When people visited them, they expected their lives to be enriched with unique, local experiences. Very few visitors were coming to Mewni, but they were expecting riches and comfort beyond their wildest dreams, not a fat greasy face looking at them with glass eyes.

“Yeaaahhh? *blurp*”

Of course, for someone living in the swamps, such sights were living standards for them.

Lucan brought up a piece of paper. “As requested by the school board, we are here to clean up the toilets.”

The man standing in front of them gave them an empty look. “Yeah? You have - ugh - any papers?”

Lucan was caught surprised. “There wasn’t a mention about papers.”

“Yeah, see, that is a problem, because-” He obviously had a hard time not only standing on his feet, but also collecting his thoughts. “I… uh, still need to see papers.”

“They didn’t say anything about papers. We were told this was already settled.”

“That’s your problem, bud.”

Diplomacy was always Lucan’s first choice when dealing with people, but if that failed, Kasper used his own methods. He pushed Lucan aside and raised his head to make sure the dude standing over him would understand him very clearly. “Listen here, you fat fuck! The higher ups decided we had to come here to clean up your shit. We are more than happy to start with the biggest shit standing right in front of my face. Or you can move your dick aside and let us in to do our job!”

The man was shocked by his reaction. “Whoa there, now listen up, you can’t talk to me like that!” His voice would certainly have sounded more threatening, if it wasn’t for the high level of alcohol in his blood.

“Oh no? Then let me introduce you to my friend over here.” He stepped aside so that the guard could see Kobi standing behind him. “His name is ‘I’m gonna break your limbs’.”

“Hello!” Kobi waved his hand.

“I don’t-” Some understanding was seeping into his alcohol marinated brain, but it wasn’t enough.

“Kobi, why don’t you shake his hand?”

“I’ll be happy to!”

“Show him how friendly we are.”

“Oki doke!”

Kobi’s face was constantly smiling at him, but there was something behind that smile that alarmed the guy, like a much needed wake up call, if only for a few seconds.

“Alright, alright! I- I’ll let you in! Just- Go… *blurp* do your job.”

“A wise decision.”

Lucan never liked Kasper’s aggressive attitude, but he couldn’t dismiss its efficacy in situations like this. He smiled at the guard, trying to ease the tension a bit. “Thank you for your cooperation, sir.”

“Just… Get out of my sight.”

With subtle disappointment in his eyes, he took his comrades into the bowels of the school’s ground floor.

The interior wasn’t that much different from what they were used to down in the suburbs, but there were some notable differences. The biggest one was in the generator room they were passing through. Since everything ran on magic, many magical creatures were used as conduits for the magical flow. In here they utilized fire-flies: flies that actually generated fire and heat. But since they only did that when provoked, Mewmen engineers pioneered a solution to force them to keep releasing the energy they need. The process involved what were known as Adium Crystals. These crystals were tiny, sharp and spiky shards that could easily be found laying around near the outskirts of the city. It seemed to exist as a byproduct of several magical wars. Any magical properties were harmless to Mewmens, being only a small walking hazard if stepped on, but forcing Fireflies to go nuts. So they threw a few of them into a generator together with a swarm and let them explode with anxiety until they died.

It wasn’t a pleasant view for any of them, but their goal wasn’t to enforce their opinions about the environment. They needed, and quickly, to find entry to what they expected to be an ancient tunnel running somewhere under the school. With this in their minds they calmly left the ground floor and, using steep stairs, they approached the floor above.

The school was full of students getting ready for the day, but they didn’t think it would be so… sterile. Regular schools were unremarkable in design to keep distractions to a minimum, but the ones in Mewni took that a step further. There were steady pure white lights illuminating dark purple walls, floor and roof, reaching to every corner. The doors were a plain dark wood with no windows. There were no pictures, no flyers, nothing that would catch the eye and get in the way.

“Fucking hell,” noted Kasper silently.

“I have to agree,” responded Lucan. “I can’t even find the proper words to describe it.”

“Did someone die here?” asked Kobi. His question caught them both by surprise.

“They may as well have. The sooner we find that entry point the better. I shudder to think how those poor kids must feel after spending several hours in here almost every day.”

Kasper was visibly repulsed by this remark. “These kids - as you call them - wouldn’t hesitate to smash our skulls into the nearest wall if they learned we’re from the Resistance.”

Lucan pondered the thought for a few seconds. “Indoctrination.”

“Yeah. Let’s go now.”

But before they could move on, one of the students dropped her notebook at Kobi’s feet.

“Excuse me,” said the girl.

And in that very moment Kobi felt a sensation like never before. The same was true for Kasper as well, although for a different reason.

He slowly turned to Lucan, trying not to raise any suspicion. "Of all the people, we stumbled upon a Woolett. A fucking Woolett!" he muttered toward his partner.

"Keep your cool and we'll be fine."

She bent down slightly to pick up her notebook which she’d dropped. Kobi was quick to snap it up before she could. It was ridiculous how fast he moved to make sure his huge hand reached it before her more slender one.

“Uhm, you dropped?” he questioned, despite the obvious answer.

“Yes, thank you.”

Kasper's desire to end this encounter as soon as possible was palpable. Unfortunately for him, so was Kobi's desire to prolong it. He was demonstrating this by refusing to return her notebook.

“Sorry,” he said, his cheeks flushing red. “Your book?”

“Yes, may I have it now, please?”

“The book… uhm, yes, it’s yours!” He stumbled on his own tongue.

“Yo, Kell, this dude don’t seem right,” said the voice coming out of her hair.

"Shit! There is another Woolett in her hair! Is she breeding them?!" Kasper barked beneath his breath.

"Lower your voice! She will hear you."

Her polite smile became increasingly more nervous, as she tried to pull the book harder from his grasp.

He finally loosened his grip and allowed the book to be taken back.

“I’m sorry,” he said, wiping his brow and trying to find some kind of words to fill the moment that was making his heart race. “Kobi.” He extended his hand her way.

The girl chuckled loosely and took his hand to shake.

“Kelly. And hey, thanks for picking it up. Sorry I bumped into you.”

“No trouble,” he smiled. “I like Kelly. I-I mean!” he bungled over his words again while trying rapidly to recover, scratching his head. “I like to meet you. T-that is-I mean, good to see your p-pretty face. Uh-I-uh!”

Kasper was growing angry, but he couldn’t risk making a scene. “Lucan,” he whispered, “do something before he blows our cover!”

“Right.” Lucan stepped in. “We don’t mean to be any trouble, he means to say, miss. Sorry we got in your way.”

Kelly shrugged her shoulders and slipped the notebook over her shoulder and into her backpack. “Not a problem,” she said as she finally saw her exit and headed away towards the cafeteria.

With the students on their way, Lucan tapped his elbow. “Let’s go, Kobi. We don’t have time to linger.”

They went in another direction. The expression on Kobi’s face was as if someone had stolen away his happiness. But Kasper wasn’t so tactful.

“The hell you doing?!” he cussed in the loudest whisper he could muster.

Trying not to risk a racket, they quickly went on, turning behind the corner to hide from the eyes of the students. The hall looked pretty much the same as the previous one, but it was less cramped.

“She was so pretty,” noted Kobi with sadness in his voice.

“Ain’t nothing pretty about the things I’ll do to you if you pull shit like that again!”

“Guys stop! Listen!” They all could hear a faint beeping coming from Lucan’s backpack. “It’s here.”

“What?” asked Kasper. “The artifact?”

“No! That would be ridiculous. It’s the entrance.”

“Your thingy is showing the way?”

“Of course not. Nothing can do that. My tool is… Er - the magic. With such a low intensity in Mewni, it tends to behave like a river and my tool simply points the way to the strongest nearby current.”

“Uhm. So where is it?”

“Let me check.” Lucan looked around to make sure that no one would spot him. The hallway was even more empty than before. “Huh. Interesting. I wonder where they-”

“Dude!”

“Righ, right.” He placed his backpack down on the ground and reached into it. After rustling through it for a few seconds he brought out a somewhat bulky piece of equipment. “So I was right. According to this, there is one magical current flowing through these halls. It’s quite interesting if you think of it.”

“I don’t give a fuck about how ‘fascinating’ or whatever it is! Just point us to it so we can get the hell out of here.”

“Checking.”

He kept turning around until the device made the strongest sound when pointing to a specific direction. “It appears that it is coming from there. From… the cafeteria, it seems. Hmm. This might be challenging. They might have some questions about our presence going in there.”

“I have an even better question for you: where the hell is Kobi?!”

They were both looking around. Spotting a huge man among young teenagers should have been easy, but their efforts were fruitless. Kobi was simply gone.

Kobi was smiling. He had every reason to. It didn’t happen every day he met a girl that took his breath away. Or any girl for that matter. To be fair, he could be rather easily amazed by a lot of stuff, people included. But this was different. Because she was different. And he felt that in every bone.

He went back to the spot where he met her, being sure she would still be there. He was determined to give her a present he was holding in his hands. He approached the place, completely ignoring all other students. In everyday business they were ignoring everything that didn’t concern them, just like every other Mewman; but seeing a funny looking dude in a jumpsuit just standing there with an idiotic smile did get their attention. Some of them even stopped walking and just kept watching him, wondering what he would do.

Kobi was so sure that Kelly would come back that he didn’t doubt himself even for a second. He was friendly, smiling wide because he had a pretty present for her. In his mind he did everything to make her want to stay with him. Alas, their reunion was not meant to be, which he started to painfully realize after his hands started to cramp. Reality crept into his mind, forcing him to reevaluate his short term plans.

With apparent sadness in his eyes, he decided to leave the package on the ground. Even though she didn’t come back to him he still hoped that she might like the present he’d picked for her. However flawed this logic was to everyone else around him, it made perfect sense to him, so he left it exactly where he had laid sight on her for the first time, and with great disappointment decided to return to his fellow agents.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” asked Kasper.

“I’m afraid so. We must hurry before he runs into her a-”

Just as he was about to finish his sentence, Kobi appeared from behind the corner.

Kasper was thrilled to see him. “Where the fuck you have been?!”

“I wanted to give Kelly a present, but I couldn’t find her, so I left it on the floor for her to find it when she comes back.”

“We didn’t come here to find you a date, you shitstain!”

“Wait,” Lucan stopped him. “Kobi, what kind of present did you have to give her?”

“Oh. I found a really good looking box in your backpack.”

“A bo-” When his eyes met with Kasper’s, he knew they were in deep trouble. “The Black Box!”

Kasper didn’t waste a second and hard slapped Kobi. “That was a weapon of mass destruction, you fucking retard! FOR EMERGENCIES ONLY!!!”

“But it looked so nice!”

“I’ll rip off your dick off and beat you with it!”

“Hurry! Maybe there is still time before someone ope-”

BOOOoooooom

A massive shock wave passed through building. The sound cut out and lights went off abruptly. Aside from a few sounds of crumbling rocks and the voices of shocked students, nothing else transpired after the explosion.

Lucan brought out his flashlight and shined it down the hallway. “Interesting.”

“Do you think it didn’t get out?” asked Kasper.

“In theory the inner casing could withstand the blast, but it is very unlikely. The weapon engineers were perfectionists and always made sure their creations would work.”

“So then where is all the yelling and panic?”

There were brief squeals and scramblings from students here and there, down the the distant corridors and rooms, as if panic would abruptly set in only to suddenly die away again. The space between the horrified sounds lengthened until everything went quiet for a fairly long while in the dark. The minutes stretched on, the trio scanning the darkness for signs of movement.

Kobi wrung his hands worriedly as Kasper gritted his teeth, looking to Lucan for direction.

Lucan held up a finger the other two could barely see. “Shh!”

They could hear a person sneaking out of the cafeteria. “C’mon, Kelly, let’s go this way.”

“Kelly…” gasped Kobi.

“Stay where you are!” Kasper commanded.

Lucan picked up his backpack. “We need to get out of here immediately.”

“Wise words,” agreed Kasper.

“But what about all those students in here?” asked Kobi with sadness in his voice.

“They’re doomed,” replied Lucan.

“B-But Kelly…”

Kasper gave him a pat on his shoulder. “That’s just your everyday’s shit. Now move your ass!”

AAaaaaaaaaAAA!!!!

The yelling forced all remaining students in the cafeteria to run away, leaving it completely empty.

“The timing is impeccable. Great work, dude!”

“Kasper, stop teasing him. He is sad as it is.”

“He should be! His stupidity caused all of this!”

“And we will deal with it after we return to HQ, but right now we need him focused on the mission. Kobi? Follow us.”

Without any enthusiasm he followed his teammates into the now empty room. The smell of coffee and various other drinks were still hanging in the air. It was as if the students had never really left the place. The scents combined with all of the screaming and echoed noises, creating a haunting atmosphere.

Lucan lead them into the kitchen in the back. Many things were still being cooked and some were even starting to get burned. But culinary secrets weren’t what they were after.

“Where is it?” asked Kasper.

“Near.”

“Is that supposed to help?”

“You have to realize that tracking down and following magical currents is a delicate work. This isn’t a river you can simply follow upstream to find the spring.”

“Huh. That’s a good point. But I feel compelled to note that we are in a building THAT IS BEING EATEN!”

“I suggest you lower your voice unless you want that thing to follow us here.”

“Just find the fucking entrance!”

“I told you it’s- there!” Lucan suddenly pointed at a massive rack filled with food and spices.

“It’s in… a black pepper jar?” Kapser smiled.

“Underneath the rack, obviously.”

“Yeah, obviously. Kobi, make yourself useful and get rid of it.”

Big fellow was still sad, but he didn’t wish to enrage Kasper even more, so he just did what was asked of him. Unfortunately his enthusiasm got the best of him, and with a flair of his own he threw it to the other side of the kitchen.

Kasper realized the mistake he made. “Well, if those things didn’t hear us before, they surely heard us this time.”

“Kasper…!” Seeing Lucan even subtly angry was rare and unpleasant enough even for Kasper.

“Alright, I fucked up, I’m sorry. But look! There is the entrance and it’s…” He was staring at it for a few seconds, trying to figure out if this was the punishment for his screw up. “Holy shit it’s small! I don’t think Kobi will even fit.”

The big fella didn’t like the prospect of being left behind. “What???”

“He’ll fit. Barely, but he’ll get through.” While ensuring Kobi of his survival, something got his attention. It was small, placed just above the entrance. A marker of some kind. “Hmm.”

Kasper noticed his interest in the object. “What is it?”

“Not sure.” While trying to inspect the item with intriguing markings, a fast-paced movement was heard coming from outside the cafeteria. And it was approaching. “That’s our cue. Move on.”

“But…”

“What is it this time, Kobi?”

“It stinks in there!”

Lucan looked over the hole to check its bottom. “Huh. It appears the kitchen staff discovered it and kept using it as a trash bin for spoiled food. Regardless, this is the path we need to take.”

“But I don’t wanna!”

Right on cue, Kasper stepped in. “KOBI, GET YOUR FUCKING ASS IN THERE OR I’LL RIP OFF BOTH OF YOUR LEGS AND SHOVE THEM UP INTO YOUR ASSHOLE!!!”

“Grrr!”

With complications, Kobi managed to get through and landed directly onto the pile of stinky old food.

“Eww!”

“You’ll live. Now, catch Kasper and then me. And hurry; whatever is following is getting close.”

They both promptly jumped into the hole, leaving the mess they caused behind them.

After a short while of slow walking in squats, they entered a bigger tunnel. To their amazement, it was still lit. Dusty, but otherwise undamaged.

“An access tunnel,” noted Lucan.

“Huh?” wondered Kasper.

“What we left behind has to be an access tunnel, which would make this one here a maintenance tunnel.”

“So you know where we are?”

“No. I’m just assuming.”

“Based on what exactly?”

“Educated guess.”

“And this helps us… how?”

“That remains to be seen.”

“Terrific.”

“It was worth mentioning because this kind of architecture was used only rarely, at least in lower Mewni. I only know about such structures existing over there, but still… this appears to be in an astonishingly well-preserved state.”

“That’s fascinating and all, but we didn’t come here for sightseeing. Left or right?”

“Indeed. Let’s see… Hmm, now this is interesting.”

“Enough of this bullshit! Just tell us where to go!”

“Right. The flow comes from the right.”

“Finally! Let’s move our asses before that thing decides to fuck ‘em.”

“Right, of course.

Leaving the cafeteria behind, they pressed forward. With the sheer importance of the mission on their minds, they were eager to reach their destination swiftly. Unfortunately, their intentions were getting harder to reach, which was becoming more and more apparent with every meter they traversed through the tunnel. It snaked left and right, stretching and bending without an apparent end in sight.

“Argh!” growled Kasper. “This tunnel goes on forever!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” objected Lucan, who, for lack of a better word, was enjoying the scenery, or lack thereof. “I’m confident that we will reach the end in no time.”

Kasper hated many people and many things, and reassuring pep talks were at the top of the list. Hearing his artificially soothing voice was like fingernails on a chalkboard. “Oh yeah?” he replied as coldly as possible, “and how do you know, huh?” He was trying his best not to squish his face to cover up his idiotic smile. “Is one of your gadgets showing you something I don’t know?”

“Not at all.”

“Then how do you know where we are going?” The acoustics of the tunnel amplified his angry voice to new heights.

“This is not the time for you to unload your frustration. Logic dictates that eventually we will reach the end. Furthermore, this is unknown territory. Who knows what lies at the end of this tunnel. And now, thanks to your vocal performance, whatever might be there knows about us at this point.”

“So what?! We have mister muscle here!”

“Kobi isn’t invincible, which is why we always have to assess the situation. It’s the part of covert missions you keep failing to understand.”

“So after Kobi fucked up half of the school, you suddenly realized we have to be covert. That’s interesting. Let me just-” Kasper started to search his jacket for something.

“What is it?”

“Wait. I know it’s somewh- ah! Here it is.” He brought his hand up, presenting his closed fist as if he was holding something. But after opening his palm, there was nothing there.

“It’s empty,” noted Lucan.

“Yeah. I was searching in my jacket for my portable Fuck-O-Meter and this is the exact amount of fucks it gave me about your speech.”

Lucan raised his finger, preparing to fight back. Alas, he was interrupted by a sound that caught their attention and sent a shiver down their spines. Whatever made it, they could hear it coming down the tunnel, slowly, but surely approaching their position.

“Shit! It did follow us here!”

Something about the sound seemed chaotic; it was excessively unnatural. There was a mix of sounds, one distinctly weirder than the other. The noises meshed together, creating a hellish soundscape.

“How could that thing survive without a fresh host for so long?!”

“Your guess is as good as any.”

It didn’t take long for their stalker to appear in their sights. And it wasn’t pretty.

“Fuck me!”

“It appears to be some kind of head and is still alive even after several minutes of infection.”

Kasper squinted his eyes, trying to make out details of the host body. His discovery sent his mind into a spiral of deep fear. “A Woolett! That thing got ahold of that motherfucking WOOLETT!!!

“It appears to be confused. I don’t think its behaviour is by design. This is quite extraordinary.”

“Extraor- What do you think this is, a fucking zoo?!”

Before anyone could do anything, the Woolett boy, or rather what was left of him at that point, opened his mouth filled with goo and released a bunch of tentacles with their own little screeching mouths.

“Fuck!”

The creature screeched in agony.

“FUUUUCK!!! RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!”

They didn't need much of a reason to start running for it, even though Lucan did wonder if that was the best thing they could do. “Maybe we should think this through.”

“Are you for real?! What the hell you wanna think about in the middle of running for our lives?!”

“That’s the issue. We don’t know what lies in front of us.”

“An escape!”

“Even if that is true and there is nothing else on the road ahead, we can’t say for certain when we’ll reach a safe haven.”

“We are running away from certain death! Is that logical enough for you?!”

“We can’t keep running forever! We need a plan and we need it soon!”

“The plan is to stay alive!”

“That is no- Wait, what’s that?”

“An imminent death, that’s what!”

But Lucan wasn’t paying attention to what was behind them, but rather what was standing in front of them. Against all odds, he saw a young blond girl, eagerly waving at him.

“That’s not possible…”

Even at their fast running pace, she was getting close real quick and he began to notice her grotesque dress and what appeared to be horns on her head. It all seemed surreal and he had trouble accepting it. “How…”

“What are you mumbling about??? That thing is getting closer!”

When death was breathing down one’s neck and the situation was spiraling out of control, one must take all the help he could get, even if it came from a girl that shouldn’t be there.

“All of you, into the room on your right!”

“What room?!”

The moment they were just a few meters away from it, the girl went inside, followed by Lucan holding Kasper’s shirt and Kobi with fear in his eyes.

“It’s right behind us!” Kobi squealed.

“Shove the door!” But Lucan knew that wouldn’t be enough.

He immediately started looking for something to barricade them. To his surprise the room was filled with old equipment of some kind. All that was left to do was to choose.

“That big heavy looking box! Lean it over the door so it can’t get inside!”

“Roger!”

Before they could all say “quickly” Kobi grabbed it, and with an incredible ease barricaded the door. Not two seconds after, the banging started; heavy, strong and loud, with a Woolite on the other side desperately trying to gain access to their safe haven.

“Not that I’m complaining,” said Kasper while trying to gasp for air, “but what the hell is this place? And most importantly, how we will get outside?”

“That… I’m not sure.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I was led her by a girl.”

In visible confusion, Kasper started to look around. All he could see was a mess covered by a thick layer of dust. “Not to ruin your parade, but there is no one in here.”

“I can see that, but I’m telling you that I saw her showing me to come here.”

“Oh that’s wonderful. A girl popped out of fucking nowhere, she points her sexy little fingers to this cute little room and you jump right in without thinking!”

“My decision saved our butts.”

“They’re called asses and maybe you didn’t notice, but this place is a FUCKING DEATHTRAP!!! There is no way out of here except for those doors and by the looks of it they won’t hold much longer! All you did was you handed our asses on a silver plate for that shit out there!”

“I refuse to think this was a mere accident. There must be a purpose to it!”

“I’m this close to giving my fist a purpose of meeting with your face up close and personal!”

Among all that noise, a new and different one started to come out from one of the walls. They didn’t hear at first, but in those short moments when the creature outside stopped smashing itself against the doors, they could hear it - the tinny sound of someone moving around in a shaft. Without saying a word, Kobi removed a tool shed of the wall and revealed an entry into the ventilation shaft.

“That’s our purpose.”

“Hmpf! Lucky guess.”

“Be that as it may, that’s our ticket out of here. Kobi, can you see if you will fit through?”

“Now this I want to see,” smiled Kasper.

Kobi bent over and went head-on inside, and to everyone’s surprise, with ease.

“Well I’ll be…”

“Excellent! Kasper, you follow him. I’ll be right behind you. And make it quick - the doors are starting to break down.”

“With pleasure!”

After Kasper disappeared in the shaft, Lucan looked at the door one last time. “For what it is worth: I’m sorry. I never intended any harm to any of you students. You didn’t deserve this.” With the guilt off his chest, he followed his teammates to escape the place.

“Kobi!” yelled Lucan from behind. “Can you see where it leads?”

“No! It’s dark in here. I’m scared.”

“It’s alright! Just keep on going until you reach the exit. Don’t be scared if there isn’t any light ahead either.”

“If there is an exit…”

“Kasper, shut it! We are all stressed as it is. There is no need to make it even worse.”

“But it makes me feel better.”

“You and I will have to have a talk about morale when we get back to HQ.”

“If we even get back…”

“Kasper!”

“Uhm, guys? There is something weird in here.”

Now they were both paying him attention.

“What kind of weird?” asked Lucan.

“I can feel the floor wobbling.”

“I can feel it too,” confirmed Kasper.

“This part of shaft might be suspended on the wall. Kobi! Keep on going, but do it slowly! Move one hand at the time and-”

CRAAAAACK!!!

They felt the entire shaft tilting forward and it showed no signs of slowing down. Soon after they all slid outside and started to fall. The new place they were in was completely dark, which only strengthened the anticipation of imminent death. Fortunately for them, the fall wasn’t too long. It was several more seconds before they would land, but first they hit something metallic, judging by the sound, followed shortly by a second clanging sound, which was their stop. Even though it didn’t take them long to hit the ground, the impact itself was unpleasant enough for them that they felt the need to check their bones.

“That… hurts,” noted Lucan. “Oh, my back.”

“Your back?” replied Kasper with sharp irony in his voice. “I can feel pain in bones I didn’t know I have!”

“Well, all things considered, I did save us, didn’t I?”

“If only you ‘saving’ us didn’t hurt this much.”

“Wait, I’ll use my flahlight. Here we go. Hmm.”

“Hmm? Don’t say hmm after the shit we just went through!”

“I’m just wondering where the girl went.”

“This again…”

“Whether you believe me or not is inconsequential. We survived because she intervened.”

“Have it your way. What is this place anyway? I don’t recognize a thing.”

“Yeah, this is…” Lucan’s mind was working on the question way before it was even asked, so even though he couldn’t name it just yet, the answer was already taking shape in his head. “This…” He touched the cold, rusty metallic pole. “This…” He then inspected the now mostly damaged seats on both sides. “This…”

“I swear, if you say ‘this’ one more time I will rip your tongue out and wear it like a tie! Just answer the fucking question: do you know what this is???”

Lucan looked into his eyes with a spark. “A railcar.”

“A what?”

“A railcar. This is an intact railcar.”

“I don’t know what a railcar is but…” Kasper looked around to inspect all the damage that took a bite out of the place. “I’d hardly call this intact.”

“Well, yes, of course, time is merciless to everything. Still, taking into account the age of this contraption, it is surprisingly well preserved.”

“Alright then. Let me rephrase the question: where the fuck are we?!”

“You really don’t know? Huh, come to think of it, it’s not really too surprising. You never really did pay attention to history lessons.”

“History doesn’t save your ass, bombs do. Now will you answer my damn question or what?!”

“Very well. Come with me.”

He proceeded to take them out of the carriage. They couldn’t move much even there, as there were multiple wagons all over the place, stacked close to each other. “This way.” Thankfully, the wagons weren’t derailed or otherwise damaged in such a way that might hinder their progress, so after a while of walking between them, they reached a spot where the tracks began to spread further apart from each other.

Kobi was fascinated by all of the new stuff he could explore, though he couldn't care less what it actually was; every new thing was a good thing. Kasper, however, never really enjoyed the whole exploration gig. He was only interested in blowing up the things they found.

Lucan turned around and raised his hands. “Gentlemen, welcome to the depot of Warnicorn Metro.”

“Wait, you mean to tell me that Warnicorn Metro is real?”

“Indeed it is, despite its almost legendary status, as you can see.”

“I thought it was just a rumor.”

“That’s because the Queen doesn’t like failures and she made sure to wipe its existence from public memory by simply killing everyone who dared to even acknowledge its existence. All the remaining physical evidence was destroyed.”

“Why not destroy the whole thing?”

“Because by the time she had a change of heart, the whole system was so complex that they couldn’t get rid of it without turning everything on top of it into debris. But they did lock it out from the reach of common folks by building additional tunnels and buildings around it.”

“How do you even know all this stuff?”

“Knowledge is power.”

The sound that came from above their heads made them look up, even thought they couldn't possibly see anything in the pitch black darkness. Still, the noise was distinct, and considering the recent events, it was obvious what was making it.

"You think it's that girl you saw?" asked Kasper.

"I hope so, though I somehow doubt it."

"Yeah."

The fact that they couldn't pinpoint the exact location of the noise was making the whole situation worse. All they could do was continue staring into dark nothingness.

Kasper huffed. "Shouldn't we get out of here? I'm not exactly thrilled to face it again."

"But where to? We didn't have the chance to explore this place. We might end up wandering for hours, days even, and never finding a way out nor what we came here to find."

"Guys?" Kobi interrupted them. "I think the girl is showing us the way."

As a welcomed distraction from the imminent horror, they looked left and noticed a blond girl in the most unusual dress, holding a flashlight and waving at them to follow her.

"Holy shit."

"Now you believe me, Kasper?"

"I believe my eyes."

"Uhm, all right. We should move be-"

Before Lucan could finish his sentence, they could hear what sounded like something crashing into one of the boxcars not far away from their position. All three of them had the same thought; each of them had hoped that they were wrong. It wasn’t clear at first, as the thing that landed inside wasn’t make any noise; if it was moving, it was doing so with the utmost secrecy.

“Maybe it’s dead,” said Kasper with a nervous chuckle, trying to hide the growing fear inside him.

“Maybe.”

“Er, guys, the girl is still waving at us. Maybe we should go meet her instead of waiting for that thing to eat us?”

Now this sent shivers down their spines. It was one thing to feel fear when a horribly deformed mutant was chasing them, but hearing that fear in the voice of their big gun made them realize the gravity of the situation. They were keen not to die.

“You’re right Kobi,” agreed Lucan. “We should leave this place before-”

The silence that was giving them some hope of being safe dissipated like a morning fog the moment the car started to keel from one side to another. A noise like that of steel being ripped apart emanated from it. They wanted to run as far as possible, but their legs were locked in place by the crippling fear of aggravating the creature and, in turn, of accelerating their journey toward their own demise. All they could do was to watch with hearts beating like crazy.

The sound started to move from the point of impact along the car. It was clear that it was ripping its insides out, though the purpose of doing so was unclear to them. That was, until it came out and they could see the thing by their own eyes; and that sight was haunting them.

“MY HOLY DICK!!!”

“My dear!”

“I’m scared! Can we go home now?!”

It was Tad. Or rather what was left of him. The impact was so great that despite being covered by the goo creature, he broke all of his bones and even a small part of his skull. But the entity wasn’t ready to give him up, so it improvised: it took all the steel pipes it needed to replace the cracked bones and cover the exposed brain, which was already looking like a dry plum. The creature certainly didn’t cater to aesthetics, so the thing standing there in front of them looked like a pure eldritch horror snatched straight from the worst of nightmares. It wasn’t doing anything, save irregularly breathing through semi-broken nostrils, but it was enough for them to shit their pants.

“Lu-Lucan?” stuttered Kasper.

“Yes?” answered Lucan with shaking voice.

“Tell me you have a plan. For everything that’s holy to you, tell me that you know how to get us out of here in one piece.”

“W-Well, erm, I…”

“No. No no no no no!”

“Just let me think, all right? I need to… assess the situation.”

“What do you need to assess?! That: a deadly monster - us: dead meat!”

“Don’t you think I don’t know that?! But if we want to survive this encounter we need to think smart about our next step.” Standing there against the creature, Lucan began to calm enough for him to formulate a plan. After a while of stressful thinking, he said, “Poop bombs.”

“Excuse me???”

“Didn’t you hear me?! Poop bombs!”

“Wha- Ooooooooooh!!! Poop bombs!”

“Yes, poop bombs.”

“So does this mean I have your permission to make shit go boom?”

“Only that specific shit, nothing else. We still need to finish our mission.”

“Man, how can you still think about the stinking mission?”

“Training. Now do your thing.”

“Right, right.” Kasper was, within the limits of the current situation, happy. He could finally shine with his explosive personality against a worthy adversary! If only he could force himself to make a move.

“What are you waiting for?”

“It’s just that… It might recognize they are bombs and chop me into pieces before setting them off.”

“I don’t believe it will do that. At least not right away.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Its behavior. Just like a few minutes ago, it isn’t doing anything. Chasing us all the way down here, but not proceeding with killings.”

“Now that is weird.”

While the two could hide their fear for the most part, Kobi wasn’t so fortunate.

“Can you PLEEASEEE make it go away?!” There was a subtle hint of cry in his voice.

“Alright, alright! You’re acting as if we are about to die or something. Sheesh. OK then, I’m reaching for my belt, slowly!” And he was really slow, straining every muscle in his arm to keep its movements to an absolute minimum. A sloth standing next to him would appear as if doped on caffeine.

Lucan was watching him the whole time. “What are you doing?”

“Trying not to startle it.”

“Just pick those bombs and throw them at it already!”

“Pfft! OK, fine, have it your way!” He angrily reached into his pocket, picked a handful of small black balls, and threw them at it as if in tantrum. “There! Happy?!”

There were several scenarios they could have imagined once Kasper threw the bombs: a premature explosion, a late explosion, an explosion doing not nearly enough damage, an explosion that was misdirected… Basically every idea contained some form of explosion. What they got instead was something completely not expected: tiny, nasty tentacles reaching out from all over the hijacked body and eating those small bombs, not leaving a single mark after them. No flash, no sound, no smoke. Just gone.

“Well, that just happened, “ summarized Kasper. “I think it’s safe to say we are fucked.”

“Not just yet.”

“What do you mean not just yet? It ate them! They didn’t leave a dent on it! That’s an apt description of being fucked!”

“But it still isn’t doing anything. That’s a good sign.”

“It’s a sign of it playing with its food.”

“You and your pessimism.” “You still don’t believe me? Here, let me make this jump to end this fucking sharade.”

“Wait, what are you doing?!”

But it was too late. Kasper made a swift jump away from the monster to demonstrate just how wrong his leader was. And the monster did the most unusual thing he could think of: once again, absolutely nothing.

“What the- WHAT THE FUCK IS ITS PROBLEM?! First it chases us, then it stops, then it chases again and when it has us on a silver plate, it doesn’t do shit again! That thing is broken! Fuck it, let’s go!”

“No!”

“Oh fuck you Lucan! I had enough of your bullshit!”

“Just wait a second! I think I know what is happening here. And if I’m right…” He raised his foot and made a step back. Tad, as previously, did nothing.

“I give up,” Kasper threw up his arms.

“Just one more thing. Kobi, make one step back. Slowly.”

“But I’m scared.”

“I know you are. We all are. But I need you to do this one thing for me. Please? Just one slow step back, nothing more.”

“Uhm, erm, o-ok.” Kobi carefully lifted his leg and started to move it behind his back. That immediately triggered a growling in the monster. “Gah!” He quickly returned his leg back to where it was previously.

“Ha! So I was right after all!”

“I am so fucking happy for you, man. Like, I would give a hug and shit, but unfortunately this place kills the mood for it.”

“Yes, yes. Do you remember that encounter we had with the girl, the one with the book?”

“Her name was Kelly,” Kobi quickly corrected him, which awarded him an even nastier growl from the creature.

“Hush now, Kobi. Let me talk. So anyway, we heard another voice coming out of her hair. Head to be more precise. I now believe that was her boyfriend.”

“Even if so, how the hell is this supposed to help us?”

“Because now I can come up with some kind of plan to get us out of here in one piece while achieving our mission goal.”

“Do tell.”

“You see, when the goo attacked him, it went on with its business; sucking out all the brain energy and all that. But the substance wasn’t created with Woolites in mind. And there is a good reason for it: back then no Woolite was living in Mewni and they were considered extinct after the great Magical Wars with their people. My guess is that it couldn't fully merge with its host and when it was about to be done with this boy here, it wanted to jump to another victim, but at that very moment it tapped into his rage against Kobi. ”

“Because he was hitting on her!”

“Exactly! So now they are both locked in endless agony: the boy is alive just a split moment from death and the goo is dying of hunger, and both want the opposite things. Although at this point my guess would be he just wants to die.”

“Awesome mental work, dude! Now, let me ask you this: HOW THE FUCK IS THIS SUPPOSE TO HELP US?!”

“We can use Kobi here as bait.”

“What?! No! No bait! I don’t want to die!” Kobi objected.

“Don’t worry, I don’t want you dead either. We will just make sure it will follow you to a place where we can kill it. The boy deserves his peace and we deserve to live. Are you with me, Kobi?”

“So I won’t die?”

“Not if you will do exactly what I tell you to do.”

“O-OK.” Even though he agreed, he wasn’t convinced.

“This is all dandy and sweet and shit, but what is the actual plan?”

“I’m not exactly sure.”

“Say what?!”

Kobi lit up. “But the blond girl appears to know how to proceed.”

Kasper looked over his shoulder to the opening in the dark. “She was holding that flashlight this whole time? Damn she has to have a strong arm.”

“I believe it is safe to assume she wants us to follow her there. Which we’ll do.”

“Excellent idea boss, but it seems you forgot about one small, tiny, itsy-bitsy, but ever so crucial detail: we can’t move our asses out of here without turning Kobi’s ass into a ham!”

“Well it looks like the girl disagrees with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look at her.”

“Why- I was just checking a minute ag- Oh.”

The girl was still holding her flashlight, but now she was pointing it at something above their heads. He looked up and saw a train car hanging on a steel rope, though he didn’t recognize the contraption holding it there.

“The fuck is that?”

“No clue. But that is unimportant right now. All we need to do is to make it fall down on that thing… that… is- Is it growling?”

“Yeah,” Kobi confirmed, “and I didn’t move from my place, like, at all. I even slowed down my breathing so I wouldn’t enrage it. It really hates me.”

“Yeah, who doesn’t? Lucan, while that thing hanging above our heads is certainly convenient, how do you want to get it down and break its skull with it?”

“Simple: with your help.”

“My help? I ain’t going up there!”

“I didn’t mean that, you simpleton. You’re a demolition expert. Don’t you have a means to shoot it down or something like that?”

“Oh that kind of help! Yeah, sure, I should have something tha- Oh, I know!” Kasper reached into his pocket again and this time he brought out something yellow and bright resting in his palm.

“A firefly.”

“Yes.”

Lucan looked at him with suspicion. “With all those explosives you have at your disposal and you picked a firefly.”

“Ah, but not just any firefly. A Blind Bandit.”

“I really hope that’s just a name.”

“Nope. It’s really blind.”

“Kasper, we don’t have time for this.”

“What?! This is the perfect solution to our problem. Look, these fireflies are rare and really hard to train.”

“You mean to tell me you trained this thing?”

“Of course! They are really dumb. Even dumber than Kobi here. But they also have what you would call an explosive personality - they make a lot of damage upon contact.”

“How come it didn’t explode in your hand?”

“Because it’s not flying, duh! So you want that thing to fall down, right? Then I’ll just point it at the rope keeping it there and BOOM!”

“How precise is it?”

Kasper was beginning to be annoyed. “It goes exactly where I show it to go. I could send it towards a moving hoving car and it would splash against it with a smile.”

“All right, I believe you. Kobi, are you ready?”

“Yes please!”

“Kasper, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Kasper aimed has hand at the illuminated rope and gently blew air at the little creature. As if being a leaf, it took off and started to fly in a straight line. “See? Easy.”

“Excellent. Now, both of you be ready to start running.”

“Running? Aren’t you exaggerating a little? We just need to move away.”

“That car won’t kill it.”

“What are you on about? Of course it will kill it!”

“A fall from 10 meters won’t end its life, so I doubt this will be successful in that regard.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Perhaps. But she does,” Lucan pointed at the girl still pointing her flashlight. “It’s apparent she wants to help and that she knows this place.”

“You think we can trust her?”

“Unclear, but we don’t have much of a choice.”

Kasper looked up. “Well, we will see soon enough. Ten seconds!”

“Kobi, we will all start running towards the girl on my mark.”

“OK!”

“Three, two, one, RUN!”

They all quickly turned around and started to run away from the creature. That enraged it and it immediately began to follow them, but it managed to make only a few steps before a loud explosion was heard above and the massive train car landed on top of it. None of them dared to look back, as they believed it would be pointless. When they were approaching the gal, she didn't wait for them and started to run as well.

“Hey, wait for us!” Lucan yelled towards her, but she didn’t pay any attention to him.

“Should we follow her?” asked Kasper.

Suddenly a loud and unnatural screech was heard from behind.

“There is no turning back. Keep running!”

The air inside the hallway they entered was stiff and old and kinda smelly. But all that was irrelevant to them. What mattered was the fact that they were being chased by a monster that now looked like a living nightmare. Kasper was the last one and he could hear it following them the best. It also meant he could just turn around and take a glimpse of it if he wanted.

Left, left, right, up the stairs.

The idea of seeing its current shape had made his mind so preoccupied that he didn’t notice the change of scenery. Instead of a plain tunnel they were now in a hallway with a lot of doors, and the further they went the wider the hallway got.

Right.

He didn’t want to turn back. The fact he could hear it more clearly with each step suggested it was getting closer. But his curiosity took hold of him and forced him to turn his head around, if only for a split second. That split second was more than enough to scare him to death.

“FUCK! That shit is really pissed we took its favorite chew toy and it wants it back! BADLY!”

“I can hear it too! It sounds extra motivated!”

“No shit! Do you still see the girl?”

“Yes! But I’m clueless as to where she is taking us!”

“We will find out in one minute!”

“Why one minute?”

“Because we will be dead in one minute!!!”

Up the stairs and through big doors.

Now the place had turned into a wide square full of shops and vending machines. There was also a weird, blueish flickering light coming from behind turnstile, which was exactly where the girl was leading them. This made Lucan suspicious and question his decision to trust her. Whatever the case, it was too late to change his mind, and all he could do was follow the whole situation through.

They turned right to the light. With full running speed they barged into an abandoned boarding platform with a huge hole in the middle of it. Lucan saw it at the last moment.

“KOBI, TURN RIGHT AND GRAB KASPER!” Even he had trouble steering his body to the side, so seeing Kobi steering his while grabbing Kasper along the way was truly something. They were safe from falling to their deaths, but not so much from being eaten.

Not five seconds later a massive black blob beyond recognition emerged out of the darkness from behind, covered by steel shrapnel and tentacles. The creature too had the problem of staying on their tails while going after them at full speed, but it managed to attach itself onto nearby pillars to keep itself from falling into the abyss. Still, a small part of its mass did lurk over it, and that small part was enough for it to sign its death warrant.

Out of the blue and without any prior indication of its presence, a huge, nasty looking reddish tentacle appeared from the sinkhole and wrapped itself around the black creature. The creature shrieked, trying to hold itself in place, but the fight was predestined to fail. It was being loud, attaching itself to various things around in total panic, but the sheer difference in size was simply too great for it to stand any chance. After a short horrifying theater they had to witness, the blob was snatched against its will down into the pitch black.

Lucan was pointing with his flashlight at the scenario the whole time and even after it was done he couldn’t force himself to move his hand away from the hole. The shock of it all took hold of his nerves, keeping him from doing anything at all.

“Well,” noted Kasper, “I believe the smaller problem is gone. Can we now panic over the bigger one?”

“I- uhm,” suttered Lucan.

“This place is fucked up, man. How anything with magic can exist in this place is beyond me.”

His mention of magic jump-started Lucan’s mind. He got back on his feet and started to search for the girl. She was the only thing he could focus on to regain his sanity after what he had just witnessed. Lucky for him, she wanted to be found. But this time she wasn't showing any sign of movement. In fact, she was standing across the chasm perfectly still, almost like a statue.

That wasn't the reassurance he was looking for.

“Uhm, OK, well, I- I think we should reach out to her here before that thing decides it needs a dessert. Kobi, are you feeling well?”

“No.” His voice was weak and silent.

But Kasper wasn't convinced by his plan. "Dude, that chick is giving me creepy vibes. And that says something, considering the shit we just went through."

"I can't deny feeling a degree of… uncertainty. I'm still shaken by these events, just like you. But that wasn't our mission."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me…"

"Without purpose we are lost. More so in this uncharted place."

"All the more reason to get the fuck out!"

"That is my goal as well, but first I need to know why she brought us here. Now, follow me around this pit. Surely a few extra steps wouldn't hurt you."

Kasper mumbled something inaudible but agreed to get a move on, quite reluctantly though, as the passage to the other side was narrow and the possibility of being eaten alive very much probable.

Kobi was shaken the most, almost to the point of not being able to move from his place; a place he grew to like over the last few minutes. It gave him a sense of security, even if it was false.

Lucan, who had some problem of coping with the situation himself, needed to muster every last drop of confidence he had left to comfort him. "Look, Kobi, the pretty girl is just over there. We just need to get to her and then we will be on our way."

"I don't like her."

Kasper felt the need to join the discussion. "At least something we can agree on."

But Lucan quickly shut him off with a look in his eyes. "We will just check what she wants, nothing more."

Kobi looked up with his sad puppy eyes. "And we go?"

"Of course."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

He looked over to the girl just standing there with an unnatural look on her face. "Well ok."

Lucan grabbed his hand, though thanks to his massive body it was a mere symbolic gesture. He then turned to Kasper. "Lead the way."

"Gee, thanks."

They were moving along the edge of the pit in one line making sure not to fall down. Only Lucan kept watching the girl, than his own footsteps. She didn't appear to show any signs of movement and the flickering blue light above her was giving her an almost eerie feeling. Just before he was behind a pillar, she suddenly turned her head his way and smiled. But it wasn't a smile of a girl; it was a smile of a winner.

And as if she wasn't really there, once they got past the pillar, she was gone. He quickly approached the spot he had seen her standing. The floor was dusty, but didn't have any footsteps. The creepy feelings intensified, as did Kobi's anxiety.

"Can we go now?"

"Not yet."

Kasper disagreed. "Oh come on, dude! Now you're just being an asshole. There is nothing here!"

"I wouldn't be so sure of that. Think about it: we enter a centuries old piece of architecture, seemingly abandoned for the same length of time, and then this person appears out of nowhere and starts helping us, leading us to a specific place. This place."

"You're just making absurd connections that aren't there."

"I don't think they are. It's beginning to make perfect sense to me now."

"How convenient that your brain lit up in this place in particular."

"Your doubts are understandable. But I believe I can disperse the gloom looming over your head - with this."

"Your doohickey?"

"I'm convinced that if I'll turn it on here, it'll immediately light up."

"I want to see that."

And so Lucan flipped it on and to Kasper's surprise, and to Kobi's relief, it did just that.

"Well I'll be…"

"I believe that she wasn't just leading us out of harm's way. She was also leading us to the very thing we came here to search for."

"How's that even possible???"

"I have no idea, and just this once I'm fine with it."

"But what about the pretty girl?" asked Kobi.

Kasper nodded. "I can't believe I'm actually agreeing with him, but he has a point. She did help us after all."

"I don't think she wants to be found."

"What makes you think that?"

"Do you see her?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Then we're leaving her where she wants to be. Now, let's see what we get here."

Kasper was somewhat shocked by his response, but taking into account what happened and the place they were in, he just shrugged it off.

"Well, even though we're here, wherever 'here' is, how the hell do we know what to look for? Do you know what the damn thing even looks like?"

"Not yet. Here, hold the flashlight. I'm going to find the source."

Lucan's apparatus was definitely going crazy, but still wasn't at its peak level. Aware of this fact, he began to search the place. He was glad when the signal weakened when he pointed it towards the pit. But when facing what appeared to be a glass wall, the readings hit the ceiling.

"In there! Kasper, shine some light into it."

The light rays revealed a curious sight: toys. A lot of them, being thrown around the place in random order.

Kasper was surprised. "A toy shop?"

On the other hand, Kobi was happy. "Yay! Toys! Can I take one?"

"We didn't come here to steal useless crap, you doofus! Now, which shit in there is the thing we're looking for?"

"I'm not sure. My equipment isn't that sensitive."

"Then you better make it sensitive enough, because I sure as hell ain't going in there to search for it!"

"Wait!"

"What?"

"Go back a little. Yes, there! Do you see it?"

"See what exactly?"

"It's buried beneath all those toys, but I think I can see a small part of it peeking out."

"I see nothing."

"You will. Kobi, break the glass, please."

"Wee, toys!" Kobi broke it with quite the enthusiasm, resulting in glass shattering all over the place.

Kasper shielded himself from the spray of glass. "Not so hard, you fucking twat! You almost cut us!"

"Oopsie. Can I take toys now?"

"No! Lucan, tell me you see that damn thing."

"Indeed I do. Hold on."

He reached his hand into the pile of cushy toys. To his surprise they were in quite good condition for being hundreds of years old. But this realization went quickly away when he touched a very slick handle and felt a slight tingling sensation in his fingers.

"Got it."

And when he brought it out, they couldn't believe their own eyes.

Kobi’s pupils almost dilated with glee. "What a beautiful toy!!!" he gasped.

What was a mere toy to Kobi, was something entirely different to Kasper and Lucan. A wide range of new possibilities opened just before their eyes.

"No. Fucking. Way. It can't be!"

"But it is! Do you realize what this means? This changes everything! We can finally make a final move against the queen!"

They were silently staring at the object in Lucan's hand. The handle was smooth, with a spiral ornament and a small crystal at the bottom. On the other side it had a star shaped crystal surrounded by small hearts and embedded in half a sphere, which had two wings attached on both sides.

Lucan was ecstatic. "The ultimate source of magic in the whole world: a magical wand!"

"But I thought there is only one and it belongs to the queen."

"I'm holding the proof that we were wrong this entire time!"

But then Kasper noticed something weird about it. "Uhm, dude? Not to ruin your parade, but doesn't it look kinda weird to you? Because to me it looks dead. There are barely any colors, just shades of grey."

Lucan clearly didn't like Kasper's remark. "It is of no consequence. We have it. It is ours. We can use. We will use it."

"Yeah, sure, awesome stuff, except that we are still stuck in this hellhole. How the fuck do we get out?! We can’t go back the way we came in."

It was unclear if the wand actually heard his question, or that it could even understand his question; but the fact remained that for a few seconds it regained all of its colors and shined bright as a sun, followed by lights lighting up a hallway leading to a stairway. They kept staring at the possibly most convenient getaway that ever existed. After being tired by looking just one way, they carefully looked down at the wand, expecting it to talk to them or something similar. But it remained silent.

“That didn’t just happen, right?” asked Kasper, looking for moral support. “I mean, wands aren’t alive, right?”

“Sentient is the word you are looking for. And honestly I’m not sure about anything anymore, except that this thing is the key to our victory. So let’s just accept this offering of good faith and get back to base.”

“Spooky wand,” added Kobi.

They left the horrors of Warnicorn Metro behind and began to rise to the surface. The climb was quite long and exhausting, but after all they went through, this was a walk in the park. And truth to be told, they enjoyed it. After all, they had the most powerful, and most likely also the only known, weapon strong enough to defeat and kill the queen, Omnia Butterfly.

[jarienn972]

Curse of Undoings - Part 5

I know it has been a few days since the last update but now that I'm back to my semi-normal routine after pulling something in my back a few weeks ago,  I won't be able to update this quite as quickly as the first few chapters. There's still lots more story to tell and absolutely lots more whump to be had. This chapter is heavily focused on Henry but (spoiler alert) we'll have plenty of Captain Cobra action coming.  This chapter does contain some semi-graphic descriptions of injuries - nothing too clinical, but adding warnings to the squeamish.( although if you fall into that category, this probably isn’t the best fic for you.)

Tagging @killian-whump, @hookaroo and @castielamigos for the new update and you can read from the beginning here: Part 1  Part 2  Part 3 Part 4 or on AO3 and FF.net

Henry leaned his back against the cobweb strewn wall of the crawl space behind his mother's office – well, what had been Regina's office before the advent of the Black Fairy's curse and his adoptive mom, along with so many others from town, vanished. For some unknown reason, Henry appeared to have been immune to Fiona's curse. Maybe it had something to do with him being the Author or perhaps it was because he was, by blood, Fiona's great-grandson, but either way, he'd not been subjected to the false memories plaguing his mother, Emma.

Having grown up playing in and around the Town Hall building, Henry knew all of the secret passages within its walls – including this narrow, dusty air vent that was adjacent to the office. Regina had discovered it long ago but Henry made the assumption that Fiona would be oblivious to the secreted space, being new to the town and the occupant of this office for less than a day. He'd come here straight from the park intending to spy on Fiona, ducking inside through the building's rear entrance before climbing into the vent from its access point in the janitor's closet.

He just didn't expect to stumble upon a conversation between Fiona and Gideon, the pair discussing a prisoner being held downstairs. Henry hadn't realized at first who they were talking about, but a few minutes later, he very quickly put two and two together when Emma strolled in to Fiona's office. Henry couldn't see the expression on her face, but Henry was horrified by the lust for vengeance resonating in his mother's voice while bragging about questioning the prisoner about murders that never occurred. He was especially disturbed by her statement that she didn't care if her questioning killed him first. What exactly had she already done to Killian? Worse yet, how could she harm someone she loved so much? Was the curse really so strong that it could destroy True Love?

Now Henry knew he had to find Killian. He knew that his stepfather was hidden away somewhere in this building, or more correctly under the building in the super creepy sub basement. If he could get Fiona to leave the office for five minutes, he knew where Regina kept a duplicate set of keys in her desk. He'd just need a distraction to get inside and grab the ring, preferably before his mother got done with lunch and before she discovered that he wasn't at home like he'd promised. Nothing difficult about any of this…

He knew nearly every nook and cranny of Regina's office and from all appearances, Fiona hadn't changed much during her takeover. There were a few new touches – photographs of various infants he didn't recognize and a few random knickknacks added to the shelves, but otherwise, his mother's office seemed intact. Fiona just had to leave so he could get inside and he'd be able to check to make sure she hadn't changed anything within the desk itself. It didn't seem likely that the Black Fairy would have had time to search for hidden false panels or stashed away duplicates of the keys to every door in this building and probably to every other public building in town.

She wasn't really the Mayor so Henry doubted there would be much for her to do here in the office. He could only hope that it wouldn't be a long wait before she vacated the office. Mercifully, he heard Fiona's phone ring and while there was no way to know what was being said on the other end of the conversation, it was quite clear that the person she was speaking to was someone else who had retained their real memories. Midway through the conversation, Henry heard Rumplestiltskin's name mentioned and saw Fiona push her chair back from the desk and stand, agreeing to meet the caller in a few minutes. She strolled briskly toward the office door, but Henry noticed an odd action as she left the office. She took a glance at one of the bookshelves as she passed it and appeared to smile, but Henry couldn't tell what object had drawn her attention. He thought it was strange, but it was something he simply couldn't think about right now.

As soon as he could no longer hear the click of her heels on the marble, Henry scrambled to the vent exit and cautiously peered into the hallway to make sure the coast was clear. Certain he was safe, he hurried to Regina's office door which now bore Fiona's name emblazoned across the glass. Shaking his head at the surname she'd adopted – Black, he shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out a chain containing a copy of the office key that still successfully gave him access. Fiona was so certain she'd win that she didn't even bother to change the locks. And that was a good thing.

Now to the desk where he found that the duplicate key he'd made for the bottom drawer also worked perfectly, giving him access to places he'd poked through so many times before the original curse broke when he'd been hunting for information about his family or evidence that his beliefs were true. That was how he'd first stumbled onto the concealed false panel in the bottom right drawer containing a huge ring of assorted keys in every imaginable shape and size. Over the years, he'd learned what most of the keys would open but there were some he'd never really tested. He knew there were a series of doors located in the sub-basement that he'd never asked about. He didn't know what purpose they served or what they'd been intended to hold, but he was certain that he'd find Killian behind one of them.

It took him under a minute to locate and pop open the panel, finding the keys exactly where they'd always been but while he had the desk drawer open, he plucked out a few other items that might prove useful later and pocketed them all. He knew what trinkets and potions Regina kept on hand here and since she wasn't around to tell him no, he figured he could ask for her forgiveness later – assuming this worked… He didn't care what he had to borrow or steal right now because getting his family back was most important.

As he departed the office, he found his own eyes drawn to the same bookshelf he'd watched Fiona peruse earlier, wondering what object she'd been grinning at. Had it been one of these books or perhaps a photograph? Some other shiny object? There was no way he could know what it had been so he dismissed the thought with a brief shake of his head. He'd worry about finding Killian first and then maybe his stepfather would be able to provide some insight into all of this.

With so many people missing from Storybrooke, Henry encountered little resistance as he descended the stairs to the basement level of the Town Hall. He hurried past the storerooms and maintenance closets to the unilluminated doorway at the end of the hall marked DO NOT ENTER in vivid orange lettering. Neither that sign nor the door's lock had ever deterred him before and he was already quite familiar with the dimly lit concrete staircase that lay on the other side.

Those shadowy stairs led down to the bowels of the building which he knew housed the boiler room and a series of locked steel doors. It definitely resembled a dungeon down there so it made sense that they'd stash Killian in one of those rooms. But before he could search for his stepfather, he needed to get past the single guard positioned at the bottom of the steps. The uniformed guard didn't seem overly enthusiastic about his dungeon duty, leaning his chair back against the concrete block wall while playing a game on his phone. No one really knew about this place so Henry figured if he could get past this guy, he likely wouldn't encounter any other guards. Giant, locked metal doors generally provided enough security themselves so the solo guard was probably just there to ward off any would-be trespassers.

Henry had taken into consideration that he might encounter guards along the way so he made his way down the stairs as silently as he could. When he reached the landing where the steps changed direction, he paused a moment to pull a tiny velveteen pouch from his jacket pocket. He untied the drawstring that sealed the pouch and tipped it onto his palm, spilling out a handful of bright purple powder. With a hearty puff of air, he blew the colorful powder towards the oblivious guard's face, waiting as the man coughed a couple of times before tumbling off of his chair and onto the floor in a deep slumber. Henry smiled triumphantly at his first success. Sleeping powder sure comes in handy at times. This guy would be out for at least an hour now.

After the cloud settled enough to be safe, Henry scurried down the remaining steps with his mother's ring of keys now clutched in his fist, ever so thankful that they hadn't shifted in his pocket to betray his position. In the poorly lit corridor, he could see the five steel doors lining one side of the hall that ended at the boiler room – well, officially ended at the boiler room. He'd previously discovered that the room contained a hidden tunnel that connected the Town Hall to the mines, a passageway that, as far as he knew, not even a single dwarf was aware of.

Henry stood before the first door for a few seconds while fumbling through the plethora of keys in his hand, trying to figure out which might be the right one. The lock had a large keyhole so he could easily rule out the smaller keys, focusing on the larger ones that more closely resembled the skeleton key that opened Regina's vault. He had to fiddle with a few of them before locating the correct one but he finally felt the mechanism turning and then tugged the heavy door towards him.

Peeking in, he had an involuntary shiver wash over him as he took in the horrific sight behind the door. Rusty iron chains and shackles hung from the ceiling and he could see more of them strewn across the floor that appeared to be anchored to the concrete walls. He couldn't really tell from his present location but he was certain that the stains on the cement floor, despite being the same ruddy hue as the chains, were probably blood – and he didn't want to venture any further into the empty chamber to find out. It was clear that nothing good had taken place in this room and he was now feeling a bit more consternation about what Killian might be experiencing.

Not bothering to close or re-secure the first door, Henry moved quickly to the next. With little time to spare, he repeated the process with the keys until he found the right one to unlock the second deadbolt. When he pulled this door open, he found the room to be completely dark, but he remained still for a moment, certain he'd heard sounds coming from inside. There was a faint scraping and a rattle that could have been something metallic like the chains in the other room but there was something more – it sounded like labored breathing and maybe - whimpering?

Henry tentatively ran his hand along the wall closest to the door feeling for a light switch. The first little torture chamber had electricity so this one must too. His fingers finally found the switch but as the light illuminated the room, he realized he wasn't fully mentally prepared for what he would find. In the center of this second concrete block chamber, there was a man laying atop a raised metal table and even from the threshold, Henry could see that the man was secured to the table by a series of heavy shackles and sturdy padlocks. The restrained man's breathing seemed to become more accelerated after the light came on and Henry now knew that the rattle he'd heard was from the prisoner's fearful quivering, likely in anticipation of further torment.

He couldn't yet see the man's face, but Henry noticed that on the left side of the table, the prisoner's arm was dangling off of the surface, trailing blood onto the floor that dropped from a scarred and stumped wrist. Only one man he knew had an amputated left hand… "Killian?" His initial voicing of his stepfather's given name was more of a stunned statement than an actual question. He knew this was Killian, but he had no idea what condition the pirate would be in, the sight of blood not a promising indication. Hearing a grunted response, Henry moved closer to the table and immediately saw the reason he didn't get a verbal reply – Killian had been gagged with some sort of harness contraption and his neck was encircled by a huge metal collar that was chained to the table too. "Wow, Killian… what happened? Uh, never mind… Let me see if I can get these things off of you…"

Killian watched the boy with hopeful eyes and a racing heart as Henry flipped through a bunch of keys, searching for one that might open the padlocks but none seemed to be the right fit. He had no idea when Emma or Gideon might return and the last thing he wanted was to see any harm come to Henry if he got caught in here trying to free him.

"None of these is the right size," Henry announced in a slightly disappointed voice. "But don't worry – I'm not done yet. We can try these…" Resting the ring of keys on the tabletop next to Killian's shackled hand, Henry reached into his back pocket and withdrew a small, rectangular case that had a zipper running around three sides. The pirate recognized the case as Emma's lock pick set as the teenager unzipped it and withdrew two of the picks, one with a straight, flat tip and one with a narrower, slightly curved tip. Henry went right to work, first on the padlock securing the collar around Killian's throat. With a few practiced maneuvers, he had the lock popped open in no time, tossing the padlock into the floor as he freed Killian from the cumbersome collar. His next task was to free Killian's wrist from the iron shackle which then enabled him to help his stepfather into an upright, seated position so that he'd be able to get a better look at the contraption secured to Killian's head and see how the harness was fastened.

As he swiftly released the padlocks from the ankle shackles, Henry began to take increased notice the wounds on Killian's battered body. His wrists and ankles were chafed and ringed with bruises from the cumbersome restraints. His abdomen bore angry red marks on each side that looked like burns as well as a patch of darkening bruising beneath his ribs and of course, there was a deep puncture wound in his left shoulder that was bleeding heavily, but it wasn't until Henry moved behind Killian to remove the harness and gag that he saw the worst of the horrors Killian had been subjected to. Killian's entire back was laced with crisscrossing cuts and welts, some bright red and seeping, others deep black and blue, pooled with blood that hadn't escaped his skin.

"Wha…what happened?" Henry asked, trying not to stare at the open, obviously painful wounds, but he immediately chastised himself, remembering that Killian was still gagged. "Oh, sorry… You can't answer that yet…" the boy apologized as he located a narrower pick to release the smaller padlock securing the harness buckles. Once the lock and straps were opened, Killian yanked the offending device off of his head and massaged his aching jaw that had been forced open far too long.

"Thank you, lad," Killian croaked out the words in a raspy whisper, his throat burning and parched. "Have you any water?"

"No, sorry… I'll find you some as soon as we get out of here."

"How? Where are we even?"

"Beneath the Town Hall and I know a way out. Come on, we need to hurry."

"You're taking a huge risk rescuing me," Killian said honestly as Henry helped him off of the table, his legs shaking as his bare feet reached the cement floor, not even certain if he had the strength to walk, but for Henry's sake, he had to, but Killian also knew they had another problem – should they make it out of this prison safely, he had no clothing. He couldn't exactly venture outside clad only in his undergarments. "Also, we have a small problem I've no clothing. I was locked in here with scarcely a stitch…"

"Then we'll borrow the guard's," Henry stated, gesturing toward the sleeping man on the ground as they made their way into the corridor.

"Shouldn't we worry that we might wake him?"

"Nah… I snagged a pouch of sleeping powder from my Mom's desk when I borrowed her hidden ring of spare keys. He'll be asleep for a while yet. The clothes might be a little big on you, but at least you won't be naked."

"Some interesting skills you've acquired, young man," Killian commented with a proud smile curling on his lips while Henry started rapidly undressing the slumbering guard.

"My mother was a thief, my grandmother was a bandit and my stepfather is a pirate. I'd say it runs in the family."

"Indeed," Killian smiled broadly before biting it back with a wince as a wave of pain caught him unprepared, but he didn't let Henry see his grimacing. Clearly the lad had been paying attention during their adventures. Perhaps a bit too much attention, but that would be a conversation for another day. Escaping this hellhole was his foremost priority then he'd think about giving lessons on misspent youth. Maybe after vanquishing a fairy…

[claudia1829things]

"FLASHMAN AT THE CHARGE" (1973) Book Review

"FLASHMAN AT THE CHARGE" (1973) Book Review Serving as the fourth entry in George MacDonald Fraser’s The Flashman Papers, this 1973 novel continued the story of Harry Flashman, a character previously from the 1857 novel, "Tom Brown’s Schooldays" and now a British Army officer in Fraser’s novels. This particular novel, "FLASHMAN AT THE CHARGE", recalled Flashman’s experiences during the Crimean War (1854-1856) and Imperial Russia’s expansion into Central Asia.

One could say that "FLASHMAN AT THE CHARGE" could almost serve as a prequel to Fraser’s 1975 novel about the Sepoy Rebellion, "FLASHMAN IN THE GREAT GAME". Almost. But it seemed quite obvious to me that the latter is a sequel to the 1973 novel. At least two supporting characters from this novel reappeared in "FLASHMAN IN THE GREAT GAME". And the theme of Imperial Russia’s attempts to wrestle control of India from Great Britain in the 1975 novel, began in this novel. The 1973 novel began with Harry Flashman enjoying the London social scene with his beautiful wife, Elspeth. With Great Britain on the brink of war against Russia on Turkey’s behalf, the cowardly Flashman believed that the only way to avoid combat was to have his Uncle Bindley secure him a post with the Board of Ordinance – the British Army’s armory. However, Flashman’s luck failed to hold (not surprisingly) and his meeting with the young German prince, William of Celle (a relation of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert) led him to become a staff galloper for Lord Raglan, the British Army’s Commander-in-Chief. The new position drew Harry against his will into the chaos of the Crimean War and in becoming a participant of one of history’s most infamous cavalry engagements – the Charge of the Light Brigade. This famous military action also led him to becoming a prisoner-of-war at the estate of a Cossack nobleman named Count Pencherjevsky At Count Pencherjevsky’s estate, Starkosk, Flashman has a reunion with a former Rugby schoolmate, Harry "Scud" East. After the two English prisoners learned of Russia’s plans to invade India and kick the British out, they decided to make their escape following a serf uprising at Starkosk. Unfortunately for Flashman, a sleigh accident led to his recapture by the Russians and a political officer named Count Nicholas Ignitieff. Flashy’s incarceration at Fort Raim led him to an acquaintance with two famous Muslim freedom fighters from the state of Kokodad, Yakub Beg and Issat Kutebar. Luck finally caught up with Flashman, when he and his two new acquaintances are rescued by Yakub Beg’s mistress, Ko Dali’s daughter, and a band of Kokodans. Following the rescue, Harry participated in one last action against the Russians against his will . . . so to speak. I must admit that "FLASHMAN AT THE CHARGE" turned out to be a well-structured and well-written novel. Unless I am mistaken, the novel was written into three parts – the London prelude, Flashman’s Crimean War experiences that included his time as a prisoner-of-war at the Starkosk estate, and finally his incarceration at Fort Raim and experiences with the Kokadans. Fraser began the novel on a strong note and finished it in a similar manner. My only sole complaint centered on Flashman’s journey to Starkosk and his time at the estate. In short, it seemed to me that the sequence threatened to bog down the pace. I suspect that Fraser’s in-depth look into Imperial Russian serfdom during this sequence is responsible. As much as I found it interesting, I also wondered if Fraser got caught up in his subject, which would seem ironic considering his failure to explore American slavery in the 1971 novel, "FLASH FOR FREEDOM!". As much as I had enjoyed Flashman’s time spent with Count Pencherjevsky and his family on the Starkosk estate, no one felt more relieved than me when he and "Scud" East finally escaped, thanks to a serf uprising. I had become rather weary of Flashman’s period as a prisoner-of-war. Despite some of my problems with the novel, I cannot deny that "FLASHMAN AT THE CHARGE" is a well-written novel. Fraser did an excellent job in recapturing London during the early and mid 1850s and Great Britain’s pro-war mood on the cusp of the Crimean War. He also expertly drew readers into the world of the British Army during the first months of the war. His description of the Army caps and hospitals at Alma just before the Battle of Balaclava literally had me cringing in my seat a bit: "So the siege was laid, the French and ourselves sitting down on the muddy, rain-sodden gullied plateau before Sevastopol, the dismalest place on earth, with no proper quarters but a few poor huts and tents, and everything to be carted up from Balaclava on the coast eight miles away. Soon the camp, and the road to it, was a stinking quagmire; everyone looked and felt filthy, the rations were poor, the work of preparing the siege was cruel hard (for the men, anyway), and all the bounce there had been in the army after Alma evaporated in the dank, feverish rain by day and the biting cold by night. Soon half of us were lousy, as some wags said, who’d holiday at Brighton if he could come to sunny Sevastopol instead?" Another memorable passage featured Flashman’s participation in the Light Brigade Charge. Fraser did a superb job in describing not only the Battle of Balaclava, but particularly the Light Brigade Charge. I found his description of the famous military charge filled with heady action, chaos and terror – especially from Flashman’s point-of-view: "I had only a moment to look back – my mare was galloping like a thing demented, as I steadied, there was Cardigan, waving his sabre and standing in his stirrups; the guns were only a hundred yards away, almost hiddenin a great billowing bank of smoke, a bank which kept glaring red as though some Lucifer were opening furnace doors deep inside it. There was no turning, no holding back, and even in that deafening thunder I could hear the sudden chorus of yells behind me as the torn remnant of the Light Brigade gathered itself for the final mad charge into the battery. I dug my heels, yelling nonsense and brandishing my sabre, shot into the smoke with one final rip from my bowels and a prayer that my gallant little mare wouldn’t career headlong into a gun-muzzle, staggered at the fearful concussion of a gun exploding within a yard of me – and then we were through, into the open space behind the guns, leaping the limbers and ammunition boxes with the Russians scattering to let us through, and Cardigan a bare two yards away, reining his beast back almost on its haunches." However, one of my favorite chapters in the novel featured Flashman and the Kokordans’ attempts to destroy the Russian gunboats filled with weapons to be used against the Kokordans and the invasion of India. Before this battle took place, Ko Dali’s daughter drugged the cowardly officer with hashish (bhang) in order to force him to overcome his fear for the operation. The scene of the cowardly Flashy acting like George Armstrong Custer on crack struck me as one of the funniest passages in the entire series: "God, what a chaos it was! I was galloping like a dervish at Kutebar’s heels, roaring 'Hark forrard! Ha-ha, you bloody foreigners, Flashy’s here!', careering through the narrow spaces between the sheds, with the muskets banging off to our left, startled sleepers crying out, and everyone yelling like be-damned. As we burst headlong onto the last stretch of open beach, and swerved past the landward end of the pier, some stout Russian was bawling and letting fly with a pistol; I left off singing 'Rule, Britannia' to take a shot at him, but missed, and there ahead someone was waving a torch and calling, and suddenly there were dark figures all around us, clutching at our bridles, almost pulling us from the saddles towards a big go-down on the north side of the pier." George MacDonald Fraser did take historical liberties with one particular character – the novel’s main villain, Count Nicholas Ignatieff. The author described the Russian character in the following manner: "And as our eyes met through the cigarette smoke I thought, hollo, this is another of those momentous encounters. You didn’t have to look at this chap twice to remember him forever. It was the eyes, as it so often is – I thought in that moment of Bismarck, and Charity Spring, and Akbar Khan; it had been the eyes with them, too. But this fellow’s were different from anything yet: one was blue, but the other had a divided iris, half-blue, half-brown, and the oddly fascinating effect of this was that you didn’t know where to look, but kept shifting from one to the other. For the rest, he had a gingerish, curling hair and square, masterful face that was no way impaired by a badly-broken nose. He looked tough, and immensely self-assured; it was in his glance, in the abrupt way he moved, in the slant of the long cigarette between his fingers, in the rakish tilt of his peaked cap, in the immaculate white tunic of the Imperial Guards. He was the kind who knew exactly what was what, where everything was, and precisely who was who – especially himself. He was probably a devil with women, admired by his superiors, hated by his rivals, and abjectly feared by his subordinates. One word summed him up: bastard." The above passage described Flashman’s opinion of Ignatieff during their first meeting on the road to Starkosk. They met for the second time, when Flashman and "Scud" East overheard Ignatieff, Czar Nicholas I and other Russian officials discuss plans to invade India during a secret meeting at Starkosk. And their third and final encounter happened after Flashman was recaptured, following his escape from Starkosk and attempt to reach the British lines on the Crimean peninsula. It was Ignatieff who tossed Flashman into the prison at Fort Raim. From what I have read, the real Ignatieff had never been quite the villain as portrayed in "FLASHMAN AT THE CHARGE". Fraser even admitted that he taken liberties with the character in order to provide the novel with a main villain. Mind you, I believe he could have done that a lot easier with a fictional character. Why he had decided to take a historical figure and change his character in order to make him an effective villain is beyond me. After reading "FLASHMAN AT THE CHARGE", it is easy to see why it remains very popular with many fans of Fraser’s novels. It is a well written comic-adventure tale filled with interesting characters – fictional and historical. The novel also featured two very unique passages, namely the infamous Charge of the Light Brigade and the usually cowardly Flashman behaving in a brave and aggressive man during a major battle. "FLASHMAN AT THE CHARGE" also happened to be one of those rare Flashman novels that began and ended on a strong note. Not only does it remain popular with many Flashman fans, I personally consider it to be one of Fraser’s better works.

[zreakhai]

Z’rea’s New House

“What are you doing?”

Z’rea gasped at the sudden noise. She fell forward into the fence in front of her, dropping the spyglass that she had commandeered from Rhett’s house. “Gods damn it, Raena! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” she hissed quietly. She grabbed Z’raena by the arm and jerked her down behind the fence before peeking through the instrument down the road once more. She clicked her tongue and sighed, turning the spyglass over to inspect the glass at the end. “You cracked the damned lens, Raena. Rhett is going to kill you,” she warned as she tried in vain to rub the crack away with her shirt. She inspected it again and frowned. “I guess this will have to do,” she murmured to herself with a defeated huff before continuing her stakeout, a smirk soon returning to her lips as she watched the scene before her.

“What are you doing?” Z’raena repeated.

“Shhh! Stop being so fucking loud!” Z’rea scolded quietly. She held the spyglass up to Z’raena’s eye to reveal Cynric and Wolfie in a shoving match a ways down the path. Their heated argument was faint from where the two platinum blonde miqo’te sat crouched behind the fence to Z’rea’s house.

“What’d you get them to fight over? And why aren’t we moving in closer to get a better view of the ass kicking Wolfie is about to get?” Z’raena quietly asked with a grin.

“They are fighting because they are sweethearts,” Z’rea cooed happily. She adjusted the angle of the spyglass for Z’raena so she could see the trio of midlanders in the yard behind the highlanders’ ruckus. One older one, in business attire was scolding them as a young couple embraced and looked on nervously. “That is the third potential buyer this week that they have scared away!” Z’rea whispered excitedly.

“And the point of that is?” Z’raena asked, furrowing her brows in confusion.

“I am going to make it so that the seller has no choice but to sell it to me for next to nothing because the big scary men will have scared off every decent prospect,” Z’rea replied, absolutely beaming from her brilliant plan.

“And what happens when that realtor involves the authorities, hmm? You going to have Ol’ Wolfie and Cynric thrown in a cell because you want to live beyond your means?” Z’raena asked with a disapproving frown.

Z’rea snatched the spyglass from Z’raena and glared at her. “No!” she objected. “Nothing is going to happen to them! I have a plan…” She paused and eyed Z’raena up and down. “You and Talihn go get in cute bikinis. Some that make your tits go up to here.” She held her hand flat under her chin to indicate exactly how high their tits should go.

“And what exactly are tits going to solve in this little problem you have created for them?” Z’raena asked, nodding to the quarreling highlanders.

“Because, stupid, the guard will be too busy having a boner to actually do anything about the disturbance of peace. In fact, best have the twins join you.” Z’rea waved at Z’raena in dismissal, fully expecting her to go and follow her orders.

“No,” Z’raena said defiantly. “This is your issue. Why should I get involved?”

Z’rea glared at Z’raena, her tail twitching slighty to betray just how irritated she was. “Because, cunt,” she hissed through clenched teeth, “I wouldn’t need a bigger house if you and our cunt sisters hadn’t decided to invite yourselves to stay with me for the past eight godsdamned moons. If you don’t do this for me I swear to Azeyma herself I will cut your fucking ears off your stupid fucking head and force feed them to you.”

Z’raena flattened her ears and took a step back. She was aware of how far she could push Z’rea before she would react with violence, and the twitching of Z’rea’s tail indicated that she was about there. “Fine,” Z’raena relented with a sigh. “I’ll be right back.” Z’raena went into the small, overcrowded cottage to convince their sisters to follow Z’rea’s wishes.

*****

Eadmund Trotter sighed as the most recent prospective buyers vanished along the beach. That made three, just this week. Was this house cursed? He glared the other direction at the backs of the highlanders who had become such a thorn in his side. Well, he’d get the upper hand eventually.

“We’ll see how much the two of you argue when the watch is here,” Eadmund mumbled after the men, then grinned as he saw, beyond the two, a pair of red Maelstrom watch hats. “That must be them now.”

However, after waiting for several minutes, the watchmen hadn’t moved. Eadmund started down the street to investigate, only to find the watchmen had been waylaid by a quartet of scantily-clad miqo’te women, all with platinum-blonde hair and coy smiles. One of the girls fixed Eadmund with a sultry gaze and winked, then put her arm around one of the watchmen and led him back up the road, away.

“Shame, really,” the voice startled Eadmund, coming from immediately behind him. He spun, raising a fist to defend himself, to find the two highlander men standing uncomfortably close with hands on their belt knives. The shorter one was watching after the disappearing watch and shaking his head, clicking his tongue. “For a moment, there, they were almost within earshot.”

“Wha... what do you want?” Eadmund stammered, suddenly fearing for both his life and his dignity as he felt his bladder and bowels preparing to betray him.

“Simple,” the shorter man said, fixing his eyes on Eadmund. “Actually, nothing. That is, as long as you never summon the watch here again.” He shrugged and took his hand away from his knife. “It’d be a real tragedy, watching you try to sell houses with no tongue.”

“An withou’ a’ ear,” the other put in, his gravelly voice echoing in Eadmund’s head, promising nightmares for weeks to come. “Lucky fer ye, mis’er, they’d no’ be able ta see th’ res’ o’ wha’ we take.”

Eadmund stumbled backward, shaking, his bladder finally giving out. The big man took a quick step forward, bringing his rough face close. “Run,” he whispered.

Eadmund did so, no longer caring about the sale, the watch, or his dignity. He ran until he could no longer breathe. “Next buyer,” he swore under his breath. “I’ll sell no matter the price. To the Void with that house.”

*****

Early the next morning, Eadmund reluctantly returned to the house. He expected another day of hopeless attempts to coerce buyers, punctuated by the drunken brawls of a pair of highlander brutes. What he wasn’t expecting was the cute blonde miqo’te girl swaying her feet back and forth as she sat on some crates making moon eyes at the house.

“Hello there,” Eadmund called, startling the girl.

“Oh! Sorry!” the girl exclaimed. “I didn’t see you come up.” She was blushing, obviously embarrassed.

Eadmund shook his head, smiling, “No worries.” Taking a seat on the crates next to her, he nodded at the house. “Beautiful, isn’t it? Best location in the Mist, some would say.”

To his surprise, the girl nodded enthusiastically. “It’s my favorite house. I come and look at it every day,” then she sighed, looking at her boots. “Maybe someday,” she said, “I’ll be able to afford it. I’ve been saving for years, everything I have, but someone’s probably going to buy it and then…” she sighed again.

“How… how much do you have?” Eadmund asked, hardly daring to hope. The girl reached into her pouch and produced a bank balance note, handing it over to him. “This is a lot of money,” he whispered, handing it back. “Where’d you get that much?”

The girl looked up at him, her eyes large, a single tear threatening to break free from her lower lash and glide down her perfect cheek. “My …” she sniffed and wiped at the tear, “My parents left most of it to me. I worked for the rest.”

Eadmund sighed and looked at the note again. It was a lot of money, but not nearly what he’d hoped to get. Then again, he could offload the house now and never have to deal with it or those ruffians again. “Ok,” he finally said. “I’ll accept your offer.”

The girl looked up, stunned. “What?” she asked, still not comprehending his words.

Holding up the note for her to see, he fished into his pocket for a pen and some papers, along with the keys. He set everything on the crate between them, and handed the key to her. “If you want it, the house is yours. Just sign the note, and I’ll sign the deed,” he indicated the papers and the pen.

He held his breath, watching as the girl put ink to the note. Her hand trembled a little, but the signature was strong and legible. He then took the pen and note from her, signed the deed with a quick flourish, and offered his hand. “Congratulations,” he paused to check the name on the note again, “Congratulations, Z’rea Khai! You are the proud owner of your dream home. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to take this to the housing caretaker and then the bank.”

The girl stood there, deed and key in hand, stunned and watching him leave. Only when he was really and truly gone was the awestruck, stunned look replaced by an almost wicked grin. Z’rea barely resisted the urge to let out a whoop of joy as she turned and looked upon her new house.

((Ty @zrhetttia-ffxiv for helping me write it, and ty @kailani-ffxiv for giving me a couple of ideas!))

[unwrathful]

Title: A True Prince Author: booksindalibrary Rating: T Pairing: Enma/Tsuna Prompt: Sun Day - secret relationship for @khrrarepairweek Tags/Warnings: none :3c

Summary:

Tsuna's happy with Enma by his side. Infactuation (n): an intense but short-lived passion or admiration for someone or something.

AO3 link.

Tsuna was well-known in the streets of his country. Where he walked, the crowds parted. Whether they knew who he was or not wasn't the point; it was his presence that caused it, one that radiated a gentle heat.

At one point he was the loyal youngest son to Nono. How he'd serve the family head with all the honour and power–few mentioned his resemblance to Primo, that subject having been banned.

His three cousins had all died–killed in a mafia war. Tsuna had grieved, along with the rage that built up in Xanxus.

Then Xanxus lead a coup, and was subsequently imprisoned. Tsuna didn't know where he was kept, but he doubted any prison would keep Xanxus away for long. In Xanxus's absence, Tsuna was made the heir to Vongola.

A true prince, they called him. He smiled at everyone unabashedly, even when surrounded by his guardians, each brought from all over the world to swear fealty and lay down their lives. Some of them won't, of course, or at least Tsuna doubts it. Even when Xanxus broke out, and rallied forces around his banner, Tsuna kept smiling. People noted how his features became more strained, how tired his eyes looked, but he remained strong.

Xanxus was imprisoned again, but this time he swore he wouldn't rebel, for so long as Tsuna stuck by his conditions. Those conditions are a secret-

“He's in this movie,” Gokudera said to Tsuna, and Tsuna peered at the screen.

“A major role this time,” he said with satisfaction. “Even I've heard of the book it's based on.”

“Juudaime.” Gokudera met his gaze seriously. “You won't be able to meet him for a while. He's touring and promoting.”

Tsuna looked out the window of the car, watching the houses go by. “I know.”

At the sad look, Gokudera flinched. “Sorry, Juudaime.”

“Don't be,” Tsuna said, surprised. “I can meet him when he comes to Vongola for promotional work.”

Gokudera hesitated, then nodded. “I'll get Chrome to set up a meeting between you two.”

“Thanks,” Tsuna said gratefully.

“Tsuna,” Enma said, and Tsuna beamed at him.

Enma smiled back, reaching out to touch his shoulder. “It's been a while.”

“Mm.” Tsuna was staring at Enma, an awed look on his face.

Chrome looked away, embarrassed to be seeing such an open expression on Tsuna's face, and Gokudera coughed. “We'll be outside,” he said, jerking his head at the door. The couple seemingly didn't hear them as they left, still staring at each other.

“How was filming?” Tsuna asked, sitting. Enma joined him and took his hand, fiddling with one of the rings.

“It was great,” he said. “I met a lot of good people.” Enma tested his head on Tsuna's shoulder.

“None better than me, I hope,” Tsuna joked. “I saw the trailers. Your role looks like it's the highlight.”

Enma huffed. “You say that every time.”

“It's the truth.”

“I know you think that,” Enma said, trying to sound stern. Instead he said it with a smile and a warm tone. “I don't agree.”

“Too bad. I outrank you,” Tsuna said haughtily, then the facade dissolved when he looked at Enma again. “Sorry I can't stay longer,” he said apologetically, shifting to get up.

“Don't worry,” Enma said reassuringly. “I know you're a busy man, and we have to keep this a secret, right? For the sake of our sanity.”

“I'm sorry,” he said again anyway, smoothing down his tuxedo. “And I'm just worried about your career, is all. If people found out, you'd be a target.”

Enma was quiet for a moment. “I'd risk that for you.”

“I love you,” Tsuna said.

“Love you too,” Enma replied.

“I'm off,” Tsuna said.

“See you later,” Enma replied, a little too sweetly.

Tsuna didn't notice.

The announcement of Tsuna's marriage came as a shock. But it took the country into a fervour, and the world loved the idea that a Japanese boy, an ordinary boy with an ordinary background, and an ordinary career, could be loved by the prince of one of the most powerful countries in the world.

“Why did you tell everyone?” Tsuna asked Gokudera, a little petulantly.

“Juudaime, I'm sorry, it was a publicity thing.”

“Publicity?” Tsuna frowned. “Who did you have to win over?”

“There's some people claiming the monarchy's cold to the common classes,” Gokudera explained. “This was to settle them, even for just a little bit.”

“So to do that, you decide to throw open my secret relationship for the world to see?” Tsuna sighed. “I get my life isn't my own, but this sucks.”

“Juudaime...”

“Don't apologise,” Tsuna waved it down. “In a way, this is great. I get to be with Enma all the time.”

Gokudera smiled at the sheer delight that was beaming from Tsuna's face.

The wedding was perfect.

Tsuna was practically bursting. Enma smiled once at Tsuna, and everyone thought Tsuna was going to pass out.

When Enma stepped up to the altar, Tsuna whispered that Enma looked amazing. Enma flushed, then looked a little surprised when Tsuna continued with, I'm so nervous.

Enma took Tsuna's hand and squeezed it reassuringly. Tsuna knew he'd be strongest with Enma by his side.

“What do you mean?” Tsuna asked, as he was getting ready to leave. They had a function to attend, Tsuna thought distractedly. Names to remember and faces to recognise.

“I'm sorry,” Enma said. “But I mean it.” The seriousness of his tone was enough to make Tsuna pause.

“You don't mean it,” Tsuna said, stepping forward. He was wearing his suit, and Enma was wearing a hoodie and jeans. Why, Tsuna wanted to ask, why wasn't he dressed to see the town?

“I can't handle this,” Enma said, trying to make Tsuna understand. “I can't – deal with the people staring and watching my every move, I can't handle the pressure of the monarchy. I just – can't.”

“Enma-” Tsuna had to pause to recollect his thoughts. “You don't have to do this any more, but please, divorcing me can't be the answer.”

“It can be,” Enma said flatly.

“Okay, it can be,” he conceded. “But that doesn't mean – it hasn't been that long.”

“Three years,” Enma said quietly. “Three years of this shit.”

Tsuna had to blink at the word. Enma swore? This isn't right. “Look, my love-”

“Three years of pretending to love a coward like you,” Enma continued. “Three years pretending to give two fucks about some prissy prince who needs help wiping his own arse, three years smiling and saying I love you every fuckin' morning.”

Why wasn't Enma yelling? Instead the words were like a hiss of gas, to suffocate Tsuna. One spark, Tsuna thought dazedly, and he would explode.

Please let him explode.

“Are you saying you were pretending to love me?” Tsuna asked.

“This whole time.”

“Why? Why would you even think of pretending?”

“Thanks to you, my fame's high enough that I can get any acting job I want,” Enma said, and Tsuna hated the look of scorn of Enma's face.

No. No no no no nonono-

“The world loves me, and they'll understand I couldn't deal with this,” he continued.

Please. Make him stop. Please, God, let this be a dream.

“That's why I see no point in staying with you,” Enma finished. Tsuna found out what it was like to stabbed, as he fell to his knees, gaping at the love of his life. Enma only met his gaze with the coldest eyes Tsuna's ever seen, and Enma left.

“I should get an award for that,” Enma commented.

Reborn smiled. “Associating with the fallen royals would be detrimental to Vongola. I'm glad you saw it my way.”

“I am too,” Enma agreed.

“And this way, Varia'll stop trying to go after Tsuna. Especially since your relationship was a direct breach of the contract.”

“So? The Varia turn out to be shit.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“Of course I am. Because of their incompetence, I had to pretend for three years.”

“Three years,” Reborn echoed. He shot a look at Enma. “The tears on your face beg to differ.”

Enma looked back at Reborn. “I mean it. I was acting. It was all an act. To test him. You set us up. That's it.”

“Of course,” Reborn lied, putting a hand on Enma's shoulder. “This was all my fault.”

“Juudaime,” Gokudera said in surprise, when he found Tsuna sitting at the window.

“Gokudera,” Tsuna said distractedly.

“Are you feeling all right?”

Tsuna turned slightly, to look at Gokudera from the corner of his eye. “I had a nightmare.” He hesitated. “I heard Reborn.”

Gokudera tensed. “Your former tutor?”

“He was saying it was all his scheme, to test my heart. I guess I failed.”

“Test? What kind of fucked up test would that be?”

Tsuna didn't reply.

Each day hurt, but Tsuna got used to it.

Each day was agony, but Enma got used to it.

Each day was a lie, and Reborn never got used to it, no matter how much he claimed it didn't hurt to think he drove his pupil into the bowels of depression.

He's still alive, and that's all that matters. Right?

It was just a passing infactuation, right?

(Are you happy yet?)

[theapprenticecinna]

Let’s talk about Imposter Syndrome for a minute.

That feeling of “I’m not good enough, I don’t deserve this, I shouldn’t be doing this thing that I love and have worked hard for.” We don’t believe our loved ones when they tell us that actually, yes, we do deserve this, we are good at it. We don’t believe strangers when they tell us “Wow, you did this? This is really good.” We don’t believe our own brains when we look in awe at a thing we created and see that it is beautiful and worthy and wonder how it’s possible that such a lovely thing exists, and that it exists because we made it.

But we do believe the people who tell us we aren’t any good, don’t deserve this, shouldn’t be doing this. Why do we do that? Why do we listen to the people who don’t matter, and not to those who do?

I want to tell a story. It’ll be long, it’ll be self-indulgent, but it has a purpose, so stick with me.

I’ve always liked to write, but I’m not sure anyone I went to school with even knew I wrote. Because I didn’t tell anyone. Because I feared criticism.

In college, I signed up for a creative writing class because it fulfilled a requirement. That professor did not have one kind or constructive word to say to me that entire semester. I did pass the class, but only because, as he told me, it was an intro class, and he could only grade on effort. “While you’re a technically competent writer,” he wrote on my final story, “you lack the talent needed to write fiction, and that can’t be taught.”

I left class in tears and vowed to never write anything ever again.

The following year, Jennifer Crusie did a writing workshop and book signing. I went, because I wanted to get my copy of her latest novel signed. I sat through the workshop, I took notes I knew I’d never use because I wasn’t ever going to write anything, and at the end I made my way to the signing table. I introduced myself, and Jenny asked, “Are you a writer?”

“No,” I said, my face burning. “No, I’m not a writer.” I’m technically competent, but I lack talent.

She looked at me, smiled, and said, “Yes, you are. I can see it in your eyes.” She signed my book, handed it back, and I left the room with my hands shaking because what even was that? When I looked at the inscription she left me, I wanted to cry. “Best of luck with your writing.”

I lack talent.

That was in 2004. By 2009, I’d forgotten both of these incidents had ever occurred, and I got it into my head that I would do NaNoWriMo, because I thought maybe it would keep me occupied while I sat there bored at work with literally nothing else to do.

It was a disaster. I started with an idea that quickly fell apart (I lack talent) and I didn’t know how to get myself back on track (I lack talent). So I made my goal “write 50,000 words” instead of “write something good”, and I met the goal, and then I immediately deleted the file and pretended it never existed (I lack talent).

Over the next few years, I would sometimes have a scene pop into my head unbidden and with no greater context, and it would sit there and poke at me until I let it out. I’d write it down, password-protect the file, and stick it in a cryptically-named folder in the bowels of my computer. I told no one I was doing this, not even my husband. I just wrote my scenes, then hid them like porn under the mattress. 

I eventually moved on from writing random scenes to writing fan fiction for a story-based fitness app called Zombies, Run! And one day I wrote a piece that just flowed out of my fingers with zero effort; something that, when I read back over it, barely needed any editing or revision; something that, when I read back over it, gave me chills and made me tear up.

I did this. I wrote this.

I showed it to my best friend. “This is really good,” he said. “Like, really good.”

I showed it to my husband. “This is really good,” he said. “Like, really good.”

I sat on it for a few months. Read over it weekly. And then finally, one day, I published it. I’m still not sure what possessed me to do it. But the ZR fandom is small and lovely and supportive, and I felt safe there.

And people liked it. One commenter told me my writing style is “quite strong and distinct”. No, I thought, that implies talent. Which I lack.

But in spite of my doubts, I published a few more chapters, a couple of standalone stories. The comments kept coming in. “I’m so glad this exists.” “This is really really good.” “I can’t wait to read more.” “Really well written and engaging.”

But…don’t I…lack talent?

I discovered a new mobile game, The Arcana, and published a two-chapter one-off. It’s a small fandom, I figured people wouldn’t mind something new to read even if it was just a silly fluff piece.

“You. Are amazing...just. brilliant!!!!!…you brilliant, fantastic author you.”

Author? I’m not an author. I’m not really even a writer.

“This is the best arcana fic I have ever read. You are amazing. I can't wait for the new chapters.”

I had no plans to write more chapters. But I read that, and I thought about it, and I opened up Scrivener, and suddenly I had three more chapters. They need some polishing before they’re ready for publication, but they’re written, and I have more in my head that can’t wait to escape.

I spent the better part of a decade not writing, because one person—one professor, who didn’t know me, who gave me no guidance and shitty writing prompts that didn’t inspire me, who never once offered me a single ounce of constructive criticism—told me that I lacked talent.

I didn’t listen to a writer I truly look up to when she said that yes, I am a writer, and wished me luck with it.

I didn’t believe my friends and family when they read my stuff and said it was good.

I ignored my own damn self when I read something I wrote and it brought me to tears.

All because one man told me I wasn’t any good.

Imposter Syndrome is a real bitch, and this is where we exit my self-indulgent memoir and talk about why I’m writing this. I’m writing this for you. You, the person reading this, who may be sitting there thinking you aren’t good enough, that no one will like what you create, that you shouldn’t even bother doing it.

Do it.

Please, please do it. Don’t let that voice in your head win. Don’t let that one comment you got online stop you from doing what you love. Don’t let that asshole professor take a decade of creating away from you.

You sit down, and you create. And if what you create doesn’t make you happy? You put it in a folder on your computer or in a drawer in your desk, and you start something new. You may be able to come back to it later and see what needs to be fixed. You may be able to come back to it later and laugh because wow, I was right to set this one aside, because look how good the other stuff is compared to it. You may need something to set fire to one day in a cathartic “fuck you, Imposter Syndrome” ritual.

You go write your story, or sing your song, or paint your picture. You go do it, and if you are comfortable with it, you send it to me so I can tell you how wonderful you are. Because creativity is a tiny spark that is so easy to snuff out, and so hard to build up, and every bit of creativity deserves to be built up and up and up. Don’t be an ember. Don’t be a flame. Be a goddamn supernova, and show this world what you can do.

Because you? Are brilliant. And don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.

[aros001]

First time read through light novel vol. 12. Random thoughts.

Right off the bat and I love this illustration

of the aftermath of Subaru's various deaths. Just at a look and you're able to tell which loop and death it was. From left to right:

After the Witch Cult slaughters Emilia, the mansion, and villagers and Puck goes out to destroy the world. Though not sure if this is the loop where Puck and Subaru got to talk or it this is a loop before that.

Rem tortures and Ram mercy kills Subaru, likely lying and covering up their actions afterwards to Emilia.

Rem dies from the Shaman's curse and Subaru commits suicide, unfortunately doing so right in front of Beatrice and Ram.

Elsa murders Subaru and Emilia. Subaru's very first death.

Subaru is possessed by Petelgeuse and has to be put down.

I wasn't sure about this one at first but later in the book seems to imply this is after Subaru killed himself after Rem fell into a coma.

Echidna speculated that Subaru's save points were based just on what'd help him be most likely to overcome whatever killed him and that Satella likely didn't care about anyone else in his life. But with the black shadow devouring everything, save for Garfiel, and seemingly heading for the mansion next, I wouldn't be surprised if Satella actually is choosing the points that get rid of others who are important to Subaru so she can have his love all to herself. Rem's in a coma and Subaru can't go back further to save her from that fate and the only reason Emilia is still around is because a lot of the events that kill her tend to also kill Subaru, like Elsa and the Witch Cult, so her death wouldn't exist in a timeline where Subaru also gets to live. In arc 3 Subaru's save point was set after he and Emilia had that big fight and went their separate ways. I wouldn't be surprised if Satella set that point specifically because the two were driven apart and she didn't want Subaru to get a do-over.

Watching Ram, Ryuzu, and all the other people he cared about get swallowed whole, vanishing within the shadow.

But even after so many precious people were stolen from him, Garfiel refused to use revenge as an excuse to throw all decency aside. He wouldn’t tolerate any talk about a victory that involved sacrificing Subaru.

I like to think this is a little bit of a callback to some of Subaru's loops during arc 3, specifically when he was so lost in his selfishness and later his rage at the Witch Cult's massacres that he was somewhat blinded to everyone else and was throwing away his decency; something Garfiel is refusing to do. Again, I don't mind that Subaru has had moments where he's not a good person and has very serious character flaws because the story is about him continuously growing into a better person.

“In this world, when I heard ‘I love you’ spoken seriously to me for the first time...it gave me, an unredeemable bastard, enough power to make me think I could become a hero.”

He was a piece of garbage, twisted down, broken, and ready to flee from everything, but those words had made him believe he could face the future head-on, never giving in—to challenge it once more, over and over, however many times that it took.

As sad as I am that Rem's not in the story anymore aside from being a near lifeless husk, I am glad that her importance on the story and Subaru specifically is still strong. Honestly, all shipping aside, I'm mostly upset that, because of the coma, all of Rem's character development has pretty much been put on hold. I was enjoying seeing her grow and the ways she was reacting to events in the story. For the audience, having her be in a coma is maybe worse than her being killed because there's that hope she'll come back and you're continuously waiting for her to do so; waiting for that part of the story to be allowed to continue.

What could he say, what should he say, that would rub the Witch the worst way? There was no one better armed to get under someone else’s skin than Subaru. So he knew.

Accordingly, Subaru gave a shallow, cruel laugh, turning a look of scorn toward the Witch.

“—I’d rather love Echidna and the other Witches than you.”

...Yeah, that oughta do it. Seriously though, I almost felt all the sound go out in the world at reading that line, that's how much of an "Ohhhhh shit." moment it was, with there being nothing Subaru could have said to piss the witch off more.

I suppose Satella (and Subaru) consuming and becoming one with everything can relate to envy. No need to be envious of what others have when you are both them and what they possess.

He had seen the Witch’s face in the moment just prior to Return by Death —and it was the same face as Emilia’s. After straddling death to come back, he had dragged along a fear of the Witch that stuck with him.

It's temporary but I do like this. For a moment Subaru is in a similar position as those who naturally live in this world. He knows that Emilia is not the Witch of Envy, just as most people in the world could obviously understand, but because of the strong resemblance (and Satella possessing Emilia's body) he can't not see Satella when he looks at her and feel that fear. Obviously it's still wrong to have that prejudice against Emilia and other half-elves whom have done nothing to harm anyone but having even Subaru feel that fear, even for just a moment, does make it very understandable why the people of this world have trouble letting go of it.

I know this is bothering me more than it should and it's not a criticism towards the series, but I always feel bad that Subaru has this perception around him of being a little bit of a crybaby, or at least easily upset and needing to be soothed. Don't get me wrong, I make no demands that the MC always be seen all ultra-masculine manly but from the perspective of others it does seem like Subaru breaks down easily. In the mansion arc with Subaru working himself sick and crying into Emilia's lap to the White Whale arc where Subaru gave up and asked Rem to run away with him to now where Emilia is needing to comfort him inside Echidna's tomb. We the audience know these breakdowns are VERY well deserved after the horrors Subaru has been through and he really needs the comfort, but the other characters don't know and it just looks like he's cracking over nothing. I like Subaru and it sucks that he keeps getting seen as a bit of a crybaby, especially in front of the woman he loves. Emilia doesn't make a big deal of it and Subaru has done plenty to prove his worth and bravery before, but I still can't help but feel a little bad for the guy.

I'm wondering if there's an implication that Emilia's doing better during this loop is because she now feels she's fighting/being strong for Subaru? Kind of like how Subaru has found strength in fighting for her and the others he cares about.

“I did think about it, so I asked Ram to keep him occupied. In the meantime, it’s a date between you and me, Ryuzu.”

“I am unsure what it is you mean by dayte...but I cannot defy you at this point, Young Su. You may do with me and the girl here as you wish.”

“That’s giving in a little too much!"

What is with people continuously thinking Subaru wants to defile them?! Is it the eyes? (It's probably the eyes)

I've heard tales before that Subaru comes to be known as the Lolimancer. Given he now has authority over Ryuzu and a practical army of replicas, I can kind of see that. And it's glorious. Nothing crushes your enemy quite like their opponent throwing a little girl that them...and winning.

Then, after a momentary pause, she slowly nodded and said, “—Ahhh, I understand now. Betty is probably entrusting you with her final moment because...”

Once he heard the answer, there was no going back. —He was certain of it.

And yet, his decision came too late. He had realized too late. It was too late for everything.

“—Sorry to intrude mid-conversation, but...”

A voice he should not have heard spoke. Hastened by a terrible chill, Subaru flipped around.

Then he saw her.

“—Is it all right if I become That Person for you, I wonder?”

Carrying a black curved blade in her hand—a kukri knife—the black- clothed Bowel Hunter stood at the archive’s entrance.

F**K! OFF! ELSA!

Crystal arrows were thrust through her entire body, half of it shattered like inorganic matter. Such was Elsa’s death.

THAT'S WHAT YOU GET, BITCH!

Beatrice’s eyebrows fell as she let out a breath of instantaneous relief, forming a thin smile in the process.

—The tip of a black blade was poking out of her chest.

“—My, what an odd feeling in the hand. A spirit’s belly really is different.”

DAMMIT!

“The letter...that’s right. I wrote a letter. I wrote everything on it, that’s why. I really meant to tell you about everything, but...”

“Tee-hee.”

Ohhhhhhhh no, that's never a good sign. Dark tomb dedicated to a witch, everything else outside going wrong, and Emilia just gives a little giggle like that, talking about how lonely she was and how much she loves him? She didn't even comment on how he's MISSING AN EYE.

Funny enough, for this part I am being reminded of a reaction I had while reading the Goblin Slayer light novels. "Oh, thank goodness this character was only severely beaten and about to be sacrificed to summon a demon old god into the world." "Oh, thank goodness. Emilia's not possessed or under some terrible curse. She's just cracked from mental strain and trauma." It's just one of those times where I have to take a moment and think about what kind of series I'm reading where I'm relieved a major character has only gone insane.

It is kind of cool how she's in a way going through a similar experience as Subaru has. Repeatedly going through a continuous loop of failures she can't overcome but feels she has to for the sake of others, until she finally just hits her breaking point.

I do like how even just Roswaal talking about RBD is enough for the witch to grasp Subaru's heart, even though Roswaal figured it all out on his own. I'm also glad I saw the "Memory Snow" OVA because it does add a nice (and really messed up) layer to Roswaal's manipulations. That even a happy and completely innocent time like that, seeming to exist for no other reason than to give the audience a nice breather before arc 3, was something he figured out how to use to his advantage. It makes him feel like even more of a devious bastard, that he'll be taking such a pleasant and pure memory and using it to get the villagers to fear Emilia.

“The current you is insufficient to bring about the future indicated in the text. Any discrepancy with that recorded requires a correction.”

That makes me curious about how specifically the book works. Before Roswaal and Beatrice were making it sound like the book foretold futures that would happen no matter what, but this line implies that Subaru currently is unable to make that future come to pass, making it sound more like the book describes the specific ways required to make the foretold future happen. Then again, Subaru isn't from this world, so is he maybe somewhat exempt from the book's prophecies? Or is he a requirement for fulfilling them? Roswaal caught on to Subaru's looping because of the book, but how? Is the future changing every time Subaru loops and because Roswaal has read ahead he knew what the future originally was and thus noticed when it changed? Subaru also speculates that Roswaal has the ability to inherit memories like Echidna and thus he can remember the previous timelines, but I feel like he'd be able to understand that the loops were caused by Subaru dying then, since that's the common trait among all of them. Roswaal also says there's no point in talking about thing since he will not be the same Roswaal Subaru meets when he loops again, so I'm assuming that means he can't inherit memories or the new Roswaal, while not the same as the previous loop, would remember his and Subaru's conversation and be able to continue it.

So to recap:

Rem, Petra, and Frederica are murdered after Subaru sent them to the village to keep them safe

He has to watch as Elsa murders a suicidal Beatrice

Elsa cuts out his left eye

He's caught in a harsh snowstorm wearing only a ripped up tracksuit

Emilia, the woman he loves, has a mental breakdown

Roswaal murders Ram and Garfiel right in front of him and admits he deliberately drove Emilia into isolation

Roswaal tortures Subaru in order to try and get him to loop

Rabbits eat Roswaal alive right in front of Subaru and likely are doing the same to the rest of Sanctuary, save for those whom chose suicide by fire rather than being eaten

The replicas are killed defending Subaru under his orders and he still got half-mauled in the process

His first kiss was at the very moment of his death by an insane Emilia

All in all, today's been something of a bummer for Subaru, hasn't it?

In all seriousness though, SOMEONE GIVE THE MAN A HUG!!!

And let's just keep the pain train rolling with Subaru being shown the aftermath of his death after Rem fell into a coma. Seriously, that was heart wrenching, between Emilia's sobbing to Wilhelm's desperation to save him and unable to understand how someone he genuinely respected could take his own life like that.

I kind of suspected this already given the first trial made Subaru confront his past, or at least a version of it, but now with the second trial being "the unknowable present" I'm assuming the three trials are based around past, present, and future respectively.

“—Goodness, can you even stand anymore? Subaru.”

...

For she was the girl who knew Subaru was not strong yet had said to him anyway, “I love you.”

“—Rem.”

“Yes. I am Subaru’s Rem.”

REM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I don't care if it's the Witch of Lust trying to trick him, the story made me need that as much as Subaru did.

“If I was stronger, if I was wiser, if I was a man who could do more...no one would have to suffer, to be sad, to go through hard times like that...”

It would have been so much better if Subaru had been strong enough to do everything, all of it, alone.

Emilia’s sadness, Beatrice’s loneliness, the calamity befalling Petra and Frederica, the menace of the Great Rabbit, Garfiel, who was desperately protecting something... He should have been able to do...something.

Everything, all of it, every last bit of it was Subaru’s fault.

That was why, to balance out his weakness, Subaru had to pay by shaving away his life. —That was what he’d thought, and yet...

“Have I saved...anyone...?”

“Subaru.”

“If those worlds continued after my death, how many times I have I abandoned everyone to die?”

“Subaru.”

“How many times...did I make you die? How many times...do I have to kill you?”

Seriously, why do so many people hate Subaru? And I'm not talking about in-story, I'm talking about how often I see people online just crapping on the guy and really just having such firm dislike for the character. Yeah, he has a bad tendency to shove his foot into his mouth, especially early on, and he most certainly has been selfish and entitled. But he's continuously growing, continuously being made to face his faults and try to overcome them. Most important, at the end of the day he's just a guy who doesn't want anything bad to happen to the people he loves and he tries despite how utterly powerless he is, holding himself to his failures to the point of self-destructiveness. He's far from perfect but he's a good guy who's being continuously pushed to be a better one.

“I’ll show you my weakness. I’ll show you my vulnerabilities. I’ll even show you how I’m a petty, irredeemable bastard. —But the one thing I won’t show you is me giving up.”

Rem had once said...Subaru was her hero.

And Subaru Natsuki had decided to be Rem’s hero.

Again, I don't dislike Emilia at all. I don't even dislike the idea of her and Subaru as a couple, since I can clearly see why Subaru loves her and why Emilia is likely falling for him. But these books have most certainly done nothing to temper how much I love the Subarem ship. How important Rem is to him not only helping to pull Subaru out of his despair over his long string of failures but also how much he wants to be the man she sees him as breaking him out of the Rem-deception. I'm not sure if what I said makes any sense but it's beautiful nonetheless!

The funny thing about Echidna's idea for potential immortality, hopping from one body to the next, is that it's an idea I feel like I've seen many times in fiction and yet I'm drawing a blank on many specific examples. I'm curious if implanting memories into a new vessel is how her tomb works, like she placed herself literally into her tomb and thus why her dream castle exists even after her death?

I am really enjoying Echidna so far. You know Subaru probably shouldn't trust her but she's very good at making herself someone you kind of want to trust. While it's a bit grey to say if she is an outright villain, I think she makes for a very good one.

I feel like I may have a misunderstanding of how Beatrice's pact works. She's to guard the library of forbidden books and sometimes the story makes it sound like she can't leave it, or at least can't leave the mansion, but she has left it a few times now, the furthest being Subaru's suicide jump of the cliff. So is it the overall estate she can't leave or that she can only exit the grounds on certain conditions? Because she and Subaru did have a pact when he went to the cliff.

Next volume should prove interesting, given Subaru seems like he's going to form a pact with Beatrice and Satella just showed up for the tea party. Next volume comes on sale on July 21, so I've got a couple of weeks to wait, unless anyone is aware of any websites that've translated the light novels (not web novels) like Overlord and Konosuba have.

Original Reddit post: https://www.reddit.com/r/Re_Zero/comments/ho60yc/novels_first_time_read_through_light_novel_vol_12/

[xtruss]

Uncovering Boarding School History Makes For Monumental Task

By Susan Montoya Bryan | Thursday July 15, 2021

ALBUQUERQUE, N.M. (AP) — They sat inside a dust-covered box that had been stashed away, untouched, for years: black-and-white photographs of Apache students who were among the first sent to a New Mexico boarding school bankrolled by East Coast parishioners and literary fans.

The first showed the girls bundled in blankets with moccasins on their feet. The next, taken just weeks later, was starkly different, the children posing in plaid uniforms, high-laced boots and wide-brimmed straw hats.

Adjunct history professor Larry Larrichio said he stumbled upon the 1885 photos while researching a military outpost and immediately recognized their significance.

The images represented the systematic attempt by the U.S. government, religious organizations and other groups to assimilate Indigenous youth into white society by removing them from their homes and shipping them off to boarding school. The effort spanned more than a century and is now the focus of what will be a massive undertaking by the U.S. government as it seeks to uncover the troubled legacy of the nation’s policies related to Native American boarding schools, where reports of physical and sexual abuse were widespread.

“When I pulled that photo out, it just brought a tear to my eye. I looked at the faces of these beautiful Apache girls in their Native attire and then those ugly American bonnets,” said Larrichio, a research associate with the Latin American and Iberian Institute at the University of New Mexico. “It just knocked me on my butt.”

The U.S. Interior Department has started combing through records in hopes of identifying past boarding schools and the names and tribes of students. The project also will try to determine how many children perished while attending those schools and were buried in unmarked graves.

As part of an effort that began years earlier, the disinterred remains of nine Native American children who died more than a century ago while attending a government-run school in Pennsylvania were handed over to relatives during a ceremony Wednesday so they could be returned to Rosebud Sioux tribal lands in South Dakota.

Interior Secretary Deb Haaland, a member of Laguna Pueblo and the first Native American to lead a Cabinet agency, has promised a comprehensive review while acknowledging it would be a painful and difficult process.

Larrichio’s discovery hints at the immensity of the challenge, as each bit of new information leads down another avenue that needs to be researched.

While some records are kept by the agency and the National Archives, most are scattered across jurisdictions — from the bowels of university archives, like those Larrichio found, to government offices, church archives, museums and personal collections.

That’s not to mention whatever records were lost or destroyed over the years.

The National Native American Boarding School Healing Coalition has been working to amass information about the schools for almost a decade. With the help of grant funding and the work of independent researchers across the country, the Minnesota-based group has identified nearly 370 schools and estimates hundreds of thousands of Native American children passed through them between 1869 and the 1960s.

“It’s going to be a monumental task, and the initiative that was launched by the Interior is great, but it’s a short timeline and we’ll need further investigation,” said Christine Diindiisi McCleave, the group’s CEO and a citizen of the Turtle Mountain Ojibwe Nation.

The coalition knows firsthand how difficult uncovering the truth will be. The group years ago filed public records requests with the federal government for information about the schools. The government didn’t have answers, Diindiisi McCleave said.

Of the schools identified by the group so far, she said records have been found for only 40% of them. The whereabouts of the rest are unknown.

What is known from the research and from family accounts is that there were children who never made it home.

With the Interior Department taking a first formal step to uncover more about the history, Diindiisi McCleave and others are renewing their push for a federal commission to be established in the U.S., much like one created in Canada, where the remains of more than 1,000 children were discovered in recent weeks at residential schools there.

In the United States, the Indian Civilization Act of 1819 and other laws and policies were enacted to establish and support Indian boarding schools across the nation. For over 150 years, Indigenous children were taken from their communities and forced into boarding schools that focused on assimilation.

The discoveries in Canada and the renewed spotlight in the U.S. have stirred strong emotions among tribal communities, including grief, anger, reflection and a deep desire for healing.

Indigenous students of the Ramona Industrial School in Santa Fe. (AP Photo/Susan Montoya Bryan)

Haaland, Diindiisi McCleave and New Mexico Indian Affairs Secretary Lynn Trujillo have all recounted stories about their grandparents being sent away to boarding schools. They talk about the intergenerational trauma that was triggered by the experience and the effects that have manifested themselves on younger generations seeking to maintain their language and cultural practices, which were banned in boarding schools.

For some families, the boarding school experience was a forbidden topic, never to be talked about.

For others, the recent attention has spurred fresh conversations. Trujillo talked about her grandmother being taken when she was 6 and telling stories about how she was always so hungry and cold.

Trujillo said while her grandmother made it home, unlike other children, that experience shaped who she was.

“Our communities and Indigenous people have known about these atrocities for a very long time, but being able to bring them to light and talk about them — no matter how painful — is part of that process toward healing,” said Trujillo, a member of Sandia Pueblo who has been focused on bringing together Indigenous youth to highlight the need for more mental health resources and educational opportunities.

For Diindiisi McCleave, moving forward with healing will require more research, data and understanding.

“The biggest part of the work starts with the truth, and that includes not only truth from the federal government in this case and the churches that ran the schools, but hearing the truth from the perspective of the people who experienced it, listening to the testimony of survivors and descendants and understanding the full scope and impact of these experiences,” she said.

Experts say the list of known boarding schools — and burial sites — will only expand as more grassroots research sheds light on schools that have otherwise been lost to history.

Already some researchers have spent years piecing together records, old newspaper reports and oral histories to find and identify lost children. Others have searched properties using ground-penetrating radar. Some state agencies that focus on Indigenous affairs are considering launching investigations into known schools.

The Interior Department said it’s working on ways to “create a safe space,” such as a hotline or special website where people can share information about the schools and seek resources.

Students who attended the Ramona Industrial School in Santa Fe. (AP Photo/Susan Montoya Bryan)

In New Mexico, the Ramona Industrial School for Indian Girls opened in the mid-1880s and housed mostly Apache students, many of whom had parents who were being held prisoner by the U.S. Army at Fort Union, about 100 miles (160 kilometers) away.

Not far from Santa Fe’s historic plaza, the school was founded by Horatio Ladd, a congregational minister who contracted with the military to send Indigenous students there. The endeavor was supported by parishioners and admirers of author and activist Helen Hunt Jackson through fundraising newsletters and postcards.

Larrichio was working on a project for the National Park Service years ago when he happened upon brochures and other documents related to the school. It was a monthslong effort that involved combing through hundreds of archival collections at the Center for Southwest Research at the University of New Mexico.

With only brief references in books on other subjects, the school is an example of the difficult work facing the Interior Department as it embarks on its investigation. While Larrichio is sharing the materials he uncovered with the National Native American Boarding School Healing Coalition, he said “it’s the tip of the iceberg,” and much more work needs to be done.

“A lot of this information is probably buried — literally buried with respect to this collection I uncovered,” he said. “How many other stories are buried, and how much was purposefully destroyed? I think it’s going to be very hard to really get a comprehensive understanding of the impact of this.”