#don’t die from you disability turning you into dust from how much pain your in ur so sexy haha

[holiestartthou]

Having a disability but not being able to get proper aid for it is the literal fucking worst. “You have X disability” my doctors tells me, but i am not disabled enough to require help bcoz obviously I am able enough to keep a job haha :)

A job that is wearing me down physically that I can’t keep up with but can’t afford to loose due to the current economy :)

A job that leaves me bed ridden on my days off and barely able to feed myself when I get home bcoz of how much fucking pain I’m in :)

A job that is making it extremely hard for me to do any of my hobbies bcoz of the physical and mental fatigue, which in turn makes my clinical depression worse :) b

A job that would do wonders for me to quit but is unfortunately the only high paying position around me and again: bills too high :)

[marvelandimagine]

I think some people mad about the arm is not necessarily about the fact that Ayo disabling the arm itself, it's more of the fact that it was not necessary and the fact that Bucky had no idea they can do that. If I were to be honest, I think it was not that necessary because Ayo is well capable of taking him down without having to disarm him and she is definitely not threatened by him. I think what some people find upsetting about that scene is the fact that it kinda comes off as Ayo putting Bucky in a position where it would make him feel like he doesn't have full control of his own body after all. The Wakandans, especially Ayo, T'Challa and Shuri had every right to feel betrayed and upset but the point is they should have told Bucky about how the arm can easily be disabled like that, they didn't know Bucky was going to set Zemo free when they gave him the arm and regardless of the things they have done for him and if they were ones who gave him the arm, they should have at least told him about it, because it's connected to him, it's a part of HIS body. It doesn't matter if it was necessary to disarm him or not, the point is they should have told him about it because apart from the fact that it's his body and that it was a bit insensitive given his history, it's also a point of vulnerability, and the fact that she did it in front of Walker (and possibly Zemo) --- people who can easily turn on Bucky, could easily that to their advantage and attempt to disable it themselves. Just my thoughts on it.

Thank you for sharing your perspective, anon!

I’m going to use this long-ass reply to address this stuff with Ayo and also voice some thoughts I’ve had over the past few weeks seeing people paint Bucky into being this complete soft and harmless human that needs 25-7 protection which I don’t jive with — and this is me, a complete Bucky stan.

Many moons ago, I saw a post that compared 1940s Bucky moving with stealth and a loaded gun on the train to the Winter Soldier doing the same thing, essentially discussing the similarities and debating how much of non-brainwashed Bucky was in the Soldier. And I think the fandom forgets or chooses to neglect the following when painting him as this fragile, peace-loving guy:

Bucky was an incredibly skilled sniper in the United States Army. His job is to eliminate threats in the most efficient way possible, and he’s good at it. HYDRA gets their hands on him and + the serum, this gets magnified. It wasn’t like HYDRA turned him into someone with the ability and mental capacity to kill — that was already there. The brainwashing and torture just carved out the rest of him to leave those honed skills and an amplified ruthlessness with no moral issues, no sense of self to contend with. That ruthlessness is part of Bucky, whether people like it or not.

When Bucky is outside of HYDRA for the first time and hiding in Civil War and gets attacked, he’s so brutal in his actions that Steve Rogers, the man who literally was ready to die to save Bucky and free him when no one else believed in the good in him, intervenes because “Buck, you’re going to kill someone.” Bucky responds that he’s not going to kill anyone, but the fact remains: with or without HYDRA control, Bucky has a strong capacity for violence that hovers on brutality — again, what’s the most efficient way to eliminate or neutralize a threat? Like, I don’t want to kill you, but I’ll knock your ass out with cinder blocks to the chest.

Bucky has a good heart, he’s loyal, he’s smart, he’s caring, he’s the longest-standing POW in history and was turned into a slave for decades, put through unimaginable trauma and torture and horror with no escape. Bucky is also a strong and incredibly skilled super soldier who has a bionic arm, is a trained sniper, is unnervingly precise with knives, and self-describes himself as “semi-stable.” Zemo notes in the bar that “it didn’t take Bucky long to get back into form,” and he’s right because the ruthlessness and skill of the Winter Soldier is a part of him and always has been. We see it when he has his hand around Zemo’s neck and tells him he will kill him, when he rips the glass from his hand and throws it across the room.

And I’m sure the Wakandans know all this about Bucky, this light and his ability for hard-to-stop violence, whether from talking to Steve and Bucky or doing their own homework. And they still choose to help him out of the goodness of their hearts because he’s been put through hell and they believe they have the capacity to help him and it’s the right thing to do — they’re betting more on those positive attributes. And they put a failsafe on his arm, a literal weapon, and chose not to tell him. You know why I think that shows how much they did care about him? Because they could’ve blatantly come out and said “Hey, we don’t trust you,” and hurt him outright, but they didn’t because they’re betting on the light in Bucky to outweigh the dark or any future manipulation. That it’s a worst-case scenario function they hope to never have to use — so they’re prepared if shit hits the fan, and if it doesn’t, Bucky doesn’t have to be hurt feeling like he can’t be trusted. I see no issues here, they’re just being cautious.

Now coming to Ayo, my QUEEN Ayo. From that beautiful, beautiful opening scene, we get to see her support, her reassurance, her belief that Bucky will be able to work through this, even when he doesn’t believe it himself. She watches him fight and struggle and cry, and you can feel the hope in her and how moved she is when she gets to tell him it worked, he did it — he’s free. And she says it not once, but twice. And you can hear not just the comfort, but the PRIDE and warmth in her voice directed to him, who I’m sure she’s watched throughout the whole deprogramming process and gotten to know and is happy to see him work through the pain and come out on the other side.

And then she sees that same individual make a decision in freeing Zemo that she perceives as a “fuck you” not just to her country, but to her, someone who was charged with protecting her king. She could’ve just disarmed Bucky the second they met up, but she doesn’t. She takes the time to explain her side and her feelings, her guilt and her shame, and basically implies that she feels betrayed by Bucky because Wakanda helped him and now he’s doing something that’s hurting her country. And still, she doesn’t attack or just go get Zemo. She gives Bucky the benefit of the doubt and a whole 8-hour American workday to do what he has to do because again, she believes in the best of him. And then that time limit runs up, and he chooses to get in her way.

And that’s the final straw. She’s angry, she’s guilty, she’s frustrated, and she feels betrayed hurt by someone I think she did respect and care about, someone whom she worked with and helped and supported when he was his most vulnerable. Did she “need” to disarm the arm to fight Bucky? Probably not. But is she doing it in the heat of battle and adrenaline and a whole bucket ton of emotions, including what she sees as the White Wolf blatantly disrespecting her country and her as a person and even friend and she just says fuck it, I’m done? You hurt us and me, and I’m going to hurt you back? Oh yeah. And Bucky looks shocked, not because he’s a poor fragile baby and “oh no, my arm, how could you?? my TrAumA”, but in the dual realization of “oh shit, how’d you do that?!” and “oh shit, I think I crossed a line here.” And also, I don’t think a single person in that room would be able to recreate the disabling sequence other than Ayo — it’s way too targeted and specific for someone like Walker to pick it up in the whole three seconds it took.

People need to stop reducing characters to these black and white extremes of soft and hard, of good and bad. Doing so completely devalues and ignores the REALITY of the complexity of being human, and Bucky and Ayo are both great examples of that played by stellar actors who portray that range and depth extremely well. End of the day, my thought is that the failsafe in the arm was justified and people need to stop coming for Ayo based on this ridiculous narrative that Bucky is too traumatized and sensitive and too much of a fave to ever be challenged or he’ll explode into dust. Boy deserves a life of freedom and healing and mental health support, but he’s also still a formidable opponent with the capacity for violence and skillset to kill. People are more than one thing.

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk!!

[wanderinginksplot]

Nobody Listens to Kix

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Case 01132: Crosshair

Kix shifted impatiently as he watched the small fleet of ships - smaller than it had been when it left the Republic base - drift gently into the hangar bay. He had gotten a notification from General Kenobi to be on-call. The situation on Anaxes had been resolved with only minor casualties, but it never hurt to be prepared.

When the ships settled to rest on the ground, several men around Kix grumbled that it was a good thing the Bad Batch hadn't been flying. Apparently, they had already earned a reputation for landing with more speed than skill. Their last landing had nearly caused what would have been the single largest loss of Republic troops since Geonosis.

The men began exiting the LAAT/i closest to Kix and he found himself looking at Echo. Kix had thoroughly examined his presumed-dead brother when he returned from Skako Minor. The trooper had been in bad shape, but Kix had to admit that the cybernetic work the Separatists had done was top-notch. Other than malnourishment and some overloaded circuitry - most likely damaged during the rescue - Echo had been in surprisingly good health.

Still, Echo's face was pale and angular, cheekbones jutting out in a way that seemed almost painful. He walked slowly, carefully… It always seemed as though he were waiting for something to take his legs out from under him.

Even as Kix watched, Echo stumbled and was supported by Rex, who had thrown out an arm immediately to catch him.

Kix rushed forward, ignoring the dust thrown into the air by the other LAAT/i ships landing nearby. "What happened?" he asked immediately.

Echo glanced up at him, his light brown eyes looking even lighter in his sallow face, and simply shook his head. Kix's heart sank and he looked sharply to the captain.

"Echo plugged into the Seppie's system and sent them the wrong battle plans before putting a surge through to disable their clankers," Rex explained heavily. "It worked perfectly, but they isolated the signal and sent a surge back. It gave him a pretty good shock."

Kix grimaced. "Let's get you to the hangar medbay, Echo. I'll need to do a full diagnostic check."

"Aw, leave him alone," Wrecker grumbled from behind them. "He's awake now, isn't he?"

"It knocked you unconscious?" Kix asked immediately.

"Yeah," Echo admitted lowly.

After making sure that Rex had a good hold on his injured brother, Kix turned to look at the Bad Batch. "Unconsciousness is always something to worry about. I'll need to do a full scan to make sure everything is okay. The three of you should come in for checks as well."

"Er… don't you mean four?" Hunter asked slowly, staring around at the other men of Clone Force 99.

"No, I don't. Three of you have a choice, but I see Crosshair's injury no matter how well he thinks he's hiding it. Follow us to the medbay, trooper."

"I'll be fine," Crosshair snarked.

"That's the spirit," Kix encouraged, even as he turned his attention back to helping Echo. "I'm an excellent medic and I can treat whatever injury you sustained. You certainly will be fine."

"I get the sense that you didn't make any friends there, Kix," Rex warned lowly, following Kix into the building.

"I'm a medic, sir," Kix reminded. "My business is caring for the men's health, not being their favorite person."

As they walked toward the hangar, Kix could hear a soft argument break out between Hunter and Crosshair, but Rex, Echo, and Kix had only just stepped into the medbay when the sniper slouched in behind them.

Scanning them was a moment's work. Rex was in perfect health other than a touch of fatigue and was immediately discharged from the medbay. Echo's nervous system showed signs of stress and there were minor burns on the segment of his arm that was connected to the data probe that had received the shock. Kix bandaged the burns and administered a mild set of pain meds before settling him into a bed. Finally, he moved his attention to Crosshair.

The serious trooper hadn't removed a single piece of his armor, but Kix didn't bother asking. Instead, he turned the power up on the scanner and scanned Crosshair's body from head to feet and back up. He ran the scanner carefully over the sniper's right elbow, where he had first seen the signs of an injury.

"You have a blaster wound piercing your anconeus muscle," Kix revealed.

"And here I thought I was just outgrowing my armor," Crosshair said dryly.

Kix surveyed the sniper without commenting, but he knew the message came through clearly enough: Crosshair had a slight build for a trooper. The idea of him outgrowing his armor in any capacity was laughable.

As Crosshair watched Kix's unspoken insult, his jaw tightened until Kix worried he would have to pull the splinters of the brother's toothpick from his mouth. To stop the unnecessary theatrics, Kix said, "As a sniper, you know that your anconeus is pretty important to the shooting process. Are you going to let me treat it?"

Crosshair blinked in surprise, but tried to hide the reaction. "Are you saying you're gonna give me a choice?"

"I don't like forcing my brothers into treatment," Kix said evasively.

Seeming to realize that it wasn't an answer, Crosshair narrowed his eyes, but gave a single nod.

"Good," Kix said. "Remove your shoulder armor and both sets of arm plates, then sit down. I'll be back with the necessary supplies."

It took a little bit longer to find what he needed in the unfamiliar medbay, but Kix managed, passing by a now-sleeping Echo to get to where Crosshair waited in uncomfortable silence.

In the time it took Kix to cleanse the wound, use an internal variation of bacta gel, and start applying bacta patches to the entry and exit points of the injury, Crosshair still hadn't spoken. Working as closely as he was, Kix could feel the tension radiating from the trooper.

"I'm almost done here, then I'll issue you some pain meds and we'll get you settled in for the night," he said, more to break the silence than anything else.

Crosshair snorted. "I'm not staying here tonight."

"You certainly are," Kix replied blandly. "I'll need to observe your wound to make sure it's healing properly. Don't think I didn't notice the elevated pulse and blood pressure, either. I have to be certain that's normal."

"We don't like medical centers... or medics," Crosshair said gruffly.

"I'm sorry, but the regulations are cle-" he cut himself off as Crosshair made a rude noise. He didn't know much about the Bad Batch, but most of the troopers hadn't enjoyed their time in medbays on Kamino, and Kix was no fool. There was probably a very good reason for Crosshair's venom.

With that in mind, Kix dropped his professionalism down a notch in order to level with the trooper: "Listen, I can't let you leave knowing that something could go wrong and you could lose the arm or die because I wasn't there to notice when things started going south. You'll stay here tonight with Echo. Spend the time cursing my name if it makes you feel better, as long as you're doing it here."

Crosshair snarled and opened his mouth to say something Kix was sure would be rude, but he was interrupted by the medbay doors opening. Hunter stepped through, followed by Tech and the hulking Wrecker.

"Gentlemen," Kix greeted politely, gathering the medical flotsam that tended to collect when an injury was being treated.

"Kix," Hunter returned. "We thought about your offer and we're here for scans."

"Good. Give me just a moment and I'll get the three of you scanned," Kix said, shooting Crosshair a firm look. "Pick a bed, trooper."

After disposing of the mess, Kix scanned the three remaining members of Clone Force 99, finding nothing worse than light fatigue, mild dehydration, and a single pulled muscle in Hunter's leg. True to Crosshair's word, all of them showed signs of stress and tension, likely from being in the medbay. Kix ignored that and focused on the treatable things.

He administered a pain patch for the pulled muscle and advised all of them to drink some water and get a good night of sleep.

"There is no need to pull watch duty while you're on-planet," Kix told them. "The regular troopers stationed here have a rotational system, so there's always a guard monitoring the perimeter. All of you should sleep as long as possible."

"Do you need us to stay here tonight?" Wrecker asked, glancing around uncertainly.

"It could be a medical necessity," Tech volunteered, watching Crosshair even as the tattooed trooper avoided his eyes.

Kix had a refusal ready to go, but paused at the last moment. "We don't like medical centers… or medics," Crosshair had said. If the others were volunteering to stay, it could be that they didn't want to leave their teammate here alone.

"Hmm… I think it would be for the best," Kix lied. "I need to monitor your fluid intake and I can make sure no one disturbs you while you rest. Best settle in for the night, vode."

Tech and Wrecker moved toward the beds, settling into ones on either side of the wounded troopers. Tech was rattling off factoids about bacterial growth all the while and Wrecker was crowing about winning some kind of bet against Crosshair.

Before he left the area, Kix caught sight of Hunter. The sergeant gave a deep nod of thanks - a gesture Kix returned before moving to the small desk at the front of the medbay, ready to keep watch as long as his brothers needed if it meant they felt safe enough to rest and heal.

---

A/N - sorry this is coming so late! Thank you for reading!

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

HOLD ME

Alexander “Tig” Trager x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: about suicide and drugs. Angst.

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @chibsytelford 💘

Author comments: I hope you all enjoy. Gif isn't mine, credits to the author.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​@sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

Your phone rings in the middle of the night, palming the nightstand sleepy to hook off the call.

“He—Hey, my sunshine…”

Pulling it somewhat away, you check the hour.

“Good god, Alexander… It's four”.

“Yeah, I'm so—sorry. I just wanna hear yo—your voice”.

“Are you drunk?” Rolling over the bed you used to share with him, you rub your eyes with two fingers leaving a heavy snort on air.

“More or less”. Chuckles by the other side of the speaker.

“I'm gonna han—”

“No! Listen, lis—listen… Listen, how was your day?”

“Alexander, I'm tired. And I was sleeping”.

“I kno—I know. I'm sorry, baby”.

Everytime he calls you by that pet-name gives you chills. You still in love with him, after almost seven years with that man and all its ups and downs. It's been six months since he fucked up what you had together and it's the first time he calls you, even if you have seen him before at Teller-Morrow, sometimes, when Jax had needed you.

“I'm sorry f—for everything I've done to you”.

Your heart is racing so fast that you're starting to think it's going to jump off of your chest.

“I hurt you and you didn' des—deserve it. You're the love of my life. I'll alw—always love you and I want yo—you to remember it, okay?”

That sounds bad. That sounds pretty bad. Sitting up on the bed and turning the light on to take away the sheets, you place your feet on the floor walking close to the chair where your clothes are.

“Hey, Tiggy, listen. You've revealed me, uh?” You're trying to keep calm, because you have never heard him talk like that. “Where are you? I've actually had a ba—”.

“Shh… It's ok—okay, baby. Don't worry”. Hearing some coughs while you're wearing a pair of jeans, supporting the phone between your ear and your shoulder, you try to find the keys of your car. “I just ho—hope that you can find som—someone who loves you as I do… But never hurt y—you as I did”.

“Tiggy, come home”.

“Go back to sl—sleep, everything is go—gonna be okay”.

Before you can say anything else, he hangs up the call. You try to call him again but the phone is off. Running to your car, you type Jax's number by heart impatiently, turning on the engine.

“What's up, (Y/N)?”

“Is Tig there?”

“No”. He just say.

“Did you fight?”

Silence. Nothing. No words.

“He called me. Drunk. Telling me… things that sounded really bad, Jax. We need to find him”.

You can hear a snort.

“I beg you, Jax. Help me to find Tig”.

“Check the cabin, Chibs and me are on our way to his house. Call me back”.

Throwing the phone above the copilot seat, your press the gas as hard as you can. You're praying all you know to reach on time, before he can do something stupid. And the road looks like it's longer than never, even if you're driving over the speed limit. Lucky there's no police to stop you. A bunch of possible ideas dance in your head, which worse than the last, knowing well that Jackson should told him something about all the bad things he did. Starting by your relationship. And you were conscious that he wasn't well after leaving him. Tig just collapsed after understanding what he had done.

Car headlights illuminate the wooden facade and the black motorbike parked next to the porch. Stepping out of the car faster as you can, your legs burn running towards the door. You hit it with your palms, screaming out his name, for some long minutes. But there's no answer. The windows are covered by the curtains, disabling the view inside. Going downstairs out of the porch, you run again to the backyard, checking the other windows in case they're unlocked. Nothing. Wrapping your fist in the hoodie you're wearing, you hit the glass of the back door, hard enough to break it and slide your hand inside to open it.

“Alexander! Alexander! Tig!” You shout desperate turning all the lights on.

He's not there, but you find empty bottles of whisky lying on the carpet and some white dust scattered on the table, close to a small picture of both. Together. He's breaking your heart more painfully than six months ago.

“ALEXANDER!” You scream again running all over the cabin, going upstairs and stumbling an instant along the way.

All the doors are opened, peeking into each room till you finally find him. Your heart stops. Swallowing saliva you take a step with a hand raised to him. Tig is lying on the bed with the gun barrel pointed at his left temple.

“Tiggy… pull it down”. You whisper, trying to calm him in some way.

“No… No… Leave, baby…” He sobs loudly, shaking his head as the tears are running down his cheeks. “Leave, please…”

“I'm not leaving. Pull the gun down”. You take another step closer to him. Just two more and you can reach his feet.

“I do—don't want you to se—see me like that”. The man cries out somewhat loud. “Leave!”

“I'm not leaving, Alexander! Put the damn gun down!” You shout at him losing your mind. “Do you think this is the best way to fix it?!”

“I don' wan—wanna hurt you anymore”. Shaking his head again, he puts his gaze away from you.

“You're doin'et now”. You assure trying to breathe calm, leaning above the bed in slow motion by your knees, sitting on your heels. “I can't… live without you”.

Slow, so slow, you raise a hand straight to him.

“Give me the gun, my tiger”. You beg looking for those blue eyes you can die for.

He hesitates, finding yours in the middle of the dark, nodding somewhat gently. Looks like an eternity, an agonic one, watching him moving his hand close to yours till the cold steel touches your palm. You hold the heavy gun, locking it and throwing it to somewhere over the floor. His crying becomes louder and more bitter, as you crawl the mattress next to the Son'. By a side, you hold his neck wrapping it with your arms and forcing his head to rest on your chest. The mental breakdown that it's hitting his whole tensed body opress your breath, feeling him trembling under your grip.

“I'm so sorry, baby… I'm so sorry”. Tig bewails licking his chapped lips holding on the arm it's surrounding his throat.

You know he needs to treat himself about his alcohol addiction. That's the shit that always gets him in trouble. The same shit that fucked up what you built together through the years. Kissing dearly his head, you pull him closer, with the same pain that it's squeezing his heart like yours.

“Lemme take you to the shower”. Using a soft tone of voice, you get up from the bed with extreme care tangling your fingers with the longest.

He nods again, trying to put on his feet and supporting half of his weight on you. Placing an arm on your shoulders, you walk step by step, slow, to the bathroom some meters away from the main room. Turning on the light and sitting him down on the toilet, you begin to undress him starting by the sweaty shirt smelling like whisky. Continuing by his boots as Tig rests his back on the marble wall, you pull them by a side to unzip his jeans. So, when he's already naked, you help him to sit inside the bathtub using the cold water to wet his body. The man curls his knees against the chest, surrounding it with both arms and resting his head on it. He's not crying anymore, being somewhat shocked in complete silence.

When you think it's enough, you turn off the tap leaving some soft caresses on his back and kissing his kiss again. Getting up of your knees to grab a big towel hanging on the door, putting it in your shoulder so you can help your, yet, husband to lift his heavy body up. Wrapping him into the fabric, he gets out of the bathtub sitting back on the toilet.

“Stay here, okay?” You ask him caressing his cheek, as he nods with the head down. “I'll be back in a minute”.

Walking downstairs you call Jax, enough seconds to tell him you found Tig. Not how. Not where. Not how long ago. Only that you found him. Hanging up the call, you come back to the bathroom. The man still in the same position you left him. Making him kneel in front of the toilet, you open it.

“Open your mouth”. You just say, tucking two fingers in it until you press his throat.

Sometimes you ask yourself who else could do something like that. You love him too much to let him die. It's not his time. And of course, it's not the way. After several retching, he vomits.

“Throw it all, Tiggy”. You mutter pressing a hand on his abdomen and the other, after cleaning it on your own shirt, supporting his forehead.

He coughs some times, and smells pretty bad, but you should do it. Not as if it were an obligation, but a promise you made to him, even if he didn't fulfill his. Leaving him some seconds, you put the plug locking the sink to let the cold water run and fall on it like a cascade.

“Come're”. You whisper this time, getting him up and closing the tap.

He sinks his face inside it, breathing the water enough to clean his nostrils and his throat, until he drowns a little. Drying him with another towel, looking at you sad and distraught. Turning him by his shoulders and guiding his steps back to the room, as if he was a statue, Tig having a sit on the edge of the bed lets you dress him with a clean pair of boxers.

“Lie down”. You ask him putting a hand on his chest, to make him do it. And when you're about to come back to the bathroom, he holds your wrist.

“Don' leave, please”. He begs you with a broken tone and a painful gesture because the effort.

“No more drugs, nor alcohol”. You sigh, closing your eyes for a second feeling his fingers touring your skin till he tangled them with yours.

“I'll do wha—whatever you ask me to”. Cleaning his throat as he coughs again, pushes you closer. “I don' wan—wanna lose you again”.

You sit on the bed, turning above him to rest your free palm on the other side. Leaning forward over his chest, you leave a soft kiss on the man's forehead, pulling back some black wetted curls.

“You are the on—only thing I have loved in li—life. Nobody else. Noth—Nothing else. Only you”.

“I know”. You just say, pulling yourself away to lose yourself on his ocean eyes.

━━━━━━ ﹅ ━━━━━━

Sitting at the table and having a spoon full of Fruity Loops, you have the box in the other hand reading the clues for the crossword. It's a sunny day of a June morning and you're enjoying your free weekend in complete silence. Till the main door gets opened, followed by heavy steps crossing it. Tig appears in the kitchen with a hug smile draw on the corner of his lips. But there are no words, turning around the table and placing himself by your back. With a hand supported on the wood, the man puts somewhat like pocker red chip between the bowl and you. Looking at him a little confused and a raised eyebrow, you pull down your gaze again, taking it with two fingers.

“One year”. He just say with somekind of happiness in his voice.

He infects you that big smile on his face, sitting by your side and resting an arm on the top of your chair.

“'Am clean”. He adds then, poking the chip softly.

You can't believe a whole year passed by after that tragic night, when he almost ended up with his life. Jax told you to leave him at the clubhouse, but you knew it was the worst idea ever. So you brought him to the house you shared for seven years, hoping that it would help him to heal and redeem himself for all the wrong he did. He stayed at the closest room towards yours, being by his side. You fight with him the need he had of getting high, of getting drunk; forcing him to empty the bottles and throw the drugs inside the toilet before moving with you, to your house. And you also forced him to assist to every party SOA had. No whisky, no beer, no cocaine, no weed and no sex. Nothing for a year.

“I wanna make the right thing with you”. Tig says freeing your hands to hold them with his. “Give me a chance. A last one. No compromise. Just… think 'bout it and tell me whenever you want”.

Leaving a sigh and pulling away your eyes on nowhere, you end up nodding.

“Okay, but…”

“I'll not”. He interrupts you before you can finish the warning.

[anon-e-miss]

Primus Help the Outcasts 2

“Sit down, relax,” Jazz said, gesturing to a park bench.

Prowl did not want to sit. He wanted to pace and the curse the world, but he sat. He had not had a proper  recharge in mega-cycles. Not since that first dark-cycle when someone had opened the door to their room and peered inside. He had insisted his mechlings recharge with him since then even though the berth was really too small to chair and the berths were welded to the floor so he could not push them together. The energon was hardly strong enough to burn through the painful static in his battle computer but it was quick burst of energy and he had none.

“Why don’t ya just tell me?” Jazz asked. Prowl stiffened. “I’d rather hear yer take that read that tabloid scrap.”

“I...” Prowl paused as he tried to put his thoughts into some semblance of order.

He drank the pressed energon, less to buy himself a little more time to think and more to ensure Jazz could not take it from him. There would be no dinner for him. If they even had a room to go back to it would be lucky. Prowl could not blame Jazz for this. The priest was not about to suffer a broken servo with any kind of grace. They would camp out under the bridge, as they had the first dark-cycle after Lockdown had thrown them out. What they did after, Prowl did not know. He was quickly running out of options and hope. He only had a few emergency rations left for the mechlings. When those ran out, Prowl was going to have to make a choice, go crawling back to Lockdown and into his berth, or surrender his creations to SPS.

“Prowl?”

“When they found us, they found my Conjunx, my creations progenitor crushed by the vault.”

“That’s heavy,” Jazz replied. “Ain’t yer fault...”

“Oh it is,” Prowl said. “He had scratched his digits to the struts against the door while he begged me to let him in.”

“Ya knew he was there.”

“I did,” Prowl stared ahead. “I saw him on the cameras.”

“But ya didn’t let’m in,” Jazz said, slowly. Prowl was sure he was regretting buying Prowl energon. Too fragging bad for him. “Was the door stuck?”

“No. I watched him lead Seekers to the vault. I watched him enter the access code and I watched him realize it had been changed. The Seekers were not pleased with him when they were denied access to the Core.”

“Ya changed the code.”

“Yes. The Senate gave them the Core. They took down our shield as a sign of cooperation.”

“Ya tried to put it back up.”

“They disabled the power generators. I had full access to the Praxian surveillance network but I could not revive our self-defence network.”

“When did ya know they were gonna bomb Praxus?”

“When the last transports took off and the Seekers followed them.”

“Who was on the transports?”

“Praxians. They transported wave after wave of us. I watched them sort through my framekin. Some they loaded onto transports. Some they locked into warehouses.”

“What were they after?”

“Receptive sparks.”

“Oh frag.”

“Given what Vos has proven itself capable of, Cybertron has elected to be silent on the matter of hundreds of thousands of my framekin being taken into interfacial slavery.”

“Did the Senate know?”

“They knew what the Vosians were after. The transports appeared to surprise them. Crosscut had been surprised when I demanded he explain where the Vosians were taking these mechs. He refused my demands that he call up the enforcers to launch a counterattack.”

“Ya tried...”

“They cleared the precincts before they began processing the general population. By the time Smokescreen and I made it to the Core, there was no one to answer my comms.”

“How’d ya get down there?”

“Where is Bluestreak?” Prowl demanded. The fourth transport had taken off from the city centre. He could not understand how the Senate was standing by as half their population was being transported to Vos. Only Smokescreen had returned from school. Crosscut had not told him where Bluestreak was. He could not abide it.

“The Vosians wanted hostages from the Senate,” Crosscut replied. “He is fine.”

“They have thousands of hostages,” Prowl snapped. “Have you looked out the window? Have you looked.”

“He will not be harmed.”

“Have you no sense?” Prowl demanded. “They are looting Praxus of its mechanisms. They are stripping us of our defence. Why have you not summoned the Guard? Why have you not mobilized the enforcers? How can you just sit here and do nothing?”

“I am buying us time,” Crosscut slammed his fist down on the desk. His personal guard stood to his left and looked reproachfully at Prowl. The femme’s glare did not cow Prowl anymore than Crosscut’s fist.

“Time for what?” Prowl demanded. “How do you think this ends in anything other than the total submission of Praxus.”

“The codes to the Core have been transferred to the Vosian Honour Guard to ensure a smooth transition of power.”

“You gave the Core to the Vosians?” Prowl lunged across Crosscut’s desk and took him by the collar. “You gave Praxus to Vos.”

“Cooperation ensures we retain some autonomy.”

“It ensures nothing,” Prowl threw his Conjunx back. Road Rage helped him up after he bounced off the wall. She glared daggers at Prowl. “You self-righteous slagtard. You are selling the citizens of Praxus in the hopes that can maintain your authority.”

“Someone has to lead Praxus after the dust settles.”

“Where you the one who shot Lord Backfire? Or was that you, Road Rage.”

“Praxus does not stand a chance against Vos. Cooperation is essential to our survival.”

“Praxus stood a chance with the Core. But you threw that away. I am taking it back.”

“You will not,” Crosscut hissed. Prowl had his acid pellet rifle in his subspace and pointed it at his Conjunx and his guard.

“Try and stop me,” Prowl dared them.

“Smokescreen is in the lounge entertaining the Striker Trine,” Crosscut said, coolly. Prowl’s mechfluid froze in his lines. “Perhaps you should assist him.”

“You gave my youngling to Seekers?” Prowl screamed. “We do not even know if he is receptive or contributive yet.”

“You know they say you can influence how it goes,” Crosscut said. Yes. Prowl knew. They said if you filled a juvenile’s gestation tank with enough transfluids their spark would become receptive after their adult upgrades.

“I will kill you,” Prowl promised.

“If you want Bluestreak back safe and sound, you are going to get into line, Prowl,” Crosscut said. “Go on. Maybe the Strikers would prefer a proven receptive to a novice.”

Prowl stormed from Crosscut’s office. Crosscut had his back against the wall, but Prowl only needed some time. He needed to secure his youngling and then he needed to find his sparkling. When he had them secured he would reclaim the Core. Prowl would reclaim Praxus. His spark was in his fuel tank when he got to the lounge. As much as he wanted to burst in, rifle firing, he could not put Smokescreen in the line of fire. He smoothed his expression and stepped through the door.

“Mm now this is a treat,” the pale-faced green Seeker purred. Prowl did not scream, though he saw Smokescreen writhing in his grasp. He did not scream, but walked towards them. “The Senator’s own breeder.”

“Gentlemechs,” Prowl said, letting none of his hate into his field or his voice. “Perhaps you would like some engex?”

“Does the Senator have anything good?” The Seeker asked. He released Smokescreen and Prowl made a silent prayer of thanks. His creation stumbled and around the couch.

“His collection is considered one of the best, Cybertron wide,” Prowl replied.

“His best engex then,” the Seeker, clearly the commander of this Trine, ordered.

“Smokescreen?” Prowl said. “Fetch a bottle of the Platinum Label Sapphire Engex. The vintage, Gentlemechs, is twenty thousand vorns old.”

“Very nice,” the green mech purred.

“Are you sure?” His subordinate asked. This mech was a pale purple, with faceplates as pale as his leader. “Letting the mechling go?”

“I’m sure we can trust him to come back,” the leader said as he caught Prowl by his wrist. It took everything in Prowl not to thrash. “We have his origin here, after all. I’m sure Smokescreen doesn’t want anything bad to happen to him, do you? Mechling?”

“No, Sir,” Smokescreen said, with a hiss of temper. His doorwings twitched rudely. The Seekers laughed.

"Then be quick,” the leader laughed as Smokescreen ran out the door. He smirked at Prowl. It was the only warning Prowl had before he was tossed onto the couch. He tried to right himself but the leader was over him. His claws sank into the plating of Prowl’s thighs as he forced his legs open. “His best engex and his best whore. This is going turning into a good mega-cycle for us, Brothers.”

“He deserved to die,” Prowl said, staring into the distance. “If anyone deserved to die in Praxus, it was him.”

“Come wit me, Prowl,” Jazz said as he stood.

“Where?” Prowl asked, having forgotten for a moment who he was talking to and why he was talking to him.

“Home, obviously,” Jazz replied. Prowl stared up at him.

“You are just going to take me at my glyph?” Prowl asked.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“No one else has. Crosscut was well liked with his counterparts Cybertron-wide. He one the Novus Peace Accord.”

“Those same mechanisms are ignorin’ the fact Vos botnapped thousands of mechanisms, right?”

“Yes?”

“Yeah, I don’t think ‘m gonna put much stock in their opinions,” Jazz snorted. Prowl could not stop staring at the mech. “What brought ya to Simfur, Prowl.”

“Master Yoketron.”

“Ya knew the Master.”

“I trained under him briefly, in the same class as Lockdown, when my procreators were stationed in Simfur. I was unaware he had been killed.”

“When ya came to the dojo, ya’d just landed.”

“Yes.”

“That sucks slag,” Jazz declared. “Ya know I woulda given ya a place to recharge if ya’d told me ya knew Master Yoketron.”

“I was. I am a stranger.”

“Master Yoketron never turned away a stranger. I wouldn’t be doin’m any honour if I forgot his generosity. Come on. Let’s go home. I gotta introduce ya to my procreators... Frag yer just platin’ ‘n struts, ain’t ya. I thought Smokey was a lil thin, but y’re wastin’. Genitor’s gonna take one look at ya ‘n make it his mission to fuel ya up.”

[oikawasass]

I’m in the mood for some really sad angst so take this.

final goodbyes.

‣ pairing : bakugo x fem reader.

‣ oneshot.

‣ synopsis : after a messy and unexpected fight during a training mission, katsuki finds himself forced to say one last goodbye.

‣ wordcount : 2.3k+

‣ warnings : pure angst, swearing, character death, minor gore.

It was supposed to be an easy mission on that cold winter day, one that was simply for training purposes so the students would be able to begin learning what to do in tough situations from experience, rather than a lecture. A quick sweep of a few thugs in the area assigned to the pair and approved by Aizawa himself. 

The two were confident in the mission given to them, knowing that with their combined strengths It would be a breeze, taking them a few minutes tops. Neither Y/n nor Bakugo had expected things to take such a turn the way they did. The simple thugs they were sent to deal with had brought much more of a punch than either of them had expected. A simple battle with a couple of wannabe villain lowlifes, ( in Katsuki’s words, ) had turned into a 2 vs 16, one of those sixteen people being an extremely dangerous and wanted villain in the area who was called “Pressure.” Despite the rather incredible amount of power the teens had combined, the odds weren’t in their favour from the start.

They were outnumbered, and the sheer strength of not only one of the most wanted criminals in the city, but all of his goons backing him up, it was too much for Bakugo and his girlfriend to handle alone as much as they both hated to admit. The two heroes in training held their ground as best as they could, hoping to buy themselves enough time to call for help, or some sort of backup. Even Katsuki knew that their chances of making it out of there on their own weren’t very high at all. 

It was when Pressure had set off an ear ringing, blinding explosion that things really took a turn for the worst. Y/n and Bakugo had been violently thrown away from each other due to the amount force the blast had administered. The last thing they saw before their vision went white, was the couple’s red and scarred hands desperately reaching out for each other. But they were too late. The villains had fleed before the explosion went off, leaving the couple to presumably die. 

Bakugo’s eyes slowly blinked open, a light fog of dust and rubble from the debris of the explosion clouding his vision. His body tried so desperately to pull him back into the sweet lull of sleep as the pain of his injuries and aching body slowly spread throughout his limbs and joints, but the blonde refused to lose consciousness another time. His injuries were nothing severe or fatal, so there was no excuse for him to stay down any longer. How was he supposed to become number one if he allowed a simple blast to knock him down, after all?

With a sharp inhale and a loud groan, Katsuki pushed himself up off the shredded concrete and into a sitting position, allowing himself to come to his senses a bit more before he forced himself to his feet. The boy leaned back on one of his palms, catching his breath for a moment before a single thought overtook his mind, sending him into a panic.

“Y/n.”


He shot up to his feet, not caring to try and balance himself before frantically running to all the large piles of rubble that littered the snow-covered ground around him. He was throwing metal scraps, large rocks, tree branches, anything and everything in his way while he searched for her.

“Y/N!! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!” Bakugo shouted, in hopes of hearing some kind of response from her in the distance. His heartbeat only grew quicker, hearing the fast pulsating ring through his ears as his panic grew. His determination and will to stay calm in situations like these were long out the window by now. All he cared about was finding his girlfriend.

“Y/N!!” Another heart-wrenching scream of her name left Bakugo’s dry throat. She had to be here somewhere, it's not like she just went and vanished into thin air. 


Bakugo rose his forearm to his forehead, shielding his eyes from the blinding light the setting sun was reflecting off the snow in hopes he would be able to see more clearly. That was when he spotted a shadowed human figure lying dead centre in all the rubble surrounding them, there she was.

He bolted over to the frail-looking girl as quick as his legs would carry him, crashing down onto his knees beside her. She looked absolutely horrible, Bakugo felt himself cringe at the sight of her blood-covered face. She had large scratches covering each of her limbs, as well as a small bump that seemed to be poking out of the inside of her chest, showing she had definitely broken a few ribs. And to top everything off, there was a large metal rod piercing through the lower right of her abdomen, and it was in deep.

“Dumbass, you look like shit.” Bakugo said to her, supporting her head with one hand while using his other to mess around with the small intercom jammed in his ear, attempting to get some kind of reception so he would be able to call for help.

Y/n slowly lifted her gaze to look up at him, a pained chuckle falling from her bloodied lips. “J-just. . cause I-I can't move d-doesn’t mean I w. . won't kick y-your ass f-for that.” She choked out through her raw throat. Bakugo tsked quietly and shook his head, amazed at how she was able to crack a joke despite being so wounded.


“Like you could ever kick my ass anyway, shitty girl. Now stop talking, save your breath.” Bakugo continued to mess with his earpiece, finally hearing some static and the voice of his teacher on the other side.


“Ground zero reporting in, (hero name) severely injured. We need help.” His tone was panicked while his words were rushed out of his mouth. The blonde was willing to waste no time in having help arrive, not with his girlfriend's current state of suffering and deformation. 


“Yeah- I'm at location 23AZ, just hurry up and fucking find me, we don't have time to sit here waiting.” Once Aizawa disconnected, he returned his full attention back to the girl who was practically withering away beneath him.


Taking a strong grip on the sleeve of his costume, he tore off the fabric, ripping it into something similar of a cloth to push against her stomach wound, a desperate attempt to stop the crimson blood spilling out of it. A small cry of pain escaped Y/n’s throat at the pressure to the gash, and Katsuki felt himself flinch at the sound. It pained his ears to hear such an anguished sound come from the h/c haired girl he called his, but her bleeding out was absolutely not an option, he wouldn’t allow it. Not now, not ever. It appears the amount of stress Bakugo was under was evident on his face, his furrowed brows and bottom lip caught between his teeth not able to slip past the observant gaze of Y/n.

“W-worried. . .isnt a g-good look o-n you. . .” She smiled sadly, weakly reaching up an unstable and jittery hand to softly cup his right cheek, using her thumb to try and pull the edge of his mouth into a small smile. Y/n knew her time was running short, and she wanted to see him smile in her final moments, not upset. Though she knew her reaction would be the same, if not worse if their roles were switched, so she understood his concerns.


“What the hell else am I supposed to do, idiot? You’re-You-re bleeding out in front of me goddammit.” Bakugo’s words caught in his throat, a small crack in his voice accompanying the evergrowing agony and worry he felt in the pit of his stomach.

“I-its ok-okay, Katsu. . .It hardly. . .e-even hurts anymore.” She was slipping away quickly, her dazed and tired state of mind disabled her from feeling as much pain as she was actually in. It wasn’t good, she would lose consciousness soon, and that couldn’t happen. Bakugo could see her eyelids struggling to stay open, fluttering open and shut every so often as she tried to stay awake.


Bakugo felt his heart sting in pure fear. Katsuki Bakugo never got scared. He was always confident in his ways and knew that losing would never be an option for him. But right now, he was completely and utterly terrified. He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t. “Hey, keep your eyes on me, okay? You-You’ve gotta stay awake princess.” That was a pet name she always loved so much. He felt himself leaning into her touch against his ash-covered cheek. The frigid, bitter winter air and lack of blood flowing through her system caused her to be cold to the touch, her normally warm, comforting hands were practically frozen.

“I kn-know. . .but. . .s-so. .tired. . .” Y/n’s lids fell halfway shut, failing to flutter back open like they had been before.

“No. No, you need to keep your f-fucking eyes open, you hear me? Don’t go to sleep. Just-Just a little longer okay?” Bakugo was surprised at his own stuttering and cracks in his voice, but he was even more surprised to feel a drop of blood trickle down his chin. When he raised his hand to wipe it away, he saw no colour on the skin of his hand. It was a clear, shiny liquid.


Bakugo was crying.

Y/n weakly moved her thumb to wipe away another drop that fell from his tear duct. “d-don’t. . please don't cr-cry. . “ her voice was nothing above a whisper now, the little bit of strength she had left to speak leaving her body. “I-I lo. . love you, ‘kay?” she felt a tear roll down her own cheek. “I love y-you so m. . uch.” She was being forced to say goodbye to someone she knew was her first and only love. Her heart was breaking during the exchange. Katsuki and her had planned to spend so many more years together, make so many more sweet and beautiful memories with each other, cross so many more milestones and hurdles life would throw at them, all while they were one. 

Now the harsh reality was, they would never get to experience those years, memories, nor milestones together.

This was their final goodbye.

“I love you more, stop talking like that.” Katsuki’s jaw was clenched tightly shut, his words slipping out of his mouth through gritted teeth. “You’re not gonna fucking die here, goddammit! You can’t fucking leave me behind!” 


Katsuki’s choice of words was important. Y/n was the only one besides Kirishima he allowed to get close to him, it was true. But Y/n was the one who Bakugo was truly able to open up to, without fear of seeming weak or being judged. She was the only one he allowed to really see his true feelings and emotions every moment of every day, even at his weakest points. She was helping him to grow into the great hero he strived to become, she couldn’t leave him. 

“I-I need you, you idiot! How am I supposed to be satisfied with being number one if you aren’t there being a close number two?! You’re supposed to do this with me!” Bakugo was shouting now, trying to get through to her weakening body as he felt her slowly fade away in his arms.


“I-I I know. . you can do-do it. . without me. . .” her eyes fell closed a final time, the hand she held up against his cheek slowly sliding down his skin as her body went limp. Katsuki quickly removed his hand from her abdomen to hold her it up and keep it from falling. No. She couldn’t die here, not like this, not when she deserved to live such an amazing and fulfilled life as a pro hero, not when he had never taken every moment he got to express just how much he did care about her, not when he couldn’t apologize for things like all the fights he’s caused in the past. 

All the lighthearted bickering they shared, all the secret sleepovers they had in Bakugo’s dorm, Y/n hiding from Aizawa in Katsuki’s closet when he had shown up unexpectedly, the sweet words of encouragement she would speak to him ever so softly when he was feeling low, he wasn’t ready for that to end. Katsuki would never be ready for that to end.


“Y/n. . .” Katsuki’s strained voice choked out, waiting for a response. He didn’t receive one.


“Y/n. Answer me.” He spoke more stern this time with a shake to her body, hoping this was some sick joke and a serious tone of voice would force her into an answer.


It didn’t work.

Katsuki’s body fell on top of her, head resting atop her chest as he felt like he was about to be sick to his stomach. There was a sharp, yet empty feeling in his gut, it felt like someone had just stabbed him.

No more calls of her name left his lips, no more shaking her body while trying to wake her up, it all stopped. Now he was left alone, shattered into what he felt was a million pieces. She was gone. And here he was, laying on top of the near mangled body of his first love, still holding her cold and limp hand to his cheek while he felt something build up and sting deep in his throat.

As his hearing went fuzzy, and all he could hear was his own racing heartbeat in his ears, Katsuki screamed.

Katsuki screamed out of the sheer ache and torment his body felt as she lay lifeless in his arms.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 9: Follow The Rules]

Hi y’all, I hope you are all doing well 💜

Chapter summary: Veronica has some questions, Roger has a plan, John has a short temper. 

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language, medical stuff, pregnancy.

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii​ @loveandbeloved29​ @killer-queen-xo​ @maggieroseevans​ @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @queenlover05​ @someforeigntragedy​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​ @joemazzmatazz​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye​ @namelesslosers​ @inthegardensofourminds​ @deacyblues​ @youngpastafanmug​ @sleepretreat​ @hardyshoe​ @bramblesforbreakfast​ @sevenseasofcats​ @tensecondvacation​ @bookandband​ @queen-crue​ @jennyggggrrr​ @madeinheavxn​ @whatgoeson-itslate​ @brianssixpence​ @simonedk​ @herewegoagainniall​ @stardust-killer-queen​

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! :)

At the wedding, Roger is wearing a cast on his right arm and a dazzling smile...and a white suit that he looks criminally good in.

John is in black, Brian in blue, Freddie in maroon-colored velvet and heavy eyeliner. Veronica’s dress is high-waisted and falls in huge, billowing, shapeless ruffles to hide her silhouette. Her family knows, of course—it’s written all over the tense, grim lines of their mouths and the blades their pale eyes hurl at John—but none of those strict Catholics are going to mention an out-of-wedlock pregnancy in God’s house, nor at the modest reception in the church basement that follows the ceremony.

Veronica’s mother and aunts and sisters are just like her, docile and milky-skinned and small-boned, and you’ve helped them deck the vast room with enough flowers, ribbons, candles, and balloons to make everyone forget this event was thrown together in five weeks and on a shoestring budget. There’s a simple buffet with pot roast and potatoes and vegetables, a live band (some of John’s old friends from high school), and a homemade Polish honey cake baked by Veronica’s grandmother situated regally on a china serving dish. Veronica and John cycle through the tables of guests, smiling and nodding and thanking them for coming, dutifully and yet also seemingly genuinely cheerful.

“The boning is bloody impaling me,” Chrissie murmurs as she tugs at the bodice of her gown. It’s satin and a muted pink, just like yours and Mary’s and Veronica’s sisters’. “If I happen die, wrap me in one of those nice tablecloths I paid for and throw me in a ditch somewhere, will you love?”

“You got it.” You stab a piece of potato with your fork. “This should inspire you to be especially compassionate towards your own bridesmaids! Maybe no horrid shiny green.”

Brian chuckles. “Good luck with that.”

“Are you comfortable?!” Chrissie asks Mary, exasperated, fanning herself with a wedding program.

“I am,” Mary admits cautiously. “But...well...at the moment, I think my dress is a bit...roomier.”

Chrissie moans, dropping her face into her hands. “I always gain when the students go home for summer. My routine is wrecked, all I want to do is read Glamour magazines and listen to records, it’s too damn hot to go walking...and I adore ice cream.”

“I like you just fine,” Brian reassures her.

Freddie snickers as he taps his cigarette against an ashtray. “Yes, we’re all well aware of your anatomical preferences, Bri.”

Chrissie rolls her eyes. “Please do not elaborate.” She’s not offended—she’s far too used to Freddie’s shenanigans to be offended—but she’ll be embarrassed if he makes a scene at a wedding.

“Darling, I don’t care what anyone tries to tell you, plenty of men love a little extra meat on the bones. Particularly the ass bones.”

“We’re in God’s house!” you scold him in a hiss. “You’re going to give Great Aunt Zofia over there an aneurysm if she hears you!”

Roger quips: “Great Aunt Zofia stole the last kielbasa right out of my disabled, ineffectual  grasp, so fuck her.”

You all burst into shocked, uncontrollable laughter. Great Aunt Zofia squints judgmentally at the commotion from several tables away, gnawing on her kielbasa; she’s been glaring at John and Veronica—the Tetzlaffs’ very own fallen angel—since she first ambled into the church. Roger rocks back in his chair, smoking with his unbroken left arm, smirking cockily and basking in the distraction from the real world that the wedding has gifted you all tonight. He catches you watching him—marveling at him, truthfully—and winks.

John appears and rests his hands on the back of your chair. “What’s so amusing? I swear, I leave you people alone for two hours and you’re having all sorts of fun without me, I won’t stand for it!”

“It was a lovely ceremony,” you tell him. “I’d forgotten how beautiful Catholic weddings are, all the music and ambiance.”

“And from what I saw, you knew most of the words.”

“We have a lot of Irish people in Boston. Saint Patrick’s Day is bigger than Christmas.”

John points at Roger’s cast. “It’s not paining you too much, is it?”

Roger holds his Dark ‘n Stormy aloft, and ice clinks in the misted glass. “Enough of these, and I can’t feel anything. Numb to the world’s many disappointments. I highly recommend it.”

“Noted,” John replies. Roger has pills for his arm, but they only take the edge off. You don’t know that because he’s told you; Roger never tells you that he’s hurting, that he’s frustrated, that he’s afraid. He wears grins and flippant humor like a second skin, shrouding his wounds—both physical and disembodied, old and new—in darkness. Still...you can see all those words he doesn’t say swimming in the depths of his eyes. “I think I’ll hunt down a Manhattan myself.”

“Dad made an impression!” you tell John enthusiastically. “I’ll have to let him know, he’ll be overjoyed.”

“He mixes a good one, that’s for sure. I doubt Cousin Bartosz will be able to compare.” He casts a glance at a perplexed-looking, flame-haired teenager manning a tiny wet bar.

“Booze won’t help you heal,” Freddie informs Roger, checking his reflection in Mary’s makeup compact and fluffing his lustrous hair. “Eat your vegetables. Get more sleep. When do you start physical therapy, again?” Then, to you: “Darling, when does Roger start his therapy?”

Roger sighs. “I’ve got it handled, Fred.”

“Dear, don’t have a fit, I just want to make sure you’ll be ready—”

“I’ve got it handled,” Roger repeats, his tone a warning.

Brian breaks the tension with a toast, his Vesper jangling against Roger’s Dark ‘n Stormy. “I’m thrilled, honestly. Now I’m not the only one who’s ruined a tour.”

Roger grimaces. “Thanks, Bri.”

“Yes, let’s all have a turn,” Freddie mutters, sipping champagne. “Deaky can electrocute himself while fiddling with his amp, and then I’ll...what? Have my foot chewed off by an alligator in New Orleans? Get gored by a wild boar outside Atlanta? It just can’t be a boring maiming, that’s my only request.”

“Alaska has grizzlies, huge ones,” Brian suggests.

“Darling, in what dimension would my luxurious self ever end up in fucking Alaska?”

You shake your head, frowning down into your wine glass. It’s June now, the dead center of a crestfallen year: the rest of the Sheer Heart Attack Tour is cancelled, the record company is furious, and the band is broker than ever. Queen is supposed to start recording their next album—their last album, the record company insists, unless it happens to be a runaway success—in July, but you don’t know if Roger’s arm will be healed in time. None of you know that. You wonder if this really is God’s house, or at least one of his homes, sanctified piles of bricks and glass scattered across the globe; maybe you could ask Him where Queen’s future lies.

Veronica swoops in and dusts an airy kiss onto Mary’s cheek, and then Chrissie’s, and then yours. “Thank you so much,” she gushes. Her high cheekbones are flushed, her watery eyes sparkling. She’s in heaven, sinner or not. Her massive white dress swishes with every step. “We couldn’t have done it without you. And you’re next, Chris! I can’t wait.”

Chrissie smiles. She and Brian are getting married just before Christmas. “Yes, well, time will tell if we’ll be serving Christmas ham or canned beans.”

“And then Mary...” Veronica’s gaze migrates across the table. Mary’s been wearing a ring on her wedding finger since Queen returned from Japan, a simple gold band that once belonged to Freddie’s mother. “What about you, Y/N? Any plans? Then we’d all be hitched!”

Red wine spurts from your lips and you fumble for a cloth napkin. Roger doesn’t believe in marriage, and neither do you; not after only four months together, anyway. And yet...is there some part of you that can’t help but think of papers and rings when you get lost in his eyes, of promises of forever, of some way to tie yourself to him like vessels to a heart? Sure; and that’s a little wonderful, that’s a little terrifying. “Uh, uh, oh, oh no, definitely no plans whatsoever.”

“What bollocks!” Rog sneers. “Really, what’s the point if you’re not religious? Who needs a bloody piece of paper to prove they love someone?! ‘I care for you so much I need the government to know we’re together and the hassle of divorce fees to make me stay,’ what the fuck. I mean, uh, no offense John, Bri, uh...this is all well and good for you, but...ah...”

“It’s just not your scene. That’s fine, Rog,” Freddie says with a tad too much empathy. Mary doesn’t seem to notice.

“But you’ll want children at some point, won’t you?” Veronica asks you, almost pained. She’s not trying to be cruel, you realize; she genuinely can’t fathom the pinnacle of a woman’s life as anything but being a wife and mother.

“Theoretically, sure. One day. Eventually.” You titter nervously. Roger’s good arm circles your shoulders, his cigarette lofting smoke. Oh, but wouldn’t he make beautiful children? You push that thought away. It’s too soon, it’s too much, it’s not in the cards for an impoverished maybe-drummer and his girlfriend; and a girlfriend—with all the intangibility and impermanence that title entails—is all I’ll ever be. “I think I need to travel the world a bit more first.”

John sighs and pats the back of Veronica’s hand. What is that weight in his voice...impatience? Annoyance? “Ronnie, please, don’t bother her.”

Veronica sulks, scraping the old scuffed linoleum floor with her pointy white heels. “I wasn’t trying to bother anyone...”

Mary comes to the rescue: “No, of course not. You didn’t, dear.” She likes Veronica more than Chrissie does. Isn’t she oppressively vapid? Chrissie has asked you more than once. Isn’t she so miserably naïve? Veronica is sweet, sure, but she has no fucking idea what she’s in for. “Babies are wonderful, but they do make things harder, don’t you think? Especially for the mother. You have to be ready to drop everything for them. All your other interests and aspirations.”

“I suppose,” Veronica mumbles. You can tell she’s thinking: What other aspirations?

“But you must be so excited!” You beam up at Veronica. It’s her wedding day, and John’s; it should be happy, it should be optimistic. And you’re learning to like Veronica—less than Mary, but more than Chris—because you know that’s the best thing for John.

She instinctively rests her hand on the swell of her belly; or, rather, where it must be somewhere beneath all those heaps of satin and tulle. Great Aunt Zofia’s glare intensifies. “I’m scared to death, to tell you the truth.”

“Why?!” Mary cries.

“I’m so afraid something will happen to him.” Veronica’s voice is soft, her blue eyes glassy. She’s certain the baby is a boy, claims she had some sort of dream about it. “There’s a lot of bad luck going around for us, isn’t there? And my mother lost four babies. Any time he stops moving, I worry constantly until my next appointment. I haven’t felt anything in days, and I just...I just...” She trails off, staring vacantly across the crowded church basement. She’s trying not to cry, you realize.

“I can try to check for you,” you offer. “If it would make you feel better.”

“Really?” Veronica sounds hopeful, but guardedly so.  

“This is embarrassing, but I carry my nurse kit almost everywhere I go now. That’s why I brought my huge blue purse even though it doesn’t match the dress. You know, you can’t be too careful...”

“Yes, who knows when someone will try something idiotic like jogging backwards down the stairs?” Freddie muses. Roger lobs a pierogi at him. Great Aunt Zofia wheezes out a disgusted huff and crosses her veiny, wrinkled arms over her sagging chest.

“I have a stethoscope,” you continue. “I can’t guarantee I’ll find a heartbeat, but I’ll give it a try if that would help.”

“Would you, Y/N?” Veronica clutches for John’s hand, and he lets her take it without any resistance; but he doesn’t seem to know how to comfort her. He has the same dazed look on his face that he has a lot these days, the same look that Bri and Freddie sometimes get: like they’re on autopilot, like they’re actively filtering through brainwaves to fish out any that wander astray. Roger lands a kiss on your bare shoulder and pitches you a playful smirk, his I’m so proud of my too-fucking-smart girlfriend smirk.  

You grab your purse from beneath the table. “Does God’s house have a cozy private spot somewhere?”

Veronica leads you, Mary, and Chrissie to a small unoccupied room that is used (how pertinently) as the church nursery. The pink wallpaper is dotted with waddling ducklings, cloud-shaped sheep leaping over fences, smiling suns and winged cartoonish angels. Veronica settles into a faded blue couch, and Mary and Chris help her shove aside the massive plumes of her wedding dress to reveal the plain shift she’s wearing underneath. She’s over five months along now, and her entirely unremarkable bump seems colossal on her delicate frame.

You pop the headset into your ears and press the chestpiece against Veronica’s unyielding belly, gliding it over the pearly shift as you try different positions.

“Anything?” Mary asks anxiously.

“It’s not bloody instant, Mary!” Chrissie snaps. “Be quiet so she can listen.”

“No need to be cranky—”

“You can’t find a heartbeat, can you?” Veronica says, her voice quivering. “Oh god...”

“Found it,” you announce. You hold the chestpiece in place as you yank the headset off and pass it to Veronica.

She gapes at you. “You’re just saying that so I’ll stop worrying, aren’t you?”

“Hear for yourself.”

Veronica takes the headset and listens, closing her eyes as the rapid-fire and rhythmic swishing of her child’s heartbeat floods through her ears. “Oh,” she breathes, beaming. “There he is.”

“That’s incredible!” Mary trills. “Can I hear too, Veronica? Whenever you’re finished...”

Mary listens, and Chrissie does too, and then you all help touch up Veronica’s hair and makeup before you head back to the reception. The cake is due to be cut in twelve minutes. As you smooth the short train on her dress, Veronica turns back to you.

“Do you think I’m a bad person?” she asks timidly, hugging her belly. “You know...for this.”

“That’s something I’ve always liked about nursing. So many jobs require sorting out who’s right and wrong, casting judgment, assigning punishment. There’s no weighing of the moral scales in medicine. It doesn’t matter if a patient is trustworthy, deceitful, good, bad, worthy, undeserving, if they disappoint you, if they’re the ones who hurt themselves. You treat everyone, you heal everyone. And I would like to keep that part of myself for as long as I can.” You smile at Veronica. “But, for the record, no. I don’t think you’re a bad person at all.”

She sighs in relief, untethering an anchor she hadn’t even known she’d been dragging around by her throat. “Thank you,” she whispers, tears snaking down her powdered ivory cheeks.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Come on.”

“How do you feel about marble lion statues? You know, the ones at the end of long, winding driveways. Rich people’s driveways. Mansion driveways. Or do you prefer gargoyles?”

“Roger.”

He groans, grins, presses his right fist into your palm. You measure the force with your mind, with your muscle memory. He’s stronger than he was yesterday, the day before, last week. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Rog teases. “You’ve got a soft spot for damaged people. Helpless people. That’s why you warmed to Brian so quickly. He was lying there all gaunt and jaundiced and terrified, and you just couldn’t resist, you just had to make sure all his wildest dreams came true.”

“I have a soft spot for self-destructive musicians who end up in hospitals, evidently.” Your gaze cruises over the scar on Roger’s forearm where the surgeons popped his bones back into place, stabilized them, stitched the ragged gore closed. You hate looking at it; you hate reminders of how mortal Roger really is.

“I want lions,” Rog decides. “For the driveway of our eventual mansion. I like the Leo connection.”

“And the Queen crest connection.”

His grin widens, toothy and radiant. “See, I knew you were the love of my life.”

“Come on. Again.”

He winces this time. “Doesn’t hurt a bit.”

“Uh huh. I bet.” You’ve slathered his fresh blisters with numbing antiseptic ointment, iced his arm, administered pain medicine, allowed him the constant sips of alcohol necessary for him to work, to drum, to sleep. But he still hurts. You imagine he hurts all the fucking time.

It’s August now, and Queen is recording their fourth album at Rockfield Farm. You and Roger are sitting by the pool as Freddie splashes around in the clear chlorine-smelling water trying to get John’s attention. John, meanwhile, is lounging on an inflatable raft, wearing black sunglasses and most likely asleep. Brian circles the pool snapping photos with your Canon F-1.

“I have a plan,” Roger informs you as he starts his stretches without prompting. He knows the drill, even if he likes to be difficult about it.

“By all means, enlighten me.”

“Fred’s thing, the weird one. It has a name now.”

“Does it?”

“Yeah. Bohemian Rhapsody.”

“Oh, it’s perfect!” You try to stay out of the band’s business decisions as much as possible; it’s not your expertise, and it’s not your place, and there are already a few too many creative chefs in that kitchen. Still, you love when they share their magic with you. “Eccentric, whimsical, exhilarating. Just like the song. Just like Queen.”

“I’m so glad you approve. We’re going to make sure it’s the first single off the album. And I know exactly what song’s going to be on the B-side. Freddie and Bri don’t know yet, but I do.”

“Sounds like they’re going to murder you when they find out.”

“I’ll convince them.” His grin is crafty, daring. “Picture it: you’ve just finished the incomparable experience that is Bohemian Rhapsody. You’re a newly converted Queen enthusiast. What could possibly come next? You flip the record over. And the virile, screeching, pure rock and roll passion of I’m In Love With My Car is there to greet you.”

“Oh my god, Roger.” You shake your head in mock mourning. “They actually are going to murder you.”

“Listen, love, BoRhap is going to be a hit. I can feel it.”

“Sure,” you agree lukewarmly. You want to be supportive, you really do. But disappointment stings more than resignation.

“It will be,” Roger maintains, unmovable. “And it’ll sell mountains and mountains of singles...and with my song on the B-side, I’ll get half the royalties. Which means we’ll get half the royalties.”

“Which is how we end up with the hypothetical mansion.”

“I’m being serious.” Roger picks up his mini barbell weights from the water-splattered concrete and begins his bicep curls, flinching each time he lifts his right fist.

“Rog—”

“I’m fine,” he insists. “I’m going to make this happen. I’m going to get rich so I can provide for my family. You know about that, you know it’s on my list. And my family includes you now.”

“I don’t need a mansion, Roger.” I just need you. You stare at his right arm worriedly. “Are you sure—?”

“I’m fine!” he shouts, and you recoil. Brian peers over from where he’s taking pictures of blooming purple foxgloves. Instantly, Roger regrets it. “I’m sorry,” he says, setting down the barbells and cradling your face with his rough, bandaged hands. “I have to be fine, you know? I don’t have a choice. If I can’t play, I can’t be in the band. If I leave, John will leave too, and that’ll be the end of everything. Or worse, John will break the pact and stay and they’ll find a new drummer and forget all about me. Sail off into some blissful new future. And where will I be? Moping as I drag myself back to dental school? Becoming a freaking lab biologist? Resigning myself to being some excruciatingly ordinary bloke, someone who climbed just far enough out of Cornwall to know everything he’s missing out on?”

You try to imagine who Roger would be without the band, but you can’t. You’ve never known a pre-Queen Roger. “No,” you say, amused. “You’ll never be just some ordinary bloke. You’re too brilliant, too determined. Even if you do have a dodgy arm.”

He kisses you, and you can feel his lips curling into a smile beneath yours. “So you’ll let me buy you a mansion.”

“If you get I’m In Love With My Car on the B-side, and BoRhap is a hit, and Freddie and Bri don’t smother you with a pillow in your sleep...yes, you can buy me a mansion. Buy us a mansion.”

He winks, his sapphire eyes glinting in the late-summer sunlight. “Watch out, baby. I get everything I want eventually.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“It’s done,” John tells the others as he passes out copies of his new song, the second he’s ever written. There are only four sheets of crisp white paper; as you watch from the studio couch, you wonder what the song is about, why he didn’t mention it to you.

“It’s done?!” Brian yelps. “What do you mean, it’s done?! Nothing’s ever done after the first pass! That’s how it works, that’s how it always works, someone suggests something and then we all dice it and slice it and flip it around and stitch it back together like the world’s most maniacal surgeons, and then, only then, maybe, it’s done.”

You glance up from where you’re sewing an eleventh patch onto Roger’s jeans. “Must we disparage the medical profession?”

“Sorry, love,” Roger tosses to you with a laugh.                          

“It’s done,” John repeats.

“Deaky, darling,” Freddie ventures gently. “We should endeavor to keep our minds open to collaboration—”

“Oh, should we, Fred?!” Bri exclaims. “How extraordinary, you never seem to encourage collaboration when it’s your song on the cutting floor!”

“Okay space boy, you listen here—”

“‘I’m happy at home’?!” Roger reads, revolted. “We’re not the bloody Bee Gees, Deaks!”

John explains measuredly and patiently, as if to a child: “That’s the way it goes. We record it as it is or not at all.”

“That’s not how we do things,” Brian mutters, deep frown lines chiseled through his face as he scans the lyrics.

“Then just fill the album with your and Fred’s songs like you always do, I’m sure that’ll keep me and Roger loyal.”

Brian glares at John. John stares back stoically, his eyes like steel. Brian looks to Roger for support; Roger lights a cigarette and pretends not to notice.

“Darling, please, you’re not being reasonable!” Freddie pleads.

“I need it.” John turns to Roger now. “I need it to stay the way it is.”

Rog just watches him for a while, exhales smoke, shrugs. “Okay,” he says at last.

“Okay?!” Brian howls. “What do you mean, okay?!”

“He said he needs it,” Roger replies simply.

Bri throws his hands into the air. “Bleeding christ! ‘He needs it.’ What rubbish! Do something, Fred!”

“Oh relax, darling.” Freddie sashays to the microphone and points to Brian’s Red Special. “Let’s try it out.”

“But—!”

Roger claps Brian on the back as he trots by him towards the drum kit. “Come on, Bri. Big smiles. Just picture the nice shiny pounds from all those album sales plinking into your bank account. You’ll have fifty Christmas hams at the wedding, one for every guest.”

You listen passively from the couch as they rehearse, trying not to let on that you’re paying attention, trying not to overstep. But you can’t help being struck by the lyrics, feeling the somberness of Freddie’s voice and John’s tentative notes on the electric piano slink into your bones; because it sounds so familiar, because it echoes so many things that John has told you.

When Queen takes a mid-afternoon break and John slips into the kitchen for a Coke, you follow him.

“Hey John?”

“Yeah.” He rests his hands on the dining room table. They’re sturdy and unmarred and completely unlike Roger’s; and you aren’t sure why you notice this, but you do.

“I completely understand if I’m being intrusive, and if I am please just tell me to shut up and I will.”

He chuckles. “You’re never intrusive. Go ahead.”

“I was just wondering...who is You’re My Best Friend about?”

Now his smile evaporates. “No one in particular,” he says briskly. “It’s just a song. Just something to put on the album. Maybe a single one day. A soulless royalties grab.”

That seems unlikely. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He takes a swig of Coke, peers down at the table, traces swirls of centuries-old oak with his fingertips.

“It’s just...you know...well...it kind of sounded like...maybe it was about me.”

He looks up. And for the first time, John levels some of his infamous, razored words at you: “Don’t be such a fucking narcissist.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Two days later, John doesn’t apologize. But he smiles at you over tea, offers to clean off the fingerprints of strawberry jelly that Roger left on the Canon, splashes you from the pool as you sunbathe beneath lapis August skies. And you agree, wordlessly and unconditionally, to forgive him. Because John is your best friend, whether or not you’re still his.

Nine weeks later, Bohemian Rhapsody is released as a single. (And, as promised, Roger ensures that I’m In Love With My Car is on the B-side.)

Twelve weeks later, Bohemian Rhapsody reaches the #1 spot on the UK Singles Chart, and remains there for over two months.

Fifteen weeks later, A Night At The Opera becomes the #1 album in the UK.

Fifteen weeks later, Queen’s future is suddenly crystal clear.

[charg3e]

Siege-o-ween Day 6!

‘She’s an angel’,Yumiko thought the first time she laid eyes on her. Her. Nienke Meijer, the newest engineer that arrived at Rainbow.

Looking back, she should have noticed it a lot sooner. The way Nienke had talked about the existence of God, the likeness of her and Mark when it came to the doings of Him, the arguments she had with the devout Olivier. She talked about it as if she had been there, seen the actions He had taken, the curses and blessings He had thrown upon humanity.

The way she got along with the explorer, Sanaa, explaining the histories and cultures of far off lands despite, on her travel records, never travelling there in the first place. The ways she had looked at the sky in distaste and longing when she first asked Yumiko to join her on the rooftop.

With a tempting smile on her lips as she chose to explain the constellations instead of whatever had haunted her living among them.

The mission that she barely survived and yet, Nienke came out of it injured yet recovered nonetheless. A horrible mission that no human would have survived, discounting Zofia of course, even then one would not have come out of it without career ending injuries.

_________________________________________________________________

The cool suburban winds made Yumiko shiver even in her jacket, as she made her way to the back trench of the building. The sleek building towering over her was darkened, blending in with its surrounding of dim lights and various abandoned family owned businesses. If it weren’t for the intel provided by the one and only Aria de Luca, ‘infiltrator extraordinaire” according to Nienke.

The admiration and relationship between Aria and Nienke made her jealous sometimes, the easygoing way they talked to each other and their ‘secret’ language that Yumiko didn’t understand. It was Latin, as she later heard from Adriano.

Shaking the personal emotions away, Hibana put her gun on low alert and checked the window, jumping in when her partner gave her the all clear to jump in. Her partner, Maxim “Kapkan” Basuda had been holding the small site with his Entry Denial Devices and gave her a gruff, “About time you got here.” as she vaulted in.

No more time for quips however, she had to hot drop to the basement, clear it, and disable the security cameras for the other attacker who would infiltrate the top floor on the north side.

“Dropping in!”

She landed on the cold white tiles, or, at least that was what she expected.

She landed on a pile of skeletons, time to panic as she realised quickly that they were made of plastic. She could tell from the clacking sound of the bones, hollow and not only that, smooth to the touch.

The sound made from her abrupt fall as well as the hissing of the X-kairos quickly bought the attention of the festive terrorists. Dressed as frankenstein (the doctor) was one wearing a gas mask, who seemed to have the highest ranking. With one fell swoop of his hand and a shout of

“Surround her!”

The terrorists, each wearing what seemed to be the reverse bear traps from SAW, sprinted around the SAT operative. All seemed to be in the opposition’s favour, until an impact round was heard from above and they all looked up. Taking this chance, Hibana shot at the doctor, downing him and proceeding to lob a bullet in the others head. Her Type-89 quickly ran out of shots with its measly 21 bullet magazine. As she quick swapped to her Bearing-9, she turned the her final enemy behind, whipping it out and aiming for their chest-

Click

“...kuso”

The moment of painful regret of forgetting to reload her machine pistol was quickly forgotten, as Maxim jumped down and landed a knife on the target’s head. The terrorist stared with rage, but quickly started to panic, his screams were muffled as he pulled out the knife from his, now-missing, eye.

“No, no, nonononono-”

The whirring of a loaded spring was made more evident with each pull, the tick tock sound emanating from the hoodie wearing being getting louder, and like a jack in the box.

The skin on his face opened up, jaw slamming up and snapping grotesquely. The body fell to the floor and the shaking of the body had Maxim shooting it with the SASG-12 to put the poor boy out of his misery.

“What a cruel way to go. Is it not?”

The Doctor rose up behind them, despite wearing a blood soaked shirt and Hibana being very certain that she had hit them on the side of the neck, they seemed perfectly fine.

“That one was a failed experiment if a Russian got to him”

The intonation made Kapkan seeth,

“Do not insult us.”

The bullet from his PMM sidearm barely pierced the skin of the Doctor’s trachea, as they pulled it out of their skin. Their eyes contained mirth and a sense of wonderful curiosity when they turned and raised both their arms in the air,

“If you two are here, that must mean that the third party is upstairs yes? Oh I certainly hope it's Iana, I haven’t seen her in centuries!”

That struck a chord within Yumiko’s heart,

They knew.

“She has escaped from me so many times… the bird should have her wings clipped. No, perhaps I shall remove them entirely, rip them into shreds like I did with her last family. Maybe I’ll go after Iona after. Yes. That is what I shall do.” The Doctor clenched his fists in conviction , turning to look back at them.

“Worry not, my only target is her. Feel free to leave before I clip her wings and we die in a fiery explosion together.”

Maxim was very much done with the Doctor’s talk, but the bullets dealt no damage. Tactical retreat was a term to exist no?

“Hibana, call the operative, we will be leaving”

“But the mission-”

“Live to fight another day, no one lives nearby anyways”

The Doctor laughed.

“Live, live to tell the tale of how you escaped Kaelan. The Hunter of Angels and Doctor of the deranged.”

The duo from the basement left through the tunnel, but when they got out and tried to contact Nienke, the third operative of the mission.

Connection lost.

___________________________________________________________________________

The beeping of the phone was not a good sign, not with Iana still on the top floor of the building with no way to get down. Hibana was worried, Iana was stuck in there, with a psychopathic unkillable creature that was hunting her.

Now that she had time to think to herself, maybe she could sort this out in her head.

‘So, there is a being that is unkillable, hunts angels, puts people in freaking death traps and proclaims themself as a doctor. They’re hunting Iana, or what they know as Iana, as well as an “Iona”. So this means Iana is an angel? In a literal sense? We need to find this “Iona” and put whoever they are in our custody for their protection. What in the world did this turn out to be-”

Before she could complete her train of thought with the profanity, an explosion that sent the smell of smoke through the tunnel into her nostrils knocked her out of it. Kapkan stood beside her, holding up a blue phone that defenders had when detonating C4. The smile under his mask couldn’t be seen, his hands pushing the device back into his coat as he dusted himself off with the other.

The crackling of Hibana’s phone had her pausing in her silent scream at Kapkan, Iana’s slightly panicky voice could be heard through the speakers,

“What was that explosion? Where are you all, I can’t find you on the radar, are you both outside now?”

“Yes, there was someone inside telling us to leave, They’re going after you Iana, get out immediately. There might be explosives planted-”

“This is unfortunate but, I am surrounded with explosives and it appears they have all been armed to detonate in 3 minutes. I suppose this is where we say our goodbyes.”

That was the last thing Yumiko had expected Nienke to say, the word goodbye was not something that she wanted to say, not yet. She had so many questions that were yet to be answered, but only one was truly tickling at the back of her mind.

“Nienke, are you an angel?”

“Because I look like I fell from the heavens? You’ve used that before Yumi, and I don’t think now is the time for pick up lines.”

“I meant, legitimately.”

“I’ve told you yes every time you asked Yumi, you just never took it in a literal sense.”

A blast could be heard from the east wing of the building, the rustling of Iana’s shirt could be heard as she flew up the stairs.

“Sorry Yumi, I’m going to have to cut this one short.”

“Wait-”

The flatline beep of the hung up call sent dread into Yumiko’s heart. Maxim took notice of her heading back down the tunnel and rushed to pull her back.

“Are you crazy? This place is about to explode, calm down. She will hopefully find a way out by herself. You may be shocked but if that clouds your judgement what good are you.”

“Excuse me. I just found out my best friend and love of my life isn’t human and you’re criticizing me for being shocked?!”

“Well yes, I just specified that.”

Kapkan had to carry the thrashing SAT operator over his shoulder as he ran to their emergency transport vehicle, leaving Iana alone on the rooftop to fight.

____________________________________________________________________________

The rooftop was chilly, but Nienke never cared much for temperatures. The Doctor jumped up the hatch she opened for med-vac, a smile plastered in his eyes as he whipped out an engraved knife and pointed it at her.

“Angel Iana, I’m not going to kill you today. I’ll just take what I need and be on my merry way.”

“Oh gee thanks Kaelan, you’re not going to get it that easy.”

“Show me those wings, and I’ll show you my claws. A fair fight is all I ask for.”

Naivety.

A word that could be used to describe Iana at this moment. She kneeled to the ground as her body contorted, bone sprouting from her back as blood pooled around her shoulder blades, the liquid coating her feathers and turning them black.

She was so naive, she had thought she would be given a chance to turn, a chance for fair fight with the hunter.

She was wrong.

____________________________________________________________________________

The knife went in deep, crimson blood spilling over as Nienke fell to the ground, unable to move from the excruciating pain.

“You honestly thought I was going to fight fair. Ha, you never learn.”

The blood they collected with the knife was sucked into a test tube using a mechanism. Kaelan giggled in glee at the sight of it, squealing and jumping around on the roof.

“That was your blood, Angel. I still require your wings for my project.”

The knife shifted as they sliced back down her back, and she fought the pain in a burst of rage. Jumping onto them and ripping the vial out of their hands and kicking them to the side,

“I’ll never allow you to find a way back to heaven, Kaelan.”

The excited giggles from Kaelan ceased, they looked at her with rage and despair.

“I have lost so much because of you. I am stuck here because of YOU.”

Kaelan let out wings of their own, gray and torn apart, yet still able to fly for short distances.

“This is your fault.”

____________________________________________________________________________

The fight was anticlimactic, as there was little to no fight at all. Iana sidestepped when Kaelan threw a punch at her, jumping off the roof and letting her wings spread. She tried maintaining her focus as she aimed for the vehicle, but her eyes and wings were weakened from the bloodloss. Kaelan has chased after her, but as they went to celebrate an early victory, having dug a fire poker into her back, they were struck down with a kick as Iana flew up and dropped down on them.

“Goodbye.”

Nienke could fester no more energy as she glided towards the moving vehicle, barely able to land on top of it as the building exploded in the distance. Hibana and Kapkan had heard the drop, and as Maxim hit the brakes and Yumiko turned around. Nienke pulled out the fire poker through her chest, holding it up in a way one would admire a spear, wings dark yet contrasting the starry night.

“How’s that for a halloween night?”

The smirk fell alongside her body and the jaws of the other two operators as she collapsed onto the back of the truck.

[osleyakomwonkru]

The Octavia Blake Guide to Surviving Lockdown (and What Comes Next)

So it’s been six weeks in isolation. I think? Time has long since become irrelevant. The world is stressed. I’m stressed. Not so much about the coronavirus itself, but everything else surrounding the situation. The isolation. The uncertainty. Society losing its shit. What the world will look like when it is all over, because everything will change whether we want it to or not.

You know, all that fun stuff our favourite characters on The 100 deal with each episode.

Which brings me to this post. What Would Octavia Blake Do?

I mean, she’s got the experience. Sixteen years of isolation in a single room, followed by a year of isolation in another room, then about six months on the ground, followed by six years locked under the ground... she knows better than anyone how to survive these sorts of trying times.

So here we have it - famous Octavia quotes and how to apply them to our current situation. Mostly serious, part irreverent, all of it a homage to the fact that stories matter and can help us figure out how to deal with this messy thing called life.

“A warrior doesn’t worry about what she can’t control.”

This is a mantra I repeat to myself many times a day. Sometimes I believe it. It’s hard. But it really is the only way to keep yourself sane these days. The world has turned upside down, but you can’t control it. You can only control yourself.

I can’t control that 75% of my income earning potential vanished overnight. I can control how I budget the remaining 25%, credit cards and looking into new income streams.

I can’t control that I’m stuck in a country I was supposed to leave this week for however long this continues to go on. I can try and learn to love it again, because we’re going to be spending more time together.

So what else can I do to keep myself healthy and sane? Let’s look at what Octavia does.

Train. One of the first things I started doing as soon as the lockdown started in mid-March was set up an exercise plan. Now, I don’t typically “exercise” in my normal life. I just walk everywhere I need to go and call that good enough. But now that I’m not really doing that, I have to find a way to do so indoors. I started out with three half-hour Zumba sessions per day, and now I’ve worked my way into more specific and targeted workout sessions. YouTube is a godsend. Every type of exercise you could think of, in any time length you want, you can find there. I’m doing abs, arms, more squats than I’ve ever done in my life, kickboxing, etc.

Read. See all those books on your shelves collecting dust? Yeah, read them now. I haven’t been following this advice as much as I should, but I’m making an effort to get better. I have so many unread books and I really should read them. If you’re one of those strange people who don’t have unread books, embrace the opportunities that sites like Project Gutenberg provide and read all the classics online for free. Octavia loves the classics.

Eat healthy. I hadn’t eaten at home for six months before this all started, so I had to refill my pantry and remember how to cook. Keeping your body healthy is important. Get your fruits and vegetables. Also ensure a protein source. Don’t go full on prepper, don’t hoard, but if shit hits the fan and you want to avoid the Dark Year happening in real life, make sure you have a few jars of peanut butter and/or a few packs of beef jerky stashed away for a rainy day. Your neighbours will thank you.

“Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim.” (Get knocked down, get back up)

At the beginning of this year, no one could have predicted what the state of the world is right now. People made plans. People started putting their plans into action.

Enter coronavirus.

Everything changes.

I actually had a plan for this year. I was going to leave here this week, go back to Canada for six months, then move to Spain. Well... I don’t know what’s going to happen now. And because of the uncertainty, I can’t know. This has made me so mad, because for the first time in years I had a strategy for the changes I wanted to make in my life, and now they’d all been shot to sunshine.

Some days you have to just scream. (Or cry and spend the day eating quesadillas in a blanket fort. True story.) But then after that happens, you have to brush yourself off, get up again and keep going.

Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim.

I’m not making any plans further than today. I know that’s an exercise in futility right now. All I can do is focus on what I can control (see above point) and continue to focus on that and what I can do for myself until there are things that I can do in the world again.

Moral of the story: Yes, there are going to be shitty days. You’ve probably already had a bunch of them. But you have to pick yourself up again and keep going when they’re over. You might feel like you want to give up. Heaven knows Octavia’s felt like that a lot of times. But she still kept going. If she stubbornly fought through a cliff dive with a stab wound and a quicksand pool of Orbeez, we can handle some uncertainty and delayed life plans.

“The sword doesn’t care what you meant, it just cuts.”

Time to step onto a soapbox for a bit.

Some world leaders and governments have done admirably with dealing with this crisis. Some have done okay. Some have done so fucking awful at their jobs and continue to spout nonsense from their podiums that it is going to cause real people to die. (Not naming any names, but I’m sure you know what I mean.)

Octavia is the only character on this show who understands that when you’re in a tough situation, what your intentions are doesn’t matter, it is only the results that do. This is applicable to our situation today in a twofold manner.

Point One: We can only control our own actions. That means being a responsible citizen, following public health guidelines. Stay home. If you have to go out, practice social distancing and any other recommendations set out by your public health authority. You might say you’re young and healthy, you’re not concerned about if you get the virus, but it is not about you. You could be asymptomatic and not know it. You might not mean to get someone else sick - someone who is more vulnerable - but it could still happen if you don’t behave responsibly. So take ownership of your actions and do what you can to minimize the spread.

Which brings us to Point Two: You can’t control other’s actions, but you can hold them accountable for them. Which in this situation mostly means your country’s leaders. Do not forget how they responded to this crisis. Remember. Remember when it is time to vote. Did they do a good job or did they do a bad job? How many people lived or died because of what they said? Did they follow the advice of medical experts? And so on. This isn’t a time for party politics, this is a time for “can we rely on this leader to do what’s right for the people of this country when we’re in a crisis?” If the answer is no, vote for somebody else.

The same applies to non-governmental leaders - leaders of business and charities and everything else that you can think of. Remember who stepped up and helped people when and how they needed it. Remember who didn’t. Remember who actively made lives worse. Budget your money accordingly.

“Kom folau oso na gyon op.” (From the ashes we will rise)

This will pass.

When, we don’t know. How, we don’t know. But all we can do is work on ourselves and make ourselves as strong as we can for whatever the future brings us. 

Some people are optimists, believing that this will usher in a new world where more people understand the challenges that others have always faced with things like mental health or physical disabilities and issues of accessibility and so on. Where more people will be aware of the dangers of climate change. Where people who are now coming together online and building hope and change will continue to do so in person when we can leave our homes and meet up with others again.

Some people are pessimists, believing the world will collapse and we’ll enter into a post-apocalyptic scenario like The 100 or any of the other dozens of post-apocalyptic media offerings out there. Where it’ll be every person for themselves and panic and destruction will reign supreme.

You don’t have to speculate on the different scenarios. That’s not helpful right now. All you can do is work on yourself and make yourself ready for whatever the future will throw at us, and do your part in making a positive one.

This could be the point of lockdown where you’re starting to move out of the panic phase of ensuring survival, and are able to move into higher-level brain function again. If you’re not, that’s okay, it could still take some time. If you’re struggling, don’t be afraid to ask for help. There are people out there who can help. Just remember that this is a process, a process of so many different emotions, sometimes on a loop, sometimes all at once in a flurry of chaos, and that’s okay.

Take care of yourself. Survive. Find a new normal.

Octavia’s journey in season six was about shedding the pain and trauma of her old life, and finding a new one to believe in. Until she did that, she didn’t have to worry about the greater plot nonsense that was going on. That’s our journey now too. The world is changing. How, we don’t know yet. But take this time to make yourself strong for whatever is to come, because whichever scenario wins out, a strong you will always be beneficial.

Ste yuj. (Stay strong.) Because humanity is resilient. And from the ashes, we will rise.

[lucarioisinthevoid]

hello good sir (sir being a gender neutral term), i'd like to send some p r o m p t s. so i haven't played ucn in a LONG time, but some ideas off the top of my head: toy freddy (would be funny), funtime foxy (cause they're a bitch), n. fredbear and maybe nightmare (cause they're twisted versions of his b e l o v e d fredbear), and maybe foxy+bonnie (cause it's a bitch). just some ideas! also, being a man of culture, i'd like to request some tortu- jk, jk (i'd say sth funny but character limit).

(I will fight you for this ask. I will come to you home and pick you up and fling your body into space and into literal Among Us. My brain was going a mile a minute trying to gather enough coins to get rid of Funtime Foxy, and keep on top of EVERYTHING ELSE- And yet I was still surprised when I finally got jumpscared. Welp, I couldn’t have predicted it, so it’s kinda fun being able to write this now. Also yes, warning for mild torment! I’m just not good at writing it- Oh, also, here’s the AO3 link to the thing: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27687695/chapters/67764007 You can read the whole thing there and I update it there as I do here. You can request over there to, but that’s beside the point)

Be on top of his games. Watch his shows. Check in, but only at the right times. Henry grinded his teeth. It was almost like he had a son again- dear god, this truly was hell, wasn’t it? For a moment he had thought the Helpy robot was joking as he elaborated on what the damn plastic piece of shit’s mechanic was- No. No cursing. He shook his head. That was being petty for no reason. He had a mechanic- and it was a stupid one- but that was better than nothing. It was better than being told “you will die” without being able to do anything about it. For a moment he frowned, a though manifesting itself in the back of his mind. … if he would know there was no way to escape the pain, he would grow numb to it. So whoever or whatever set this up seemed to have a keen interest in- The clock chimed, it was time to play. Instantly he pulled up the monitor. He had been gifted the leeway of being allowed to eradicate one of them- and dear god, he would not say no, not if it was the only chance to give a little bit of payback. He checked on Toy Freddy- a good contender to be murdered- and clicked the door of the- vacuum cleaner- dear god, this would make his brain rot- then he moved on to more sensible things, like checking on Foxy, who was thankfully out, then moving over to gathering coins. Laughter from the door. “Mister Miller… look at you. You seem stressed.” “Why yes, I am quite tense.” Without looking up he closed the doors, opening them up right away. “I have to admit to my distain of the character selection that currently is coming after me. They make no sense, you see?” Another, similarly as deep voice sounded, albeit with a brighter tint to it- “… oh, don’t be ashamed of that, Mr. Miller. They have more distain for you than you do for them.” Once more, doors closed, doors open. He didn’t even need to look. “I can assume that, yes, but that is hardly my issue, is it now? My issue is their reality bending and tedious habits.” For this round he would be stuck on the cameras, wouldn’t he? Once more he flipped over to Foxy, gathering coins and being quietly thankful for the fact that he and Bonnie had not switched places yet. He had to get this done in the first time-warped hour and if he didn’t- he wasn’t sure when exactly the clock would move over and he didn’t want to find out. The nightmare duo was chuckling, so he shortly put the monitor down to look inside of Nightmare Fredbear’s red eyes. “… what are you supposed to be?” “You have never truly understood your own creation, did you…? If it lives… it changes…” “The only nightmare I ever created were the suits and-“ He turned to the other side, spotting the more pinkish eyes shining from that frame. “… you. Are you not supposed to be me?” “I think you can answer that yourself.” Shaking his head, Henry dismissed both of them, closing the doors and opening the camera feed, checking once more on Foxy, helping out Toy Freddy and finally snatching up the last few coins he needed- instantly he moved over to the price corner, ordering one of the silver coins- His eyes darted to the clock- Oh god, only a few more moments before the timer skipped- The pink hellfox was peering out of its cove, grinning widely- a grin that instantly was replaced by an agonized and hateful scream as Henry used the coin, allowing himself for a moment to watch the machine literally being disintegrated into clear silver dust. From the side, Nightmare Fredbear chuckled. “… how cruel.” “This is a dog-eat-dog world. You should not try to inflict onto others what you are not willing to go through yourself.” “Oh? Are you ready for what is coming for you then?” Abruptly Henry started laughing, as he once more checked on Foxy, then moved to Toy Freddy. “What? What is coming for me? Being brought back to Fredbear’s, except this time I am immortal, have inhuman strength and can start honing my ability to move whatever I desire with my mind? What a terrible fate you are threatening me with, Nightmare! I am appalled! How dare you gift me with everything I have ever wanted!” One last time he switched back to Foxy, then deactivated the monitors, assuming it was best to be on Foxy’s camera right away, so when he pulled the camera back up- His eyes fell on the little figure of Bonnie that was now on the table. For the love of god, how could he have been that stupid!? Looking up at Nightmare Fredbear’s red eyes, he saw a bit of bemusement in it- that and a deep, underlaying level of pure disgust. “… will you ever learn, Mr. Miller? Will you ever realize that the resistance you have been met with was not from nowhere? Will you learn that you cursed them?” “NONSENSE.” Henry HISSED. “I considered you smart. I was wrong. The only reason the children were struggling against me because I could not yet accommodate them well enough- propaganda against me and my mission was spread. William seemed to have been just fine with his joke of a family that he had gotten himself in a flight of passing fancy. What made him different?!” There was only silence from the outside, as Henry glanced once more at the figure. Still Bonnie and it wouldn’t change. Muttering more so to himself than to the Fredbear, he stressed his point. “Nature has turned on me for taking what I desired, much like the ocean, the skies and the land has turned against humanity at every opportunity. Even in the different religious texts, humanity and to steal and take with violence what it needed to become what it was meant to be. One god banished the species in fear of them becoming immortal, much like the being itself- another wanted to deny us fire as petty retaliation, because fire brings creation- and it had to be taken back by theft.” Not quite, but close enough. He didn’t want to recount the stories. “… if you want to grow, you have to feed, and if you feed, you destroy. And so, destruction brings new creation. We feed off the old gods and create new rules. Nature does not like to be controlled and abused- all it wishes is to slowly burn itself out. Until nothing is left. But we humans preserve- we are a species who is so defenseless, yet have made it this far, by preserving knowledge, by learning early, early and as much as we can- eventually however it will come to a standstill. You can only learn so much with the time given. Until said time become infinite. Some ills of humanity can only be cured by allowing humans to permanently remain and learn. For that we need immortality.” There still was only silence and he sighed- He had wasted too much time. The Bonnie figure was still there, but he might as well get it over with, he wouldn’t get around him disabling the cameras. Quickly he closed the door to the left side where he knew Nightmare Fredbear was waiting, pulling up the cameras, to Bonnie’s aggressive scream- But before he could really boot the thing up, a giant black paw came from above grabbing the little tablet, cracking it. The Amalgamation was towering over him, black fur and metal broken up by the silver shine of its teeth. Baffled for a few seconds, Henry looked at him. “I… did not hear you.” “The others are not your problem anymore, are they now?” With its vile grin it picked Henry up by the head, an incredibly painful experience, playfully throwing him against the wall with full force- a crack was sounded and as Henry tried to stumble back on his feet, he quickly realized he couldn’t- something was damaged, so badly that the pain was too much- His head was still sharp though, the white pain barely being fended off by his mind trying to figure out how this creature could be HERE- It had been HIM, it was HIM, what would make him want to- Blood was dripping from out his mouth, tasting disgustingly mechanical- “… you… you are supposed to be ME-“ Smiling the monstrous bear-esque beast picked him up, causing another wave of incoherent, glowing pain to wash through Henry, his whole chest being just enough to fill the Amalgamation’s hand. “I was you. We have seen all your thoughts, all your ideas, we have shaped, and we have remembered. You are me. And we crave violence, Mister Miller. Your words were pretty to hear, but we do not believe them. We know what we are- a monster who thinks of itself too highly, an animal unable to resist the siren call of violence and blood. Our creation has not made us better than all the monsters we feared becoming. There is only one difference between us… … I am not ashamed of my needs anymore.” With that he started pulling on Henry’s arm, pulling as the delirious man convulsed under him- Ready to take a bite out of it. “But I do love creation too… and I cannot wait to see what we will turn you into. The brain is moldable, Henry. It does fantastical things under pain and pressure…” His other claw was digging into the human’s head. The other was pulling the now separated arm to his maw, biting down with a sickening, wet crunch. Happily he sighed. The few seconds of Henry’s awareness that were left only wondered quietly if his parts being consumed would mean he would never get them back- The Amalgamation seemed to hear the thought, grinning at him with its now stained teeth. “I will vomit you back… to relieve your horror…” … with that Henry faded.

[shedreamsofstars]

Cataclysm of the Heart - Chapter 6

She’d waited so long to hear those words fall from his perfect lips. She’d never even stopped to consider that they might not be sincere.

They were going to die. He’d been sure of it. It had only been meant as a comfort. Something to keep a smile on her face as their end loomed.

Neither of them had counted on being rescued.

Start from the beginning  |  Next Chapter

…xxx…

He let her finish her tea.

He let her hold his hand across the table.

He let her talk about her day.

He let her struggle to hold back the tears.

He let her order another cup.

At each point, he told himself that it was time. That he'd tell Amy the truth before this could go any further. Yet at each point he hesitated. At each point, he told himself … just one more moment. He knew he was just putting off the inevitable, but it didn't matter anymore.

He wanted to give her as much time as he could.

As they both sipped at the final dregs of their second cups of tea, Sonic couldn't delay any further. They would have no excuse to stay soon. It was now or never. He had to come clean.

"Amy, there's uh …" He placed the cup on the saucer, clearing his throat. "There's something that I need to tell you." He spoke slowly. And with every word that left his lips, he slowly unlinked his fingers from hers and let them rest flat on the table.

Amy watched him curiously but made no move to reach for his hand again. She only cocked her head to the side quizzically at his prolonged silence. "What is it Sonic?" she urged, her green eyes suddenly sharp with worry. She knew something was up.

"I uh-" The words caught in his throat, his mouth bone dry. He looked down at his tea cup but it remained just as empty as when he had put it down. Sonic blew out a breath of air, his head dropping into his hands in frustration. How was he supposed to say this without completely ruining everything?

"Sonic," Amy called out softly. Her fingers brushed against his knuckles.

Somehow the light and comforting gesture just made everything worse. He pulled his hand back quickly, as if her very touch had burned him.

He was fully aware of the hurt on her face, but he couldn't do this anymore. Not to her. He couldn't pretend, couldn't lead her on, couldn't do any of it. All the hand holding, the touches, the kisses from the last two days, they weren't real.

He was a liar.

He had to tell her the truth.

He didn't love her. He didn't want her like she wanted him. None of this was real.

And so, with those very words on his tongue, Sonic broke her heart.

...xxx...

"For the fifth time Sonic," Amy sighed. "We've already tried that."

"Just once more Amy. Please."

The pink hedgehog rolled her eyes but followed along anyway, her hammer materialising in her hands as she hopped up onto Sonic's interlocked hands. He threw her upwards and Amy whacked her weapon at the top of the cage before falling to the ground.

Just like their other attempts, Sonic caught her in his arms - he never let her hit the ground unless he was lowering her himself - and just like all the other times, they didn't even make a scratch in the glass.

"Satisfied?" Amy asked, confirming the fact by glancing upwards.

"No," Sonic grumbled, falling backwards into the wall behind him. "If we don't get out of here soon, we're dooming all of Mobius."

"No pressure, then," Amy retorted humourlessly.

"Right," he said, spinning and banging a fist tentatively against the glass wall as if he was testing it for something. "You know, about before," Sonic said, switching the topics faster than she had a chance to stop him. "I'm sorry I got angry at you. I didn't mean to but …"

"But you just had to say something. I get it."

Her hammer disappeared.

"You do."

"Yes, Sonic. Not all of us spend our time running from our emotions, some of us actually feel them."

Sonic fell quiet, and Amy wondered if perhaps she had said the wrong thing. She knew that their main focus should have been getting out of the cage, but Sonic's words from earlier kept circling in her mind.

I hate myself for what I did Amy.

She wanted to refute them. To call them lies and move on, but there was no way she could deny the truth of the pain in his voice, the hurt in his eyes. It was more than just a deep dwelling guilt. It was a torture.

How had they ended up like this? Hurting each other without ever trying.

"Listen, let's just put everything behind us for now. Stopping Eggman is our first priority and I want you to know that I'm behind you one hundred percent. We will stop him. And once we have, then we can sit down and talk this out," she said, gesturing between the pair of them.

Sonic looked like he'd argue to settle things right there and then from the way he worked his jaw, but he only dipped his head once in agreement. "Alright."

She was glad he wasn't putting up more of a fight, but then again, the world was at stake and he was Sonic the Hedgehog. Saving the world, saving people - saving her feelings - all of these things were second nature to him. He knew what was on the line, and he knew what he could or couldn't risk.

A strange buzzing noise bounced off the walls and Amy turned towards the source. Sonic stood quizzically staring at his own wrist comm, sparing her a single look before hitting the answer button.

"Uh … hello?"

"Sonic! Is that really you?" Tails' voice bounced off the walls in the small cage.

"Who else would it be? I thought this thing was broken…"

"I've been boosting the signal and trying to reach you for hours but you've been off the grid, I couldn't even find your location. Actually, I still can't … where are you?"

"With Eggman and his cannon. We don't actually know where," he said, glancing around him again as if the answer would be written on the walls.

"We? Who's with you? Is it Knuckles?"

"No, it's Amy," he said, lifting his wrist towards her.

"Hey Tails."

"Hi Amy. Look guys, if you're with Eggman then you already know what's going on. What's the plan, because it's just me and Rouge down here and we're scrambling."

Sonic winced.

"Actually, we're in a bit of situation. Eggman's got us trapped in a glass cage, and we've tried everything to get out," he admitted, his face twisting like it pained him to admit that he was stuck.

"Glass? Like the tank you told me about the other day?"

"No, I could break that one with my hammer," Amy cut in, grimacing at the memory of Sonic in that tank, floating and barely alive. "This one is something else."

There was an incoherent crackle of static, before "-but it's glass so this should work. Hey Rouge, cover your ears."

Before either Sonic or Amy had a chance to comprehend Tail's words, an incomprehensible screech blasted around them and both hedgehogs immediately fell to the floor clutching the sides of their head.

The sound lasted for what seemed like forever, and when it finally ceased Amy could still hear its phantom in the air.

"What the heck was that Tails!?" Sonic yelled at his wrist. Amy couldn't work out if he was shouting because he was mad or because he couldn't hear himself over the ringing in his ears. It was likely a combination of the two.

"Sorry, I did try to warn you."

Sonic shook his head.

"Did it work though. Did the pitch shatter the glass?"

"No …?" Amy said as she slowly realised what Tails had been trying to do. "I think you didn't go high enough … or maybe the communicator isn't powerful enough."

"I'll loop your comm in too Amy, and then cycle through some different pitches. You'll be out of there in a snap … or I should say smash." The pink hedgehog couldn't help but smile at Tails attempt at levity.

"Maybe give us a little more warning this time bro," Sonic complained.

"What, do want a countdown or something? Because, three, two …"

Amy and Sonic slammed their hands over their ears as Tails reached 'one' and that terrible sound rang out around them again. This time Amy was more prepared despite the sound intensifying with her own communicator emitting it alongside Sonic's. When she looked up, it was to see that the walls of the cage were vibrating.

She felt more than heard the pitch change around them and slowly but surely the glass was vibrating faster and faster and faster until there was no other option but for it to -

She threw herself towards Sonic and dragged him to the ground in the centre of the cage right as the glass shattered to pieces around them. Tails must have heard the sound on his end because suddenly the screeching stopped and the room fell silent.

"You guys okay there?"

Amy lifted her head and stood before toppling right back to the ground. That sound had messed with her balance, but all in all, she supposed she was. She turned to Sonic and found him dusting sparkling glass dust off of his knees. He at least had managed to remain standing.

He noticed her watching him and held out a hand which she took gratefully, letting him pull her to her feet. She wobbled but managed to stay upright this time.

"We're fine," Amy said as Sonic grabbed her hand and led her out the room, breaking the doors locking system with a single punch to the button pad. The door swung open to reveal a short, deserted corridor that stretched out in both directions.

"Good call on the cage Tails, but that was only the start. We have to shut down Eggman's cannon."

There was a buzz of interference before Tails voice came through again.

"There has to be a powerful source of energy on board. If you can find a way to disable it then the canon won't have enough juice to fire."

"Wait here," Sonic said. "I'll take a look around."

"Oh, hell no hedgehog," Amy said. "You're not leaving me here."

"Fine," he said with a curt nod as he headed down a corridor. "I'll check this way, you get that way. Shout if you find anything."

Amy nodded, and they parted ways.

She rounded the corner, her heels clanking against the metal floor. Every corridor she turned was deserted, and if Eggman had been right about this place blowing to pieces, then she had no doubt that she and Sonic were the only things left alive in the vicinity.

It didn't take her long to find what she was searching for. A room sparking wildly with lightning.

There was no doubt in her mind that it held the power source. She peered in through the glass window and frowned at the sight of the master emerald within, encased within a generator.

How did Eggman manage to get it in his possession? Come to think of it, Tails did say he couldn't get a hold of Knuckles. She hoped he was okay, but she didn't have time to dwell on him just then. Without wasting any more time, the pink hedgehog spun on her toes and ran back to where she'd left her blue counterpart, calling out to him as she ran.

"SONIC! SONIC!"

She'd barely turned into the corridor she'd last seen him in when she almost ran into the solid form of the blue hedgehog. He caught her by the shoulders and drew her to a halt. "Everything okay?"

"I found it," Amy said breathlessly, pointing in the direction she'd just come from. "There's a room back there sparking with electricity and the Master Emerald is trapped inside."

"The Master Emerald! Where the hell is Knuckles?!" Tail's incredulous voice buzzed. There was a muffle of voices before the fox's voice came through again."Sorry, Rouge has gone to look for him so it's just me from now on."

"You're more than enough Tails," Amy reassured him. "We can do this."

"You two need to be careful. If the Master Emerald is sparking, then it's unstable. You can't walk in there unprotected, the power will fry you in seconds. Sonic, do you still have that emerald?"

Sonic reached behind him, pulling a crystalline emerald from his quills. It rolled across his fingers a little before he closed a fist around it tightly.

"Yeah, after last time I always keep it with me for emergencies."

"Whatever you do, don't activate it. It's not safe with all that unpredictable energy around you. You should be able to harness it's resting energy, but its protection radius is likely to be small."

Amy knew what that meant. Only one of them could go into the room.

"If that energy is unstable as I think, then even the emerald can only protect you from so much. It won't be able to withstand a direct explosion, so try to keep the damage to a minimum." There was a pause, and then. "Be careful."

"We will," Sonic assured. "See you after we save the world buddy."

There was a soft buzz of static and then the comm fell silent, and Amy knew that the two of them were alone once again.

"Alright, why don't-" Sonic started to say but stopped when Amy plucked the emerald from his open palm. She closed her fingers around it tightly, feeling the gentle thrum of untapped power within.

"Amy, I need that." Sonic said with a frown, holding out his hand impatiently.

She shook her head.

"No, you don't."

Sonic's eyes filled with horror as he realised what she intended to do. He darted forward to grab the emerald off of her, but even he wasn't fast enough to reach her before she slipped her hand behind her back.

"Amy, no. Give it back to me," he grumbled as he tried and failed to reach around her.

"I won't," she said stubbornly. "Mobius needs their hero, now more than ever. I'd be stupid to let you go in there and hurt yourself."

Sonic took a step away from her, narrowing his eyes at her in irritation.

"Given the choice, who would you send in Sonic - the person who held the very hopes of the people in their hands or some girl with a hammer?"

There was a charged silence between them as Sonic refused to answer.

"We both know the answer Sonic. If it's between saving me and the world, there really isn't much of a choice. There's only ever one answer."

Sonic sighed, clearly exasperated.

"But you can't just-"

"I can."

Amy pressed her lips together tightly as she realised she had to take the opportunity to say her next words, just in case she never got the chance again. Mustering all of her resolve, she lifted her gaze and looked Sonic directly in the eyes.

It felt like staring into the sun.

"I forgive you Sonic. For all of it."

Amy didn't let herself register the expression on his face as she turned on her heels and walked away. Towards a tentative future that she knew in her heart that she might never live to see.

[kenmasleftpinky]

Eraser, My Hero

My Hero, Eraser pt. 1

Dadzawa x OC

Midoriya Izuku x OC

Bakugou Katsuki x (platonic) OC

A/N: Welcome to the first part of Eraser, My Hero. This is also an Izuku love story, but we are focusing on my original character Ace’s development, and who’s quirk will be revealed in the coming chapters! Enjoy :) 

(p.s The Italics are Third Person POV)

Growing up with a villainous quirk is almost the same as being quirkless; there is relentless bullying to the point of isolating yourself from others. That’s how I met Izuku Midoriya, the most precious person to me. He has been everything, my solace, only friend, and rational reasoning for many years and I have done my best to protect him when he couldn’t protect himself, even when it meant that I’d end up taking the beatings for him.

He has done nothing but been the absolute light of my life, and for that I owe him everything. There have been times where the bullying and harsh treatments have gotten me to the edge, but I always had Izuku to bring me back and for that I, again,owe him everything.

We became friends shortly after it was discovered that he was quirkless, his obsession with becoming a hero never dampened even when he heard that he was quirkless. His even further obsession with All Might, the number one hero that everyone looked up to, was even more off putting to the adults due to his ‘disability’ but that never made him stop working and hoping to become his idol one day.

The day in question started off with Kaachan or, as everyone else called  him, Bakugou having a go at him.He was showing off his quirk, explosion, and made sure that Izuku was the perfect test dummy.  

“Stupid Deku” growled Bakugou as Izuku laid on the ground covered in soot, burns, and bruises from the most recent bullying attempt that Bakugo gave him. 

He grinned at the laughing of his peers from behind him as they all stared down at the whimpering Izuku, his big green eyes filled to the brim with tears and snot running down from his nose. 

It was after school, the playground near their houses empty save for the few souls who refused to confront the explosive boy as it most likely would end in their suffering. However, the few spread out kids watched as a girl stood up from the sandbox and made her way over. A few of them tried to warn her to stay back, but all she gave them was a small smile and a wink before she continued to make her way over to the group of boys near the entrance of the playground. 

Her lips fell in a frown as she gazed upon the scene she was approaching, and as she walked up to the small green haired boy she couldn’t help but wince at not only the condition of his clothes and the bruises on his body, but at the amount of pain behind those beautiful green eyes.

I grinned at the memory, remembering that the first thing that I noticed about Izuku was his green eyes, those pure innocent eyes that I have grown to love so much more over time, at the time coated in the pain that he felt in his heart.

The girl smiled down at the injured boy as she stood in front of him, blocking his view of Bakugou and the rest of his posse. He looked up at her slowly and grinned as his eyes met her big brown ones. Anyone at the scene could have seen that she was a foreigner with her tanned skin, and curly hair tied up in two curly puffs that stuck out on the sides of her head, with two white strands braided back to meet her bubble hair ties. Her big brown eyes, to Izuku, looked like they held all the happiness in the world in them and he couldn’t help but feel safe in her presence. 

Her offered hand was beyond soft and felt comfortable in his as she helped him off the ground, and he could only stare in amazement as she dusted off his clothes and used a handkerchief to wipe the snot, soot, and the long gone tears off his face, careful to avoid the bruises that were still tender on his face.

As she took care of him, and he was lost in the world that was her eyes, Bakugou felt annoyed that not only was that damned Deku being helped by a foreigner but also at the fact that he was completely ignored. He continued to hurl insults at the two but his words fell on deaf ears. Bakugou Katsuki was not one who liked to be ignored and he definitely did not want to lose the reputation he had, so he sent an explosion from his palms towards the two children.

The whole park went silent when a wall of black mass blocked the two kids from the blast. This black mass seemed to move like water, but the accompanying whispers that seemed to multiply the longer it stayed let everyone in the area who saw know that it was alive and moving. The mass fell and splashed to the ground and soaked into the ground without a trace. 

After the mass fell and disappeared, the foreign girl turned to Bakugou, to finally give him the attention he wanted. The sneers that had been exploding from his lips seemed to get stuck in his throat as the wide brown eyes the once captivated Izuku, drew him in as well. 

“You’re a real jerk, you know that? We’re not even supposed to be using our quirks in public. You’re lucky you didn’t get caught, boom boom boy.” said the foreign girl, her Japanese having a slight accent. She stared up at him with disapproving eyes.

Bakugou was taken aback. No one has ever called him out before, and this little brown girl wasn’t going to get away with it. He opened his mouth to scream more insults at her, but as he did,

“Katsuki! Get your ass over here it's time to go” yelled a blonde woman with short hair from the front of the park where they were all standing. His eyes lit up as he saw his mother and threw him a smile before tilting her head, motioning for him to come to her. 

He glared at the two kids in front of him, let out a tch, and made his way over to his ‘old hag’ and left the park with the promise of revenge in his mind. 

The rest of the posse dispersed as their leader left, making sure to sneer at the two kids that were left standing there as they made their way to the group of parents who seemingly just arrived to pick up their own gremlins. 

The green haired boy let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding since his savior decided to back talk Kaachan. As he turned to the girl that captured every bit of his attention not only a few moments ago, he was surprised to see tear filled eyes, trembling lips, and red cheeks. He was even more shocked when she grabbed the collar of his shirt and started shaking him like a rag doll.

“WAH THAT WAS SO SCARY GREEN BEAN! I ALMOST DIED FIVE TIMES WHILE TRYING TO TALK TO HIM” she squealed as tears ran down her cheeks. She continued to shake the life out of him until she saw his soul leaving his now motionless body. 

“WAHH DON’T DIE YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE MY NEW FRIEND” as she tried to catch his soul before it went too far.

When they both finally calmed down, and Izuku was returned his soul, she grabbed his hands and led him to the sandbox where she was playing before approaching the bullying scene. 

She plopped her bum on the sand and motioned for him to sit beside her, bringing her pail, shovel, and dump truck from her side, to in between them for them to play.

And that’s what they did for hours, simply played in the sand with matching red blotches on their cheeks as they enjoyed the presence of their new friend. But all good things must come to an end, and soon a green haired woman was standing near the front of the park, calling for Izuku. He stood and sent her a small smile, saddened by the fact that he had to leave his companion so early.

Both kids stood, and he helped her shake the sand off her toys and clothes before she in turn did the same for his clothes. They approached the short woman, and her eyes seemed to sparkle as she laid her eyes on the little girl that stood almost shyly beside her son. His grinned widened as he approached his mother, his hand locked tightly with his friends as he practically dragged her across the park to his mother. 

“Mom! Mom! Look at my new friend!” yelled the small boy as he stood in front of his mother and slightly pushed the now red and sweating girl in front of him. Said girl's lips trembled as she mustered up a smile and bowed slightly to the green haired woman. In response, Inko practically squished the girl against her chest as she squealed at how adorable the little girl was. 

At this point, the two females made a connection that no one could get in between, both positively attached to the other. Inko loved the adorable foreign girl, and the tiny child was absolutely in love with the hugs that this woman gave.

As they separated, another woman came and the little girl wiggled out of Inko’s grasp and ran full speed towards her, barreling her into a quick hug before dragging her over to the mother and son duo. 

The mothers talked animatedly as the kids just stood in front of each other, staring at the other with eyes filled with happiness at the thought of their new found friendship. The mothers looked at their kids, realizing how weirdly adorable they were, and soon pulled them apart and went on their own ways with the promise of a play date fresh in their minds. Before pulling away from each other the girl gasped and turned around yelling, “Hey green bean!”

Izuku turned and flushed at her brightly smiling face with the backdrop of the sunset behind her and her frantically waving hand. “My name is Ace! What’s yours?” her yelling continued and with a deep breath he yelled back with his hand waving at the same rate as hers,

“My name is Midoriya Izuku!” and as her mother continued to pull her away, she yelled one last thing as she rounded the corner,

“It’s nice to meet you! Lets play again!” and all she was able to see was his nod before she continued to be in step with her giggling mother who stared down at her daughter with mischievous eyes. 

“My dear, it seems that you have finally made a friend” her mother chimed as their hands swung in tandem with their steps. Ace looked up at her mother and furrowed her brows before saying,

“No mama, he’s my soulmate not my friend” Ace said innocently and giggled as she escaped her now frantic mothers grasp and skipped down the street with her mother calling from not too far behind her with ‘its too soon’ and that her ‘little princess can’t have a soulmate before she can read’. 

That is how I met Izuku, and how we began our journey to become the number one heroes.

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Dragon Dancer III: Godfall

Major Spoilers: Spoils Luminous and The Finale of Book 3 and current story line

Trigger Warnings: Cruel Imagery

His face was inches from mine. But it wasn’t in a mask. It was a face I knew. Tachibana’s face.

“H...how...?” I managed to grunt before he let me go.  I collapsed.

“Soul Skill: Doppleganger. It was far easier to get what I needed done if I could play both sides. Of course, in order for you to survive, I had to sacrifice the Tachibana identity... but at that point it had fulfilled its purpose.”

I looked to where the King’s body had been but there was nothing there. Frozen transfixed, I struggled to breathe, moaning with the effort.

“I’m afraid we’re out of time.” He retrieved the parasite's container. “The ritual begins now.”

He returned to me and grabbed me by my hair. I heard the box open. Something cold and wet touched my skin. I couldn’t even struggle as it crawled around my body. But then it stopped.

The King dropped me. Shattering pain exploded inside. I cried, helpless.

The King put the baby down just out of my reach. The parasite was attached to its temple. My eyes burned and tears fell when the corrosive spider silk began to grow from its little nose, tiny chin, round feet and fingertips and connected to the silks already covering the red well.

“No... No...” I tried to get up reaching out to him.

The King marched over and put his boot on the hilt of the blade in my back and pushed down hard. The tip pierced the ground, pinning me. “You’re not going anywhere, if you teleport you die quicker. The Sword of Damocles is for you.”

The silk formed something like a crochet blanket around the child. “You can’t save him now. His soul is already lost.”

The baby sat completely still among the silk. There was no light in his eyes any more.

Somewhere outside my vision, the King continued his lecture. “The White King never had any intention of helping humanity achieve eternal life. She only wanted to extend her own own existence by using humans as a host for her own rebirth. Behold your son, the Light King."

He was not my son. My son was dead. The cocoon had nearly enclosed him like a lacy casket.

"As a newly reborn dragon, the White King’s blood has the strongest effect and the weakest toxicity.”

His voice grew louder as he returned. “I was going to use you as a host and let the child grow up with me as a dragon... but... This is not a permanent setback.”

“I must say despite that you were very valuable to me. I couldn’t have fought Chisei on my own.” He gave me a mocking sneer with Tachibana's face, unwrapping a thick needle and medical tubing. “Thanks.”

My lungs spasmed painfully against the blade in my chest. I coughed a red mist to the ground.

“Herzog... I... hate you... I hate... you!”

He inserted the needle into the child’s neck, attached the tubing and inserted the other end into his wrist. Bright red blood flowed from the baby through the tubing into him. I struggled to break free of the sword. I looked to the unconscious Chisei. I filled my lungs with air, sobbing. "I'm going to kill you!"

Herzog’s eyes began to grow golden. His skin started to shed those white filaments until he was cocooned. His laughter could be heard within. Then moaning, choking, and a low guttural snarl.

I forced my elbows under me, but I was fastened to the ground and losing strength.

I could only watch as a claw tore open the silk. What emerged was no man, but something similar to a death Servitor, pure gleaming white. Two membrane wings split the cocoon down the middle.

It fell over, legless with wings and arms only, but it still had a human face. It was only a little longer than a man was tall but the size belied  power Herzog now had. It aimed its eyes to the sky and beat its pinions to soar up out of sight, out of reach.

I sank back to the ground, gazing at the pale, cold body of my son. I'd failed Chime and this little one. But I no longer had the strength to cry.

"Daddy... I tried."

"Carli!"

A familiar voice shouted my name, a pair of sneakers kicked up dust next to my face.

Mingfei yanked the sword out of me and tossed it aside. "Carli..."

I couldn't help but smile. This was so familiar, just like in the cave when he held me as I turned servitor. He was holding me now, crying, as I died again. I would have laughed but at this point, but each breath was a conscious choice.

Mingfei was screaming. "Save her! Save her, damn it! I don't care what you do! W...wait who ...who are you?"

As my vision dimmed, I thought I could see my father, prismatic scales sparkling in his own light. He was standing over me.

I blinked, remembered the dragon words he taught me. "Eternal... Cycle, Unity in All Things.... Self-suffi...."

The final gasp of adrenaline in my chest was fruitless. I went limp and it felt like falling into darkness.

I never would have stopped falling were it not for a sudden call. "Carli."

"Chisei?" He was in the darkness with me. He had golden eyes. I remembered Johann.

I couldn't leave someone.

But which someone? Johann? Or Mingfei? My mind was muddled and I couldn't decide, but I just didn't want to leave this dark place without Chisei.

I felt myself being drawn back up. Breathe. I needed to breathe! I grabbed Chisei's coat. "Come back with me!"

Those cold killer eyes regarded me briefly.

And he smiled.

I came back into my body, gasping for air, but something was different. I couldn't see anything but white. The world was strangely loud. I could see and sense the invisible forces that composed it. Fire, Earth... Wind... Water.

Spirit.

"Ouroboros!"

Mingfei's commanding call made me stretch the length of my body, my clawed hand of glassy scales reached in front of my eyes. 

"Ouroboros..."

Chisei! I gasped with joy. He came back with me! He'd turned away from death and knew my name! 

"....Meixiu..." 

"Johann! Johann!" My heart beat loud in my ears, eager to reunite with my loves.

I stretched my wings and they burst from my cocoon, tearing it completely apart. Bright white and gold feathers draped from my back like the train of a wedding dress, as crystalline as diamonds. Next to me, a dark-scaled person stood with black membrane wings and a human face. "Mingfei?"

An intimidating aura radiated from him. His reptilian eyes made me shudder.

He held out his clawed hand to me. "Can you fly?"

His wings stirred the air and he rose from the ground. I followed, shedding the last shreds of the cocoon. After two experimental beats I could let go of him. Together we tasted the freedom of dragon flight. The ground shrank away, the endless sky spread above.

Mingfei's smile made me blush. He seemed suddenly mature and mischievous.

Another form zoomed past me leaving us behind, silver-scaled, like a flying bullet. In one wing stroke I caught up to him. 

Chisei looked different. He was even more reptilian before, eyes covered with a faceted scale that made him look like he had insect eyes. He was larger, stronger, faster, but I had the feeling he was not nearly as strong as I was.

I felt that power surge through my muscles and beat my wings once again and accelerated past him. Mingfei matched my speed then surpassed it. I laughed.

I wasn’t angry or filled with hatred any more. I was enthralled with my own power. I spread my wings to stop myself. There was one I was missing. He was coming. Always so slow.

Turtle. I mocked him in my mind.

As I looked in the distance, I became aware of a roaring sound coming towards me. I blinked. They were like birds, but moved more like fish, fins stiff, stuck straight out their sides.

Fighter jets.

This was a human's world and I was a dragon. I was the enemy.

I forgot.

I called Mingfei and Chisei in my mind. We turned away from the aircraft and split up. I blinked into the darkness of the void  and returned behind the jets without bothering to visualize first. Slipping in and out of this reality was so much easier for me now.

I wouldn’t permit the other dragons to harm the humans inside. Just disable their aircraft. Mingfei attacked from below and ripped out their engines. Chisei severed the wings. They obeyed my orders immediately and without question.

The real target was up ahead.

Herzog was not difficult to find. He was recklessly toying with the Earth’s elements, aiming destructive tsunamis, typhoons and earthquakes at the helpless human population. He was like me. Control of these powerful forces was only a thought away. 

He was playing with the lives of humans just like a child who didn’t understand his actions, dancing and laughing in the sky, creating disaster as though jumping in puddles on a rainy day.

I screamed a command at him to stop. The command reverberated for miles around. Far below, every living thing trembled.

From within the clouds, I could feel his attention directed at me in indignation at my authoritative voice, the one who dared challenge his newfound reign.

 The feathers turned from white to red and whipped out like bright tendrils, like I was flying with wings of fire. I aimed at him, bright like a comet in the sky.

Mingfei roared at my side. Far below us the corpses of the Devil Clan and the Hydra Elite forces, who had been entombed in silk, burst out and took to the air as Death Servitors under his command. 

The war would continue! Dragon against dragon!

Herzog turned and began to climb into the air above the clouds. But I was gaining on him, his tail growing closer to my teeth. He let out a furious howl of frustration. He turned and dove, seeking an escape, only to fly right towards Chisei’s gaping maw. He dodged at the last second, snatching his wing from between the silver dragon’s jaws. 

Another surge of strength stretched the flames of my wings even farther, turning them white hot.  Pursued and hounded by an ascended Chisei, Herzog couldn’t dodge me and we collided. I embraced him and sank my teeth into his neck. He twisted out of my grip, howling as my fiery wing tip lashed him across the eye.

Desperate gripping his bleeding eye, he dove down at high speed. I didn’t follow him, letting Mingfei and Chisei pursue. As soon as he broke below the cloud cover however, he was met with yet another force of nature: A blast of heat so fierce it punched a hole through the clouds.

Chu Zihang. His scales were molten hot, shimmering like lava, and like a volcano he was in a constant state of blast and eruption.

Herzog’s wings folded limp, thin tendrils of smoke rising from his singed scales. After moving away some distance, he pivoted on one wingtip and aimed his eyes towards me, nearly invisible, arrayed in the glare of my wings of pure light.

Mingfei’s wings stroked against mine, completely unharmed, still holding on to the metal he’d torn from the jetfighters. I batted him away. He laughed.

He addressed Herzog. “Humans are really stupid aren’t they? Dr. Herzog. You have successfully evolved into a dragon after years and years of time, toil and countless human lives and yet we have achieved it in an instant.”

The newly hatched White King didn’t respond. This new so-called Dragon God had nothing to say.

“You made me sad. And when I’m sad, I want to kill. It doesn't matter to me if I kill a fellow dragon.”

“Who are you... what are you? What are you?!” Herzog hissed, trembling in fear and pain.

Mingfei's wings stroked the air. “I’m Zero... didn’t I tell you? As for who I am, you should be able to guess.”

“It’s you! It’s you! It’s you! You... you are him!” He pointed his clawed finger screaming with disbelief.

I’d never seen a dragon so cringing and pathetic. Was this really the White King? I turned to ‘Mingfei’, happy to finally have had a mystery unlocked in the end. No wonder I preferred him over all. It was only logical. His voice in my head was like a booming church bell.

“You are such a great existence...” I whispered to him.

“And yet you still reject my touch.” He replied.

I grinned at him.

Herzog was beside himself in shock and disbelief. “I was so close to the world’s ultimate power!”

Lu finally grew irritated. “What you call power is a pathetic imitation. At any rate... at least you’ve dressed well for your funeral.”

Herzog stopped yelling a moment to stare in shock.

Mingfei's voice dripped with derision. “Isn’t it your funeral tonight? You didn’t think you were going to leave here alive did you?” Mingfei looked into the sky. “This moonlit night is very suitable for burying a king. The rise and fall of a God in one night. Unprecedented.”

Herzog beat his wings, writhing and seething with anger. “I can’t believe it! So many years! So many years to get here and in the end, who do I meet but YOU! You are DEAD! You! LONG AGO! DEAD!”

Mingfei snorted. “You rebel against reality, but there is only one here who can truly change what’s real and what’s not. You exist only by her permission,” Mingfei chuckled.

“What are you saying...? I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Mingfei folded his arms across his chest. “You made a mistake. You offended someone who you shouldn’t have, Herzog.”

The newly hatched White King turned to me. He opened his mouth at me and directed a powerful soul skill. Royal Fire. 

Mingfei looked at me with a confident smile. The flames only reached half way before Mingfei spoke. “Canceled.”

The flames, as powerful as a nuclear bomb, dissipated.

Herzog was taken aback. He tried another. “Wind Lord’s Stare!” A powerful tempest swirled in front of me. “Cancel...” said Mingfei. It died before arriving.

Scorch! Canceled!

Glacier! Canceled!

Majesty! Canceled!

I tilted my head at him. “Are you showing off?”

Mingfei shrugged. “I know that if I used my Soul Skills they wouldn’t be effective against him either. We cancel each other out. You can end him with a word and yet you don’t do it.”

I turned away from him momentarily.

He took the two pieces of metal fragments he carried in his claws and in a moment they melted. He molded them into the form of a large sword. 

The swords called The Seven Deadly Sins were forged after the death of the White King to kill the four dragon lords. They would not be effective against the White King.

But this one that Lu Mingfei created was specific for this opponent. He let out a roar and charged forward, Chisei and Zihang flying after him. The legion of death Servitors joined the fray.

To the people on the ground, it sounded like a horrific storm of strong wind and thunder. Dragons were always mistaken for forces of nature and this was no exception. Every time Mingfei clashed with the White king, they spit fire and lightning and roiled the clouds.

Powerful surges energy made for an unnatural display of an aurora in the sky and the sound generated was enough to shake the foundations of the buildings still standing, knocking out what power still remained in the city. 

Herzog spewed jagged forks lightning from his mouth, stunning the Servitor legion, but stopped to grip the blade of Mingfei before it could split his skull. He wrapped his serpent's body around him and raked his claws across his chest. 

Chisei collided with the White King Herzog’s back, digging in his claws. Herzog whirled on him, slashing him across the face.

Chu Zihang slammed his elbow into his jaw at full speed, heat blasting like a furnace. They tumbled, screaming towards Tokyo Bay. Mingfei said a word and a frigid wind began turning the sea waves into jagged peaks of ice. 

Chu Zihang let go, preferring not to land on it, but Chisei zoomed by, tackled Herzog and held on, smacking hard enough onto the cold surface to crack it.

Their hot blood sizzled on the frozen ocean as they separated, facing one another. They were all wounded and bleeding. Herzog held his hand to his throat, forcing it to heal shut. When he looked at the wounds sustained by Chisei, Zihang and Mingfei however, he began to laugh.

“So you’re not invulnerable either! You only have the shape of kings and emperors but you are FAKE! If you were complete, I would be dead!”

“True... none of us are complete.” Mingfei said. “But I have the heart of a dragon, while you... You only have the heart of a man no matter how much blood you drink.” Mingfei sneered.

“You are a great creature and I am also an equally great creature.  Why are we fighting each other?” He slithered across the ice toward him.

Suddenly I looked up at a bright form that was like a star as it began to move up from the horizon. I gasped in realization and sent a silent command to Zihang and Chisei to keep quiet. The fight was over. Herzog had lost.

“We can share this world. There is still the Wind King that needs defeating not to mention the rest of humanity and the Hybrids.”

“Share the throne with you?” Mingfei asked.

“Humans and Dragons are ants to us...” He said. “You are the only thing in this world with any value.” Herzog kept his eyes on Mingfei, looking for any signs of weakness.

“You are nothing but a maggot! How dare you ask me to share a throne with you!” Mingfei charged forward. The blade he had created impaled Herzog as if he had no bones.

Herzog screamed and hooked his claws into Mingfei’s chest but Mingfei beat his wings and took Herzog with him into the sky. The dragon king bit him over and over. Lu took the punishment, soaring ever higher. 

“Doctor, you don’t know dragons at all. There are no true alliances without coercion. Dragons fight endlessly! I will die before I align with you!” He sank his fangs into Herzog’s neck and continued to drag him into the sky like a leopard making off with its prey. Herzog screeched. The atmosphere became cold and thin as they rose beyond an altitude where flight was possible.

Lu Mingfei’s pupils began to dim. 

Sensing his ebbing strength, my heart sank and beat my wings, making a little mournful circle below.

Gasping for air, Herzog wrestled the sword from Mingfei’s weakening grip and chopped his wings off with it. He heaved his tail to free himself. Mingfei fell.

I soared to him and caught him in my arms. Calling my two other soldiers, we soared away form Herzog a good distance. Mingfei smiled at me. 

“Hold me up so I can see... Meixiu...”

I halted my flight and turned him back to face where we came. Herzog was staring at us in midair, hovering. He had a confused, puzzled look on his face.

Something bright like a meteor plunged from the sky and struck him directly. Followed by five more. There were, not one, but six swords of Damocles that were released from the space kinetic weapon, the bright star I saw moving across the sky.

I wasn’t sure how, but Mingfei had manipulated things so that the sword didn’t fall on Chisei and me. While we were unconscious in our cocoons, the satellite carrying the swords had begun to complete another revolution around the earth. Mingfei had waited until the right time to put Herzog in the line of fire.

The metal rods melted in the heat of re-entry and disintegrated into a hot rain that inflamed the atmosphere and turned it red. The swarm of space debris engulfed Herzog in pure fire and tore his body apart.

The molten hailstorm hit the ice sea, prompting great geysers to erupt into the air. The bright bits of metal continued to glow as they sank and put boiling water under the ice. The frozen water cracked and burst with the pressure of the steam. Herzog’s ravaged corpse hit the half frozen, half boiling water and shattered.

After several seconds, nothing further happened. Bright debris continued to streak across the sky as I looked down at the bloody young man in my arms. He raised one hand to my face.

“Ouroboros... always on the sidelines...” he chuckled.

I stayed silent. A power like mine was not to be wielded lightly. Not even by a goddess. I turned my eyes to the horizon far beyond Japan.

Mingfei’s smile dimmed. “Really? That guy?”

“Were it not for interference, he wouldn’t have died.” I closed my eyes, gasping with the effort. “By turning back this small injustice… Herzog will be completely erased.”

[babywarg]

Drpepperony Prompt: What if Pepper went with Tony through the portal and followed them to the donut ship. Carefully soothing Stephen after his torture.

Aaaa I’m sorry, I couldn’t follow the prompt exactly! But it sparked an idea and I had to run with it. I will do my best to be more faithful to your other prompt 💗

This is actually pepperony, potentially pre-drpepperony. And Pepper didn’t join Tony and Peter on the donut ship on the get-go, but instead found a way to track them down.

This AU is set after Tony and Stephen agree to head to Titan; imagines Stephen didn’t recover as quickly from Ebony Maw’s interrogation as he did in IW.

Also, imagines the Rescue armor’s initial AI to be TADASHI. Because of Big Hero 6 and Tadashi’s affinity for healing tech 😆

***

Rescue

She didn’t have much time left.

“Power down to 20%,” the gentle voice that called itself TADASHI said with muted urgency into her ear.

Dread flooded into her.

But the only words that occurred to her were:

Keep going.

Tony was out there. Tony needed her.

Tony had built her a goddamn suit so she could use it to fly across space in order to save people in distress.

And if she was going to die trying to save one person - it would be the person who made the suit. The person she could not live without.

Despite her condition, no way she was leaving her fiancé to die out in space alone.

She couldn’t have lived with the knowledge of not even having tried.

 ***

She was only down to 10% when the Q-ship finally came into her field of vision.

The Q-ship. Where Tony’s homing signal was located.

She was laughing in relief, when she got the first clear audio transmission from Tony. And it yelled into her ear:

“What the hell do you think you’re doing??”

She grimaced, replied, “Saving you, you inconsiderate jerk! What, you thought I was going to sit around waiting for you when I have this awesome suit?”

“That awesome suit is truly awesome, honey, but it’s not built for long-distance space travel. We’re billions of miles away, Pep, how did you even - “

Pepper smirked. “I guess you forgot. Stark Industries was developing warp technology for our space exploration arm. It was highly experimental, but our head of research, Dr. Chua, helped me out with a portable version. She said it would either work or I would disintegrate into space dust.” Pepper chuckled mirthlessly. “Guess it worked.”

There was a tense silence, then a chuckle on the other end of the line.

“You’re a marvel,” she heard. “But even if it worked, it can only work once. It’ll need an enormous amount of energy. More energy than I’ve packed into your suit.”

And barely a second after that, she heard TADASHI’s voice again:

“Power down to 5%. Some features will be disabled. Please recharge immediately.”

One of the features that was disabled appeared to be the thrusters.

“Tony,” she breathed into the comms, “my power’s out. I can’t - I can’t move.”

“Wait there, honey. Wait.” These were the last clear words that Pepper heard, before the lack of power disrupted the line.

The words were becoming garbled, but Pepper thought she could hear two other voices along with Tony’s - a young boy’s, and another man’s.

Not for the first time, Pepper thought about what she might find, as she followed Tony’s homing signal. Who was he with? Aliens, maybe? Human-sounding aliens, who meant her and Tony harm?

But she pushed such bleak thoughts out of her head. She focused on the best-case scenario. Tony was around. Tony was alive, and safe, and coming for her.

That was why she was completely blindsided when a round golden portal opened up and swallowed her whole.

  ***

She opened her eyes as soon as she felt the back of her armor strike metal.

The golden portal had vanished. She was no longer in space.

She was on her back on the floor of what appeared the be the Q-ship.

Her suit had decided the air inside he ship was safe to breathe, so the nanobots that made up her faceplate dissolved.

In a heartbeat, Tony was kneeling beside her, in the camo outfit he had worn to their jogging session at the park, that morning.

She reached up to touch his face, and Tony grasped her armored hand.

Tony was here. He was safe. Unhurt.

There was also a young boy here. Also unhurt. He knelt beside her, on the other side.

“H-hi…Ms. Potts,” he greeted shyly, raising one hand. “I’m Peter. And uh…” He pointed to something at the other end of the room. “…that’s Doctor Strange.”

There was a person sitting up against a wall of the spaceship. A human. A man.

The man who had appeared to her and Tony at the park earlier that day.

His cloudy blue eyes conveyed pain to her. From where Pepper lay, it looked like he was laboring to breathe.

Pepper sat up immediately.

“Is he all right?” she asked.

“He is in shock,” TADASHI answered. “His physiology reflects signs of torture. His adrenaline is up and his blood pressure is dangerously low.”

No one else could have heard that. Pepper decided not to waste any more time.

She rushed to his side, grasped his wrists.

His hands were badly scarred and shaking. Was this from the torture?

“Look at me,” she commanded.

He obeyed.

She wasn’t completely aware of how her armor worked yet, but she had a firm grip on the basics.

“Initiating First Aid protocol,” TADASHI announced.

Tiny needles emerged from the palms of her armor, sank into Doctor Strange’s skin.

Strange grunted in pain.

It’s going to be okay, Pepper’s eyes said to him.

He held her gaze, and seemed to nod, as if he understood.

In a matter of seconds, TADASHI’s First Aid protocol had flooded him with the necessary stabilizing drugs. Strange leaned back and breathed a long, shuddering sigh, as the medicine swiftly took effect.

 ***

As Strange recovered, Tony took Pepper aside and explained as much as he could:

There was an entity called Thanos. He was after six things called the Infinity Stones. Strange was the holder of one of those Stones - it was magically sealed inside the necklace around his neck.

Because Thanos’ lieutenant, the pilot of the Q-ship, couldn’t get the stone, he got Strange instead. Tony and Peter Parker (“the Kid,” as he had been affectionately dubbed) had followed Strange and his abductor into the Q-ship (the “donut ship,” as Tony so lovingly called it).

They had just defeated the lieutenant and were thinking of what to do next. Having Pepper suddenly drop in on them was certainly not something they’d expected to factor in.

“I couldn’t come get you because my suit wasn’t made for space travel, either,” Tony sheepishly admitted. “Neither was his.” He pointed to Peter, who was worriedly hovering over Doctor Strange, whose eyes were closed as he sat slumped against the wall.

“You’re saying…he was the one who picked me up?” she asked. “In his condition?”

Tony nodded. Strange could open portals to apparently anywhere, he disclosed. It was easy for him.

“Tony,” Pepper said slowly, sternly, “if he could open a portal to anywhere, why didn’t you have him portal you back to me as soon as you were out of danger?”

Tony floundered for an answer. In the end he decided on making light of it: “Is this still about the restaurant reservation we had to postpone? Are you still mad about that?”

Pepper shut her eyes tight. No, no, she wasn’t going to lose her cool in this faraway place. Even if her fiancé had the uncanny ability to push all her buttons at the worst possible times.

“Please don’t tell me you actually want to be here,” she said dejectedly. “Please don’t tell me you have a plan.”

“I do, as a matter of fact, have a plan,” he answered, downcast. “But…I don’t think I should tell you. I don’t want to make you any more mad at me than you already are.”

She had a myriad of reactions to this. The first was getting downright angry. At feeling like she was facing a child, instead of a life partner from whom she needed and deserved only the truth.

The second was to feel alone. Even if she knew she shouldn’t.

There was so much Tony didn’t know. So much that she hadn’t said.

So much she was keeping to herself.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said quietly, holding back tears, in spite of herself. “Okay? I’m here now. I’m coming with you. Wherever you’re going. If it’s back to Earth or anywhere else, I won’t leave you.”

“No.”

The word didn’t come from Tony. Or from the Kid.

It came from Strange.

He was awake. Fully conscious. Still a little weak, but it seemed the nanobots had finished dealing with the worst of it.

“No?” Pepper frowned. “I’m sorry, has anyone asked for your opinion?”

“You can’t come with us,” Strange stressed between hard breaths. “Your armor is already severely compromised. You won’t survive a confrontation, if one will arise.”

“I can,” Pepper quietly countered, stepping up closer to Strange. “My armor may not be built for more than this, but I am.” She turned to Tony. “And you can fix my suit…right?”

“Honey,” Tony bleakly answered, “I have nothing to fix it with. All this is alien tech. Even if the Kid and I put our heads together, we may not have enough time to figure out which of this is compatible with Earth tech.”

“She must be back on Earth before this ship reaches its destination,” Strange said.

“Finally, Doc, something we agree on,” Tony snorted. “If you got her here from space via magic…you can magic her back to Earth, right?”

Strange nodded.

Pepper approached Strange, crouched down to face him.

She could sense his sincerity in wanting her safe. “I’ll be fine,” she assured him.

“You have to be,” he said to her gently. “Not just for yourself. Or him.”

This gave her pause.

She suddenly understood.

“You know,” she whispered, “don’t you?”

“Know what?” Tony demanded, stepping up closer to them.

It’s not my place to tell, the look in Strange’s eyes said.

Both Tony and Pepper understood it right away. And it fascinated Pepper.

Strange didn’t even need to speak. Before now, she thought only she and Tony had such a connection…

And theirs had been cultivated through years of fights, misunderstandings and awkward apologies.

This guy…this guy just appeared in a park in New York.

Took one look at them, and dragged them all into something that went way over their heads.

And told her, without saying a word, that it was time to let go of a secret.

“Tony,” she said after taking a long, deep breath, “I’m pregnant.”

 ***

This set off a full-blown anxiety attack in Tony. It took several minutes of him rambling and trying to even out the rhythm of his breathing again, before they could resume a proper conversation.

Pepper had said just earlier that day that she wasn’t pregnant. She had said.

“I wanted to keep it secret until after the wedding,” she confessed. “I knew you’d short circuit. Like you’re doing now. And nothing’s going to get done.”

“But it’s me,” Tony argued miserably. “It’s us.”

I’m sorry, her entire body said to him. And he accepted it. He would forgive her anything.

And, in the end, it was good news. The best. He wrapped the woman he loved in his arms and tried to tell himself this.

No way in hell was he letting the universe end now.

“I’ll send her back,” Strange assured him. “And the Kid, too.”

Strange speaking up seemed to calm him down a bit more, for which Pepper was grateful.

“No, the Kid stays!” the Kid objected. “Please, Mr. Stark. We’ve come this far.”

There was a touch of worry in Strange’s face as he heard Peter talk. He knew something else about Peter Parker, Pepper could see it - she just couldn’t tell what it was.

Pepper immediately recognized that It was weird, how well she could read him, and vice versa. They had only known each other for a few minutes.

And she knew that it mattered that Strange didn’t override Peter’s objection. Tony might have put up a fight, but Strange was the one opening the portal back to Earth - and he said the Kid could stay.

“If you can send me back, you can do the same to all three of you,” Pepper said to Strange. “Come back safe. I want to owe you for his life.”

He nodded, looking straight into her eyes with a promise:

I’ll send him home to you and your child. You have my word.

[kusunogatari]

[ Frozen Flames and Shadowed Lights || Chapter Twelve ] [ @yukaikokoro @abyssaldespair ] [ Uchiha Obito, Suigin Ryū, Uchiha Madara, Hatake Kakashi, Kottakawa Kumiko, Raziya ] [ Verse: Divine Light ] [ Previous || Next ]

“All right...remember, we need to try and catch them by surprise. Our top priority is finding Ryū and getting the hells out of here,” Kakashi murmurs as Kumiko finishes opening the crack into the cavern. Blade drawn, he pushes his meager senses to their limit.

“Easier said than done, I’d imagine,” she replies softly. “They’ve surely sealed her ven with a rite. Sensing her through that will be nigh on impossible, as it’s extremely suppressed. We could trip over her before we’d sense her.”

“She’s under a what, now?”

Kumiko shoots him a disbelieving glance. “...a blood rite. It’s the only way to disable an el’ven’s powers. Each element has their own sigil, but the process is the same. In short, you combine the sealed and the sealer’s blood, and draw the sealer’s patron Elemental’s sigil somewhere on the sealed’s body...and you’ve got yourself a sealed el’ven. They can’t manually manipulate their ven, inside or out. You can’t stop the flow of ven altogether or the sealed person would die. It’s an essential system, like...the flow of your blood. So you just take away their ability to connect it to their will. It was a big factor in the civil war between the el’ven and the el’tahl.”

The pair of them lingering in their makeshift entryway, Kakashi pauses. This...seems important to know before they try to get Ryū out. “Really…? How so? El’tahl can’t use ven.”

“No...but you technically don’t need to in order to create a sigil. Technically everyone has at least some ven in their body. But el’tahl can’t connect with it, and their amount is always very low compared to someone el’ven. But there’s enough in their blood to create the sigils. Once they discovered the practice, they used it against us in the war.”

“But...you said something about a patron Elemental. Do el’tahl have those…?”

“Technically no...but a workaround turned out to be using the sealed’s opposing Elemental. For example, I’m of ice: child of water and air. If an el’tahl wanted to seal me, they only needed to use Orenium’s sigil, the child of earth and fire. My ‘opposite’.”

Kakashi sighs. “...sounds like a major pain.”

“It’s highly frowned upon now, of course. But I’m certain they’ll have her sealed, or she’d have escaped through a portal of her own long ago.” Glancing around, Kumiko adds, “And I’m sure this place is a maze of tunnels and dead-ends. And we still don’t know how many others are here.”

“I saw at least one through the barrier.”

“Really?”

“Yeah...and I don’t think it was the one who took her. This one felt…” Kakashi shifts, clearly discomforted. “...dangerous, for lack of a better word.”

“So, at least two...I’d have guessed as much. I’d like to hope they’ve kept to small numbers to avoid a need for supplies and risk of exposure. But...we can’t afford to assume anything.”

“Then what’s the plan? I’m not sure splitting up is a good idea.”

“No...we need to stick together. No offense, but against a well-practiced el’ven, let alone one of a Tenebreon’s level, you’d be in trouble on your own. It will make us slower, but...better slow than dead.”

“Agreed,” he replies gravely. “...so once we find her, what do we do about this...seal?”

“There are only two ways to undo a blood rite. Have the one who placed it revert it...or kill them. Their blood in the seal then becomes inert, and it fails.”

“...so not only do we need to find out who sealed her...but also either kill them, or somehow ask them nicely to take it off?”

Drawing her sword with a whisper from its sheath, Kumiko replies, “I’m afraid so. It’s either that...or she remains unable to use her ven until they die some other way. And I’m sure you know el’ven are long-lived.”

“...yeah, I do. Would have been nice to know this beforehand.”

“Sorry...I thought you’d know about rites. They’re a pretty big deal.”

“Most of this trip has been ‘learning as I go’, so...can’t really blame you.”

“...I’ll focus on trying to sense ven. You focus on what you can hear, see...smell, if you have to. That should leave us as prepared as we can be. Hopefully they think we’re dead after that avalanche and won’t bother trying to hide. Are you good at repressing your ven?”

“Fairly. It’s not very strong to begin with,” Kakashi replies dryly, doing his best to dim his aura.

Kumiko just nods as she does the same, cautiously stepping out of the crack she’s carved. The cavern is surprisingly warm, lit with a plethora of slow-burning candles. Wordlessly, she signs that there’s nothing she can sense to their left, toward the barrier. But she does indeed feel two signatures of ven to their right, one further in than the other.

Acknowledging her info, Kakashi follows, keeping his ears perked and eyes scanning the environment. By now, he’s honestly lost track of how many weeks they’ve been gone. The thought of Ryū being stuck in this place for that long, let alone with the company she’s keeping and whatever plot they have in store for her...well, it upsets him at the very least.

But there will be time for temper later. For now, he needs to stay calm. While he hardly expects it to go so smoothly...he can’t help but hope they can find her, slip back out...and then deal with whoever dared leave their mark on her.

At least if there are only two...it shouldn’t take much guesswork to figure out which is which.

...it’s then just a matter of managing to kill them.

Kakashi is hardly adverse to slaying another human. He’s done it countless times before, be it on a contract during his years as a hunter, or to protect himself while on the road. But this is the first time he’s had any need to face someone of a Tenebreon mage’s level. True, he’s not alone...but he knows he’s the weak link here. Skilled in the sword as he may be, a duel of ven is one he’s sorely outmatched in with most opponents...let alone one as destructive and deadly as a Tenebreon.

So for now, he tries not to think about that part. Their first priority is Ryū. The rest...well, he’ll cross that bridge when they come to it.

The pair of them creep along silently on the soles of their boots, cautiously inspecting any branching path they encounter. Any left dark Kakashi illuminates with a small ball of flame above a palm. Most lead nowhere. And to mark their way, Kumiko leaves tiny, hopefully-unnoticeable icicles above any route they’ve taken that proved fruitless.

This place is maze-like enough without worrying about getting turned around.

At one point they freeze, Kumiko holding out an arm as an echoing voice reaches them. Unfortunately, with so many places for it to bounce and travel, it’s nearly impossible to tell where precisely it’s coming from. But Kumiko pantomimes a fair distance yet as the other mage replies.

That one, however, sounds much closer.

Grip tight on the hilt of his blade, Kakashi stares down the tunnel, heart hammering seemingly just below the flap of his throat. He hasn’t been this nervous in...well, a very long time.

“Why is it that you meddling types always forget to check behind you…?”

Wheeling around, the pair of them find an open portal to their rear. And standing just within it, arms crossed and expression almost bored, is one of the Tenebreon mages: one of a barrel chest and lion’s mane.

Unable to do much more than stare, Kakashi immediately notices the mismatched eyes not unlike his own. One of red, and one of violet.

...what?

He in turn eyes them openly. “Is this really all that’s come looking for the supposed last light mage? An untested glacial representative, and...a weakling half-breed.” The gaze turns scornful. “...and with what looks to be stolen el’ven flesh. Disgusting.”

“Is that judgment coming from someone with as much conflict in their appearance as me?” Kakashi counters. “I may not know much about the el’ven...but one thing I do know is that everyone gets one element. So where’d your second come from?”

“I’ve no reason or want to bother explaining it to you,” their foe rebukes, tone aloof. “It matters little, anyway. You won’t be leaving this cavern alive. Tobi!”

Behind them, a masked man - the one from the Summit ball - blocks the way forward, cutting off their only other route.

Trapped.

“Where is the Luxerian disciple?” Kumiko demands, posture unwavering.

“Ask whatever questions you like: you’ll receive no answers. She will remain here until her purpose is served.”

“Is it true…? You seek the thirteenth?”

At that, the man’s brows lift. “...oh? And where did you hear that…? Did that Nori fool let you loosen his tongue? I should have killed him when I had the chance...but it matters little. If all your precious Summit sees fit to send is the pair of you...then it’s clear I won’t have any further interruptions once I reduce the pair of you to dust.”

“You’d risk the undoing of everything just for a chance at a forced peace?!” Kumiko bares her teeth in a snarl. “You’re just another faithless coward who’d rather take the easy way out.”

“Is this really the time to be taunting me, glacial mage? You’ve still got your spots: I’m not about to take a threat from you seriously.”

“Appearances can be deceiving. I’m stronger than I look.”

Glancing to his companion, Kakashi catches her eye, and in a brief look, conveys a plan. They’ll likely only have one shot. But at least with Ryū missing, they can’t flee so easily. They’ll have to fetch her first.

Until then...it’s time to try fighting.

With a shift of his weight, Kakashi spins to face the man behind them as Kumiko makes to strike the one at their fore. Ice rises up from beneath the stone, cracking and forming deadly spikes that race toward the portal. It closes, her element passing harmlessly before she turns and blocks an attempted grab, her foe tearing open another hole in space.

Kakashi, on the other hand, relies fully on his blade. Twisting and slashing with all the speed and complexity he can muster, he funnels his drive into every strike. And all the while, his opponent dodges with seemingly incorporeal ease. At times he swears the steel passes right through him!

“Where is she?” he growls, wondering if this one might be a bit more vocal. But all he receives is tense silence. Something tells him that - in his own way - this one is just as driven as he is...yet it feels different than the obvious want of power his companion boasts. This feels...personal.

Which only serves to confuse Kakashi further.

Trying to keep one ear tuned in case Kumiko needs his help, Kakashi fights on, his blows becoming more desperate. “No matter where you take her...no matter where you run...I’ll follow. I won’t stop until she’s back where she belongs…! She’s not some tool for your end! I’ll kill you for treating her like a gods-damned broodmare for whatever the hells you think you’re going to achieve!”

As his temper reaches a tipping point, Kakashi feels a desperate burning in his left eye, wide and manic. Unable to fight fire’s fueling by his anger, he unleashes a torrent of flame from a palm as he lets his sword fall to the wayside. Hungry and eager, the tongues lick and reach for his foe.

But with a wave of his own hands, the enemy mage easily diverts them...something a Tenebreon disciple shouldn’t be so adept with. Remembering the other’s dual-colored eyes, Kakashi can’t help but wonder if this one, too, boasts two elements.

“Cursed words...cursed! To think a mor selfish enough to take a second blessing...what greed, what insolence! A vile mor...I’ll tear his head from his shoulders myself for such a blatant disregard for the balance!”

Suigin’s words, recalled in his mind, fit together more pieces. This must be what she and that Nori bastard spoke of: someone with two elements in one body. But how?!

“Impressive you can even use ven, given the small token of flesh you bear.” Speaking at last, the second mage stares him down, visage hidden by his mask. “Stolen from the still-warm corpse of your friend, was it…?”

At that, Kakashi feels his chest echo with a flash of cold. “...how do you know about that?”

“I know more than that, Kakashi. Enough to realize that you are nowhere near strong enough to take her back. You will fail...and she will remain here.”

That grits the hunter’s teeth. “You have no right -!”

“It is not a matter of rights. Think you can return her? Prove it. Prove to me that you’re strong enough. I took her from you once...I can do so again.”

He knows it’s a taunt. It’s plain as day. But Kakashi lets himself fall for it, hook line and sinker. A cry tears his throat as he makes to strike, easily dodged. Alternating between fire and steel, he flails in desperation for just one blow -!

“Kakashi!”

At the frantic tone, Kakashi feels his heart leap.

Ryū!

Just as drawn to the voice, the one called Tobi turns too.

And that’s when he finds his opening.

Barely managing to twist his last attempt, Kakashi - rather than a slash - slaps the flat side of his blade against the mask of his enemy. With a clatter, it shatters into countless pieces as he’s stunned and stumbles aside.

“Tobi -?!”

Heaving for breath, Kakashi nonetheless stills as Ryū calls again...this time for the man he was fighting. But -? He -?

A hand at his face as a cut from stray porcelain bleeds sluggishly, Tobi leans heavily against a wall. Further down the tunnel, Ryū stares with obvious shock...tinged with concern. Her gaze then flickers to Kakashi, just as desperate.

But Kakashi doesn’t see it. He’s staring at his foe.

“...Obito…?”

Turning and panting, another pair of ruby and amethyst eyes meet Kakashi’s. He looks startled, almost...dazed. A gloved hand falls away, revealing the mottled skin: scarred over from obvious burns.

But there’s no mistaking it. That...that is Obito. But he’s...he’s dead. He watched the light leave his remaining eye after that sword buried through his back. Kakashi could see the cremating fires as he and Rin fled with Ryū from the city that night. The Uchiha always burn their dead. And Obito, without a doubt, was -

Too shocked to react further, Kakashi jumps as the other mage teleports beside his companion, teeth bared in a hiss. “Enough. We retreat. Now.”

A hand drags Ryū to his side, ignoring her cry of surprise and pain at his hold. Obito, still stunned, staggers forward as another portal opens. Beyond, Kakashi can see marshy swampland and the edge of a city.

“No!”

Behind him, limping, Kumiko tries to dash forward and give chase. But as the trio pass through and the door closes, she collapses to the floor of the cavern.

Silence.

With a slow dissolving of his joints, Kakashi falls to his knees, sword clattering against the stone. Too many things swirl within his mind, making his skull feel full to the point of bursting. Obito...Obito is -?

“Where did they go? Kakashi, did you see?!”

He doesn’t answer, staring at nothing.

“Kakashi!”

“...he’s alive, but...she’s gone. I…?”

Crossing the gap between them with furrowed brows, Kumiko searches his face. “What?”

“...it’s not possible…”

“Kakashi, snap out of -!”

“It had to be a trick. Something to unsettle me. I -?”

With a harsh report in the dead air of the cave, Kumiko’s hand slaps against the skin of Kakashi’s cheek. His head reels back, eyes widening and springing with tears at the sudden sting. “What -?!”

“Whatever the hells took over your mind, banish it!” she barks, her hand then moving to hold his shoulder as she stares at him unwaveringly. “You’re speaking nonsense, Kakashi! What in the twelve hells happened? One moment I was fighting the twice-blessed, and then -?”

“It was Obito.”

“...what?”

“The other mage. He had the same eyes. One red, one purple. But it...it was Obito.”

“...that’s not possible. The boy who died…? Gave you his eye?”

A slow nod. “...I’d know that face. Aged or not, it was him. I’ve no doubt.”

“...but...he died as a boy. Even a Tenebreon mage can’t bring back the dead on their own, Kakashi.”

A hand lifts to cradle his brow, trying to think. “...he had a Tenebreon eye. As did his partner. And he...he knew things. From before.”

“...could Ryū have told him?”

“It’s possible, but...Kumiko, I know what I saw. It’s why I...why I froze. The disbelief stole my mind. I...I’m sorry. I let this happen…”

“But why did they leave? The mage I was fighting, he had the upper hand - he’d wounded me! Why flee? Did you overpower the -? Er...Obito?”

“...I broke his mask. At first I thought that’s what stunned him, but...I spoke his name. And he looked at me strangely. Like it...woke something in him.”

Kumiko’s eyes widen. “...maybe he remembered you…?”

“...I don’t know.”

Sighing, Kumiko shifts to sit beside him. “...let’s put together what we know. Obito, your friend, is alive...and is one of two twice-blessed we now know of. Both of them have an eye of fire, and an eye of darkness. His companion is clearly far older. What if they...exchanged eyes?”

“...even if the other mage gave him the Tenebreon eye, Obito only had one left.” Kakashi points to his face. “...I have the other. The other igni eye would have to have come from someone else.”

“...then we can assume he either got the eye elsewhere...or already had it. But how can they both have two elements…? That’s impossible, I’ve never heard of that happening. Let alone with two elements that far apart. Fire is a child of light, darkness’ mirror!”

“...how does one get their element?”

“You’re born with it. Depending on your family tree, you can either have a parent’s element, or - if they’re the right tiers - a combination of the two. Wind and water could birth the same, or ice.”

“...but what about at the beginning?”

“...you mean the first blessed? It was a gift directly from the Elementals themselves. But Kakashi...the Elementals fled over a century ago, when war broke out after the coup. That’s not possible.”

“...is it?” he replies, tone dark. “...think about it. You were Embraced. No one has been since the coup, right? Or so we’re told? What if...Tenebreos blessed them? Could it be done remotely? Like your Embrace?”

At the suggestion, Kumiko’s jaw drops almost comically, if not for the circumstances. “...I...I don’t know. But...why would Tenebreos bless someone already blessed…? Maybe...maybe they stole the eyes from a Tenebreon mage.”

“You told me yourself: my ven is weak because I’m a vom berech: a halfling created rather than born. Surely if they took eyes from someone else, their Tenebreon ven would be weak. But they were both clearly using it with no limit or inhibition. Something’s fishy here, Kumiko...and it would explain why Suigin was so upset. Stealing or receiving ven from someone else wouldn’t make you twice-blessed. What if…” Kakashi’s posture shifts, more forward. “...what if Tenebreos blessed the other mage...and helped him revive Obito?”

“...why would they do that?”

“...I was hoping you’d have an idea. I’m a stranger to most of this, remember?”

Kumiko goes quiet, thinking. “...Tenebreos is the Elemental of darkness. Death, disease, matter...and some say, chaos to Luxeria’s order. Maybe this entire plot was their doing. Remember the coup...? It was born mostly out of spite by the Tenebreon mages. For ages they were targeted as “evil”, hunted for being harbingers of death despite their necessity. Maybe...Tenebreos wants revenge for their slaughtered mages. Maybe they’re looking for a rebirth of chaos, just as the world was righting itself.”

“By bringing about the thirteenth?”

“...I don’t know. I feel like there’s still something we’re missing. This is all just conjecture and guesswork at this point. But something tells me we’re on the right path.”

After a pause, Kakashi gives a humorless scoff. “...right. The path I just brought to a dead end. I let them escape...and Twelve know where they’ve gone.”

“...did you see anything through the portal? Anything that might help us find them?”

“...it looked like...marshland. Water, muck, bowing trees. And maybe a city of some kind. It was gone so quickly…”

“No, no - that’s a start.” Mulling that over, Kumiko then offers, “...we should return to Boralis. Regroup. Maybe someone there will have an inkling where that could be. Wherever they fell back to...it has to be somewhere they’d feel secure. They seemed confident they’d be able to take us, and keep their hideaway here. I doubt they have many backup plans, given how solidly they regarded this one.”

“...all right. Can you walk…?”

“Well enough. Besides, with the mages gone, that barrier will be too. They can’t hold it over much distance. Raziya can come in and take us straight from here back to the capital.” Struggling to her feet, Kumiko lets Kakashi bear her weight, the pair of them hobbling to the entrance as she calls her drach.

The beast wastes no time in fluttering into the cavern’s mouth, a moaning sound of concern echoing off the walls. “What happened?! Where is the lux mage?”

“We’ll recount it when we get back to Boralis. I need someone to patch me up, and...well, we need to plan our next move.”

Nodding curtly, Raziya gently helps her rider to her saddle, Kakashi climbing up behind as they streak out of the cave and back into the squall.

Yet another setback...and when they were so close…! As guilty as he feels, Kakashi does his best to shove the disappointment aside. It won’t do anything for him, now. Instead, he mulls over their conjecture, and the possible ways forward.

He wasn’t lying. This quest is one he will follow until the end. He made a promise to watch over her when he accepted Obito’s eye, and the burden Ryū’s mother gave him and Rin, both. Until he succeeds, or draws his last breath...he will follow.

...hold on, Ryū. I’m not out of this fight, yet. Don’t you dare give up…!

     Another day, another chapter! Technically finished last night buuut it was 2am, I was buggered, and I...waited until today to proofread! Then life got in the way, so here it is midafternoon :’D      BUT ENOUGH ABOUT THAT. We have PLOT DEVELOPMENT! The (very obvious) secret is out: Tobi is Obito! And he seems...off somehow. We also have some guesswork on Kumiko and Kakashi’s part about what EXACTLY is going on, and why. But there’s only one way to know for sure...they’re gonna have to do...MORE TRAVELING!      Because there isn’t enough of that in this fic, right? :’D      There’s...probably more to say but I’m hella scatterbrained today so that’s all the commentary for now. Hoping to start C13 sometime today, we’ll see how more Life goes. Cuz right now it’s kinda kicking my butt, but what else is new :’D      Anywhoozle, thankies for reading, and I’ll get the next part out soon!

[kamikazeyo-blog]

Eye of The Storm

"This is the last bottle of fresh water,sir."

Dazai rubbed his eyes,"How long did I sleep?"

"An hour and 14 minutes."

"How close are we to our destination?"

"About 17 kilometers."

"It looks like I'm going to die here."Dazai unscrews the top of the bottle, moistened his chapped lips with a cotton swab, "Checked the pain index of my dehydrated death."

"The system doesn't recommend that, sir."

"Fine,I'm kidding. Give me the coordinates of the nearest convoy."

"The storm has affected the signal."

"It seems that I have to do all the things alone."standing up and stretching himself,with the fine sand fell from his body,Dazai looks up at the dark sky and strokes the handlebars,"Atsushi,Can you still work on navigation?"

"At your service,sir."

"Let's go."

While engine is revving,Dazai says,"Can you play some music for me?I think I've copied a lot into your database."

"The system does not recommend this, sir."in the smooth electronic synthesis sound, the locomotive runs forward. "The contents of the system concerning suicide have been banned."

Dazai might have shrugged his shoulders if he had not been riding his bike, but now he could only curl the corners of his mouth to show his regret.

"What else do you have in your database?"

"'I'm really good ''Rudy''Life in full bloom'.Which one would you like?"

"You know what? Forget it."

"Your system has detected an increase in the production of Meradonine. Are you sad?"

Holding the brakes tight, Dazai sighs," All Right, Atsushi, just keep the navigator on, and turn off the amplifier to save power."

Voice System Disabled. Switching to text mode.

The words on the screen flashed a bright, irregular spot on his face. Dazai wipes his face with the corner of a Suntan towel around his neck, wryly pullss the corner of his mouth, spat out a mouthful of dust, and starts the locomotive again,"You know what? Let's just go back to voice."

"The system assumes that you have just experienced a very complex human struggle."

"What do you mean?"

"Unfortunately, the system does not have a specific analysis of human emotions, you need to update the installation of the decade package,sir."

Dazai smiled with pleasure."I am now penniless, how can I afford your upgrade?"

"Are we so poor already, sir?"

"You can read my account balance."

"...System records that I've reminded you whether you need this system to help you with financial management."

"If I leave it to you to manage my money, maybe my daily food will turn into tea and rice."

"The system doesn't know what you mean."

"You don't need to understand."Dazai's eyes and eyebrows droop, peripheral light glance at the top right corner of the system interface Purple Gold Full Moon, "You just need to use this voice and talk with me."

"The voice box is damaged and there are better sources in the system library. If you want, you can change the system."

Dazai rebuffed, "No, this is fine. It took me three days to tune this voice for you."

"You like this sound."

"What do you know about LIKE?"

"I don't know."

"Then change the subject."

"Good News. We're about a kilometer from our destination."

 It takes about four or five hours to repair the thrusters, but the last of the fresh water is finally at an end.

Dazai sits down with his face in the dirt against the locomotive,"Atsushi,give me some music."

"'I'm really good ''Rudy''Life in full bloom'.Which one would you like?"

"Is that ALL? I directed over 500 songs for you."

"Once again, forbidden songs such as 'Black Friday' are not allowed to exist in the system's repository, sir."

"I'm your master, Atsushi."

"Unfortunately, your clearance is only B-level."

"Are you GONNA take my interests away from me?"

"The system doesn't think suicide is fun."

Dazai holds up a finger and shakes it back and forth, a smile at the corner of his mouth,"That's where you're wrong, Atsushi. It's much more fun to end your life with love, and to make short-lived love meaningful in the form of death than to live with nothing. You should log It in your program."

"Request failed. The system's motto is 'living as long as you're alive'. "

"Why are you still so stubborn?"

"Because I'm just an intelligent system, sir."

"……"

"Sir? The system has detected an increase in the production of Meradonine in your body. Are you sad?"

"How long till will the COMMS be back up?"

"The signal has been restored and a distress signal has been sent."

"And how much gas is there in the tank?"

"1.1 liters."

"And I need you to guide me."

"You are not advised to do so. The remaining fuel will not support your return to base."

"You can send my location in real time to Kunikida."Get back on the locomotive,Dazai twists handlebars,"We do not return to the base, let's go HOME."

"The room I rented in the lower town.We lighted up our lamps at 5.30 pm and cooked. It was a 20-step walk, and I would kick the leg of the stool every time I got up."

"I want to have coffee downstairs."

"But Mr.Dazai, downtown has been destroyed for seven years. "the electronic sound without a ripple of friendly reminds,"Because of meteorites."

 When Sakura arrived, Dazai is still polishing the car.

The dust and oil has darkened his face, which had been gradually roughened by the wind and the sun, and he looks tired and dishevelled, but even that could not conceal his peculiar look and charm.

The young girl, blushing slightly at the man's side, nearly spills her coffee, and after several deep breaths, finally summons the courage to pass the cup over, "Mr. Dazai, thank you."

Dazai smiled, politely takes a cup to drink.Caffeine helps him dispel a lot of fatigue, and then he gazes st the girl's bright eyes, "Well,never mind.It's not a big deal."

"But my grandfather told me that if Mr. Dazai hadn't gotten yourself into trouble, fixed the thrusters, and rerouted them, at least four or five dungeons would have been destroyed."

Dazai noncommittal, and drinks a coffee, turning his eyes to the farther place, "What I've done is only by the mandate."

"Mandate?"Sakura watches him bemusedly as he walks toward a tree which is not far away.

There are two steles under the tree. Dazai stands in the middle of them.

She follows curiously,"Are these... the grave of someone that you are acquainted with?"

"This is a very good friend of mine. He is the one who taught me to be a rescuer."Dazai points to one of the tablets and says.

"Your friend must be a very kind person."

Dazai smiles but doesn't answer.

The girl turns her eyes to another one, and asked softly, "How about this..."

Dazai stretches out his hand, across the cold stone slab and seven years of time, then gently strokes its surface.There are three words carved-the name of his SLEEPING MOON.

He says,"My Love."