#at least to ferry SORRY YEP ITS ABOUT FERRY

[auroralightsthesky]

You ok bro? (Tatum/Evanson)

Summary: Steve has never seen Chuck cry before.....that all changed with one movie

Note: Sorry for having to use the gif of Sledge, there’s literally nothing for my HBO War boys 

Disclaimer: I own nothing, this is solely based off of the HBO War series and not off of real life. The real life men deserve the utmost respect no matter what

Late at night and with midterms upon them, Tatum decided that a movie night was a much needed event. Studying had been done for the day, last minute assignments done and nothing else to do until they took their tests on Monday. There couldn’t have been a better setup.

“So what’s on the movie list for tonight?” Steve lazily sighed as he kicked off his shoes before flopping onto the bed.

“No idea,” Chuck replied. “Let me check the milk crate.”

Out from under his bed, Tatum hauled the milk crate, the holy stash that kept them from getting bored on nights like this. As he fingered his way through the neat pile of dvds, he tried to think of one that might be of interest to the both of them. Space Jam? Nah, they’d seen that one enough. Deadpool? Better save that for when Ray came knocking. The Goonies? Not bad but better for a rainy day. Serenity? Young Frankenstein? Close but no cigar.

“Oh hey now, what have we here?” he muttered as he pulled the dvd out of the crate.

It was an old familiar, a movie he had first seen in middle school, one that had captured the mind of a rabid history lover. It had been years since Tatum had seen Glory, but oh would the rewatch be perfect on a night like this, even if it were solely for nostalgia’s sake.

“You ever see this one?” he asked Steve.

“Nope,” Steve answered.

Tatum feigned a shocked gasp. “Blasphemy!” he chuckled. “I expected a rabid movie buff like you ought to have seen it at least a dozen times.”

Steve smiled and rolled his eyes. If anything, he should have expected this out of Chuck. It was no secret that he was an absolute sucker for historical films, war films in particular and if it revolved around the Civil War or World War I? Forget it, he’d be lost for hours.

“Alright you put it in,” Steve said. “I’m gonna go steal some snacks out of Walt’s fridge.”

“Be careful, Speirs might be lurking around,” Chuck said as Steve left the room.

“Oh blow it out your ass!” he retorted.

                                    ***********

He came back about ten minutes later with a bag of Fritos which was gone before the movie had even started. Both of them wriggled their way under the covers on Chuck’s bed before hitting “play movie. The chill of mid March crept its way into the dorm but the two of them lay under the thick blankets, warm as hot coals in the fire grate.

“Wait is that the guy from Ferris Bueller?” Steve asked barely a minute into the movie.

“Yep.”

Steve had frequently asked questions but Chuck was patient, pointing out who was who and answering whatever Steve needed answered. Steve was enthralled by the whole story of how men who had once been thought of as nothing, rose up to make something of themselves. They both watched wordlessly as the story played out in front of them, enthralled by every little detail, every word or part of the soundtrack that kept them hooked from the very beginning.

And then came the ending.

Steve jumped and clamped a hand over his mouth when the sound of the loud cannon blast filled the small dorm from the dvd speakers. When all went quiet he was still in disbelief. A quiet sniff next to him shattered the quiet and when he turned his head, there was Chuck, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder, his eyes reddened as something shiny streaked its way down his cheeks.

He was crying.

“Bro you ok?” Steve asked.

Chuck sniffed and shook his head. Never in the entire time they had known each other had Steve ever seen him cry....at least not like this. This wasn’t just an “i’ve got something in my eye” moment.....this was as real and visceral as it got as the wet spot on his shoulder grew. 

“Hey, c’mere,” he said, coiling his arms around Chuck and Chuck’s arms wrapping around him in return. 

“You’re not gonna tell anybody are you?” he rasped. 

“What’s said in the room, stays in the room,” Steve assured him. 

“Promise?” Chuck replied. 

“I promise,” Steve chuckled.

(P.S if any of you guys have the chance to check out the movie that Tatum and Evanson watch in the fic, please do it’s a piece of American History that should never be lost or forgotten by any means.)

[the-blueish-trashcan]

He’s in Charge; Chapter Eleven

Pairing: Henry/Bertrum

Warnings: Death, murder, suicide

A/N: This one’s... a bit heavy, but plot intensive. It looks like Grant’s promise to make things right is going to pay off.

Chapter word count: 2,916

{First part} {Previous part} {Next part}

Chapter Eleven; Dirty Deeds

As he sat at the small table in the kitchen the next morning, Henry caught himself lost in thought as he stared out the back window, fingers drumming lightly on a warm mug of coffee. His thoughts ranged from drawings to Joey, and what could really be happening behind the scenes, and on days like this when he wasn’t scheduled to work. He was comfortable physically having borrowed clothes to sleep in from Bertrum that turned out to be loose on him, but mentally, not so. Bertrum, dressed in a gray tank top and pale blue pajama pants with slippers, stood over a pan of scrambled eggs. Just next to him, carrying out a conversation in a language Henry couldn’t understand was a man he had to assume was the designer’s personal chef watching over a pan of bacon. If nothing else, he certainly looked the part of a chef. Ferris laid at Henry’s feet, his tail quietly thumping against the floor. 

The animator sighed softly, shaking his head. His gaze shifted from the well-kept back yard and garden to his coffee cup as he took a small sip. He leaned back in his chair, still holding the cup, and threw a glance to Bertrum. The man’s back was to him at that moment, but a smile slowly made its way onto his face anyway. Even with all the chaos at work, at least right then, he had a moment for peace. 

After a few minutes, Bertrum plated the eggs, his chef moving the slices of bacon to their own plate for him to bring over. Grinning, Bertrum set a plate in front of Henry. “Here we are!” He said cheerily, taking a seat at the other side of the table.

“Thanks.” Henry’s voice came out more quiet than he intended. He set his mug down finally, instead taking up a fork. 

“Did you want to stay for the afternoon? I’m between jobs now, we could go out somewhere.”

“I don’t know. I’d like to go home and get some clean clothes, at least. Then maybe we can meet up later?”

“I can send someone out to get you a new set so you don’t have to drive back and forth, if you’d like.” Bertrum offered.

“What? Oh, no, I couldn’t have you do that, isn’t that a little excessive?” Henry waved his free hand dismissively.

“Please, it just makes sense. Unless you’d like someone to drive you to your apartment instead? If you’re just coming back in a few hours, I see no reason to send you away.” He shrugged.

Henry could only sigh. “That’s way too much effort for someone to have to put in for me, I may as well just wear the same clothes…”

“I do have a washing and drying unit, if you’d rather wash your clothes here.” Bertrum indicated a door behind Henry, pointing out where they were located. 

“Now that’s something that makes some sense. I’ll have to take up that offer, as long as you don’t mind me hanging onto these for a while.” He gave a slight smile, indicating what he was already wearing.

“Not at all. I think that’s a much better idea.” Bertrum returned the smile, then went quiet, giving them both some time to eat. They were both nearly done when he spoke again. “About what you said last night… Regarding Drew…”

Henry froze, looking up at him briefly. “I know I sound crazy… I’ve been thinking about it all morning.”

“No, Henry, you have probable cause. It may not make much sense to me, but regardless, it does seem a bit strange that so many people are gone- you said- without a real explanation, and you’re clearly suspicious of some kind of list you saw Drew keeping.” He paused and Henry nodded. “If you want me to, I really am willing to hire someone to look into it for you, but I’d like to speak with someone else first. Perhaps Drew’s accountant, you said he’s in charge of paperwork.”

“Right… I don’t see a problem with that, you could come meet him on Monday if you wanted. I’m sure he’d appreciate someone investigating, honestly.”

“All right, then.” Bertrum nodded once, then took a slice of bacon from the plate and held it down to Ferris.

*****

By the time Henry’s clothes were cleaned, dried and he was dressed, Bertrum looked like he was already ready to leave the house. He was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, sitting at the foot of the stairs Henry was coming down to tie his shoes. He offered the animator a smile when he saw him.

“It’s a lovely day today, I thought perhaps we could take Ferris out to the park. It’s a lovely walk, and there’s plenty of shade there.” He offered, standing.

“Sure, that sounds nice.” Henry paused a few steps from the bottom, leaning on the banister. 

Bertrum shifted to face him, thinking for a moment. He gently grabbed Henry by the shoulders, shifting him to the side slightly and pulling him down one step. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Henry’s forehead, that time without having to bend down at all. “There. Ready?”

Henry let out a small laugh, his cheeks quickly turning color. He stepped down the last few stairs, on his way to the door. “Whenever you are.” 

*****

Monday, when Henry walked into the studio, the remaining staff- just under what looked like two-dozen people- were all gathered near the main entrance. They stood in front of Joey, who was still wheelchair-bound, glancing at each other nervously. As Henry joined the group himself, he noticed that he hardly recognized anyone there, save for a man named Thomas. Other than his name, he didn’t really know him. Since there was space and Thomas was fairly tall, Henry moved to stand in front of him to face Joey.

“Ah. Good, everyone’s here.” Joey started as he spotted Henry. He looked much more sickly than the last time Henry had seen him, his face a sort of gray with prominent dark marks under his eyes. His voice was much more slurred than before. “It is with a heavy heart that I have to announce the death of Grant Cohen, my accountant.”

A soft murmur went around the group. Henry could hear Thomas grunt, then sigh.

Joey continued after a moment. “As it stands right now, it is a suicide. As we speak, there is a team of investigators downstairs confirming this fact. That said, please do not go down there until further notice. Even you, Connor.”

“Okay, I get that you don’t want anyone interrupting ‘em. What about basic maintenance of the pipes down there?” Thomas’s deep, gruff voice answered from behind the animator. 

“They were very clear to me that no one is to be down there for any reason. End of story.” Joey stated more firmly. “Now… I would like to give you all some bereavement time off, but we simply don’t have time for that. Please, do your best to do business as usual.” That said, he rolled himself off down the hall, towards his office. 

“Stupid cunt.” Thomas seethed quietly, meaning Joey, obviously. 

Henry shook his head slowly, going to his desk. Grant dead? And so suddenly? “This doesn’t add up…” He mumbled. 

“Hey.” Thomas Connor’s voice came from behind him. When Henry turned, Thomas was leaning against the wall.

“Uhm, hi.” Henry tilted his head. 

“You didn’t know Grant all that well, huh?”

“No… I only met him a couple of times. He was always so nervous…”

Thomas nodded slowly, grinding a toothpick between his teeth. “I knew ‘im pretty well. Had to work with ‘im a lot.”

“Oh… I’m so sorry-” Henry started, but Thomas held up a hand.

“Don’t be. He held out for a long time. He was in a lot of pain. I’m not surprised, I’m just hopin’ he’s got some peace now.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’ come here to complain, though. Grant just wanted you especially to know he’s done the right thing here. He had a plan, and it’s gonna happen.”

“What are you talking about? Did he leave a… a note or something telling you that?”

Thomas shrugged again. “Not that you’re aware of, you get me?”

It took Henry a moment to understand, a look of shock crossing his face. “You have his suicide note…? Why? Isn’t that tampering with evidence?”

“Not if he asked me to take it. There were two notes and an envelope. One had my name on it, and said to take everything before anyone else saw. Make sure it ended up with the right people. I found his body, no doubt those investigators are gonna wanna talk to me soon.”

“And… you’re going to, right?” Henry’s voice had dropped, his arms crossing over his chest.

“‘Course. I’m goin’ down there right now and then quittin’. If it works out like he wanted, it’s best to get out now before any more shit hits the fan.”

“You’re just leaving?” Henry asked, then instantly felt stupid.

“Yep, and I suggest after today, you do the same. There’s some shady things happening here, Henry, and if you value your life, you’ll get out now. Somebody’s gonna protect you when you do.” The mechanic paused. “Actually. You should come with me so somebody with the law can keep an eye on you, Drew clearly thinks you’re some kinda threat based on what Grant said. I don’ think anybody would benefit from you kicking the bucket, too.” He started down the hall and gestured for Henry to come with him.

“I can’t do that, I’m on thin ice with Joey as it is…”

“Then I’ll drop your name an’ you’ll have somebody come up and talk to you instead.” He shrugged as he rounded the corner and was gone, save for the fading sound of his heavy work boots.

*****

As promised, not even half an hour or a full sketch later, a young man dressed in a police uniform arrived to retrieve the animator and bring downstairs. The man didn’t speak to him at all on the way down, which put him on edge. Once at the foot of the stairs, Henry was escorted by a different officer across the half-finished main room and to where Grant’s office was. Not far from it, the group had set up a sort of impromptu workroom, though the area was otherwise taped off. Just the sight of the caution tape sent a shiver up Henry’s spine. Just outside of the scene, Henry was met by someone he had to assume from the more plain clothes was an investigator.

“Hello sir, sorry to bother you.” The man held out his hand. “Warren Hoss, investigator, you must be Henry Stein, right?”

Henry nodded, shaking his hand a few tentative times. “That’s me.”

“You didn’t know Grant Cohen well, did you?”

“No, sir. I only met him a few times properly.”

“Right. Well, both he mentioned you in his letter and Thomas Connor gave your name when the question of Joseph Drew came up. Any idea why?” He obviously knew, but wanted Henry to tell him himself.

“Well… From what I knew about Grant, Joey kept him on a pretty short leash and… He threatened him a lot, from what I heard, sir, and he does the same to me. Grant knew about it, and he knew I know more about Joey than most people.”

Officer Hoss nodded. “How did he threaten Grant Cohen, exactly?”

Henry bit his lip, looking around nervously. “I don’t know, really, I’m sorry.”

“You say he threatens you too. How so?”

“He… physically threatens me a lot… Constantly threatens my job. He says he wants to make my life Hell, just because he thinks I know more than I should.” Knowing better, he left out everything about Bertrum- and about Joey’s dark magic. 

Officer Hoss didn’t press for more on that on Joey’s treatment of them. “And what do you know that’s so important he’d want to ruin your life?”

“I-I can’t say for sure, but…” He glanced around again, seeing only other officers nearby. “All of these people disappearing… Joey says they’re getting fired. Grant says- er, said- they’re not, not according to his records… People don’t just disappear, sir, and Grant was really good at his job as far as I knew.”

“Are you trying to imply that these people who were fired were actually murdered?”

Henry hesitated. The idea shouldn’t be coming out like this. “I’m… not sure.”

“Do you think Grant Cohen was murdered?”

“No, sir. I think he really did do this to himself. He was scared, more than I am.”

“Do you think Joseph Drew could be capable and willing to commit a murder?”

“I believe he could be now, yes.” Henry breathed. 

“Hm.” Officer Hoss’s eyes trailed down the hall, towards Grant’s office. “You and I may be in touch if we need to know about Mister Drew. Would you write down a number we can contact you at, please?” From a pocket in the front of his shirt, he produced a small pad of paper and a pen, holding it out to Henry. 

Taking it, he began to scribble his home number on the lines, as well as his name. “Of course, of course. Have you spoken to Jack Fain? He was good friends with Grant, if his letter wasn’t enough, Jack might have known what was going on with him.”

“That’s the second time Jack Fain has been brought up. No one of that name works here anymore, according to Mister Drew.”

“Oh.” Was all Henry managed, handing the notepad back a moment later.

“Thank you for your cooperation.” Officer Hoss gave a short nod, then ducked under the yellow tape and disappeared in Grant’s office.

A sort of numbness slowly crept into Henry’s chest. The scene was surreal at best. A man he knew personally was found dead at his desk, and his boss had briefly been suspect. He shook his head and turned away, making his way back out of the area.

Only when he was crossing the ditch in the middle of the floor did he catch on to quick feet moving behind him, calling out, “Sir!”

When the animator turned, it was the young officer that had escorted him down. “I’ve been asked to walk you back upstairs, I apologize if that bothers you.” While his tone was cheery, his face didn’t reflect it.

“Oh, no, not at all!” Henry responded automatically. Then it occurred to him that it might be a good idea on the off-chance Joey was upstairs.

Just like before, the young officer was quiet, and Henry couldn’t think of anything to say.

*****

Later that afternoon, not getting any work done without meaning to, Henry’s attention was pulled to the hall at his back by the heavy bootsteps he recognized as Thomas Connor. He shifted to look before the man could speak. 

“Grant thought that Susie gal died. That’s why he did it.” Thomas stated, taking a toothpick from between his teeth.

“What?” Henry’s eyebrows went up, shocked. 

“Grant’s final letter. He said Drew killed Susie and that was the last straw. Drew’s gettin’ personally investigated. Grant had some freaky-lookin’ pictures of his office.” Thomas’s voice stayed flat. “I dunno who else to tell about it. Wally’s gone, Grant’s gone, Jack’s gone. Wally liked ya, so I guessed I should tell you. I’m leavin’ this afternoon for good b’fore anything else goes belly-up and I think you should do the same. Seriously. You can’t bail out the same way Grant did.” 

His voice hadn’t changed at all, but the distant look in Thomas’s blue-gray eyes caused Henry’s expression to become concerned. “How close were you with him, Thomas?” He asked quietly.

He shook his head, his voice slowly dropping. “Not very, but… I tried to look out for him, y’know? He wasn’t that good at takin’ care of himself. He hated workin’ here, but insisted he didn’t have a way out ‘cause of Drew. He found one, I s’pose.”

“Are you okay?” The animator tried.

“I’m in disbelief. Grant’s dead. That’s it. He’s just gone. An’ I don’t think he’s the only one that’s died here, and that scares me.” He glances at Henry, sighing and shoving his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, that’s right, I’m scared. Grown man, scared of death. Sue me.”

“I’m so sorry, Thomas. I don’t think it’s wrong for you to be scared, as far as you know your boss is seriously…”

“Deranged? Unhinged? No kidding, you didn’t see those pictures, didn’t see his blood all over the fucking place… That blood’s on Drew’s hands!” Noticing that his voice is rising, he takes a deep breath and lets it out heavily. “Sorry. I don’t mean to put my grief on you, you’re in his situation now. Please be careful.”

“No, no, it’s okay. I-I understand, you’re in pain. It’s alright.”

Thomas nodded. “Be careful.”

“I will. I’ll watch out.”

“Good. Good.” He placed the toothpick  back between his teeth, turning on his heel and shuffling away. 

The whole conversation left Henry with an ache in his heart, and the idea in his head that Thomas was right. He had to get away, but he needed to know just what happened to the rest of his friends. He doubted the police would be saying anything about it, anyhow.

[youllallriseintheink]

Defining Memories, chapter 1

Thanks for showing support, guys. I appreciate it.

---

It had been an average day when it happened. Around eight that morning, ten men and three women found themselves in a misty void with nothing else in it but each other. Except for Henry. Henry lived several states away, so for him it was 10 am and he’d been pulled out of work. Disoriented, he looked around for someone he recognized. His eyes fell upon a blond, sharp-featured man. “Sammy? Sammy Lawrence?”

The man looked back at him, confused. “Henry? Why are you here?”

Henry laughed a little. “Good question. Why are we here?”

“No, I mean, why are you here with all of these Joey Drew Studios employees? You’re the odd one out.”

“Oh. Are there any other patterns you’ve noticed?”

Sammy turned away to look at the other eleven, an irritable look on his face. “Not really. We’ve got everyone from Mr. Piedmont to this joker.” He pointed at a lanky, boyish-looking man covered in freckles. The man had previously been chatting with an impish Irishman that Henry didn’t recognize.

“Henry?” Wally said, before tackling Henry with an energetic hug. “Well I’ll be! It must’ve been years since I’ve seen ya! How’s that studio down in California treatin’ you?”

Henry hugged him back. “Oh, it’s treating me well.”

“Where are my manners? It’s nice to see you again, Henry. Did you manage to patch things up with Linda?” Sammy asked, adding “sorry for snapping,” under his breath.

“Yep, we’ve been married a decade. And it’s fine, Sammy. This is a weird situation, and we should try to figure it out so we can get back to our lives. Let’s see... who’s all here?”

Henry could recognize a few people. Grant Cohen, the accountant that Henry had had a hand in hiring, was there. He had not aged well, looked washed out, and was freaking out over the situation, but at least there were some people with him. Henry remembered him as very shy. Beside him was a rather masculine woman Henry didn’t recognize, and Norman Polk, who was attempting to calm him down. Henry shuddered. Well, if Norman was still here, he must not have done anything bad to warrant firing him, at least, Henry figured. And if someone as nervous as Grant was apparently close to the strange, off-putting man, why should he creep Henry out?

A ways away from that, two women were murmuring to each other, confused. A grumpy, muscular man stood behind the brunette, silent and with crossed arms. It looked like two women, anyhow. They were both shapely, beautiful, and on the tall side, with flowing shoulder-length hair. One, however, had some healthy colour to her chestnut hair, grey eyes, and flushed skin. The other woman’s skin was a sickly pale grey, and everything else about her from her eyes to the dress she wore, to the strange scar on her bizarrely thin neck, was ink-black. And she had horns. Something about her clearly wasn’t natural.

Jack Fain was in the middle of the final group of people there, attempting to mediate a lively argument between two men. One of them was a tall, imposing creature in his sixties wearing a top hat. The other was... Oh, God. Henry did not like the look of this. “Joey.”

“Yeah, Joey,” Wally said. “He’s probably the one who brought us here, with all his fancy voodoo. What of it?”

“I just don’t know how to react. We haven’t contacted each other in years.”

“You’re tellin’ me,” Wally’s Irish friend said, “that a fine fellow like you used to be friends with Mr. Drew?"

“Yep,” Henry said, his voice tinged with regret. “I guess I’ll just avoid him. He cut off contact with me when I left. If he wants to reconnect, he can make the first move.”

Henry wondered how his friend had changed over the years. He kept a big smile on his face even as he was all but yelling at the other man, which was no surprise. Joey always seemed cheerful, even when he wasn’t. And he looked as young as ever- no new lines on his face or so much as a single grey in his pitch-black hair. He had, however, lost a good deal of weight and had dark circles under his eyes. He was trying to seem as energetic as ever, but that came off even less genuine than his cheerfulness. It must still have been busy running the studio, because Joey looked drained of life.

Suddenly, a small yellow light flashed above Joey’s head and the room fell silent, all eyes landing on him.

“How dare you lie to the great Bertrum Piedmont?!” the other man boomed at Joey.

“I’m telling you,” Joey snapped, “I didn’t do jack shit!”

Suddenly, the environment changed. The purplish mist cleared to show a darkened studio. What seemed to be a copy of Joey was there, standing before the nozzle of a giant machine, which was making noise as though it was jammed. “What the Hell, Joey!” Shawn whispered.

The Joey clone appeared to get confused and impatient, and went to the back of the machine and tinkered with it a moment, pulling out film that had been caught in the machine. The machine clanked into motion. An inky creature, identifiable as Boris the wolf, fell out of its oversized nozzle moments later and fell to the ground with a splat. Joey approached and helped it up, a look of immense satisfaction on his face. “Well, welcome to the world, Boris.” His tone was gentle and fatherly. Aside from Thomas, who seemingly couldn’t even bring himself to look at the unfolding scene, everyone in the room was awestruck.

The creature looked around, confused and nervous. It held tight to Joey’s hand. Meanwhile, Joey was observing the beast in detail, looking for defects. “Perfect. Oh, don’t shiver. Don’t be scared. I have the perfect place for you to live. With my help, you’re going to make everyone happy.”

The Boris looked at Joey and nodded slightly, seemingly content with the offer. Then all at once, the creature’s demeanour changed. He stared at his paws, and in a panic reached up to feel his ears.

“Oh no. Buddy, is that you?”

The Boris glared at Joey, then grabbed his snout in shock upon realizing that he couldn’t speak.

“Now, Buddy,” Joey began nervously, “It’s okay. I saved-“ he was cut off by a solid blow to the face, knocking him to the ground. The Boris turned and ran in fear. He ran straight into the group, phasing right through Shawn without taking notice. Joey didn’t try running after the Boris, instead just dusting himself off. “So close now,” he whispered, smiling and cupping his now-bleeding face. “Just some personality issues to work out.”

The scene faded back into mist, and the Joey clone went with it.

Nervous chatter rose. “What the Hell was that?!” Lacie demanded, glaring at Joey Drew.

“A... memory.”

“A memory? Oh, sure. You created a living cartoon character out of some weird machine that looks like it belongs in a sci-fi movie. Just tell us why we’re here already.”

Henry felt someone grab his arm. It was Grant. Grant peered over his shoulder to make sure Joey was out of earshot, then whispered “do you have any idea what he wants to do to us?”

Henry shook his head.

Grant’s eyes darted about, and he let go of Henry’s arm. “Sorry. I just thought, since you used to know him well...”

In that moment, a glowing yellow light appeared over Bertrum’s head and the group fell silent. The scene shifted again.

The group was in what appeared to be a circus tent. A much younger Bertrum was there, having his tie adjusted by an older man with matching reddish brown hair. “Now Son,” The man said in deep, serious voice, “this might be your park. Your first park. But remember that it’s reflecting the entire Colossal Wonders dynasty. I don’t want anyone doubting our future, or my abilities as a parent.”

“You know I won’t disappoint!”

The older man patted his shoulder. “You never have.”

“And if this park does well-“

The older man’s face grew stern. “No, Bertrum. I’m not retiring. You will take this empire when I’m dead. Not that you aren't ready. I’m just not sick of this yet.”

“Right. Of course.”

Bertrum stepped out of the tent. To one side of him was a lovely amusement park, complete with games, clowns, roller coasters, and a giant, clown-themed Ferris Wheel, all well-tested and ready for commercial use. To the other side of him, was a crowd, separated from the fun by a gate. As he approached the gate’s entrance, their cheers grew louder, something that clearly delighted the young man. He accepted the ribbon-cutting scissors and drew them towards the ribbon, causing the crowd to roar louder and louder. Then, with a mischievous smile on his face, he stopped and lifted them back up, causing the crowd to fall silent. He repeated the motion twice more, clearly revelling in the control he had over the crowd as their cheers rose and fell with the scissors. Then, he lifted his arms and yelled, “just messin’ with ya, folks!” before cutting the ribbon in a quick motion. The crowd surged forwards, forcing a very proud Bertrum to move out of the way lest he be crushed.

The scene faded back into purple mist.

Bertrum wiped a tear from his eye. “That, I will admit, was a memory,” he said. The group was silent a while, processing the situation.

“So, these are memories,” Henry mused. “I guess the only thing to do is just to watch everyone’s, then.”

“It could be fun,” Joey said. “Why wouldn’t I want to get to know what makes my studio family tick?”

“It is nice to see that you’ve both made such spectacular things,” Allison agreed.

“And it looks like I’m next,” Sammy said, cupping a golden light in his hands.

[whimsically-ominously-auspice]

Ms Chen would be pleased

She said "the most peaceful way to demonstrate and protest and have your angriest voice heard is to vote and we are lucky in this country Because we are allowed to vote. Women and Blacks worked hard for the future of them -- you -- and i dont mean biologically i mean their heart and spirit and knowing well the people in front of them when they see the future must learn and learn well in order to protect the world. Because you see this country is very powerful as is China. While China is bigger, the United States has more power and I'm sorry to tell you that all the power in the world, relies on you to use your angry voice in that polling booth. My parents still in China can not vote. They are not allowed. (No matter how many times she said this speech some one always gasped. And it -- her words caused my heart to stop in fear for her family and China and it did for many kids. They became terrified for the citizens of China) Because there is No voting. None. Not allowed. It is not too far. It is not too boring. It just does not exist. So it is you to protect the people of China. Tawain. NE Asia. You the voters of the most powerful of nations -- the USA"

And some of us. When she said to protect China. We promised with our whole hearts and souls we would. There is now voting in China

It was not until 1988 that a Village Chief in a town in China could be voted for. And in 1989 it still hadn't occurred in hers.

She never lived to the day it would be before she was murdered by the Chinese Embassy in NYC that she was trying to work with to help China and it's citizens.

She was murdered on April 17, 1990. We were notified on 4-20-90 its never been a joyous holiday for me. I try to avoid the date. Sleeping through it usually.

So two days ago was her 29th anniversary of her death. And she will be dead 30 years.

Two days ago a castle was bought for me. Two days ago i helped solve 88 murders and 43 people were arrested.

Two days ago i cried a lot and it was a very difficult day for me. And I didn't know it was the 29th anniversary of her death 30 years ago

I think i did her wonderfully proud.

She was abducted on her way to work on a Tuesday morning. Friday morning we were told of the news.

We were worried. I told the office... They had been in tears for two days in a row i said "you better tell me what's going on because i know something is. I been down here every day this week to find out about Ms Chen. Y'all attitude aint right. So us kids have assembled a search party for right after school if er can't find her on this island by midnight tonight we will go home to sleep for at least 3 hours as Me Chen would say we need to rest, she is not that important. Then we will go to Brooklyn to search. So you as an adult better tell me. And then tell them what the fuck is going on with you emotionally. Other wise put a post it in each teacher box so have an adult to go with us. 5 am for the city ferry then on to Brooklyn."

Half the office was literally i mean honestly throwing up in trash cans.

Ms Pallen the principal came in with a small jewelry like box. And what was inside was mostly covered by a tissue. "Sabrina is -- this ring -- does this belong to Ms Chen, finger and all?"

"Well it looks like her rin--" i lifted the small tissue covering her finger "a finger! Where's the rest of her?! Did you get the hand?! What about an arm?! Where is her body?!"

I wanted to know more. The more missing body parts the less chance we had to save her. I knew -- she told us. So a finger? Just a finger?! We were looking good!! Of all her stories. She of all people was tough enough to lose a finger and keep on talking.

"Do i have permission to leave the building for one quick look just around? I'll be back swiftly i promise"

Our principal softly stroked our friends finger and nodded gently and sadly as tears dropped down ... If tears and throw up could bring her back we were doing well in this office.

"As bad as it pains you look in the worst place first. Here i would think it would be water. I can't swim. Well barely. But not too good for New York City's oceans" she had said. She said it was the worst to know we would think but in reality it was worst to question and hope when there was none.

So i took off to the seawall and ran up and down looking but i didn't see her... I didn't want to. So I ran all the way around the tiny military island. Then back. Then i rode the public transit bus looking far off in the middle not the edge then the outer edge at Brooklyn. I got off at the school. I walked directly to the sea wall and looked down.

There she was floating face down. Her skirt covering as much of her legs as possible. Her beautiful black hair covering much of the rest. She had on one heel, a white shirt and black skirts. One of her favorite outfits she said. Because she said it made her feel most business.

I walked slow back to the school.

Ms Pallen smiled "i knew you were onto something, did you find it?"

My eyes got huge because i had and i had been believed in and i looked up at her in her heels "i do. I need the police"

She was smiling all kinds calling it in. "She found a clue. No shes mute. You know how she gets. No not really happy. Oh she's thinking and her mouth is dropped. Not good? Oh it's a clue! Just hurry"

Ms Pallen kneeled down next to me I really worked st hiding what i saw. What i had did.

"So what is happening. What clue can you tell me?"

I looked down, with dead eyes. Glassy purposeful eyes and a stroked her head, starting at the tip top and down to her chin "I'm sorry"

"No" she started to angry scowl and cry at the same time.

I nodded "yep"

"No" she started crying again her face contorting different

"Shh it will be all okay. Come sit" i patted the seat next to me

"What's wrong with her eyes? She looks dead -- no im not going to throw up. I think"

"A clue" I held Ms Pallen's hand. I was the kid. But no one was gonna be okay.

"If she's dead im gonna get a new job. Remember i told you that. Her, too!"

"Then you better start" i hung my head. No Don't look down Ms Chen would say. Be strong for you and your friends "looking" i looked up cheerfully as if it were just a bright new day.

"Haha very funny kid"

I just smiled. -- show me you're happy. Show the world you can be And be free. She would say. I found her. The world could rest. Stop puking. Stop being afraid. Ms Chen would like me for that.

"Why so happy kid?"

"Cause... Life... It never ceases to exist. Its always inside me"

"Bright sunshiney day"

"Looks gloom and dreary if you ask me"

"Maybe that's why i didn't see her at first."

"Sabrina you have something for me? Did you see thr finger? They only had it since yesterday" i heard behind me, a male voice, "good mornin girls. Sabrina do you hear me?"

"She went mute again but shr was just talking. Let me get my coat"

"Sabrina do you need her?"

I nodded

"Don't nod. Speak. What do you need? You know you can tell me?"

"Every one clocked in in the office and at two chair or an ambulance. People will need to sit"

"Well uh how come?"

"Death"

"Well, come on it's just a finger."

"Chair. Ambu bed"

"So she's alive?"

"Morg--- just come on"

Halfway there he dropped the chairs. Just dumped them. The girls left a string of clues behind. Shoes. Coats. Jackets. They all knew. They all knew as soon as they saw my direct path was to the fence seperating the land from the water.

And they ran. Throwing all their unnecessary items behind. So they could get in the water. All three of them. 2 secretaries and a principal.

And the body of the world's greatest teachers floating stiff and face down, dead.

"Yeah it's her alright. But she's missing two fingers i guess her parents got the other one. Her two families most important things. Both index fingers or her pointer. Sabrina what's that mean? Im gonna sit in the water with her until the coroner gets here. I don't want her to be alone" said what had appeared to be the weakest Secretary but most determined

"I don't know if she's more beautiful dead or alive. Shes like a mermaid. And so pretty."

"Sabrina what's It mean? The one index?" Asked our police

"You're number one. Wait right here. One minute and I'll be back"

"She had them cut it off? I bet she did. She's a tough woman like that" she sat on a dry area next to our friend.

"Idk how much you know about biology. But that finger had no blood. Shes been dead at least since yesterday" Ms Pallen out of the water in a wool green plaid frock dress, her fur coat in the street at the stop sign.

"The moment they picked her up. She was never going to live past that" i sighed

"But sabrina why would she want them to cut it off?" She asked looking towards the school

"Reincarnation. She means it. She will be back. Or She will never leave at all"

"Sabrina she's not supposed to talk about religion with you. Seperation of church and state" she said looking out over the water send down.

"Chinese culture is not a religion to some people. Neither is American religion not a culture"

"Oh she loopholed. That is sweet. Now we know. Oh my dear sweet friend, here is your ride coming up" said Ms Pallen the principal.

"the most peaceful way to demonstrate and protest and have your angriest voice heard is to vote and we are lucky in this country Because we are allowed to vote. Women and Blacks worked hard for the future of them -- you -- and i dont mean biologically i mean their heart and spirit and knowing well the people in front of them when they see the future must learn and learn well in order to protect the world. Because you see this country is very powerful..."

And you are a part of that power.

So register to vote then vote in the November 2020 election.

Raise your kids right. Not only are they our future. They will take over the world.

I did.

[araminia16]

Illness or Not (part 2-Second Trimester)-Not an Illness After All

XxOxX

Her symptoms waned and waxed with each day but after a time she began to take less in the way of naps, food sounded better and her appetite doubled. It was those events for which Callum felt grateful.

“You want me to make what, Prince Callum?” The head palace chef stared at him as if he had grown a second head. “I know it sounds gross but that’s what she wants.”

“Onions and moonberries in a pie? Are you quite sure?”

“One hundred percent. She practically started drooling when she told me to get one for her. I think she’s insane but at least she wants food.”

“It will take some time to create.”

“I have time. I’m not going to go back into that room without it. She’s hungry and grumpy and I want to keep all my parts attached.”

The head chef nodded and began to give orders to his staff to cut onions and gather up moonberries, and gather ingredients for the pastry crust. “I know there has been no such official announcement but is it true about her condition?”

Callum sighed. He didn’t blame the man for being curious but everyone who he talked to anymore wondered about Rayla’s condition. “Yes. She’s pregnant.”

“And it is yours?”

“Of course it’s mine! We’re married.” Callum half shouted incredulously at the man.

“So sorry, Prince Callum but no one has ever heard of a half human half elf baby.”

“Well with us being at war and whatnot I would be surprised if you had.” Callum grumbled, “How long should this take?”

“About an hour.”

“Well then I will be back in about an hour.” The chef and his staff bowed to Callum as he exited. He headed to the library to read more on what they should expect in the months ahead. It never hurt to be prepared for anything though the texts on elven pregnancy were few and far between and he had some more items on the way from Xadia.

He settled into his favorite chair with the book in hand when he felt a familiar presence nearby, “Hello Callum.”

^&^&^&

Rayla roamed about the room with new energy. The wee parasite grew in her womb seemed as if it settled in nicely. The drain on her very soul had lessened so naturally with her renewed energy she had rushed to the healer a few days past. It was a woman this time who reassured her there was nothing wrong. It was natural to have a burst of energy when the child settled in and the groundwork laid for its growth. All she had to do was feed her body and the child would continue to flourish. That was easy. Her appetite had been near insatiable recently and she chuckled when she thought of the look of horror on Callum’s face when she requested her newest food. It was a near rabid for her to crave such a strange combination but it was not her. It was the child. Her wee little bean though now it should be bigger than a bean. Rayla stopped in front of the mirror. The shirt she wore fitted tight around her bust now and she noticed Callum stared quite often anymore at them. Hands lifted up the bottom of her shirt and she examined her still flat and muscled belly with the slightest curve near the bottom as she always had. The pale purple flesh showed no sign of the stretch she knew would come.

Tired of the four walls of her shared room she opened the door and decided to search out her treat on her own.

#$#$#$#

“Claudia.” The word lacked the warmth it used to when he would address her. When he would stare after her as a lovesick boy who idolized her.

“Brrr.” She rubbed her arms as if she truly felt cold, “That was a little harsh don’t you think?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. Things had never quite been the same between them after what happened with their travel to Xadia and the events which happened after. Her father and what happened to him fractured their friendship beyond repair. “What did you need?”

Dark magic hadn't been banned. Not yet though the other rulers had conflicted views on the subject. Claudia didn’t use much magic anymore since she found out what could happen to those who dug to deeply into it. “That’s fair. I actually had a question for you about a rumor I heard the other day.”

He looked up from his book then at her as she stood across from him with a gentle, bright smile. Her hair once a dark black and purple now nearly white with her corruption, “Oh?”

“It’s about Rayla. You and Rayla.”

“Yes.”

“That wasn’t a question.” She stated in confusion. “No. It was answer. Yes.”

“You don’t know what I was going to ask.” Claudia put hands on hips then. “I could have asked if she was leaving you or something.”

“But you weren’t.” He pointed out. “I know you better than you think. We used to be best friends, remember?”

She remained quiet with a shadow to her gaze, “Of course.”

“So yes. Rayla and I are going to have a baby. We didn’t want to make a big deal about it yet. She’s been ill and we don’t want to ferry questions or accusations from anyone at the moment.”

“Congratulations.” The response resonated with warmth and he cocked his head at her.

“Really?”

“Were you expecting a different response, Archmage?”

He had to think on it a moment. “I don’t know.”

“We don’t have to avoid each other you know.”

“I’m not avoiding anyone. Our paths just don’t cross anymore.”

“Hello Claudia.” Rayla’s voice carried across the room.

“Rayla.” She nodded at the elf.

“She knows then?”

“Yep.” Callum decided to look down at his pages then and stay out of whatever was about to happen.

“What do you think then? Is it an abomination?”

“Of course not! I’m happy for you guys. I was just telling Callum that.”

“Really?” Sarcasm dripped from the single word suspended in disbelief.

“I know you think there’s some residual feelings between Callum and I but there’s not. I’m really happy for the two of you.”

“Why are  you here? I thought you left the kingdom after--.” Rayla trailed off as Claudia winced.

“We did. Soren and I but I just got back. I missed my home. I had hoped to-- well nevermind. It’s not important now.”

“I’m sorry about your father.” The words hung suspended in the air between the two women as an act of kindness Rayla had rarely shown the human woman.

“Thank you.” Claudia whispered. “I’ll catch up later.” She fled then and Rayla squeezed her husband’s shoulder.

“I thought I told you I wanted food and yet I see you here reading and talking to her, husband.”

Callum winced at her grip. She only called him husband when she was upset. “It was going to take some time to make. They just don’t have that stuff laying around you know. It’s weird.”

Rayla would punish him later but for now she decided to collapse into his open lap and snuggle into him until she could eat.

%$%$%$

Weeks later along with her new favorite food she started to notice finally her pants were too tight. It started slowly and barely noticeable when the leather dug into her belly skin. There lay a firmness which was not there before. A little curvature only noticed by Rayla until she tried to fasten her pants one morning with no success. Callum walked in to her flat on her back in bed with her pants around her hips and a pout upon her face.

“What’s going on here?” He gestured to her predicament.

“They won’t fit.” She grumbled. He gave her a confused look. “My pants you dummy. They won’t fasten anymore.”

Callum let a slow smile spread across his lips and burn into his cheeks as he rounded the bed and knelt between her thighs at the end of the bed.

Rayla felt heat rush through her at the familiar position. He usually took it up when he was about to put his mouth onto her and though she felt frustrated at her clothes a new feeling emerged. “What do you think you are doing down there?” Her cheeks pinkened as she spoke.

Callum seemed to realize how it looked as well and he quickly stood up and leaned on the bed next to her. “Can I?” He gestured to her lower belly where her pants lay open.

“I’m still not sure what you mean.” She teased him now.

His cheeks darkened more and he cleared his throat and fidgeted, “The baby.” He muttered then and she reached up to ruffle his hair.

“Of course. Ye don’t even have ta ask me that. It’s yours too, you know.” She felt some of her earlier heat cool as he reached tentative fingers out and place the warm tips out onto the pale skin of her mostly flat belly. Rayla could see it more when she lay flat like this. The roundness, the small hill between her hips jutted out and his fingers started close to her belly button and trailed up the rounded hill then ended at the opening of her pants she couldn’t close. He splayed his hand, larger now than it used to be over it then and she felt the warmth in her chest pulse and multiply with affection for the wide eyed look of wonder. She softened with it while he drummed fingers along the skin. “It’s firm. Our baby.”

“Yes our wee little parasite is starting to take over my body.”

“You love it.” He accused gently while he stroked her skin and drew closer, “Hello there.”

“I don’t think it can hear you.” She carded her fingers through his hair and couldn’t stop the stupid smile on her face.

“I wasn’t sure if the healer was right about the baby.”

“I was.” She grumbled. “It’s been feeding off me ya know.”

“I think we need to find you better pants.”

“I like these pants.” She sighed. “It’s only going to get bigger.”

“Yep.” He nodded enthusiastically.

Rayla sighed in mock annoyance though she felt anything but while they lay on the bed and stared at the place their child rested.

%$%$%

It took some time to convince both Callum and Ezran, oddly protective as he is now, to not complain when she wanted to train. She didn’t do much as out of practice as she was now. She practiced form, stretches, and even maintained a jog for longer than she thought she would be able to now. Her leather pants had to be replaced by cloth ones she tied together. The rounded curve seemed to grow in size each day and now more people noticed her state than before. Rayla tried to ignore the way people looked at her, the whispered words, and even the ones who glanced her way with narrowed eyes. They were set to announce her pregnancy within the week and she couldn’t be more nervous though she really didn’t understand the formality. It wasn’t as if it had been kept secret. Gossip spread faster than a wildfire through a parched forest here. Though it was the same in Xadia and they were due to travel to her home in another month to stay until just before the birth. Oh and the idea of birth, how this little beast would appear was not something she wished to think about either.

She took a moment to rest on one of the benches after her exercises and leaned back to enjoy the cool breeze when she felt it. A strange flutter under her belly button almost as if she stood at a great height and looked down. Immediately her hand pressed to her small rounded belly and her heart quickened. She remained still as a statue for more time than she thought necessary and just when she had been about to dismiss the strange feeling it appeared again.

Oh. How wierd. Like a butterfly brushed wings inside her it happened a few times in succession and she couldn’t stop the dumb smile that spread across her face if she wanted to. Her desire to train forgotten she stood and trotted toward the castle in search of her husband.

She found Callum in his study. His enormous study at the top of one of the towers. He had giddily showed her his archmage laboratory though it was more a library than anything else.

Rayla didn’t wait to burst into the room as the door thudded loudly into the wall and in her hurried energy her husband flailed wildly in a chair tipped just too far back to fall forward and instead both he and the chair crashed to the floor.

“Ach. Are you okay?” She rushed over to the heap of clothes and books amidst the form of Callum who groaned.

“Geez, Rayla you scared the heck out of me.” He grumbled then his eyes widened and he scrambled up onto all fours in a rather comedic fashion and looked her over. “What is it? Why did you run in here? Are you okay?”

“Fine you clumsy man. More than fine. I finally felt it.” She chirped giddily and at his confused expression she sighed, “The baby. I think I felt it move.”

Callum’s expression broke into one of joy and he placed his hand on the roundness there. “Is it moving now?”

She paused, “No. I don’t think so. But it did before. Like a little butterfly inside me. You probably couldn’t feel it yet. It’s not big enough.” Rayla gave a surprise squeak as he pulled her closer and rested his cheek onto the firm bulge there.

“I love you.”

“I still don’t think it can hear you.”

“I wasn’t talking to it. And shouldn’t we stop calling the baby it?”

“Well I have a lot of other names for it like parasite, creature, wee beastie but I don’t think I should use those, do you?”

He chuckled and sighed. “Probably not.”

“Well it’s either a boy or a girl.”

“What do you want it to be?” Callum looked up at her.

“Preferably healthy. I don’t know anything about bairns so either is fine. I suppose you would want a boy then?”

“I haven’t really thought about it to be honest.”

“Well then ‘it’ it is.”

$#$#$#

The announcement went about as well as Rayla thought it would with harsh whispered words after and looks of revulsion her way. It made her place a protective hand over where her child grew inside her. More and more she thought about how the people would take to her half human child. Not well it looked like though the still young Queen Anya seemed to be thrilled with the news and came to her afterward to ask after her health and give her support.

Rayla noticed in the past few months how Ezran’s body language would change around Anya. How he would act like Callum used to in the early days of their courtship and how he would blush and stammer at times when she talked directly to him. They would be so adorable together.

Callum stationed himself right at her side as they roamed about the room while the nobility gave their congratulations both false and sincere and they were both grateful by the end of the night no one had made a scene.

It was later when they were alone together and Rayla lay upon their bed in a thin shift she watched Callum peel off each layer of his clothes and felt the stir again. It had been so long since they had last made love and though she wanted to now she didn’t know how to bring it up and so she merely smiled at him as he turned and climbed into bed with only shorts on to cover himself. He put his back to her after he placed a long, sweet kiss to her lips then one to her belly. Rayla took up her usual position at his back with her breasts and now a little of her belly pressed to the smooth muscle of his back. He would sometimes change up their arrangement to hold her close but she preferred to be the ‘big spoon’ as he called it. This way she could protect them better if they were attacked. Her body still buzzed with arousal even as she drifted off to sleep.

$%$%$%

Callum gasped and immediately he felt his cheeks burn at the wanton sound as Rayla pressed him into the stone of the deserted castle wall. Her lips and teeth pushed and tugged at his mouth with fervor as her hands roamed across his shoulders and down his chest.

She parted from him with little pants and her pupils nearly consumed the purple iris. A high blush spread across her cheeks and she dove back in and this time he responded with eager vigor.

They hadn’t done anything like this in weeks, months, and his body flared to life with zeal as she reached into his trousers and he had to stop her. “Rayla. What about the baby?”

She parted from him with a glare, “Safe and tucked away. Do you think your tool is so large it will touch the bairn? It’s a fine thing but not some monster. Now shut up and kiss me.”

Callum’s argument ended as she began again until they were sated against the stone of the castle in quiet sounds of euphoria.

#$#$#

She brought his hand to her belly suddenly and he pressed his palm to where she directed. He felt disappointment bubble up and just as he started to remove his hand it felt it. A little pop against his palm. Rayla smiled widely at his look of shock. “I felt it.” He whispered. “Do it again.” He whispered to her belly and uttered a sound of triumph when the little bump happened again. “It’s moving. Totally alive in there. You are amazing.” He looked up at Rayla then.

“You just now figuring that out? I haven’t been doing my job then.”

“There’s a baby in there.”

“Ya keep saying it like there hasn’t been one in there for the past 5 months. How long did you say humans carried these little things for?”

“Nine months.”

“Eight for us. You humans always have to make things harder don’t ya?” She muttered softly at him as he pressed on her belly gently in different places. “You playing games with it now?”

“No.” He drew the vowel out slowly. “Can you play with something the size of...what did they say it was the size of now?”

“A bit bigger than a large squash. And now i’m hungry.”

“Anything in particular?”

She gave him a hooded look and ran her tongue over her lip.

“I have to go to meet Ezran.” He reminded her gently though he couldn’t deny his interest.

“Fine. Something...sweet.”

“Jelly tart?”

“Too sweet. One of those rolls with the cinnamon and sticky cream. Two.”

“Anything else your majesty?”

“To stop having to run to pee every hour.” She grumbled and pushed him off of her to walk to the bathroom.

“It’s pretty glamorous isn’t it?”

“I will stab you with my swords.” She shot back from the door. “Food. Go.”

“I obey, my love.” He sang at her before he darted out the door and retrieved her request before he placed a kiss to her lips and went to his meeting.

He walked to his his step father’s old room and knocked. “Come in, Callum.”

Ezran had grown in the past six years from boy to young man and all the while his kingdom and peace grew with him.

“Are you still planning to go to Xadia next week?” His brother looked over papers on his desk with seal and quill in hands. He looked so much more like Harrow now with just little spots of their shared mother in his eyes or the curve of his mouth. His memories of her were fuzzy anymore though he tried to keep them tight to his breast and he wondered if she would have approved of his wife and for the thousandth time he concluded she would have loved Rayla.

“As ambassador it’s sort of our job isn’t it? Liaison and all that?”

“Well.Yes but with her condition I wasn’t sure if you would risk it?”

“Well it’s probably going to be better for her to be there for most of the pregnancy. They are elves after all and if she had the baby there at least she would have her people around her.”

“The trip wouldn’t be too hard?”

Callum snorted and Ezran raised an eyebrow at his brother, “Have you seen her? She’s a ball of energy anymore. Being still and being Rayla don’t mix. I’m sure we’ll be fine with a small contingent of guards like always.”

“Claudia wants to go.”

Callum took a few beats to process Ezran’s words, “What?”

“I told her I would ask you.”

“Why?”

“Because she didn’t want to ask you herself?”

“No I mean why does she want to go?”

“I dunno. Didn’t ask her.”

“Do you think it’s a good idea?”

“Could be. It sort of depends on if you think it’s a good idea. If you can trust her.”

Trust. A loaded word. “I’ll think about it.”

“Okay. Just let me know a day or two before you leave.”

“I felt the baby move.”

“Awesome. Do you think you are going to be a good dad?”

“I’m going to try.”

“Good.”

“Hey. What’s up with you and Anya?”

Ezran’s quill on the page splintered as he jolted and looked up to his brother’s mischievous grin, “Shut up.”

Callum laughed as he walked over and hugged his brother who now blushed red at his tease. “You know I do it cause I love you.”

“Go away.” Ezran laughed and pushed Callum away from him.

“Have a good time with those signatures.” He walked out of his brother’s study and thought about Claudia’s request and when he walked back to his rooms he asked Rayla.

“Do you want her to go?” She asked him then while she stretched her thighs on the floor.

“I don’t know. I’m worried that she’s going to go back to doing Dark Magic or kill some creatures that don’t deserve it.”

“Then tell her no.”

“But she’s trying to repent.”

“Then tell her yes.”

Callum sighed, “You aren’t helping.”

“I don’t care if she comes or not.”

“You don’t?”

“You’re my husband and there’s nothing to be jealous about anymore.”

“Why the sudden change?”

“We’ve been talking a little.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“Do you tell me everyone you talk to?” Rayla sighed.

Callum sighed and looked up at the ceiling while she continued to stretch. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

XxOxX

I have a bit of smut that I wanted to add in here but I decided to keep this story clean for the fluffy people out there. If you would like the second trimester fun times let me know. :) 

[heartfulofsighs]

Baggage Claim Pt. 5

Description: Seunghoon back from a business trip only has a mind for growing his company. You are in the middle of running from the by the book life that was drowning you. When a minor inconvenience sets you in his path will you be the reason he eases up? And could he be what you need to get serious again? 

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 

Hey guys. Sorry I’m so late on this I lost Inspo for a bit but thankfully I had @negrowhat and @bbnightengale to bounce ideas off of even if they didn’t realize I was doing it. Thanks every one for their patience. I appreciate it and don’t worry we are nearing an end...more or less lol. 

He had woken up early. He always woke up early and even despite being out late he still felt mostly rested. He replayed your quick conversation as he got dressed, brushing his teeth and going through the words over and over again. He stared at the picture on his fridge. While he ate his cereal. Bright smile. Somehow he seemed closer to seeing that expression, something that he thought wouldn’t happen. He had assumed that after switching bags he would never see you again. The city was vast and he didn’t have any idea how long you were staying. The party and what you had said made your smile seem more in reach. Now all he needed was a place to take you. He dropped his bowl in the sink and headed out. 

“Squeeze wants out.” The sentence was destroying his good mood. Mino looked very serious. Hoon’s friend and the agency’s lawyer Jinwoo was perched on the edge of his desk shaking his head. “Such a shame.” He said without much feeling. He had no idea. Hoon had spent untold amounts of time going back and forth with them on their campaign. “Did they say why?” Hoon asked. He was trying to keep his anger in check. He hated wasted time. “They got bought.” Mino began. “By a very big beverage company that has its own internal marketing department.” Jinwoo explained, “they’re cancelling our contract.” “But our fee?” Hoon questioned. “They’re willing to pay 30%.” Mino offered. Hoon nearly knocked the small light from his desk. “30%?” He echoed. Jinwoo stood up straight and pulled his cellphone out, “don’t sweat it too much, I’ve already got a meeting set up with their CEO and lawyers.” He tapped away at his phone screen, “I’m gonna try for at least 70%.” “You’re going by yourself?” Hoon questioned. “Shouldn’t we go with you? I don’t want you to be...bullied or-” Jinwoo looked up at him from his phone. The atmosphere in the room changed. His wide doe eyes visibly sharpened, “you really think they can bully me?” He asked pleasantly. “It just doesn’t seem like a fair fight.” Mino said. “Nothing in life is fair. All you guys have to do is send me good vibes...I’ll work it out and then give a call of course.” He said. “I appreciate it...we appreciate it.” Hoon said. It wasn’t often that Jinwoo came in on jobs for them. He was one of their best friends but he was heading up a budding firm. He had his own problems to handle not to mention that he usually wouldn’t take his full payment for any of his work. It drove Mino and Hoon crazy. They solved that problem though. Now they direct deposited his fees instead of giving him checks that he never cashed. “Is the meeting today?” Mino asked. Jinwoo nodded, “yep. I’m gonna get some coffee downstairs and then go. Leave it to me.” His nonchalance was typical but also terrifying. He was going to bring all his persuasive powers against these men. He wondered if he would stop at 70%. He just might push for the whole fee. Seunghoon rubbed his face in annoyance. “What about Seungyoon?” He asked. Though he was afraid to hear the answer. “Haven’t heard anything from him yet.” Mino whispered. He slammed his fist on the desk before leaning back in his chair, eyes closed. “It isn’t the end of the world.” Jinwoo said lightly. “He’s just considering all his options...don’t worry so much.” Hoon heard the sound of a chair scraping the floor. Mino must be standing, “you know how he is.” He said softly. When he opened his eyes they were getting ready to leave. “Good luck.” He said to Jinwoo. The older man waved before walking out. “I’m gonna work on some stuff. Don’t sit here and fume all day.” Mino warned. Funny he should say that because that’s all Hoon could think to do. Mino closed his door as he left and he was alone. This was suppose to be a good day. Things felt like they were going his way. He closed his eyes again and tried to bring that feeling back. He began to envision your picture hanging on his fridge smiling brightly. He took a huge breath in then out. He thought of you laughing at the event. That was a good smile too. Before he could talk himself out of the phone call he found your number and hit the call button. His mind felt like it was rolling. Everything was so mixed up. But the sound of your voice stopped it. “Hi?” He soaked up the single syllable and smiled when he responded. The conversation had gone by in a blaze. When he hung out one thing was concrete. He was going to pick you up. He looked down at his desk and then at his computer screen. Where was he going to take you?

Cherry made you try on combination after combination. It felt like you had put on every single piece of clothing you had brought with you. “I think that sort of flouncy shirt is nice, with the shorts.” Cherry sniffed as she talked. You picked up the shirt in question and put it back on. It was off the shoulder with flouncy sleeves that hid a bit of your arm jiggle. Not that you minded it but you only wanted to have one area to be concerned over. The shorts weren’t overly short but it was more thigh then you were planning on. “You don’t think this is too much skin?” You asked slowly. You looked at yourself in the mirror. Cherry sneezed then shook her head. “I think you look perfect, wear your white converse, take that jean jacket and we have an outfit!” She declared. She sneezed again and you made a note in your mind to carefully, quietly, spray the room down with Lyesol.     You coaxed all of your hair into a high ponytail before you figured you were done.  It felt like he took a long time. The waiting killed you. Cherry drank her tea and managed to make herself a little oatmeal. You watched her eat because there wasn’t much else to do. Maybe you were too excited? Watching Cherry felt more sane then watching your phone and hoping for the screen to light up. “Maybe he figured out what was wrong at his job?” You said softly to yourself. “It’s been barely 30 minutes...he’s probably leaving to come get you now…” She said as she swirled her spoon through her oatmeal. “Don’t think too hard about this.” She teased. It didn’t take too much longer before your phone lit up. It slid across the table before you picked it up. “Hello?” You listened to some shuffling and then his voice came over the line. “I’m downstairs.” He said quietly. You stood up gathering your bag. Cherry watched you her spoon in her mouth. “Have fun!” She called as you rushed to the door. Seunghoon had a tight look on his face. His features were pulled into worry and you figured whatever it was that happened at his job was pretty bad.    “Where are we going?” You asked quietly. He turned to you his eyes lingering on your outfit before he cleared his throat.    “You look really pretty.” He began.    “Thanks.”    “I’m gonna take you to the boardwalk amusement park. It’s real dumb and there are always a lot of tourist.” He sounded triumphant by the time he finished his sentence. His features eased a bit and the worry you had seen when you got in the car faded. “Perfect.” You said.  

The drive to the pier was a quiet one. You hummed along to whatever played on the radio. All the tension that he had left the office with melted as soon as you got into the car. He had been right to ditch work. To make an excuse and just disappear. Mino hadn’t been suspicious at all. He had looked up from his computer and waved. “Everything is going to work out. Don’t worry too much.” He had said. He had given Hoon a reassuring smile. He peeked at you. The window was open and the wind was blowing your hair around. You didn’t seem to mind, you kept your eyes watching the scenary. It wasn’t far to the boardwalk and he enjoyed watching your hair and your smile out of the corner of his eye. He pulled into the parking lot which was fuller then he thought it would be. You didn’t give him a chance to open your door. You were pulling on the handle, bouncing out with a huge smile on your face. He got out and walked to your side. You had your phone out to snap a picture of the rides.    “You haven’t come here yet right?” He asked. You turned and shook your head. The park was picturesque. You could see the rollercoaster rising up from the boardwalk, the sky and ocean a backdrop of blue. There was a ferris wheel and one of those swinging dragon ship rides.      “It’s on my list though.” You confessed. He watched as you took a moment to look him over. A confused look on your face.    “What?” He asked. He looked down at his slacks to see if he had spilled something on himself. Satisfied, he then gave his arms a glance. His clothes were immaculate. The idea of changing hadn’t occurred to him. He figured he wouldn’t stand out too much especially since there wouldn’t be many people there on a weekday.    “I’m guessing you came straight from your office?” You asked as you looked his outfit over more.    “Yes.” He answered.  You put your phone away in your pocket a determined look on your face. He liked it, your nose scrunched and he imagined if you had sleeves that could be pulled up, you would.      “May I?” You asked quietly. He nodded and you stepped closer, “ok, lose the jacket.” You said. He pulled his jacket off immediately and held it awkwardly.    “Your shirt, do you have an undershirt on?” You asked. He nodded again and you smiled, “good, take this fancy one off then.” He did. You were nice enough to hold his jacket while he fiddled through with the buttons. He could feel you watching him shrug it off but he decided not to think too hard about it. Once it was off, he put both the shirt and jacket into the trunk of his car. When he came back he made sure to stand the same distance away from you. You didn’t seem bothered by him being that close. In fact it helped because the finishing touch was you lifting your arms and ruffling his hair. You were so close. He could smell vanilla from your body wash, and felt your breath before you pulled away to look at him again. His heart was going a million miles an hour. All he could think about was leaning forward and kissing you. But you were gone too soon, a new big smile on your face.    “Better.” You pronounced. Your hands wrapped around his arm and you began to pull, “now let’s get this forget about work day started!”

You had to treat it as frivolous. If you let your mind dwell on things then you wouldn’t be able to led him happily. You would be too nervous. You pulled him to the swinging dragon ship first The line wasn’t too long and before you knew it the two of you were being directed by a very disinterested teenager.    “No running.” He drawled. As he waved back and forth indicating the ramp.  Hoon followed you to the back row. You shuffled in all the way to the end and plopped down next to you.    “It feels like a million years since I’ve been on one of these.” He said as he fixed his belt. You watched his long fingers and lamented the fact that you hadn’t even thought about a manicure since you landed. For a moment you found yourself annoyed about how grubby you imagined your nails looked next to his perfect ones. You were so caught up in the sudden thought, that he fixed your seatbelt for you. His perfect hands snapping the safety belt at your waist and tightening it quickly. He sat up straight and sighed. He seemed the slightest bit excited. His tiny hint of a smile made you forget about everything. You wanted to see what that smile could grow into.    “Don’t forget to hold your arms up.” You said. He nodded at you very seriously, as if you were giving him very intricate instructions.   The swinging ship loosened him up. He laughed, he held his arms up and screamed with everyone else. At the highest point he grabbed your arm as the ship swung forward. You closed your eyes and leaned into him screaming as your stomach dropped. You could hear his shouting throw his chest as you hung on.   You couldn’t stop giggling as you got off and he reflected your energy. His hand was still in yours, he was leading you back down the ramp looking back every so often. It was almost as if he thought you wouldn’t be there from one step to the next. You gripped his hand with more strength laughing still. His hair was even more ruffled and he was projecting calm and contentment.    “Where to next?” You asked. He surveyed the park and you got a chance to study his profile. His face was helped by the soft smile on his lips. You hoped he would keep it, you hoped that you would get to see it all day.      “You wanna try the bumper cars?” He asked as he turned to you again. You nodded, you didn’t mind him leading you around after all it was his day to relax. Everything was a laugh, the bumper cars, the merry-go-round, the rollercoaster. He bought you both the typical boardwalk snacks. Hotdogs and french fries, cotton candy that he playfully broke off the stick to feed you. The act was just silly enough to not get your imagination going too hot. His frown was long gone. He followed behind you, snacking on popcorn when you spotted what you had been looking for all day. The photo booth. You stopped dead, “a photo booth.” You said excitedly.  He stopped next you his chewing loud. He threw a piece into the air and managed to catch it in his mouth. He looked triumphant and his goofy face made you laugh even more.   “You wanna take pictures?” He asked. The booth looked tiny but you could imagine the pictures looking so cute. You wanted something to remember today. Something to remind you of the time you got him to fully smile, just in case you didn’t happen to see him again. Of course you would want pictures. You could put the strip of photos up in your room and even take them with you when you had to go….     The booth was a little indeed smaller on the inside then you had anticipated. He sat on the bench finishing off the last of his popcorn. When you hesitated he patted the spot next to him expectantly. You sat trying your best to not crowd him. Hoon didn’t seem to mind at all. He edged closer to you and set his paper popcorn bag under the bench. His arms were long enough that he didn’t have to stand back up to feed the machine money. “So silly faces first?” He asked. There was a beeping sound, you turned just in time to stick your tongue out at the camera. Then you gave him bunny ears, crossed your eyes, blew the camera a kiss, every time the camera snapped you giggled. The pictures printed on a photo strip that he swiped from the slot. “How do we look?” You asked as you tried to see them. He was studying them so intently you thought maybe they hadn’t developed well. “Cute.” He finally said. Then he leaned forward again, “but let’s do one more set…” He fed the machine more money then leaned back. “What should we do for this one?” You asked. He looked at you while the machine beeped away in warning. “Smile really big.” He directed. You had just a moment to do it. To pull your lips into a big smile and actually mean it. It had been such a long while since you had meant it. You felt for the first time in a long while like yourself. You hadn’t taken this trip to become a better version of you. What you wanted was to just feel normal. Happy.   The camera snapped, then the warning beep sound started again. You felt his arm around your shoulders, he pulled you even closer laying a kiss on your cheek right at the second snap. The beep again and you looked up at him. He was leaning in. “Are you going to kiss me?” You whispered. “Can I?” He asked. The camera snapped. The beeping started again. You answered with an affirmative hum pushing your lips against his right as the camera snapped again. His hand cupped your cheek and you felt yourself melt into him.  It was probably a bad idea for you to be kissing a man you barely knew. If you were home this wouldn’t be happening, if you were home you wouldn’t be out at all. But you liked him. You couldn’t deny the very obvious pull and what was the point of waiting? Didn’t everyone say time was fleeting? You wanted to kiss him, to keep kissing him. There was no harm in having things that you wanted. For a moment you forgot where you were. Your mind had begun to glaze over a bit. He pulled away, his thumb tracing back and forth on your cheek. You tried your best to not give away your disappointment. “Ummm excuse me?” A small voice drifted into the booth. For a moment neither of you moved until there was a knock. You pulled away from him, sticking your head through the dark curtain. There was a little girl standing outside expectantly. Her mother was holding her hand but it was very obvious that she was the spokesperson. “Are you done? Can me and my mommy use the booth now?” She asked loudly. You could hear Seunghoon chuckling. “We’re done.” You said to her. He was right behind you as you cleared the curtain. “Sorry we took so long.” He said down to her as you passed.

All he wanted to do was relive the photo booth. He had the picture strips in his hands. He gazed down at them as he followed behind you oblivious to everything else. In his pocket his cellphone buzzed. He ignored it like he had been ignoring it all day. He didn’t want to know about anything involving his job. He wanted to keep thinking about your lips instead.    “Are there any other rides you wanna get on?” You asked. He looked up stopping just in time to not run into you. “Pick something, we can do whatever you want.” He said. “Are you going to let me have one of those?” You asked abruptly. You were looking at the pictures a slow smile creeping across your face. “Which one do you want?” He asked. “The silly faces one.” You answered automatically.  You held your hands out palms up expectantly. So cute. The way you smiled at him expectantly, what was he going to do? He handed over the strip you wanted and you looked your faces over. He stepped even closer his hand reaching for your hair, “thank you.” He said softly. He pushed some of it behind your ear. A gesture he had seen hundreds of times in the movies, it felt so different to do it in real life. “For what?” You asked innocently. For what? For making him feel like he could actually breath. For putting a smile on his face, for making the day about something other than his job. But he didn’t know exactly how to say all that. “This day was really relaxing, thanks for coming with me.” He finally said. You shrugged his thanks off, “it’s no big deal, I know how it is.” You replied. “Can we have more days?” He asked quickly before he lost his nerve, “if we both aren’t busy?” He added. For a second he could see your hesitation but then you nodded. “Sure, I don’t mind.” You said. “It can be sort of like a fling?” You suggested. His heart hammered. No. But he nodded his head because what else could he do? If a fling was all he could have then a fling would be what he took.

[literarycat]

here’s my @kagepro-secret-santa gift for @sablyte !!! i’m so sorry for the lateness on this one, but I really do hope that you enjoy reading it half as much as I enjoyed writing it.  they asked for a bit of winter-themed ayataka fluff, so I gave them a winter carnival date!! 

Takane shifted restlessly from her position on the park bench.  She had her headphones up, heavily covering her ears, and an upbeat tune blasted from it, thoroughly tuning her out from the rest of the world.  The music was far less angry than she usually listened to, some near-pop tune about a first kiss.  This was because Takane wasn’t in nearly as bad a mood as her retreated posture would imply.  In fact, she felt downright peachy.

Today, she and Ayano were going on a date.  

She’d shown a little trepidation back when Ayano had suggested the idea of going to a winter festival, seeing as huge crowds and loud noises weren’t exactly her thing, but… Ayano had convinced her without even trying, showing just a hint of disappointment at Takane’s hesitation.  She could suck it up for her, she determined.  Her desire to have fun with her girlfriend overrode her desire to stay holed up inside.

Besides, there were apparently shooting games involved.

She quickly straightened her posture as she saw a familiar shock of red in the passerby.  Ayano’s face emerged a few moments later as she waved furiously at the seated girl.  “Hello!  Sorry you had to wait for me, I just got off the train.” “It’s alright.”  Takane smiled, pulling her head just a little bit out of where she’d retreated into her coat’s oversized collar and hood.  She tugged her headphones down a moment later, having already paused the music the moment she saw Ayano approach.  “You ready to go?” “Yep!”  They were already almost at the entrance, the festival rising before them like an enormous, colorful, lights-decorated village.  To Takane, it might as well have been a death sentence.

Seeing her blanch at the crowds, Ayano turned towards Takane, suddenly concerned.  “You okay?” she asked, gently squeezing her girlfriend’s hand.  “If the people are too much, we can go somewhere else.”

Takane shook her head.  “It’s fine,” she reassured, but Ayano still looked worried.  “It’s way better when I’m with you.”

Ayano grinned, a blush spreading across both her already rosy cheeks.  “You’re so sweet,” she giggled.  She squeezed her hand again, entwining both their glove-clad fingers.  “Let’s go, then!  I saw some shops over there that I wanted to take a look at!”

Takane nodded, letting herself get pulled along by the more excited young woman. She was grateful to just give in to Ayano’s enthusiasm, letting it drive them both.  She was, clearly, more than happy to provide enough cheerfulness for both of them.

The two of them rushed to the colorfully-tented stalls showcasing a variety of goods.  The first one they passed was a food stall, and the sugary scent of funnel cake and powdered sugar hit their noses first.  Takane wrinkled her nose at the overly sweet sensation, but Ayano beamed.  “Doesn’t it smell amazing?”

“That’s one word for it,” Takane muttered.  Ayano, catching her displeasure, moved on without buying anything.  There were a few more food stands around, including ones cotton candy and giant, comically large lollipops filled with rainbow spirals.  To Takane’s relief, however, the food and candy quickly fell away to reveal tangible goods and souvenirs.

“Look!” Ayano said suddenly, plucking a tiny object off the next table and waving it in front of her girlfriend’s face.  “It’s a little panda bear!”

The bear was tiny, fitting easily in the palm of her hand.  It was made of crochet, with two little black beads for eyes and a shiny sewn-in nose.  Takane tilted her head, expression blank.  “Looks scary.” “Does not!” “Like it’d eat you or something.” “It wouldn’t!” Ayano protested.  She spoke in a falsetto, waving the little bear back and forth with every word.  “Hi, Takane!  I’m a cute little bear who just wants to be your friend!”

Takane had to suppress a smile at that.  She searched the myriad of animals laid out on the crochet table, picking up a tiger between her two fingers.  She suddenly whirled around, launching it towards Ayano’s bear. “Well, I’m a big tiger, and I’m going to eat your bear!”

“Eek!” Ayano giggled, hiding the bear reflexively behind her.  “Be nice!”

Takane pushed back an even stronger smile, forcing a scowl on her face as she readied the tiger for its next attack - but she was interrupted by the merchant at the stall clearing her throat.  “Sorry to interrupt, girls, but these aren’t meant to be toys.” Ayano flushed.  “Sorry,” she said meekly, replacing the panda to its proper place.  Takane followed suit, though she glared in the general direction of the stall owner.  The two examined the remaining animals in a more subdued manner, hardly touching them.

“This one’s cute,” Ayano said, brushing her fingers gingerly across a white rabbit.  It was small, rounder than actual hares, and attached to a golden chain.  It was a backpack charm, Takane noticed belatedly.  Ayano always loved those.  Takane watched her fingers hover over the rabbit for a few more seconds, then she dropped her gaze and moved her hand away.  “Sort of silly to have one in high school though, I’d bet.” Takane couldn’t bear even the hint of a crestfallen expression on her face.  Plucking the rabbit up with an earnest finality, she shoved it in the general direction of the merchant - who could only smile, bemused.  “I want this one.” Almost immediately after the transaction was completed, Takane felt her left side crushed in a hug.  “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Ayano gushed, scarf tickling against Takane’s neck.  Takane huffed, retreating further inside the tall collar of her coat.

“Okay, I get it!” she huffed, cheeks heating up with a rapid blush.  “You like the gift.” “I love it,” Ayano corrected, already undoing the clasp to attach the rabbit to her purse.  “Thank you.” Takane, face still hot, waved her gratitude away with one hand.  “Let’s just move on.” As they struck out from the shopping area into the more crowded middle lane, Takane felt her patience waning.  Ayano kept looking back at her worriedly, asking her repeatedly if she was alright, and Takane always answered in the affirmative - but it was hard for her to fully enjoy herself.

Hard, at least until she saw a familiar shape rising up ahead of them.

“Is that-!” she perked up with genuine enthusiasm, almost pulling ahead of Ayano in her attempt to catch a glimpse.

Ayano chuckled.  “It is.”  In front of them, tall and utterly imposing, lay the alley of carnival games - with a shooting game directly in the center.  

Takane actually whooped, competitive nature overriding her social anxiety, and dragged her girlfriend forward towards it.  The merchant looked at the two with an almost condescending smile, ready to give his general spiel about how to win, but Takane cut him off with a wad of bills shoved underneath his nose.

“Get ready to lose, old man,” she snapped with utter confidence.  Ayano merely giggled behind a gloved hand, staring at the giant stuffed animals hanging above them.  

Takane’s boasting did not go unfulfilled.  She hit all five targets for six games in a row, only stopping because the merchant was practically begging for her to move on.  She’d already won the main prize - three times over.  It was with an immensely self-satisfied grin that Takane accepted the three enormous plush animals: one bear, one dog, and one weirdly-shaped animal of indiscernible species that Takane figured was the mascot of the carnival brand.  It was somewhere between an elephant and a monkey, it was mottled blue and pink, and it was ugly as anything she’d ever seen. 

“Why’d you pick that last one?” Ayano questioned, other two prizes tucked neatly under her arm.  She’d asked for the bear, since she thought her younger siblings would like it, and she figured the dog was for Haruka.   “It’s so awful, isn’t it?” Takane asked, inspecting the animal with barely hidden glee.  Ayano nodded, confused, and her classmate continued, “I’m going to give it to Shintaro.” There was a beat of silence, then Ayano broke out in a frown.  “That’s so mean,” she chided, drowned out by Takane’s cackling laughter.  After a beat, she joined in, giggling neatly behind a hand.  She was more amused by Takane’s outrageous, movie-villain laughter than she was by the action itself - though the idea of Shintaro’s face upon being faced with this monstrosity was pretty funny.

“You know,” Ayano mused quietly.  “I should be the one to give it to him.  He likes me a lot more than he likes you, and if I pretended like it was a real gift…” She trailed off, leaving her intentions clear with a mischievous grin.

Takane balked at her.  “And you called me mean.” The two laughed all the way down the main street, dragging their prizes in their wake.

The two passed by several other carnival games as they went, but aside from Ayano giving the milk jug toss a try (she failed, miserably, and the two decided to cut their losses before they even began), they were satisfied in the victories they’d already attained.

It was a pleasant walk through the rest of the carnival, with the two headed towards their unspoken destination: the ferris wheel.  The largest attraction of the place, and the one Ayano was, by her increased pace, the most excited to experience.

Takane couldn’t blame her.  She was a bit of a hopeless romantic, Ayano, always striving for that movie-magic moment of true love.  Hopefully, she was able to provide it.

The two waited in line for what seemed like hours, Ayano bouncing on her heels and people watching while Takane slid her headphones over her ears.  It wasn’t a rude gesture at all, and Ayano knew it - it was just how she passed the time.  Ayano didn’t bother trying to talk to the girl while she had her music playing, but she’d occasionally tap her shoulder to point out a particularly interesting balloon animal, or a costumed performer.  Takane, for her part, didn’t let her attention stray too far from her date.

Finally, they were at the front of the line - and the attendant gave them a once-over, eyeing their enormous stuffed animals with something close to exhaustion.  “You getting on together?” “Yep!” Ayano tucked the dog further under her arm to grab Takane’s hand, and the two pulled themselves (and their plush companions) into the rather small compartment.  The door shut behind them, and Ayano scooted herself closer to Takane on the bench - then they were off.

At first, neither of them were inclined to speak.  The view was utterly gorgeous, and they watched the carnival they’d just spent a few hours wandering through turn to figurine size beneath them.  Ayano then leaned back, focusing her gaze upwards at the stars.  “Isn’t it beautiful,” she breathed, air coming out in a visible puff.  The car was closed, but still cold; the observing glass wasn’t much insulated from the outside.

Takane watched her fondly, scooting over a bit to lay her hand over Ayano’s.  She had to move the teddy bear to do so, and it flopped disgracefully down on its belly.  “The stars aren’t the only beautiful thing around,” she murmured, already feeling a wave of embarrassment from using the line.

Ayano suddenly flushed a crimson that rivaled her scarf, turning her attention back to Takane with a snap.  “Enomoto!” she snapped, using her last name as if she was chiding her - but her expression showed anything but.  She was pleased, more so than Takane expected. 

She’d have to keep it a secret that she stole the line from one of her favorite visual novels.

Takane cocked her head, giving Ayano a nearly teasing smile, and the girl relented, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.  “You are too much,” Ayano said warmly.  Takane’s smile only grew, confidence slowly taking the place of embarrassment.  She knew what those characters had done next, after all.

With familiar slowness, the two grew close, lips meeting just as the ferris wheel reached its highest point.  The car sat there a while, and the two separated; flushed, Takane dipped her head to hide her grin.  “Thanks for convincing me to come out here, Ayano.” “Anytime.”  Her eyes shone with pure, unbridled joy; Takane knew without her saying anything that she’d given her just the fairytale moment of romance she’d wanted.

Cheeks still tinted with pink, Takane settled back in her seat, entwining her chilled fingers with Ayano’s covered ones.  The two settled against each other on the bench, watching the city lights grow from specks as they slowly descended back towards the ground.

Takane wasn’t one for sappy stuff (trashy visual novels excluded), but she was starting to see why Ayano was so into all that.

Sitting there, with Ayano at her side, she was so utterly, wholly sure that she was in love.  And the feeling was incredible.

[ncfan-1]

Gotham 04 X 22, ‘No Man’s Land’

So, season finale. Let’s see if it’s as dramatic as a season finale should be, or if the drama all falls flat on its face. Odds are, there will be way too much going on this week. This is Gotham.

- We open with Selina being taken to the hospital. “Are you gonna leave me?” Given Selina’s past, this is even more heartbreaking than it otherwise would have been.

- We then go to the cops deliberately trying to get a rise out of Jeremiah. Jim finally breaks up the starefest so he can talk to Jeremiah. Jeremiah tells him there are more bombs. Jim tries to write it off as a bluff,

- And Strange is just… back. No fanfare. And he’s fascinated with Butch, because of course he is. I feel sorry for the blood “donors”, and the Butch x Tabby is ugh. I am grateful that Tabitha learning what happened to Selina immediately takes her mind off of Butch. I can hardly blame her for wanting to kill Jeremiah.

- And the mayor is unilaterally lifting the evacuation order, because he’s a jackass. And there’s just a man staring from an opposite roof at them. I’m pretty sure it’s Ra’s.

- Yeah, it’s Ra’s. And the building the mayor was in (I don’t know if it was City Hall or what) blows up.

- Police brutality. Yeah, because it’s not like punching Jeremiah’s head against a wall is gonna, say, give him a concussion and induce memory loss. Jackass.

- And it turns out government outside of Gotham actually exists, because martial law has been established. I like the major. I like him even more after he arrests Jim Gordon for doing shit that would actually get him arrested. Of course the major is Wrong for Plot Reasons, but it’s nice to see someone lay down the law with Jim for once. And of course, this raises the question of why martial law wasn’t established, say, during the S3 finale, but whatever. Reality is finally taking effect.

- And Ed has intercepted Jim so he can capture and presumably do nasty things to him.

- Jim wakes up somewhere with Ed screaming in his face. The stuff of nightmares. Not his being a prisoner, his having to spend involuntary time with Ed.

- Ed has no creativity in his torture methods, I swear to God.

- Reference Giles Corey, you asshole. Make my day.

- No, you’re not going to reference Giles Corey. Of course not.

- And Ed makes no bones about what he wants for Lee. He wants Lee to be what he wants to be.

- Ra’s wants Barbara to come with him. Interesting.

- He lied about the woman in the portrait. Obviously. You don’t have a portrait painted of a woman you don’t care for in that day and age.

- “We can rule the world together, Barbara!” Of course Barbara isn’t having it.

- Are they doing a Hannibal Lecter thing with Jeremiah? I’ve never seen Silence of the Lambs before—never been interested—so I can’t say for sure.

- Villains pull this “we are so much alike” thing with heroes a lot. It’s honestly pretty old.

- And just as Bruce finds out Jeremiah’s teamed up with Ra’s al-Ghul, someone infiltrates the police station. Honestly, I hope it’s Tabitha. She’s overdue to do a-killin’.

- For the record, I would like Cameron Monaghan to be the Joker. But if Jeremiah has to die, I hope it’s Tabitha who kills him. She’s at her most likable when she’s filling the role of Selina’s mentor/surrogate parent-big sister.

- 350 pounds, huh? I’m pretty sure Jim should have suffocated by now. Or not. I’m no doctor, I’m just a viewer. With a lot of opinions.

- Lee is about as impressed as I am. That is to say, not at all.

- And she rips him apart. I am grinning.

- And of course Ed has to gloat. Because of course.

- Barbara, Tabitha, Alfred, and Oswald teaming up is the team-up I never knew I needed, but I’m so glad it’s here. This is wonderful. I’m so happy.

- Is Jim x Lee over? Please say it’s over.

- And Bruce has been dragged before Ra’s.

- “You brought us together.” Seriously? Fuck off. By no measure is this Bruce’s fault.

- And Ra’s is gonna make Bruce watch as Gotham burns. Of course he is.

- Alexander Siddig is great. I know I keep saying it, but I keep saying it because it bears repeating.

- Gotham, I know you want me to think that the police turning on the army is supposed to be a good thing, but honestly, no. Just no. The major is obstructive and wrong because Plot, not because it actually makes sense for him to be obstructive.

- Battle Royale in Ra’s’s house. And Oswald of all people saved Tabitha’s life.

- Barbara grabbing Bruce so they can kill Ra’s is a great thing.

- Is Ra’s dead for real this time? I’m gonna miss Alexander Siddig.

- Gotta say, the moment of the bridges blowing up was not nearly as affecting as it could have been. Maybe it’s because I’m from the Albany area in Georgia and there was a, umm, event in living memory (okay, fine, it was the mother of all floods brought on by a tropical storm that decided to stick around in mid-Georgia way longer than it should have been) that tells us that even when bridges are impassable, life still goes on. A bit more difficultly for people who are completely cut off, but the waters receded from the roads leading in and out of Macon after a few days, and in the case of the island that was cut off here… That’s what ferries are for. Life’s not gonna be great, sure, not until the bridges are repaired, but it’s not the end of the world. Things are gonna be at the worst only for the first week or two after this, but order will be reestablished eventually. Unless there’s a second part to this plan, it’s… kinda underwhelming.

- Ed, the city is at least partially on fire, and you’re talking about your relationship?

- Lee just stabbed Ed. Oh, glorious. And she even calls out the fact that he would have just killed her eventually.

- And then he stabs her, and it’s not so great anymore.

- Are they just… gonna die?

- Tabitha and Oswald head back to Strange’s place. Butch is back to normal. Tell me Oswald’s gonna kill him now.

- “I love you!” Sounds fake. So fake.

- And Oswald’s standing in the background, presumably waiting for the best time to strike.

- Yep!

- Are we gonna get a Gertrud reference? Yes! And even Oswald seems to recognize that Tabitha’s feelings for Barbara are… shallow. They’d have to be, to waver so easily.

- Bruce chooses searching for Jeremiah over Selina. Of course, this is a prime Batman decision, but damn, Selina’s not going to be happy when she wakes up. And Alfred goes with Selina in the ambulance.

- Somehow I doubt that injury to Selina’s spinal cord is really permanent. Because, you know. Prequel Syndrome strikes again.

- And apparently the power is out, so maybe I was wrong about Jeremiah’s plan being underwhelming.

- And the freaks are busy carving up the city. Oh, Bridgit, what happened to your characterization? That’s what fanfic is for, I suppose, but it still rankles.

- Someone stumbled on Jonathan’s lab—clearly assuming he stumbled onto someone’s meth lab. He’s got a new hat. “Hell is what’s coming.” Jonathan seems to know what’s up.

- Strange’s got his hands on Ed and Lee. That’s… really bad.

- Ra’s’s goons have come to offer fealty to Barbara. Barbara is not impressed. She’s considerably more animated when Tabitha shows up. And she’s suddenly a misandrist for some reason. Why, I have no fucking clue.

- Lucius has got the lights back on. It turns out the battery bombs really do work as generators.

- What the hell? Where did the man-sized bat who looks like he stepped out of a 70s B-Movie and the people in the porcelain masks and late Victorian clothing come from?

- No offense, but Jim and Bruce’s conversation has completely failed to move me.

- Well, I was right. There was way too much going on.

[tomhollandarling]

This Isn’t You

Request: Anonymous said: ok but like what if a villain is controlling peter and the villain makes him fight (name) who is also his gf and after he regains possession of his own mind and actions he apologizes to her swearing he’d never lay a finger on her and peppering her with kisses!!! pls make this happen?

A/N: This request was such a cute concept! I tried my best to make it realistic with the situation so I made the reader (girlfriend) have powers too. I’m not that familiar with writing action scenes or kiss scenes, but I did try my best and this was a good way to start developing those skills and practice writing it. Sorry its kind of long! I wanted to give enough time to create a reasonable fight. I may write a short drabble or would include of “Laying in Bed with Peter Parker” to make up for it.(also hopefully the perspective switches aren't that confusing) wow im a mess im sorry if you hate it

Word Count: 4561

Warnings: cursing, reader gets harmed

Masterlist

Ever since Vulture had the nerve to mess with alien technology, more and more criminals and thieves alike began to jump on the bandwagon. It was months after Vulture’s capture but some of his weapons were still hiding in the nooks of New York waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. When discovered with the wrong hands, it was only a matter of time before crime rates surged again.

The setting sun marked another day gone as Peter Parker swung from rooftop to rooftop trying to catch rogue convicts. He halted along the blank concrete surface of an apartment complex, finally catching a break. Making his way to the edge and settling down, his back against the stone, he carefully lifted off his mask. The cool breeze of the nearing dusk instantly hit his exposed skin, soothing him as his chest heaved up and down.

It was quite an eventful night of crime. Already, Peter had ceased an attempted assault, robbery, and car theft. But what he didn’t expect was another electric blue explosion coming from his right in the distance; it was all too similar from months previous. The commotion reminded Peter of the ATM robbers and the night of Liz Allan’s party. It had to be the same tech. He pulled out his phone, tapping it a few times before bringing it up to his ear and speaking.

“I got another one. You up for it?” He paused for a few seconds, listening to the response before adding, “I’ll get there first, just track me.”

Peter’s eyes narrowed on the fading glow as he equipped the infamous mask once again and ended the call, swinging off in the direction the explosion spawned from. He stealthily neared the site: one of New York’s many parking garages, and waited out the remaining time in the shadows, just outside the entrance, until his backup arrived.

--

It was a surprise to get a phone call from Spider-man, but everything was a surprise when it came from him nowadays. You’d only recently learned about his true identity: Peter Parker. Being a vigilante yourself, you two had met fighting a band of gangsters one night. He’d saved your life that day. Without his quick thinking, there would’ve been a bullet lodged into your brain.

Deciding to keep your identities secret from each other was a compromise necessary for protection but eventually trust got in between that. It was careless as much as it was reckless but that didn’t stop you two. He knew your name and you knew his. Many of your nights ended with you falling asleep wrapped in his arms, him admiring the way your eyelashes fluttered.

Still, the both of you reasoned to fight crime separately, unless extra help was needed, in order to preserve the working relationship that had developed. Peter didn’t want anyone to use you to get to him and you’d thought the same for him. The two of you would take every other night off, one always going out while the other took a rest day.

Tonight was an exception. Slipping off your couch, you paced back to your room and closed your door as lightly as you could, turning the handle just before it made contact with the frame to avoid the click of the lock. It was only a matter of minutes before you had transformed into your other persona. Similar to Peter’s suit, yours was thin and skintight to achieve quick and fluent movements, only you didn’t have a full face mask and yours wasn’t designed by Tony Stark. Your mask solely covered around your eyes but it still did the job of concealing your identity.

You strapped on your heat protectant gloves and zipped up a hoodie to hide your suit before sneaking out of your apartment. Luckily, your father was working late and your mother didn’t pay much attention. Thanks to a mishap at the wrong place at the wrong time with supernatural energy, science gifted you the ability to manipulate and partially create fire.

“Hey, mom? I’m going over to (friend’s name) to finish up our project.” You lied without waiting for a response.

Traffic was heavy tonight, the city lights blinding, but you managed to get to Peter quicker than expected. He’d given you access to the tracking device located inside his suit for cases like this. Alien tech was tricky to take down so he needed the backup.

It was dark now, the sunset fading as the moon woke up and the first stars appeared. “Hey.” You said simply, squeezing his shoulder. “What’s the plan?”

He turned and embraced you in a quick hug, greeting you. “Hey!” He smiled from under the mask, “I know there’s at least one alien gun, maybe two. Could be dangerous-actually y-yeah. It’s dangerous.” He seemed to be regretting calling you for help.

You smirked, folding your arms across your chest. “I’m always up for a challenge, Spidey. Don’t think I can handle danger?” You faked offence, stepping backwards.

His head tilted side to side in sarcasm. You could only imagine his eye roll. “I just get this vibe. Why would they be shooting their guns like this? I don’t want you to get hurt.”

You pulled your mask from inside the sweatshirt pocket, right before you discarded the garment, and smoothed it over your face. “I got you and you got me. Don’t worry about it. We’ve done this before, remember?”

Just then, another explosion set off, emitting blue light once again. Residual waves of power spread from the source, forcing both of you backwards before Peter could respond.

“I know.” He checked his wrist web status.

“Okay, okay.” You said, becoming more serious. “You swing up there but stay hidden. Maybe I distract them and you can web the guns?” You improvised a plan. There wasn’t much time and you wanted to stop this childsplay as soon as possible. “Just don’t do what you did at the ferry again. We don’t need this car garage coming down on us.”

“That was one time! I got this.” Peter looked determined and he pressed a few buttons on his wrist. “Alright. You okay going up there?” He asked, stepping closer towards the building.

“Yeah, I got the stairs.”

--

Maybe it wasn’t the best of plans, but it would have to do. While you were weaving your way between the levels of the garage, Peter used the time to scope out the scene. He positioned himself on the outside of the building but in a place so he could see the level where the weapons were being fired. There were two men messing around with a few different guns, firing them at the walls of the garage, oblivious to the scene they were causing. To his surprise, they weren’t hurting anyone or holding someone hostage. Something’s off. Over the few months that Peter had experience with alien tech, the users usually had a motive. The gadgets were expensive and in most cases the risks outweighed the benefits.

“He here yet?” Another man appeared from the shadows. Peter instantly recognized him. This was one of Vulture’s original workers, one that got away months ago. Was he still selling weapons?

“I dunno boss. It’s only been like, ten minutes. Besides, these guns are sick. New designs?” The man looked to be in his late 20’s and didn’t seem to be too bright as he was handling the gun without care.

“These things are freaky, man.” The other commented, shooting a beam through a Ford truck, blasting a hole through the front door. It sizzled and sparked as smoke started pluming from the impact. The two chuckled giddily like they were getting away with something.

“Do you remember the plan?” He said with authority, ignoring the question. “We didn’t come here to have target practice, Marcel, Austin. Act like you care.” He spat.

Marcel, the man who had just shot the truck, spoke in defense, taking a few exaggerated steps closer towards him. “You think I don’t remember the plan? You think I don’t realize what shit I’m in? Why else would I agree to help your ass and risk mine?”

“Why? Why.” He repeated in disbelief, “That bug of a teenager ruined my life. Our lives. I had to sell all my shit in order to keep designing these weapons” He pulled out a smaller gun from his hoodie, waving it rudely in their faces. Were they talking about me? I’m not a bug dude!

Austin, the other man, mockingly nodded, “What’s in it for us?”

“Yeah. All you do is use us for your petty revenge plans. Remember Logan?” Marcel was referring to a previous job, Peter assumed. Probably one that went south.

“8 years! 8 years without a word from the feds or the Avengers and then that makeshift hero showed up and...well, you saw what happened to Vulture! It took some time but now I know how to ruin him.” He paced around angrily. Yep, they were definitely talking about him. This is a trap. Shit.

Peter quickly tried to find a way to alert you but he couldn’t move without the men noticing. Come on come on come on! There wasn’t anything he could do in time.

“Don’t you two remember how much you had before all this went down a few months ago?”

“We had Logan.” Austin hissed back.

--

It wasn’t too hard to locate where the commotion originated. Three men were fighting about something—not that you cared—and it was time to bring it to a close. They were on the 6th level and you’d taken the stairs so it took a bit to reach the men.

“Sorry to interrupt this family feud but...those weapons gotta go.” You confidently strode up from the stairwell, folding your arms, and facing the criminals. “You know those are illegal right?”

Marcel aimed his gun at you but their leader held up a hand to prevent him from striking. He grinned, “Now, what is a pretty girl like you doing out on a night like this?”

Your eyes shot daggers as you scoffed. “Oh, you know, just maybe, I’m here to take you fools down for those guns. Just a thought. You can’t shoot things off without someone noticing by the way.”

“Three against one isn’t that great of chances.” Austin spoke as a warning, his hand gripping his weapon.

“No Spider-man with you?”

“I’ll take that bet.” You eyed the smoking Ford in disappointment. “Someone’s gotta pay for that.” You taunted just for the fun of it.

“Shame.” He spoke, “Marcel! Now!”

As if on command, Peter swung in already focused on webbing Marcel’s weapon, while you evaded his blast and hurried over to take on Austin. It only took a second for the men to react; shots fired from the various alien guns filled the parking level as you and Peter dodged most of the attacks. The waves of power bouncing around were jostling but you balanced yourself as best you could.

Conjuring a ball of heat from your palms, you aimed it towards Austin’s hand and the gun which was now pointed at you; the metal from the gadget quickly heated up which forced him to drop the weapon. He grabbed his burned hand in agony, stumbling over his own feet.

“Bitch!” He yelled as you kicked the weapon towards Peter who was currently in the middle of trying to web Marcel. He webbed the contraption down to the concrete, making sure to leave some webbing clear of the barrel; he didn’t need another experience like the ferry.

The combat continued for another few minutes without any progress. Mostly, it was a continual cycle of dodging and shooting. Peter had performed a few flips during the action in attempt to get to a higher advantage point and you were searching for the other man who you assumed was the boss of Marcel and Austin. He wasn’t anywhere to be seen and there weren’t many cars in the lot besides the Ford and a smaller Toyota along with some maintenance vans. Where was he hiding? Did he flee? Austin charged towards you out of anger as he’d recovered from the shock of the burn. It took a while for your powers to warm back up again so you had learned hand-to-hand combat to make up for your disadvantage.

“Flare!” Peter called out your cover name. Peter was now using the destroyed Ford as a shield, periodically shooting webs towards Marcel. To his disadvantage, Marcel switched settings so the gun was acting as a shield. Peter’s webs weren’t helping him in the slightest.

“Yeah?” You called back, kicking behind Austin’s legs, bringing him down to his knees. Austin attempted to hit your face but you diverted his blow.

You finished Austin, successfully knocking him out, and turned to see what Peter needed help with. Rushing over to hide behind the truck where he was, you had another fire blast ready and waiting. He motioned for you to throw it under the vehicle where Marcel’s legs weren’t protected.

“You can’t hide forever!” He tisked, moving closer.

Peter held up three of his covered fingers, counting down. You nodded in a silent response. Once only one of his fingers remained, you rolled under the Ford and used the opportunity to hit Marcel’s knees. Simultaneously, Peter jumped over the truck and webbed the second gun down as well as Marcel. He was caught off guard and upset groans were filling the air.  

“Enough!” The third man reappeared, pointing his gun towards Peter and shooting. The turquoise blast startled the both of you as you were still focused on the previous victory. He was knocked back, his head slamming onto the concrete with a loud thud while the lightning-like lines of energy swarmed around him. Luckily, he was still moving. “This wasn't the plan!” He spat uselessly at his two unconscious men.

A piece inside of you tore open once you’d realized what happened. “Hey!” Immediately, you rushed over to the man, attempting to get a hit in but before you could succeed a web struck your arm, the momentum of the shot causing you to miss.

“What the hell, Spidey!” You yelled in frustration but another shot hit you again. Turning your attention to Peter, you had flames burning inside. He simply ignored your comments, attempting to hit you again.

You dodged his third attempt in shock, sliding to the right just in time. “What did you do to him?” You yelled towards the boss as you realized this wasn’t the Peter Parker you knew. He didn’t respond, only simply stepping out of Spider-man’s way and watching the scene unfold, smirking. “Hey! What did you do!?” You repeated.

Whoever was attacking you wasn’t your Peter, at least not at the moment.

“Just a little invention of mine. Nothing too special.” He finally responded.

The Toyota’s car alarm went off from behind you as Peter shot another web, missing. “Hey! Spider! Stop it, it’s me!” You cried out in desperation. How were you supposed to fight your other half, your partner? You dodged as many attacks as you could but soon Peter had you cornered. His powers and his suit were much stronger than yours as it was designed by Tony Stark. How could you beat that?

No matter the amount of times you called his name, no matter the amount of times you escaped his webs, he still pursued you. You were freaking out, panic was setting in, and you had no idea how to react. You’d lost the cocky confidence you displayed when fighting earlier. Now you were trapped and the only thing left to do was fight back.

“I-I’ll shoot!” You warned, manipulating another fireball, your arms outstretched in front of your face for protection.

He sauntered over, his head tilted to one side as he webbed your wrists to the wall in a split second before you could fire, not that you had the strength to fire at him anyways. You struggled, trying to twist your hands out from the sticky mess but it did no good. The durability of the webs were impressive. Damn it, Stark. You mentally cursed. Peter stopped right in front of you, his masked stare burning holes into your face.

“Stop for a moment, would you, Spider-man?” The boss came back into the picture, wiping down his gun with a cloth as if he couldn’t get any more comfortable. Peter stood still like a dog commanded to sit.

He towered over you with a gleam in his eyes. “I could make this stop you know. I just need some information.” He spoke, choosing his words carefully he added, “Who is Spider-man, really?”

A laugh bubbled over, making you crack a smile, giving you a boost of confidence. “Why don’t you take off his mask for yourself?”

As quick as your words left your mouth, the back of his hand left a burning mark on the side of your face. “I’m no idiot! Stark’s tech isn’t that easy to hijack!” He hissed as harshly as your face stung.

“Well apparently you can tell him what to do, so why don’t you tell him to take it off himself?” You desperately wanted to rub your cheek to soothe the pain. Your arms were starting to go numb from where they were bound above your head.

“Who is he?”

“You really wanna know?” Your voice was cracking, fear was slowly seeping in again, the coolness of the concrete consumed your remaining body heat.

He took a harsh step forward, a hand wrapped around your arm, his fingers digging in. You could already feel the bruises forming. “Yeah. Yeah, I do, Flare.”

“Go fuck yourself.” You whispered softly, voice breaking.

He whipped out a long blade, pointing it at you before handing it to Peter. Your stomach dropped from the fear and sudden realization of what was about to come. Your mind was scurrying to find a way out like a mouse trying to escape from a cat.

Peter played with the knife in his hands, running his gloved finger along the blade. He pressed the cool surface against your cheek but without enough force to break the skin. His mechanical eyes narrowed as his right forearm pressed against your collarbones to push you further into the wall. The pressure was immense. The fact that it was Peter fighting you made it a million times worse. This isn’t you, Peter. Come on! He was like a robot, soulless and unresponsive.

You longed to call out his true name aloud but you couldn’t risk it. You were heating up, beads of sweat were collecting at your hairline.

“Who is he?” He said a second time, enjoying watching you struggle.

You didn’t answer and in return the blade’s tip found its way to your jawline, dragging a thin stream of blood behind its path. You could feel Peter’s hot breath against your skin as he unconsciously followed orders.

Your hands started to burn, it was your body’s way of trying to protect you. Summoning another fireball, your palms started to melt through the webbing, allowing you to break free, knocking the knife out of Peter’s hands on your way down. Fed up, you used your charged hands to shoot a blast at the boss, hitting his right bicep. The flames bursted once they made contact. He laughed in surprise.

“Oh so she does fight back?” He commented, brushing the charred matter off.

“Stop this!” You screamed, trying to conjure enough energy for another hit. It was useless.

Dodging more webs coming from Peter and waiting for your fire to recharge, you managed to land a few blows on the man. He didn’t have any weapons as he’d given his knife to Peter and you assumed the gun was only for his sick and sadistic mind control. You were stronger than him, quicker than him, but with Peter trying to hurt you, it was impossible to take him down.

His gun clattered to the floor once you finally landed another blast, its impact echoing off the walls and pillars of the parking garage. Scrambling to reach it, you dove forward before anyone else could. There has to be some setting on it to undo this. The glowing orb inside of the metal casing was mesmerizing. Pastel lavenders and blues swirled together creating an oval of energy.

Peter charged towards you, forcing you to kick his legs out from under him at the last second. Guilt coursed through your veins.

You turned the gun on the man. “Turn. It. Off.”

“Or what?” He sassed back, unfazed by your threat.

Going on a whim, you forced your heat and energy onto the foreign orb. It was shaking you violently, but it seemed to be breaking down. Small fractures appeared on the surface, spreading quickly.

“I wouldn’t do that if--”

--

Everything was fuzzy. It was like he’d just woken up from a drug induced dream. His vision was hazy, clouded, and his ears were ringing from where he was positioned on the ground.

As if in slow motion, everything came rushing back. His image became crisp, sounds weren’t muted. A chunk of time had been stripped away from Peter’s consciousness. Then he remembered the pain occuring from the back of his head. He lifted his arm hesitantly, barely touching his head. He winced, feeling the tender spot.

The heat being forced onto the gun ultimately caused the device to explode, shattering the pillars of concrete. Dust and particles filled the air, inhibiting Peter’s sight. The building was coming down, car alarms going off, sirens wailing in the distance. Cracks in the foundation were getting deeper and small chunks of concrete were free falling from the levels above. The boy coughed and wheezed trying to gather his wits.

“Y/n.” He called, ignoring the dangers of using your real name.

He shifted his weight to his feet, steadying himself and peered through the rubble that was quickly gathering as each wasted second passed.

“K-Karen.”

“Yes?” The voice in his suit responded. “I’ve detected severe structural damage. Complete failure will occur in two minutes.”

Peter stumbled over his feet, “Find Y/n.” He inhaled sharply, his ribs were definitely bruised but all he cared about was you.

His sight was overridden as Karen used heat sensors and thermal vision to locate your inert body. Peter tried his best to maneuver his way through the concrete jungle. His dizziness was overbearing and as each fraction of time passed by, the building only became more and more unstable.

“Peter?” You rasped.

--

Your head ached and your body screamed for medical attention. Coming to your senses, you realized you were in a bed, Peter’s bed, with various blankets wrapped around you and a damp towel on your forehead to wake you up. You flinched, noticing Peter, and backed away out of temporary fear.

“You-”

He cut you off, “Shh, shh. I know. I know.” His face was pained, blood had dried around his lip and above his eyebrow.

“He-the gun-you.” You struggled form a proper sentence. “I thought you were gonna….”

“It’s my fault.” He interjected. “I should’ve been better. I let my guard down for one second and look what happened.” Peter sighed. He was still in his Spider-man suit, mask off with messy hair and puffy eyes. Had he been crying?

“Peter, it’s not your fault.”

“Then whose is it? Y/n, I hurt you tonight. Not the bad guy! I didn’t have possession of my own damn mind. I could’ve killed you!” He was shaking, his hands unable to stay still.

“But you didn’t. I handled it…” You trailed off, remembering what only happened hours before.

He stood up, pacing around the room nervously now. “Y/n, I cut this close to your neck.” He used his fingers as a reference to show the small amount of distance. “I-I should've been stronger.” He broke. “This is what I was scared of.”

“Peter, it's alright. We just have to learn how to handle alien tech. I think we both jumped into that situation too fast. It was a half-ass plan.” A small laugh escaped your lips.

You motioned for him to come nearer and you embraced him, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your eyes pooled into his, capturing his attention. “I feel like a failure.” He admitted. “What if there’s a next time? What if I had used taser-webs? Or-or web grenades? Instant-kill mode? ”

“Hey, hey.” You calmed, “You didn’t. We’re lucky that guy didn’t know too much about your suit. We’ll be better next time. The both of us.” You reassured, enjoying his presence. He snaked his arms around your waist as you rested your head in the crook of his neck. Despite all of the fighting he did tonight he still smelled faintly of laundry detergent and fresh linen. You smiled into his suit.

“You didn’t fight back.” He whispered, tears threatening to leave his eyes.

“How could I?”

“Y-you didn’t fight back, Y/n. That’s what scares me. It-it wasn’t me in there--that man. You have to--I wouldn’t ever hurt you I promise-just…” He was lost for words. “I didn’t know this was possible.”

You left the comfort of his neck, looking back into his eyes. You wiped the blood off of his upper lip with the dampened towel. “Peter, as scared as I was, I knew I could find a way to get you back and I did. Some part of me knew. That gun is gone now.”

“What about the guy? We didn’t even get his name. He-he probably still knows how to make them!” He was panicking.

“Peter, look at me.” You said, gripping his shoulders. “We will heal and we will figure this out, but right now we just need to rest.” You pulled him down into the covers, your back pressed into his shallowly moving chest and stomach.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

“Shhh.” You closed your eyes and let the darkness consume you. Peter’s hands made their way around your waist again to hold you close in an apology. His lips found the soft skin of your neck, his hot breath fluttering from spot to spot creating a swirling sensation within you.

“Peter.” You said breathily, entranced by his motions.

He continued his way along your jawline and cheek, delicately placing more and more. “I’ll never let that happen again for as long as I live.”

Your eyes met for the third time and you begged for more of him. He obliged, leaning in to capture your lips. So much emotion was flooding throughout your body, yet you were unable to move. It was as if time stopped and all that mattered was him. Peter continued to place small and light kisses across your face and neck, both of you giggling and breathing heavy. The warmth of the blankets and Peter’s embrace was enough to fill you completely with bliss. The compassion of his lips melted your resistance to sleep and you were quickly fading.

His fingers danced across your forehead, gently brushing strands of hair away. “Peter?” You slowly whispered, not wanting the moment to end.

“Hm?” He hummed, peppering more kisses along your hairline.

“Thank you for saving me.”

“Always.”

--

Masterlist

[sending-the-message]

What Happens when the Stars Go Out by TheJesseClark

The red lights are only making the pain worse. It is an immense, earth-shattering pain, in my midsection and in my head. I try to move, but I can't; I try to speak, but I can't do that either. It hurts too much, and my voice obeys me no more than do my joints or my muscles or my bones or my mind.

And yet still there is movement. I can feel myself being lifted up and placed on something - a bed, maybe, or - no.

A gurney.

“Alright!” one of the EMTs says, and several others then roll me into the back of an ambulance, and climb in behind me. But I'm already fading fast, and feeling an inexplicable heat, by the time those doors are shut.

One EMT, a blonde woman, looks at me with a furrowed brow, just as I'm slipping away, and says aloud, “Wait. Wait, I think I know...

”...we're made of that stuff, right?”

I turned around. There was a woman there, red-haired and about my age, give or take, and she was alarmingly beautiful. But how long she'd been staring at the exhibit alongside me I had no idea.

”I'm sorry?”

”I said ‘you know we're made of that stuff, right’?” She nodded at the museum wall, which depicted in detail the births and life cycle and deaths of stars. I pursed my lips.

”We’re… made of stars?”

”Yep. Isn't it awesome?” She stepped up beside me and moved her arm across the diagram as she spoke. “I just watched a documentary about it last night. Stars are just fusion factories held together by their own gravity. They start off fusing hydrogen to helium, and then they keep going on and on, fusing heavier and heavier elements until they're fusing the heaviest stuff. Then they exhaust their fuel and collapse under their own weight, and they blow off their outer layers and pretty much shower the galaxy with all these random elements, some of which are eventually used to create life.”

”Huh.”

”Yeah. I’m Robin, by the way.” She extended her hand, and I shook it.

”Uh, hey. Brian. Nice to meet you.” There was an awkward pause before I said, “Alright, I got one for you. If you replaced the sun with a black hole, what would happen?”

”Depends on its mass.”

”Nope! The answer is - drumroll please - nothing. I mean everything would get dark and cold, but we wouldn't fall in. Earth’s orbit would remain entirely unaffected.”

”IF the black hole had the same mass as the sun.”

”What?”

”What you said would only be true if the black hole in question happened to have the same mass as the sun. Which it wouldn't, because the sun isn't massive enough to collapse into a black hole.”

”Oh. Damn.”

”Yep. Me one, you zero. Sorry, pal.”

”Alright.” I said. “You're on. Whoever gets the most points by closing time buys drinks.”

She smiled at that and punched me in the shoulder, just light enough not to sting. ”Alright, loser. Come...”

“...on,” the EMT says. There is a flurry of activity around me, and there are voices, too, and blinding lights, and a cooling down of that monstrous heat.

One of the paramedics is looking me over. Then he looks to another colleague - the blonde woman - and he shakes his head, slowly.

“This one’s gone, Rachel.”

But she continues running tests, running diagnostics, placing a soft hand on my arm in case I'm awake enough to appreciate the comfort. I am. Barely. But I'm fading fast, and that heat is coming right on back as I do.

“Not yet he's not,” she says. There's pain in her voice that she does her fruitless best to conceal. “I already lost one earlier, Todd. I'm not losing…”

”... another one!” Robin said, and I laughed and agreed and we rushed to the back of the line.

”See? Told you you'd like Ferris Wheels. Can't believe you've never been on one before today.”

She shrugged. “Never thought they were as extreme as roller coasters, so I wasn’t interested.”

”Well they’re not supposed to be ‘extreme.’ Ferris Wheels are for all the parents waiting on their kids and sick people trying to relax their stomachs so they don’t puke funnel cake all over the pavement.”

”And adorable young couples, apparently.”

And just then we were waved into the next seat. We sat ourselves down, and moments later the great wheel began to groan and protest and, finally, to turn; it dragged our cart around its underside and then lifted it up, up, up to the top of its crest, where we could see the whole city at twilight, and the ships in the harbor that were backlit red with the setting sun, and the clouds that were lined at their tops with just a little bit of starlight. Robin snuggled up next to me and put her head on my shoulder, and I put my arm around her waist. For a moment then I could've sworn the empty seat in front of us move on its own, and furrowed my brow. But then Robin spoke.

”Thank you for being here with me,” she said. I didn't respond with words;I just kissed her on the head and held her tight, as the Wheel began taking us…

“...down on the eighteen hundred block of Gardersdale,” one of the EMTs says. “Yeah. Yeah. Another one, I know. Hell of a fucking night, isn't it?”

The conversation is muffled again in short order. I drift in and out, and there is a flurry of sound and lights and movement. But the jostling of the room and the sound of an engine tell me we're still in the ambulance.

The other paramedics, for their part, continue running tests and checking my vitals, and as they work I try to remember what's happened. But it hurts. Dammit, does it hurt, almost as much as that rushing heat, and the effort is further disrupted when the ambulance hits a bump in the road and I nearly spill out of the gurney. But Rachel puts her steadying hand on my chest and says, “Hang in there, Brian. We're almost…”

”...there!” Robin pointed at the interstate ramp, and I took the turn and put St. Thomas Vineyard away in the rearview.

”Still can't believe Mason got married,” I said. “He’s only known that girl for what, a year? Less?”

Robin shrugged. “They were in love.”

”They hardly knew each other! They don't know if whatever they're feeling is genuine, life-long love or just new relationship googley-eyes that hasn't worn off yet. I guarantee it - and I'll put money on this - they'll be done within a year. Just watch.”

”You don't know that,” she said. There was a brief pause, and then she added, “We’ve been dating for two years.”

”So?”

”So… how far off do you think we are?”

I shrugged. “I don't know. Haven’t really thought about it.”

”You haven't thought about it? At all?”

”I mean of course I've thought about it. I just… I don't know if we're ready, you know?” I looked over at her, but she just stared out there at the rain with her chin in her palm. So I continued. “Think about it like this: people prepare their whole lives for jobs, right? They start going to school as soon as they can talk, and they're not done till they're in their twenties, and it's all so they can get a piece of paper that says ‘hey, hire my ass, I’m smart enough to work.’ But marriage? Nobody trains for that shit. People just hook up and say, ‘hey we're twenty five, or twenty eight, you're cute, I'm cute. Let's spend fifteen thousand dollars on a giant ceremony and then live as glorified roommates for five years until we're both fat and hate each other and get divorced because neither one of us knew or cared how much work this thing would require.”

There was a longer pause then, before she said, with a degree of seriousness I wasn’t in the least bit prepared for, “Is that where you think we're headed? ‘Glorified roommates?’”

Quickly I calculated an avenue of retreat. But I calculated wrong. “No! Not you,” I said. “Not us. I mean most people, you know? Most people just dive in and either get divorced or stick it out till someone gets heart disease. The divorce rate is more than fifty percent now in the US. But the ‘I-don't-love-you-anymore’ rate? Shit, that's probably close to ninety by the time everyone hits middle age. I just want to make sure you're the right person, you know?”

If ever there were words I wish I could've taken back, it were those twelve. She said nothing, but I saw her reflection in the window, and the little tear that welled up in the corner of her eye said more than words ever could.

”Listen, I… that came out wrong. I just meant-”

”Can you drop me off at my car, please?”

”I thought you wanted to come over-?”

”I don't feel good. Please?”

And we drove in silence for a while, as the rain picked up its pace and fell in sheets and in torrents. After another twenty minutes I made the turn onto my street and parked, and once I did she got out without so much as a glance and walked across the road to her own car. I ran to follow.

”Robin, wait!” I grabbed her lightly by the arm. It was slick with rainwater. “Talk to me. Please?”

”What do you want?”

I blinked. ”I want you to talk to me. I just s-”

”No. I mean with us. Where do you want this to go?”

”Where do I want this to go? I want to be with you! Listen, I didn't mean to imply that - that I don't want that. I just want us to be smart about it. You know?”

”Well maybe love isn't something you can calculate on a fucking spreadsheet, Brian!” She was shouting over the cacophony of the storm. “Maybe it's just this thing you feel, you know? And maybe it doesn't make any damn logical sense. Maybe it's not supposed to. But that's part of what makes it special; it's an adventure; it's a ‘jump off a cliff with me’ type of thing. And yeah, sure. Not everyone survives the fall, I guess. But if you find the right person, then-”

”A ‘jump off the cliff with me’ type of adventure? Come on, Robin! We're not writing up a damn dating website profile here; this is real life! There are kids involved, and finances, and house buying, and mortgages and all that shit! Not every day is some cute little romance comedy. This is half your life we're talking about. Two-thirds, even. Okay? All I meant was that you have to be prepared for it. I just-”

”I thought we were prepared.”

”What do you mean?”

She dug through her purse for a moment, and then held up a ring that was brilliant even when covered in the rain. I felt my heart skip at least a full beat.

”Is that, um-”

”It was my mom’s,” she said. “She gave it to me before she died. She said, ‘find your partner in crime, Robin. Find someone who'll sweep you off your feet. And jump off a cliff with you.’” There was a pause before she added, “And at the time she said it I thought I knew exactly who that person was.”

I tried for a moment, but I knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that there was no combination of words in the English language that could be strung together to right this ship.

”Good-bye, Brian.” She kissed me on the cheek, and rubbed the back of her hand on down it. And then she turned and got in her Civic, and drove off until I couldn't see her tail-lights at all through the pouring of the...

“...rain’s comin’ down hard, boys,” another of the EMTs said. “Careful when you unload him.”

There were grunts of acknowledgement, and then the back of the ambulance flew open and the sound of the storm utterly exploded into it; I felt the rush of wind, and the rain pelting my skin in sheets, and together they helped a bit with the oncoming heat that still I couldn't place. And then I felt movement. The gurney dipped and hit pavement while the paramedics held me tight to its form. And then there were shouts, and lights, and running feet, and then the hospital door…

”Open?!” I shouted. The man behind the counter looked at me with a furrowed brow. I shouted it again, over the sound of rainfall and through the glass. “I said, are you open?!”

And then he pointed at the sign saying the opposite, and went back to reading. But I wasn't taking no for an answer; I dug out my wallet and pulled a twenty from the fold, and slapped it flat up against the glass. Within seconds the paper was soaked with rainwater. But it got his attention, and once he saw me there he took pity on my plight, and the door clicked and whirred and slid open.

”Make it quick, man.”

”I know, I know. I will. Thank you so much.” I ran down the aisles and then, true to my word, made it back to the counter in less than a minute. The man put down his book, and processed the sale.

”Date night?” He said, bagging the card after the flowers. I smiled a bit.

”Something like that.” And then I thanked him and ran back out to my car, and got inside, and took out the card and scribbled on its inner sleeve the words, ‘Jump off a cliff…

“...with me, with me!” A doctor running alongside the cart motioned to some nurses in the hall, and they ran to follow. He turns to the EMTs. “Is he stable?”

“He’s slipping. Heart rate’s falling, breathing slowing. Not good. Mumbled something about being too hot earlier, but if anything his temperature’s too low.” Someone shows the doctor a chart. He reads it as he runs, and his face is grim.

“Shit. Alright,” he says. “Let's…”

”...move!” I shout at the car I'm passing. “Just a little rain, assholes.” But it wasn't. It was a lot of rain. Sheets and buckets and torrents of it, in fact; it’d long since turned the dirt to mud, and it swept up against my windshield like ocean surf, and the road was slick with little rivers of it than ran on down past the pebbles. I was going far, far too fast for such conditions. But I didn't…*

“...care about that,” the doctor said. “I just want to get his fluids up. Rachel!”

The woman from the ambulance runs up and discusses my condition in harsh whispers with the doctor. As I fade, and as the damn heat floods on back in, it becomes impossible to hear what they're saying. But it's abundantly clear from the body language that she hasn't yet give up…

’...hope for a reunion with these guys?’

’Well, Bolan and Snake say they’re against it, entirely. So that doesn't bode well for fans. But look what happened with-’

I switched the radio off, and then wrapped both hands around the wheel with such force the knuckles turned white on the grip. The car hit seventy miles per hour. Seventy five. Seventy nine. The windshield wipers were flying, but they weren't going fast en-

”FUCK!” I slammed my foot on the brakes as the lights of activity in the road came in out of nowhere from the rain. The car jolted and shuddered and fought for traction with the pavement, and I felt the tires squeal and the metal of the car grind in…

“...protest.”

“I don't care if he wants to protest!” the doctor snaps back. “You tell him to wait in the damn lobby like everyone else!”

The nurse accepts her orders and heads back out into the hallway. “I'm sorry, sir,” she says. “You can't see him until-”

“Until what?! That's my son in there! That's my son! That's-” and then there's a scuffle of feet, and more shouts as a security guard drags my father from the wing. Rachel pauses as she hears the shouts, and then her eyes well up a bit with tears, and she looks at my face and appears to realize something. But she doesn't say what. The shouts continue, but they fade. And so do I. And in comes the heat as I do.

“That's my son!” Dad says. “That's my boy! Let me see my boy! Stop! Please...!”

”...stop!” The police officer had both hands up as my car barreled towards him. “Stop! Stop the car!”

Finally there was a jolt and a shudder as the tires gained control at last, and the car slammed to a halt. Both the officer and I sighed in relief, and then he approached my window and tapped the glass with his knuckle. I lowered it.

I shouted over the rain, “I'm sorry, sir! Roads are crazy out here. You okay?”

He ignored the question. “I'm gonna need you to sit here for a bit, okay?” He said. “Just until the accident’s cleared up.”

”Accident?”

”Its bad.” He nodded in the direction of the wreckage, and then he said again, “Just sit tight! We’ll waive you over when there's an open lane.” And then he ran off into the storm.

I scanned the scene. There was a man on the side of the road, I saw, sitting on the pavement with a poncho for the rainfall and his head in his hands. His SUV was totaled; the front end was bent and twisted and hideously mangled.

But the other car was in far, far worse shape than that. I squinted hard, and could only make out panels of white amidst charred black chunks of metal and the force of the rain. But it was enough.

It was a Civic.

Oh, God. Oh, God, no. No, no, no.

I got out of the car and left the door hanging open in the rain, and then I ran forward, at least until the officer caught sight of me and ran back over and grabbed me by the shoulders.

”Hey!” He said. “I told you to wait in the car! What're you-”

”ROBIN!!” I shouted over him. “ROBIN!”

And then I saw it; a fleeting glimpse of movement, a white sheet flipped on a gurney. A strand of red hair fell from the right side and hung there as the EMTs carted away the body.

”ROBIN!” I screamed. “That's my girl! That's my girl!” The officer was confused and stunned and did the only thing he could think to do - drag me back to my car.

”No! Stop!” I was inconsolable but in no shape at all to resist. “Stop, please! That's my girl! Let me see my girl! Please, stop!”

One of the EMTs, covered in blood from the waist up, turned to look at the spectacle. But then someone shouted her name.

“Rachel!” The doctor says. “You with us, or what? Let's go!”

She blinks as she stares at me, and then says, “Uh, yeah. Sorry. I just realized, this guy was-”

“Just get the charcoal, please? We don't have time.”

And she does; she runs off to fetch exactly that. And then I feel a hideously invasive sensation - a tube is being placed in my nose, and then I feel it falling down, into my throat. I'm too weak to gag, but I somehow manage to clench my fist. A nurse sees the movement, and he holds me down to steady me.

“Whoa, whoa…”

”...Whoa, whoa, you okay, man? My roommate stumbled back as I threw open the door. I charged past him. “You're comin’ in hot!” He said again. “You good, bro?”*

But I ignored him. I went to the bathroom, and I leaned up against the sink for a long moment, and I grabbed my temples and set my jaw and sobbed without a sound; aching, wracking, heaving sobs. I heard a knock.

”Hey, man,” he said. “You good, dude? Anything I can like, get for you? Or-?”

”I'm fine,” I managed. It wasn't convincing in the slightest, but I didn't care. I opened up my phone. There was a text from Robin there, from this morning.

*It read, ‘I love you,’ and they were all at once the most beautiful and the most painful words I'd ever read. ‘I love you.’

I love you, too. I'm coming. Hang on, baby. I'm coming.

Then I backed out, and found my dad in the contacts list, and typed, ‘I love you, Dad.’

Moments later I got a response: ‘I love you too, son! You okay?’

But I ignored it, and then I threw open the cupboard, and I grabbed an old…

“...bottle of pills,” a nurse said. “Swallowed the whole damn thing. Lucky his roommate called it in when he did.”

But the doctor is incredulous. “Well. That remains to be seen, now, doesn't it?” Then he turns to the door. “Rach-”

And she pushes it open with her elbow before he finishes. “I got it, I got it. I'm here.”

“Alright!” He says. “Fingers crossed, people. Let's see if we can't save a psycho!”

There are isolated chuckles. Rachel, though, almost snaps at her superior for the insult, but then someone says, “Here we go!”

And then there is thick, wretched black stuff funneling down that tube and down into my throat. I'm almost desperate enough, but not quite strong enough, to resist it. I can feel it sliding, and hitting bottom, and pumping, and pulsing. My heart rate is erratic; my breathing is erratic; my ability to comprehend the situation is every bit as erratic. I struggle as much as I can against the restraints, but all my effort and all my strength of arms musters up not more than the faintest whimper.

But Rachel hears it. She moves to my side, and she holds my head, and says, in soft enough a whisper that only I can hear the words, “Don't follow her, Brian. Don't follow her. Please, Jesus. I need him here. I need this win.”

But I begin to fade all the same. One by one, as the spikes on the EKG slow to sporadic pulses, I see the nurses turn to each other and shake their heads. One by one by one, that is, until there is only a trembling Rachel there, and she's holding on for me tight enough for everyone in the room.

“Call it,” the doctor says, just as the darkness swirls in and I feel like I’m starting to fall away.

The conversation carries on as I pass.

“Two thirty two AM,” one nurse says.

But I can hear Rachel screaming in protest - “No! He's not gone! There's still time, there's still time to save him, there's still…”

But she's wrong. I'm already gone. Her voice, and her face - those things are behind me as I pass. They're fading away into the darkness that's consuming me, and swallowing me whole, and throwing me to the winds.

And just when the magnitude of the situation dawns on me - then comes the heat. There are monstrous amounts of it. It rips and tears and scorches and scalds, and had I the ability to scream out or even to breathe I would've done so until my throat was hoarse. But then there is a new pain. A different pain.

A hand reaches out of the blackness, and it grabs my left-side forearm with such mighty force that the resulting pain eclipses that of the heat, and the nails of that hand rip right through the flesh. And then I’m being pulled, and there is a rushing wind. It is cool and refreshing and beautiful, and suddenly I'm somewhere else entirely.

I blinked. The darkness was gone, and the heat with it, and that sensation of being devoured. Instead, those things had been replaced with starlit clouds as far off in every direction as the eye could see. But my arm stung like hell all the same. I looked at it. There were nail-marks, I saw. Four deep cuts beneath the inner wrist and a fifth on the side, in the shape of a hand. They bled a bit. And then I heard an all too familiar voice.

“You okay?”

I stood up, slowly, and I turned, holding my damned stinging arm while I did it, and said, “Robin. Robin, w-what was that? That darkness? And the heat, and th-”

“Its where you would’ve spent your eternity, Brian, had I not pulled you out.”

I had no words other than the weakest, “Thanks.”

“You know,” she said, holding her own arm. “Suicide’s not exactly what I meant by ‘jumping off a cliff.”

I blinked again, and took a long, deep breath. “Yeah. I guess I didn’t think things through.”

“Not sure you fully realize how much of an understatement that is.”

“Well, maybe I don’t. But you know what? I'd do it again, Robin. I’m serious.”

She nearly rolled her eyes, but I doubled down on the sentiment.

“What I said? Out there on my street? I'm sorry. I mean it, I’m sorry. You were right. Love isn't about taxes or headaches or just tolerating each other until we’re seventy. It's like your mom said. It's about sweeping your girl off her feet. It's about jumping over cliffs with someone, and not knowing where you'll land, and not caring, as long as you get there together. And if this is where we land, wherever this is, I'm okay with that.” And I leaned in for a kiss.

But she stopped me with her hand before it landed, and I opened my eyes.

“I can tell you've been working on that speech for a while,” she said.

“Over and over again In my head, in the car, until… until I got to the scene of the wreck.” I looked at the ground, and then back up at her. “And I realized, right then, that if you fucking left the earth itself than I would, too. So here I a-”

“I was wrong, too.” She cut me off.

“W-what do you mean?”

“About love. I was wrong. My mother was wrong. It's not just about crap you see in rom-coms and greeting-cards, Brian.”

Again I blinked. “I know that! I know, it's - it's something you feel in your heart; that defies logic and reason. Not something you can put on a spreadsheet. Like you said earlier.”

She sighed a bit, and then said, “Can I show you something?”

“Uh, yeah! Yeah, okay. Sure.”

And then she took my hand, and Infinity rolled in and faded back out, and all of a sudden we were somewhere else entirely.

“Are we -?”

“On the Ferris Wheel? Yep. Turn around.”

I did, and there we were, past Robin and past me, on the seat above and behind us. I remembered it like yesterday; we were staring out at the whole city at twilight, and the ships in the harbor that were backlit red with the setting sun, and the clouds that were lined at their tops with just a little bit of starlight.

I rustled in my seat a bit and it moved, and past Me furrowed his brow when he saw it. But then past Robin said “Thank you for being here with me,” and got a kiss on the head.

“What do you see?” Robin said.

“Us. A year ago and change. I remember that day like it was yesterday. Your mom had just died, so I took you here. To get your mind off things.”

“You did. That was the first day in months I'd felt truly safe and truly at peace. That was love.”

“I know it was. And I still love you, just the s-.”

“It's a kind of love,” she said, cutting me off again. “And it's absolutely beautiful when it lasts. But can I show you something else?”

“Uh… okay. Yeah.”

She took my hand again, and again Infinity itself rolled in and out like the tide, and then we were somewhere else. The hospital, it looked like. St. Joseph’s.

“What do you see here?”

I looked around. Nurses running up and down the hallway. Doctors reviewing notes and talking to their patients.

“I don't know. A hospital.”

She nodded in the direction of a particular room. “Look in there.”

So I did. There was a woman on the cot. She was emaciated and hairless and deathly frail, and the Doctors inside were shutting off the last of the machines.

“A dying woman,” I said. “Looks like cancer.”

“Yep. And what about there?”

I looked down. There was a nurse crouched down in front of the same door and talking to a girl - eight or nine years old, if I had to guess - in silly voices. The girl had been crying, but the nurse managed to make her smile a bit, even as her mother died on the other side of the door.

“Looks like a nurse comforting a little girl.”

“That's right,” Robin said. “And that little girl will remember that nurse for the rest of her life - even if they never meet again or so much as exchange names - as the lady who came to her in her darkest hour and made her smile.” She turned to me. “That's love, too. Just as beautiful and just as previous as what we had.”

“What's your point?”

She didn't answer; she just stuck out her hand with a sad smile, and I took it. Infinity faded in and back out a third time. And then we were in the waiting room.

“See that?” Robin said. She pointed to the corner of the room, and I squinted.

“Oh hey!” I said. “That's Dylan! What's he doing here?”

“He called the ambulance when you didn't come out of the bathroom,” she said. “He knew something was wrong, and when they drove you off he followed them here. Been standing there ever since, asking for information on you every time a nurse walks by. He's starting to annoy them.”

I watched my roommate for a bit, and sure enough he grabbed a nurse, and asked her a question that I couldn't hear. She said something pleasantly dismissive, and he nodded, and then leaned his head back up against the wall and closed his eyes.

“Wow. I uh, I had no idea he cared that much.”

“That's love, too, Brian. Would you do the same for him?” But she held out her hand again before I could answer, and I took it. For a fourth time Infinity blinked.

And then I was in the emergency room, looking down on myself. I was covered in vomit from the charcoal and the pills, but I was still, too. Deathly still. Most of the nurses and the doctor were still walking out the door.

But Rachel wasn't. She was crying openly now, and making no effort to hide it. She reached for something. A needle, it looked like, or a syringe.

“What's she doing?”

“You'll see soon enough,” Robin said. “But that there? That's also love.” She held out her hand once again and said, “One more.” And I took it.

And then we were in the parking lot of the same place. The rain was coming down harder than ever.

“Turn around,” Robin said. And I did. And then I stopped; There were no words.

It was my father in his car. He was holding a Bible up to his chest with both hands, and he was crying in a way no child should ever have to see their father cry.

“And that there?” Robin said. “That's the kind of love that can move mountains.”

I put my hand up against his window. He didn't seem to notice.

“He can't see you, Brian. Not from there.”

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. “Okay,” I said. “I get it. I fucked up.”

And then she released my hand, and all of a sudden we were back in the clouds again, under the stars. I wiped another tear before it fell.

“So now what? It's too late for me to go back down there. I'm already gone.”

Robin took another step forward, and without another word she put her hand on my temple, and my eyes rolled back.

And then I saw it.

*Rachel and I are on a beach. Our child is playing out in the surf, and the sun hits her hair just right, and for a moment it is made of gold.

And then the image fades, and another one takes its place.

A birthday party. I have silver hair at my temples. Rachel does too. But it doesn't matter. Our little girl is turning ten.

And then that image fades, too, and is replaced by another, and another, and another; each one yielding another moment where someone loved someone else enough for it to break through the clouds and be seen forever, even if the moment itself lasted only for a heartbeat.

Finally there is an image of Rachel and myself on a porch as old as we are, and she holds my hand and says, “I'm glad you didn't follow her.”

And I say back, “Me too,” and I kiss her on the head.

And then Robin pulls back her hand, and again standing out there in the clouds together.

“How did you do that?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Time has nearly no meaning in this place. I've been here for a while, Brian, and yet the doctors haven't even left your operating room. Don't think too much about it. Just think about what you want.”

“That,” I said. “Was… was that my future?”

She shrugged again. “Could be. I don't know what you saw, and I don't need to know. Was it enough?”

I nodded, and she stepped forward again, and said “Then go and get it.”

“I'll miss you too damn much.”

“Well there's nothing wrong with missing someone,” she said. “That just means love lasted a little longer than what ignited it. So go ahead and miss me. You owe me that much. Feel the loss; stand up to the storm like a man, and memorize the pain, and learn it inside and out, and let it roll over you in waves and run its course. And then one day you'll wake up and realize you have scar-tissue where the skin used to be, and you'll be stronger than the grief ever was.”

“I can tell you've been working on that speech for a while.”

“Like I said. I've been here for a while.” She said. “You're made up of the stars, kid. Now go light up the world.”

And she kissed me, one last time. And then she was…

“...gone, Rachel. Okay? He's gone. Give it up for Christ's sakes and-”

But I shot upright before the doctor could finish the thought, and I gasped for air when I did and grabbed at my chest with more strength than I'd had in hours. There was a needle in it; a bolt of life to the heart, and Rachel broke down in tears when she saw me.

“Well I'll be damned,” the doctor said. “Welcome back to the land of the living, son. And Rachel?”

She turned around.

“Good work, kid. Made me proud.”

And he left, and she turned back to me and tried to hide a smile while she did it. “Hey there. How’re you feeling?”

“Better than dead.” There was a pause before I added, “Hey. I'm glad you got your win.”

She took my hand and squeezed it. For a moment she paused when she saw a scar below the wrist that looked like the result of fingernails dragging through flesh. But then she dismissed it and said, “I am too. And you'll get yours. Okay? I promise you will.”

I said, “I know.” And with that she got up and left the room to go save someone else’s life, while I took out my phone, and opened up the most recent text, and hit reply.

‘Am now.’

Facebook

[emo-penguin4]

Deluded by the Moon

           “Naia,” Faris calls the attention of one of his leaders.

           Naia turns around and notices Faris looking at her. She slows down to match his pace. “Yes?”

           Faris rubs his arm and looks down. “Do you… do you think we’ll make this rescue in time?”

           Naia takes a deep breath, unsure of how to answer. By this point, Raziel had also noticed Faris’ discomfort and places a comforting arm around him. Faris is taken aback momentarily, but does sink into the comfort of his leader’s arm. Naia turns to Raziel for answers, but her fellow leader simply shrugs his free shoulder in response.

           He does say, “Ferr, Nai and I promise that we will rescue Ernst and you two can retire from all this Shadow business afterward. I know you’d love that.”

           Faris’ lips curl into a soft smile at the thought. “Yeah, we can get back to our normal school life afterward. It’s gonna be stable again.”

           Everything will be over before long. How long has it been since he’s ever had a good night’s rest? “Navi, how far till we get to our destination?”

           “At this rate, we should be there in about 10 minutes.”

           He nods. “Naia, is everyone ready?”

           She smiles and pats Faris’ back before detaching and walking ahead. “Yep, everyone is ready and rarin’ to go.”

           And it doesn’t take long till the group reunites with Ernst. Faris runs ahead when he feels safe and tackles Ernst into a hug. “Ernst, oh my god, you had me so worried!”

           Ernst clings to Faris, shaken from being alone without any help. “Thank god you all reached me when you did. I thought I was a goner for sure.”

           The group walks within speaking distance of the two, and Naia says, “I insisted we prioritize your wellbeing. We’re all really glad you’ve been safe thus far--”

           A click. “Don’t speak too soon.”

           She turns around and notices a man standing and facing the pair embracing with a gun in hand. Naia’s eyes widen as she considers what to do next.

           Raziel takes cautious steps forward as he realizes the tensity of the situation.

           Faris’ eyes light aflame. “Nevin. So you really are that kinda guy.”

           Nevin raises a brow. “What, did I ever give you a reason to doubt?”

           Ernst releases their embrace and faces Nevin. “Certainly not, what with how I’ve been advising him about you for this past semester.”

           “Ah, lover boy.” Nevin sneers at Ernst but keeps his gun trained on Faris. “Shut up, I was talkin’ to this fag over here.”

           Faris stands protectively with an arm in front of Ernst. “Whatever it is you wanted to talk about can wait until after we leave this place.”

           “This conversation happens now. I’m the one with the gun.”

           Philia almost raises her gun, but Raziel reaches to her hand and shakes his head. “Trust Faris,” he whispers.

           “Ernst is exhausted, scared, and defenseless. We can have a fucking conversation out in reality when I’ve dropped him off at his condo!”

           Nevin’s face alights with fury as he straightens his grip on his pistol and makes his intent clear. “I’m losing my patience.”

           “And I’m losing mine! Do you know how tiring it is to be here without a Persona? Do you?!”

           “Shut the fuck up and we can talk—”

           “--outside where we can all go to a café and—”

           “SHUT UP!”

           And without thinking, Nevin pulls the trigger.

“Watch out!”

           In a flash, Ernst jumps in front of Faris. A sharp, earsplitting noise shakes the field and strikes fear into everyone present. “Get down,” both leaders yell at the same time. Raziel and Naia both dive for the ground, pulling anyone they can with them. A minute passes as the rumbles finally subside and the air is clear of noise.

           In an instant, Faris falls to his knees in front of Ernst and holds the man close to him, grief uncontrollable and unchecked. Faris tightly grasps Ernst’s hand, quivering in despair.

“Ernst?!”

           Faris shakes Ernst’s cold, dying body, not quite knowing what to do with himself. Or with his dying companion. “Ernst…!?”

           Naia is about to step forward when she feels someone’s arm across her stomach stopping her from moving. Philia shakes her head and looks forlorn. “I’ve… I’ve seen this happen before. There’s no coming back for Ernst. Give Faris this moment.”

           A small sputtering cough can be heard. “Ernst?!”

           A heavy breath comes from the dying man. “…Fa…ris…”

           Faris’ next breath comes out choked as he forces his next words out in a hurry: “Don’t speak, please conserve your strength.”

           Ernst slowly pulls his free hand up to reach for Faris’ face. He brushes off tears that freely fall from the grieving man’s cheeks. “I don’t… think I can…”

          “You’ll be fine!” Faris forces this out of himself, if only for his own benefit. “I’ll carry you to… to the closest hospital if I have to…!”

          Ernst lets out a pained breath. “You… you have to… let me go.”

          “No…” Faris gazes at Ernst longingly. The pain in his eyes is telling him to look away, but the pain in his heart must be telling him to stay. “You… you c-can’t—”

          “I... I’m so glad… in the end…” Ernst lowers his hand, but Faris catches it immediately. “Someone who cares… stays with me…”

          Faris shakes so hard, but he does his best to steady himself for Ernst. “It-it won’t be the end… I promise…!”

          Ernst bitterly chuckles. “I’m sorry… you won’t… keep that… prom…”

          Raziel and Naia both have the same thing on their minds. Ernst has just drawn his last breath.

          Faris has no energy. All that can be heard are the uncontrollable sobs of someone who has just lost their everything.

          Despite this vulnerable moment, a detached laugh can be heard from in front of the group. Philia is the first to run in front of Faris and ready herself to protect her grieving brother unknown danger. Not too far behind are Raziel, Naia, Gavin, Risk, Saffy.

          “Nevin,” Philia regards the gunman coldly. “I should’ve known you were gonna betray us.”

          “Too bad you didn’t see it coming, eh, Phi?”

          Philia draws her handgun from its holster. “You have no right to call me that. Now hold still so I can shoot you down.”

          Nevin has the gall to laugh in response. “Go ahead, try it.”

          Nothing happens as Philia pulls the trigger. She tries again. But nothing. “Shit, why won’t it shoot?!”

          “Because it’s not real.”

          Philia holds in a scream of fury. “I don’t need a gun, what will be real is your teeth flying out of your face when I get you for hurting Grey!” She swiftly holsters the now-useless pistol and powerwalks to Nevin, winding up for a good punch.

          “Theodon,” Nevin calls out just as Philia’s punch connects.

          Suddenly, Philia is facing the opposite way she originally stood. The events that just transpire register in seconds as she reflexively maneuvers away from Nevin. “Did he just—”

          “Distort reality? Why, yes, I just did,” Nevin claims nonchalantly.

          “So, all those unusual crimes,” Raziel steps forward to address Nevin, “those were your doing?”

          “If you could bend physical reality to your whim, wouldn’t you do anything with it?”

          “You’re disgusting and have no right to that kind of power,” Naia interjects strongly. “You literally killed our comrade and broke Faris without remorse!”

          “Remorse? I guess I felt that, long ago,” Nevin chuckles and points the gun at the group in front of him. “Now, who wants to go first?”

          “—Dionysus!”

          Without warning, a wave of darkness envelops the group and hides them away from Nevin’s sight. When the darkness clears, Faris can be seen barely on his feet with a new Persona hovering above and behind him.

          A multitude of shots can be heard from somewhere off to the side. Raziel and Naia worriedly check if the bullets are coming for them, but soon realize that the shots were aimed at illusions of the group. “Faris, is this…”

          Faris steps forward and walks past Raziel and Naia. A cluster of Faris illusions and a barrier forming around the group are all that can be seen before Faris shouts, “Begone from my sight!”

          A rain of blackened meteors rain from Dionysus’ extended goblet as Faris raises his spear to Nevin. With barely any time to react, Nevin reflexively calls for Theodon.

          But Faris refuses to lose to Nevin. The moment Faris notices reality distort, he calls Dionysus in a powerful war cry and dispels the warp. Faris fearlessly makes his way to Nevin’s position and stands in front of him. “You… you killed Ernst. You killed the one brilliant thing in my life.” Faris raises his spear and points it at Nevin’s neck. “I’m going to collect my pound of flesh, now.”

          Nevin chuckles and snaps his fingers. And suddenly, he’s gone.

          “Wh—did he really just?”

          Faris’ anger fades from his face, melting into a grimace as he stumbles backwards and nearly falls. Raziel catches Faris just in time and stabilizes him. “You okay, Ferry?”

          Faris shakily holds on to Raziel’s arms and pulls himself up. “Y-yes, I’m fine. Thank you, Razi.”

          Raziel lets go after a moment’s hesitation. He assesses the group’s well-being after the assault by Nevin. “Everyone okay?”

          Naia salutes, “No worries with us. You?”

          Raziel quietly watches Faris approach Ernst’s body. “Yeah, Faris and I are fine,” he says while watching Faris kneeling and closing Ernst’s eyes. Faris sits down and pulls Ernst into his lap, fixing the dead man’s appearance wherever he can.

           “Faris, you can grieve, like I promised—”

           Faris stands up while carrying Ernst’s corpse. “I-I… have to fight. I can’t rest until… until I avenge him. I know Ernst would want what’s best for me, but I want to see his name remembered fondly. I want to share his bravery, his… his willingness to give up his life for a lovesick fool like me.” Faris adjust his grip on Ernst, carrying the long-gone man on his back. “I can still fight, but I want to bring him back for a proper burial. It’s the least I know I can do for him.”

           Faris is encumbered by the weight of his heartbreak both literally and figuratively. Raziel respects his decision and nods. “Tell me, how are you feeling?”

           Faris lets out a shaky breath. “Like all I can feel is the negative void. But I think I have a good grip on Dionysus.”

           Faris can’t use his weapon or summon his Hermit persona today. “You sure you want to chase Nevin now?”

           Faris gives a resolute nod. “We’ll lose him if we leave now. I want justice for the one man I can say I truly loved.”

           Raziel feels hurt over Faris’ word choice but makes no comment. Naia pats Raziel on the back and whispers, “You’ll either have your chance another time, or you’ll find someone else.”

           “I know, Nai. I just wish I could be of more use to Ferr.”

           Naia looks over to the group and notices them all gazing sadly at Faris’ back, with Ernst on his shoulders. “Trust me, Raz, we all do.”

           “Move out,” the two leaders give the command as they walk astride Faris, approaching the staircase and steeling their hearts for whatever treachery might com

[esquimaltnanaimo]

Royal Rescue Ch.5 - Reunion

"124… the heck? CHLOE?!"

The approaching engine screeched to a stop next to Ellie, slowly ambling forward alongside Chloe. They were another GP9, just like Chloe and 119, but they were numbered 135 and painted with a red circle logo and "SRY Rail Link", instead of Chloe's white stripes and E&N logo. As soon as the islander Geep saw them, she immediately forgot about the situation. "Ohmygosh, Sis!!" she chimed, smiling brightly. "Gosh, it's been--" "Sis, what the hell are you doing back here?" asked 135 suddenly, cutting Chloe off.

"…Jeez, nice welcome party," said Chloe, smiling at her sister engine jokingly. "A-are you friend or foe?" squeaked Ellie, from behind. 135 didn't hear her. "OK… sorry, sorry," said 135. "It's great to see you, Chlo, but… seriously, you gotta get back to the Island. How'd you even get here?" "Ferry," said Chloe simply. She took a breath to continue, but 135 cut her off again. "OK, obviously, ferry. That was a dumb question," said the SRY Geep. "But seriously, you gotta get out of here. You aren't registered to Southern anymore, and 119's gonna shove you around if you try to move from the shop." "119… Carla, Jules, she has a name," said Chloe, in an accusatory tone. "What's up with her, anyway?"

Jules…? thought Ellie.

135 sighed. "Chloe, that isn't Carla anymore." "She's a cyborg… isn't she?" asked Ellie, quietly. Chloe opened her mouth to speak, but 135 finally noticed Ellie before she could. She rolled backwards to see the smaller engine. "…Jeez, I didn't even notice the switcher," they said. "Sorry I just blew right past you. What's your name?" "H-hi," squeaked Ellie nervously. "I'm Ellie. I'm not even Canadian…" 135 chuckled. "Julie," she said with a smile, "but you can call me Jules. And don't sweat the non-Canadian thing, none of us are. Save for the switchers. And the SDs, but they're assholes." "Okay," replied Ellie quietly. She wasn't really sure what else to say, as Julie rolled forward again to continue talking to her sister.

"Anyway, Chloe," began Julie. "About 119. Long story short, just… things have gone totally off the rails here since you left in '04." "What… happened?" asked Chloe, worried. Duncan looked sad. "Presumably some real bad shit," he put in. Julie sighed and said, "OK, everyone, this is gonna get really heavy. You might want your handbrakes on." Ellie looked worried. "Sh-should I be human for this, Duncan?" "No… that might freak people out. And draw more attention." "Wait, what?" asked Julie, looking surprised. "…It's a joke," said Ellie, quickly. She gave a half-fake-sounding laugh, hoping she'd save face. "Yep. Inside joke," added Duncan.

Julie looked confused, but she decided to not ask questions. "…OK, whatever," she said, looking to her sister. "Anyway… Chloe, you remember our switchers, right? The 900's?" Ellie perked up at the word 'switcher', looking terrified. "Of… course I remember them," replied Chloe. "Well… we're down one." "Oh, gosh… Sold?" "No. Killed." "What??" Ellie's engine backfired. "Wh-what??" she squeaked. "Oh my gosh… Was there a derailment? Were they… What did I miss??" stammered Chloe. "Well, you saw the slug coupled to 119, didn't you?" asked Carla, serious. "The what…?"

Ellie froze, putting two and two together about the strange car coupled to the cyborg Geep. "Slug…? Diesel tender… Switcher trucks… switcher…" Julie stopped, and was about to ask if Ellie was alright before she was cut off by the sound of the little switcher throwing up. Both Geep sisters winced. "Jeez… Are you OK?" Julie finally asked, after a moment. Ellie was still recovering, so Duncan stepped in. "She's… from preservation. We're totally out of the loop…" he explained, rubbing Ellie's side as dark brown engine oil spread across her pilot. Julie felt awful. "…Yikes, I'm sorry. I should've warned you." "It's… ugh." croaked Ellie, tears rolling down her face. "That's so inhumane!" she cried, sobbing. "That poor engine… Oh, Watty Piper, if I ever get out of here, I'm going to pray every Sunday like a good little diesel…" "…Don't mind her," said Duncan, apologetically. "She's still pretty young minded." Julie cracked a small smile at Ellie's praying, then sighed. "It's OK," she said.

Duncan proceeded to look for some shop towels to clean the oil off of Ellie's pilot, while Carla continued her explanation to her sister.

"So…" began Chloe, quietly. "Who was it…? The… slug." "Tamara," replied Julie. "The one the managers bought surplus from the pulp mill in Squamish." "Great rails above… That's so awful." Duncan had found some towels, and climbed back up onto Ellie's front platform. "I'm sorry for your loss, Julie," he said. "Thanks," replied the SRY engine. "We're pretty much used to it at this point, but… thanks." Ellie was repeating something quietly to herself, while Duncan cleaned up the mess on her pilot. "Still… it's fucked up," he said. "I'm afraid it… gets worse, actually." replied Julie. "How could it possibly get worse?" asked Chloe, in disbelief. "Don't say that," said Ellie, quietly. "When you say that, it gets even more worse."

Julie went on. "Well… You guys saw 119. Before Carla was sent off for her… rebuild, I guess, she was derated to a master engine." "Master engine?" asked Chloe. "It means…" began Julie, sighing. "It means she's perma-coupled to the slug out there, and half her generator's energy goes to the slug's traction motors. It's called 'master and slave' by the railway. 119's the master, and the slug is the slave." Chloe recoiled in horror. "That's disgusting!! What an awful name… so half her power's getting sucked off by… Tamara's body?" "Basically." Chloe was horrified. "I'm… at a loss for words," she said. Ellie sobbed. "…If it makes you feel any better," said Julie, "Carla doesn't feel it. She's gone." "Oh, right… the rebuild…" "Yeah. It's why we call that thing 119 instead of our sister's name." "R-right…"

"Anyway, speaking of… Before Carla got sent away, when she first got mated to the slug, she was still herself," continued Julie. Chloe looked worried. "And…?" "Well… She started complaining about hearing voices, and… how she couldn't get the slug to pull all the time, and how she didn't want to be a master, so…" As Julie trailed off, the only sound was Ellie retching again. Duncan rubbed the side of the little switcher's hood, trying to help her feel better. Chloe and her sister looked at each other, then back at her. "…I know I asked before, but are you OK?" asked Julie, concerned. "I'm sorry… this is just so gross to me," said Ellie weakly. "And she heard a voice of the fallen… that's…" she trailed off, shivering in fear and horror. "That's what the rest of us thought, anyway," said Julie, sighing. "We never really got a chance to find out for sure, before… well…" Chloe shuddered, remembering what Jordan had told her before she left the island with Ellie. "Her rebuild... the ECO program?” "Yup." said Julie simply.

The three engines were silent. 119 came into view again, continuing to shunt freight cars in the yard robotically, with the slug engine that used to be Tamara coupled to its rear.

Chloe looked at 119's face. She looked at the blush marks on its cheeks just like her own, the once-bright, unblinking eyes, the number boards, the paint patch over where "CARLA" used to be written… and remembered.

She remembered back before she moved to the Island, when she still belonged to SRY. She remembered how often she would team up with Carla, and how well they worked as a team on light transfers and industry runs.

She remembered Montana, the day all the Rail Link engines got their five-chime horns, and how Carla picked the wrong one just because she liked the sound better.

She remembered when she was still in Burlington Northern green, sitting nervously in the repair shop as her high short hood was chopped down, with Carla being there through the whole process to comfort her.

She remembered when she met Carla for the first time, both sisters fresh from the factory, coupled face to face as helpers on a Northern Pacific heavy freight train.

"Sis…"

"…Yeah?" said Julie, looking at Chloe, who was silently watching 119. "…I'm sorry I left." Julie recoiled. "Don't you dare," she scolded. "You're E&N now, you belong there. And it wasn't your choice, either way." "Still," began Chloe, but she trailed off. "Think about it, Chlo," cut in Duncan. "What if it was you who got rebuilt like 119?" Chloe blinked. "I'd… rather not." "Duncan!" cried Ellie, starting to tear up again. "Don't say that…" "Yeah, that wasn't cool to bring up," agreed Julie. Duncan felt awful, and apologized, while Chloe was silent again. She was thinking about a lot of things at once. "I miss home," said Ellie suddenly, quietly. "I just wanna save Gloria and get back home to where I can't get turned into a slug, or a re-power, or… put in a museum…" "Save-- what?" asked Julie. She looked to Chloe. "OK, let's drop the horrific explanations--" "Please," replied her twin. "…Yeah, let's do that. What's going on? Save Gloria?" Chloe looked at her sister, serious. "It's why I came back," she said, sounding determined as she remembered her and Ellie's mission. "We're going to save an engine." Ellie perked up. "Gloria, the last running Royal Hudson," she added. Julie blinked, and immediately looked doubtful. "You're joking, right? She's all the way in Squamish." "We're not kidding," chided Duncan. "And… how in the hell do you plan to do that, exactly? You'd have to go through the city, and there's at least three yards between here and the outskirts!" "Illusions," said Ellie, simply. And with that, she shut her eyes and focused, just as Julie looked back to ask her what she meant. Her eyes met not a small bright-blue switcher, but an even smaller, black, ancient-looking steam engine.

Julie's jaw almost hit her pilot. Chloe giggled as Ellie quickly changed back, and Duncan breathed a silent sigh of relief about how Ellie could still focus and hold an illusion spell even when she was distressed. After a moment of speechlessness on Julie's part, Chloe began to explain briefly. "Duncan gave us magic crystals that we can use to disguise ourselves as different engines," she said. "Like, ones that wouldn't get caught." "And, record for most words I've never heard together in a sentence, broken," deadpanned Julie. "No words." Chloe couldn't help but giggle some more. "By the way!" added Ellie, feeling a lot better now that they had changed subject. "You know the joke I made about turning human earlier?" "…It wasn't a joke, was it-" began Julie, but she was cut off by the switcher, who now stood behind Chloe as a short, blonde, soft-looking human girl, wearing a blue jersey emblazoned with a large white "2", a pair of dusty jeans, and heavy-duty work boots. "It wasn't a joke!" she chimed with a big smile, doing a small 'ta-da' pose between the rails.

Julie now truly had no words. "I know, right?" laughed Chloe, again seeing her sister's expression. "OK, so… you have magic illusions and transformation powers now, OK. I'm guessing you can do the same stuff, huh Chloe?" "Yup! I'm not as good at it yet, but I can do it!" replied Chloe, shutting her eyes and preparing to use her crystal as well. Julie made a strange sound. "N-no, that's OK! I'm gonna save the questions, that's enough weirdness for one lifetime. Day. I mean day." "…You OK, sis?" "Yeah, fine, just… Suddenly my sister and her new friend-" "Cousin!" corrected Ellie cheerfully. "…Cousin have magical transformation powers," said Julie. "It's weird, and it's a lot to process. And on top of that, you're going to rescue a steam engine? What're you even rescuing her from?" "Becoming stationary," explained Duncan, standing next to Ellie. "Like, no steam, ever again." "Oh god, they're de-comming her?" asked Julie, gaining a look of fright. "Isn't she in pretty much perfect condition?" "It's what she said in her letter to Jordan…" said Chloe, sadly. "Yeah. Perfect shape or not, it's what the museum people want to do," said Duncan. "But we're gonna… 'borrow' Gloria. Forever. Like, forever-forever, so they can't do it," added Ellie, in a determined tone. Julie looked thoughtful. She hadn't thought her sister and the newcomers were serious at first. "…Well, jeez. Crisis all of a sudden," she said. She felt bad for doubting her sister, but decided to move on rather than apologize. "Do you guys need some help?" she continued. "I can round up the others, and we might be able to get you across town on a transfer or something…" "Wait. You guys still do the Downtown run?" asked Chloe, surprised. "I thought that ended before I left." "It started back up after CN reopened the Burrard Inlet line. We run stacks to Port Metro and back here now." Chloe looked confused. "…Stacks? Containers? Gosh, things have changed." Julie laughed. "It has been a while since you've been here, huh?" she teased. "Yeah, we started running stack trains. Trading tonnage with CP and CN, mostly." "Ahh, gotcha," said Chloe. "Well… Gosh, if you could get us across the city on one of those, it'd make the first part of our trip a whole lot easier." "Well, I'll talk to the others and see what we can do," said Julie. She looked out of the shed, spying 119 again. She frowned, then looked back to her non-rebuilt sister. "Sis, Ellie, Duncan, you three stay here, okay?" She was met with agreement from all three other parties. "Like, seriously, don't bother leaving. 119's still out there, it'll just come and shove you right back in if you even try to turn a wheel. I'll see if someone else can come and see you, and maybe keep watch." "You're the best, Jules… Thanks," said Chloe. "'Course, sis," replied Julie, as she started to roll forward out of the shop building. She stopped short and looked back at her sister. "Oh, and…" "Yeah?" The mainland Geep smiled. "Good to see you again, Chlo. Seriously, it is." The island Geep smiled right back. "Same to you, Jules… I'm glad you're doing OK." "That's a word for it," chuckled Julie, as she revved up her engine and rolled away, into the yard.

Chloe sighed as her sister left, smiling to herself. Ellie, on the other hand, was remembering the conversation at length and looked distraught. "…I need marshmallows," she said, quietly, and Duncan began to rifle through his messenger bag. Ellie's stomach gurgled after a moment, prompting her to look worried. "Or… m-maybe not," she said, and Duncan stopped. The comparatively enormous GP9 looked back at the human couple. "You okay, you two?" she asked, concerned. "I'm shocked, honestly," said Duncan. He didn't show it, but he was still trying to process all he'd seen and heard. Ellie, meanwhile, approached Duncan and pulled out a bright blue The Little Engine that Could plush from his messenger bag. Hugging it closely, she quickly, wordlessly climbed up onto Chloe's pilot. "Ellie? What are you…" began Chloe, surprised, as her cousin laid down on the cold metal and curled up into a ball in front of her face, shaking like a leaf.

The big Geep sighed gently, unable to really do anything to comfort her cousin. Fortunately, Duncan was on the scene and climbed up after his girlfriend, sitting next to her and gently stroking her back.

Silence reigned once more, for what felt like a long time.

--

(mun’s note: i moved chloe’s memory lane trip to this chapter! it was more fitting here, i thought. sorry this took so long, btw! it was a lot of stuff to edit XD)

[joshwritesforu]

The Wonderful Winston - Part 3, Candy Gram

Content Warning: Slurs

Read Part 1 here

Read Part 2 here

Harris Nguyen is very tired. The bags under his eyes seem to pull his entire face down with them. He has messy, patchy facial hair that just screams “yes, I am indeed a boy turning into a man.” He stands in the gas stop quick-mart candy aisle. He reaches for the Peanut M&Ms, but stops when he hears a noise. He turns and sees a woman pushing a stroller. He looks back at the candy. Peanut M&Ms. He quickly snatches them and stuffs the bag quietly into his hoodie pocket. He then swipes a pack of Twizzlers, slipping them into his jeans. Harris finally takes a package of two Twinkies and puts those in his hoodie pocket, carefully placing them next to the Peanut M&Ms and clasping his hands together in the pocket so to make the act more believable, and stop the plastic rustling noises. He then takes a bag of Hot Cheetos to the counter.

“Two fifty-eight.” The clerk never even bothers looking up at Harris. It’s 2 a.m., after all. Everyone’s just about dead inside. Harris hands over three dollar bills.

“Keep it.” He quickly walks out, and successfully gets past the automatic door. Success. Harris has pulled off yet another Ocean’s Eleven-style heist with efficiency and believability. He’d personally rate this an 8/10.

Harris promised Mr. Winston he would stop stealing. He promised he’d stop doing most of the things he usually does, actually, but stealing was a big one. And Harris wanted to keep the promise, really and truly, but committing was harder than he could have ever expected. It was just so easy, and what, was the gas station going to fold because some kid took six bucks worth of junk food?

Although he did make the promise.

Five months ago, Harris broke Tommy Bautista’s jaw. When Tommy ran to the office and Harris realized he was in deep shit, he went straight to Mr. Winston’s classroom. He didn’t really know why. Maybe it was because Mr. Winston was one of maybe two teachers in his lifetime who didn’t actively hate him.

“You gotta help me out, Mr. Winston.”

“What’s wrong, Harris? You got questions about the test?”

Harris looked at Mr. Winston like he just asked if dogs could fly.

“What? No. I just punched Tommy and it looks like he’s real hurt. I think I really screwed up.”

Mr. Winston closed his laptop.

“Why did you punch him?”

“He called me a faggot! Multiple times!”

“Was there a reason you went straight to violence?”

“Uh, yeah, he called me a faggot. Like, five times.”

“Okay. Here’s what you do. You apologize. Even if you don’t think you have to, do it anyway.”

“Why? I’m not a faggot.”

“Stop saying that. Let me finish. Call me in. I’ll tell them about your improvement in my class, and how I think your behavior is improving as well. And promise them it won’t happen again. Seem sincere and, even better, be sincere. I think they’d take that.”

“Tommy doesn’t have to do shit? That’s fucked, man.”

“Listen. Tommy’s an asshole, but he doesn’t give the teachers and staff trouble. You’re on thin ice, kid. And Tommy can be an asshole before he’s hit with real-world shit that’ll leave him crying, but you still have a chance. I really think you do. But not if you get expelled.”

“Whoa. Are you allowed to say that about students?” “Are you allowed to punch a guy?”

Harris sat down.

“Do what I tell you. I can get you out of this. But only if you promise to give a damn, if not in any other class, at least mine. Okay?”

“Alright. Fine.”

“Good.”

Mr. Winston extended his hand. Harris reluctantly shook it. And lo and behold, Mr. Winston was right. Harris only took a week’s worth of lunch detention, and in return he started showing up to class. It was hard at first; Harris would barely stay awake long enough to catch what Mr. Winston’s opening line of his Great Gatsby lecture was. His eyes would wander to the girls in class, and he could only glimpse the notes on the board when he was switching views from Andi to Jennifer. But Mr. Winston wouldn’t stop trying. It really was like one of those teacher-student prestige Oscar-bait movies, but with way more dick jokes flung around. Harris came into Mr. Winston’s classroom during empty hours, considering he didn’t really have anywhere else to be, and no one else to hang out with. Every day, something new would come up.

“Man, Daisy’s a real bitch, huh?”

Mr. Winston would chuckle. “I’m not so sure about that. I mean, consider Tom’s behavior, and how that might affect how she acts. Maybe she’s just as pained as Gatsby is, and we just don’t see it as much.”

“Yeah. Or maybe she’s a bitch.”

After a few weeks, things did start getting better. Harris’s grade went from an F to a C-. Mr. Winston got to improve a student. And they both made a new friend.

Yep. Real Oscar-bait, prestige film bullshit.

Later on, Harris had an idea. Kissler Oaks High, for some reason, did not have a book club. So with a newfound inclination to read rather than beat up kids on the reg, Harris started one. Mr. Winston would be advisor. They met every Thursday at lunch, and the club had six core members: Kelly, Lopez, Omar, Sheila, Gretchen, and Toby. It was a tight-knit group, a collection of black sheep kids who didn’t seem to belong anywhere else. The type of kids who were actively willing to discuss a novel for their precious lunch hour. This was insane. Harris had actually started a club, a club for nerds, and he enjoyed it. He truly had become what he once hated.

Harris sits on the curb. He takes out his peanut M&Ms and tears into them like some feral animal digging into his prey. He chooses out a green one, and pops it. He rolls it around in his mouth, lets the candy coating melt, and chews the soft chocolate. If everyone knew this is how Harris ate sweets, he’d probably get endless shit over it.

He looks up at the stars. They’re sparse, but at least he can still spot some, even discounting the satellites and occasional helicopter. He swears that he was able to see more of them when he was younger.

His phone rings. COME ON AND SLAM, AND WELCOME TO THE JAM! He looks at the caller ID. It’s Kelly. He picks up.

“Harris?”

“Hey Kelly, what’s up.”

“What are you doing right now?”

“...Nothing much.”

“You know how Mr. Winston didn’t show up to class for like two weeks?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you know why?” “Thought he was sick or something.” “Dude, I think he’s gone missing.”

Harris chuckles. “Sure.”

“I’m serious.” “Why do you say that?” “Considering people are saying that he’s gone missing. Check the news.” Harris tries to check on his phone, but it won’t load.

“Hold on, I’m out of data.” Harris walks over to the newsstand, and picks up a paper. He flips through it and

gets to the missing persons section. In a sea of lost kids and elderly folk, sure enough, Mr. Winston’s profile is splotched on the page. He has a beaming smile and wears a cardigan.

“Holy shit,” Harris says. He closes and opens the newspaper as if the image is a hallucination that would go away.

“Why hasn’t the school said anything about this?” His voice gets more strained.

“They’re late to everything. And I assume they’re waiting on more details.”

“Details? What details? This is happening because there aren’t any details!” He slaps the paper back in its plastic container.

“Yeah, I don’t know man.”

“What are we gonna do?”

“Don’t think we can do anything. The cops are already on it.”

“Sure, like the cops have a healthy thirty-something dude on the top of their priority list. They probably assume he’s gone hitchhiking or something.”

“I don’t know about that. But besides, we’re kids, Harris. We’ll just have to wait, I guess.”

“This is horseshit.”

“I know. Seeya in class.”

Monday. Literature class. For the sixth day in a row, the students have had to suffer under the boot of the teaching style of a lame-ass, slow-talking, nasal-voiced substitute teacher. Harris can’t even remember the man’s name. When he takes roll, it’s like the scene from Ferris Bueller, except far less funny and far more tragic.

“Mark Allen?”

“Here.”

“Jacy… Is it Jacy? How do you say that?”

“Jacy.”

“Jacy. Thank you. Jacy Anderson?”

“Here.”

“Luis. Sorry, how do you pronounce that? Soft or hard ‘S’?”

Thursday. Lunch period. It’s been three more days without Mr. Winston, and now the club is just seven kids gathered around an awkward circle.

“So, uh, how’s it going. What did you all think about-” Harris looks at the cover. “Slaugher-House Five?”

Sure, Harris was the club president, but he wasn’t exactly a great conversation leader.

“I don’t know. I thought there was too much cursing,” Sheila starts.

“Shut the fuck up, Sheila. Why are you always bitching about the dumbest shit?” Lopez bites back.

“Guys, calm down. Even though Sheila’s being an idiot right now, that doesn’t mean you can all have a free-for-all Hell in a Cell action bloc,” says Omar.

Harris zones out. He whispers to Kelly: “You’re in charge.” He walks to the principal’s office and knocks on the secretary’s desk.

“Is Mr. Gonzalez in?” Harris asks.

“Yes, what do you need?”

“To see him.”

“Let me just call in-”

Before he can finish, Harris storms straight to Principal Gonzalez’s office. At this point, he knows far too well how to get there.

The secretary gets up.

“Hey, I need to call in-”

Harris opens the door and sees Gonzalez eating a salad. He sighs, and pushes his lunch aside.

“Why didn’t John call you in?”

“Where’s Mr. Winston?”

“He’s out.”

“Oh really? Cause last time I checked… anywhere that wasn’t you guys, he’s actually missing. For real, missing.”

Gonzalez sighs. “Close the door.” Harris closes the door and sits down.

Gonzalez clasps his fingers together and places his hands on his desk.

“Harris. We don’t want to cause more panic than necessary.”

“A teacher’s missing!”

“Yes, but telling everyone won’t be productive. The police are doing their best, and we don’t know the extent of the situation.”

“The extent of the situation is Mr. Winston could be in deep trouble!” “And there’s nothing we can do about it, Mr. Nguyen. It does nothing to ease the problem and I’m afraid announcing it will only make things far worse. If you’re so inclined, though, there is something I believe you can do.”

“What’s that.”

“There’s a hotline where you can call in and give any information you can. I’m sure you have something you can give. Here’s the number.”

Gonzalez scribbles down a phone number and hands it to Harris.

“Alright. Thanks.”

Harris leaves and Gonzalez digs into his salad.

[courage-a-word-of-justice]

Tsukigakirei 6 | Kado 6 | Boku no Hero Academia 20 | Royal Tutor 7 | Grimoire of Zero 6

Apparently there weren’t 2, but 3 .5 episodes (i.e. series recaps) this week (although after Tsukigakirei and Kado, I haven’t found the 3rd series that was affected by such a thing)...with Boku no Hero Academia’s Hero Notebook, that makes a few recaps too many in one season. Still, it does (sadly) mean a break from Tsukigakirei and Kado for one week in regards to simulcast commentary, and it’ll be noted in the next commentary post’s title too (as I’ve done previously for Erased).

Tsukigakirei 6

Wait, there’s a 6.5? I don’t know about you, but a lot of times the .5 ep is a recap. With Tsukigakirei’s current track record of Very Bad CGI Background Characters, I’m not sure I need a .5 ep.

Kinako.

Aren’t there firearm laws in Japan? I’ve heard it’s the safest place in the world…

The piano here (I turned on the volume around here) is quite nice.

The mascot is part of Akane’s background. I guess I should’ve known.

Leaving out the fact Chinatsu likes Kotaro is going to damage you, Akane. That’s how it always goes in these sorts of shows…

I didn’t think Chinatsu would be so understanding…

I didn’t notice Hira had freckles. Or maybe someone added them by accident?

I wouldn’t recommend ditching friends who like the same guy as you (just as a pointer from someone who cuts off relationships a lot).

“Boxes”? Isn’t there a Box app out there or something?...There is indeed a Box app, but it’s for business and FTP. Boxes is then a parody of Dropbox.

I also wouldn’t recommend being sorry for falling for someone. If your feelings are genuine, then that’s all that matters.

Apparently there’s a LINE convo in the ED that changes every ep. I’ve never noticed it because I skip the ED of this show most times. This convo seems to be about finishing exams, at least for the top half or so, and it seems to be a convo with “Kanojo-san”, which could mean “Girlfriend” or just “Her/She” (more than likely the former).

Huh? Never seen this before, this “Sakura’s Fantasies”. It seems to be an omake, appended to the show itself. However, it’s kinda boring…Sure, there are good things about this show, but the show hasn’t actually tried its hand at humour until now (not to my knowledge) and this shows exactly why.

I keep forgetting who Roman is, so…Roman is pink-haired dude? Okay then.

Roman is definitely referring to a wedding dress, I know, but she’s already wearing a dress while looking at the mag, so the wording makes the joke fall flat for me.

Kado 6

Uh-oh. There’s a .5 episode on this show, as well…(it means we get more Kado, sure, but it may be a cost-cutting measure).

I found a guide on the Anisotoron language used for the ep titles while looking for spoilers (because I heard Shindo was forcefully promoted to a higher state of existence without zaShunina telling him…but since that’s an event that occurs in this ep, that doesn’t require a spoiler tag).

Well, it makes sense that those who are more “go with the flow”, like Shindo, would be able to…no, that’s not the right words for it. I think the key component of making a proper Wam is empathy.

Get your hands back on, Shunina. By the way, why’d you take Shindo’s Wam?

Note for later: Kado movement on Aug. 6th 2017. Kado is set in our current year…(I wonder what’ll happen if the anisotropic do arrive in our universe in the future? Would they laugh at zaShunina?)

Amplitude…after all of Kado’s physics, here’s one thing I happen to know about…if you don’t know about amplitude, check the explanation here). What does Kado have to do with waves…?

…Maybe it’s the amplitude of the ground…? That would explain why Kado can conform to a lake’s surface.

Notice there’s a red marking on the map for where Kado is and will be. Not sure if the demo cube is magentised…it’s definitely not velcro though.

Lookit Asano, sleeping on the fold out chairs…LOL.

There’s a box near the mother (on the counter) that says “Delicious Eggplants”.

For some reason, they chose to make the “visiting mother” scene in 2D, and…you know what I’m going to say, right? Knowing me and my gripes with CG? Yeah, you guessed it – it looks a lot better than if it were CG. It would’ve been costly to render the sunglasses and face mask too, I bet, and it seems to give the scene some gravitas due to the sudden contrast.

Octopus tentacles are meant to be snacks, in case you didn’t figure that out from the size of the serving.

…er, CGI Shindo drinking beer completely causes the gravitas to be lost. Welp, it was beautiful while it was happening.

I wonder what it means to show the origami turtles as a trio…it’s gt to be foreshadowing of some sort. Either it’s saying Shindo’s dad is dead or Shunina’s going to reveal how he breeds…well, those are my thoughts, but I heavily lean towards the latter as being true. (By the way, I always thought Shindo was a guy with siblings. Did anyone else think the same thing?)

I know your feels about having to get up early, Hanamori, but why were you running like you were trying to get away from Godzilla?

BVLCARI? Well, Asano’s watch seems to be roughly of that brand (as in, I may have gotten a letter or two wrong).

They’re going to drag Kado by the corner? I’d never think of that, but now that they’ve revealed this, Shindo made it (figuring out how to move Kado with least ground contact) seem a little too easy.

Kado spinning, with all those clouds around it, took my breath away…

Visually speaking, it’s interesting they showed kids on cube-like structures in a park. If I were an anime scholar, I’d want to analyse things like that. Unfortunately, there is no such title as “anime scholar”…

Geometrically speaking, it’s interesting they put Kado, a cube, next to a Ferris wheel, a circle. It’s almost like minimalist art.

*lowkey tries to stifle laughter* That’s not a brain! It’s an egg, or a pill or a lozenge, with brain-like designs in it!...Er-hem. Well, I knew this from the spoilers, but basically, what they implied with the “brain” was “Shindo hasn’t had to sleep since he got anisotropised (or whatever you call it)”.

Boku no Hero Academia 20

“Nabooh” is apparently a Star Wars reference. I hadn’t caught on to that sort of thing until my second watch through of the first season, where Deku cleans up Tatooin Beach and I thought, “That name is a little weird for an anime”.

Brainwashing. I’ve tried that sort of thing in stories before (it was in Conquest Dreams before it got deleted), but seeing the pros and cons of powers is something only the user can really see.

The static was a nice idea, visually speaking.

Ojiro, that’s not selfish at all…

Deku’s looking scary right now. Be careful not to become a villain, or else you’ll fall into the Nietzsche trap*! * - Nietzche once said, “He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you.”

The judo throw seems to be a favourite of Deku’s, eh? We saw it in his fight with Bakugo in s1.

I think I get Shinso, actually. The power of stereotypes is a harsh mistress.

I see…Shinso was pointing out Midoriya’s gullibility, in a way.

If Shouto wants to win over his dad, he should face off against another ice user. That’s how these things work, y’know. I should know because I tend to write these sorts of things (see White Parasite for one).

There’s a person in a tiger onesie…well, their onesie kinda looks like a tiger.

Royal Tutor 7

Make sure to keep your torte properly, Leo, or else…ew…

Aw, Bruni. Sad though it is, I know exactly how you feel. I used to be good at a lot of subjects, and in the advanced classes for them, but now I’m average, potentially even struggling in things I thought I was good at.

I have fond memories of a certain show where they’d have home improvement stuff that I’d watch on Friday nights with my dad. It’s still going as we speak, but it’s a shell of what it used to be in my opinion. Why do I bring up this show? It’s because this flashback reminds me of that nostalgia.

Why does Viktor want to have a “backup” successor then, if Eins is so good?(!)

I could see that “I will not have you as my apprentice anymore” line coming, although the line straight after it roped me out of dropping the show.

Dat Bruno sleeping at his desk. That would be me, if I were capable of sleeping at my desk.

Yeah, silver-haired man. In the words of the Who, “Who are you?”

*does double take* Smirdy-what???

(when Dmitri’s drinking his wine) Why do I have the feeling something’s about to go very wrong?...(when Bruno is asked to go away from Granzreich) Yep, must be that dastardly Count…

So Mr Fancy Hat (Heine version) is Eins’ high steward??? You pulled me right back into watching for at least the third or fifth time.

Ooh-wee, Mr Fancy Hat. That’s some soft power, carrot Machiavellianism you’ve got going on there.

Wuh? An old man making a Sailor Moon gesture is funny, but it does make me question exactly how drunk he is. It also makes me question stereotypes again (see Boku no Hero Academia above for the first time).

Ah, Bruni. I don’t just understand you, I grok you (as much as I’d hate to admit it). Back when I was writing Ro.Te.O, the demon of envy (Skyrua/Astaroth) was the easiest to write…

Smirdy-man, you do know what “sophistry” is, right? For reference, here’s Google-sensei to the rescue.

Borscht? I heard of it once, through Cooking Mama…(LOL. Shows how much I suck at recognising cuisine.)

For one second, I thought Heine was a mini ninja, not a mini teacher.

*ROFLs* They’re actually using the live-action version of the ED??? That’s a surprise I never saw coming! (Note: Prior to this ep, I saw the teaser version of this ED on ANN.)

Grimoire of Zero 6

“Grimoire of Zero” is shortened from “Starting the Magic Grimoire From Zero”…or something along those lines…

Thirteen’s name is actually a title, “The Thirteenth”.

How does being an animal correlate with “Because I’m eating, I won’t die?”…?

The thing about the clash of ideologies is that both sides can be as correct as each other…

I have the feeling the final opponent Albus and Mercenary will have to face (I think they’ll regroup) is not necessarily Thirteen, but Zero herself…*shivers*

Ah, the Machiavellianism strikes again! (See Royal Tutor above for the first time.)

A woman (Taichi You) voices Albus, and Takehito Koyasu voices Thirteen…hmph. What a cast.