#i like to imagine they can conjure up shields or deflect things with this arm

[wolvesandpetals]

Loki x Sylvie Songfic: Tonight my dear, the end of time. For Sylki week: Day 2: Song lyrics. @sylkiweek

Song: End of time by Lacuna Coil.

(Masterlist of my Sylki fanfiction can be found here.)

---

"You've built your life above the sin. You hold my hand before the end comes, Forgiving me, For what I've done 'till the end of days."

[[MORE]]

It's the end of the world. Or the end of this world, at least. He has left them stranded at this dying planet through a series of unfortunate accidents that could have been avoided if only he had been more careful.

Perhaps this is what he deserves for all the evil he has ever committed- the slaughter of innocents, some by his own hands, the destruction of New York- and everything he, or the version of him in the Sacred Timeline TM, is yet to do- including the events that lead to the death of his own mother.

Yes, this is a just punishment for his crimes, indeed.

There is a loud boom in the background that pulls him out of his contemplation and into the harsh present. Debris are falling across the purple sky, like leaves in autumn that have lost their right to leave. They fall into the ground in the distance, shattering houses and barren lands alike, and in the lake in front of them that has stilled, as if in terror. Sylvie sits motionless, the reflection of the death and destruction in her iris scaled down to a ridiculously miniscule size, as if it is insignificant.

She looks at him and offers him a tiny smile, and it is indeed insignificant, everything around them. The look in her eyes says something soft, something warm, like she sees him for who he is, like she sees his sharp edges and knows those are not the edges of a blade forged to kill, but that of a broken glass- beautiful in its entirety, but cruelly drawing out the blood of those who dare to break it.

If he believed in earthly religions, he would say the look in her eyes was like a message from Heaven, declaring the forgiveness of his sin, granted in his last moments.

She gently touches his arm.

---

"'Cause I belong to you, 'Cause I am part of you. I am dying in your arms. It's time to go, I can make it through"

He looks down at where her skin meets his. It's a simple, innocent touch, yet it speaks entire libraries worth of words in a language that he has never known before

She is very similar to him, but not an exact replica, like how a mirror flips one's silhouette and every single feature. She is similar enough for him to know what she feels, yet differs in her thoughts and actions.

Her grip grows tighter, and she reaches for his hand. She decides to fight, to change the fate of Lamentis-1, to use every bit of the magic in her to deflect the pieces of the moon, force in into a new trajectory, forge a new path for it. She intertwines their fingers until they are one, and the timelines that were forcefully bound into one start branching out again.

---

"I've come to realise, Tonight my dear The end of time Is not so far away. We cannot pray To save our lives"

They are Lokis. They survive. Even when they have no aces up their sleeves, they find the opportunity to steal one from the hands of the enemy. They are not giving up.

But in the silence of the elevator, the aura of defeat is prominent. They steal glances at each other, committing it to memory, so when the time comes to draw the last breath, it is not wasted on hatred.

There's a clenching in her stomach she cannot quite explain. It's different from her first time in his wretched prison. The fear and hatred is constant, but it is mixed with something that tastes like the salty teardrops shed during a farewell.

The collars on their necks are tight, the shackles on their hands without a key. The urge to pull a Houdini is strong, and they keep the hope that they might find a worthy assistant yet.

The door opens, revealing the path to the timekeepers, to the end of the road for them.

---

"I can feel you And I think that Everything you wanted in me Was the mirror of your dreams. But I couldn't believe what you'd say."

It has all been a lie. There never were any Timekeepers. She has done what she had set out to do, and all she has to show for is are the disembodied heads of the androids at her feet.

She doesn't know where to go from here.

He is standing in front of her, with his hands on her shoulders, his eyes on hers, his breathing uneven, leaving her heart dancing like an unruly tornado in her ribcage, making debris out of the walls she has built over the centuries.

She understands, at least a part of it. She feels it surging through her bloodstream too.

This is new for her as well, and dread accompanies the hope. Uncertain of what he would say, she stares at him, as the pruning stick finds its way into his core, and he starts fading right in front of her.

---

"As I belong to you, My flesh and blood in you. I am burning in this fire. It's time to go, I can't make it through"

She understands it fully now. While the timelines found a way to split into two, giving rise to two Lokis, they also found a way to tangle them together with this bond between them, unite them into one.

She has one good memory- the memory of him serenading her on the doomed train in Lamentis-1. When she sings, she sings "Come home".

Neither of them have a world they can call home anymore, or a place in the timelines. But her mother always told her "Home is where the heart is", and she finally knows where their hearts are.

She is going to bring him home.

Sylvie prunes herself.

---

"I'm coming home again And now I know where I belong. Reeling from my instincts 'Cause I realize I'm not alone"

She has lived in apocalypses, watched people go on with their lives unaware of the danger that would soon befall them, watched them cower together in fear as they pray for a miracle, and watched them fight each other in the vain hope of finding a safe passage out of death's jaws.

This world has no such sight.

This world is empty, dead, cold. She is all alone as far as her eyes allow her to see, the sense of loneliness amplified by the lack of her variant by her side. Something roars in the distance, something purple and dangerous and grander than she is. This is its home, its hunting ground, and she is his prey.

So is he.

She is determined to find him, to save him, to make sure neither of them is alone anymore.

---

"I've come to realise, Tonight my dear The end of time Is not so far away. We cannot pray To save our lives"

She pulls the flimsy green blanket closer, like it can shield her from the dangers around. She used to camp out in Roxxcart with stolen electronic devices and watch movies from various eras. She has seen many scenes where the hero and the heroine have a little picnic in a garden, lying on a blanket under the blue skies, feasting on delicacies.

The sky is far from blue, the patch of grass barely resembles a garden, the blanket thin, and the lack of food apparent by the growing pang of hunger in her stomach.

But the feeling in her chest is the one she imagines the heroine experiences when her hero presents her with a flower as a token of his affection.

Flowers wither and die. She has never adorned her hair with floral crowns, choosing metals instead. She prefers things which are strong, lasting.

She prefers everything he is. She prefers the daggers he conjures for her, to be used in this upcoming battle.

They are at the end of time, having run out of it. She is determined to protect him at all costs, but there's a high probability that one or both of them may not make it out of this alive.

Yet, as the end approaches, all she can think of is the possibility of a new beginning.

---

"I've come to realise, Tonight my friend The end of time It's not so far away. We cannot pray To save our lives"

The purple cloud turns green. Alioth the devourer is tamed, their magical collar wrapped tightly around its neck.

The cloud parts, making the citadel visible.

This is it. They are about to confront The one at the end of time, the puppet master.

Loki's grip on Sylvie's hand tightens.

It's time to cut the strings.

[bwemph]

Amnesia

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word count: 4,141

Summary: You and the Avengers are on a mission when you take a hit to the head, leading to amnesia. Steve and the rest of the Avengers struggle to cope as they realize it may not be temporary.

Warnings: Little angst, mild violence.

A/N: This is a fic from my old blog Purpleocity. All future fics will be posted here at bwemph :)

You let out a soft groan as you stretched and rolled over, facing Steve who lay on the bed next to you. He watched you with a loving gaze and smiled as you sleepily stared at him.

“Hello,” you said, placing a hand on his chest. He softly hummed in response and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “How long was I asleep?” you asked.

He glanced over at the clock. It was almost half past two in the afternoon. “About a half hour. Do you feel better?”

You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair, scooting closer to him. “Yeah. I’m sleepy now.” You hid your face in his chest, smiling at the way it shook as he chuckled. He touched your cheek and you looked up at him again.

His eyes held such a joy you thought he might explode. “What?  Are you okay?” you asked.

He laughed softly and pulled her into his embrace. “Yeah, I was just thinking about how much I love you.”

You hummed. “How much might that be?"

He cocked an eyebrow and looked as if he were going to make a little sarcastic comment, but the look melted and a gentle smile graced his features. "More than you can imagine.”

You bit your lip as you smiled. “I love you too.”

Steve’s chaste kiss found your lips. Your eyes fluttered shut as you returned it. You felt butterflies in your stomach and you rested a hand on his cheek before he pulled away.

“Hungry?” he asked.

You nodded. “Starved.”

“Lunch?”

“Sounds great.”

-----

You ducked as a punch was thrown at your head. You stood straight and grabbed your attacker’s arm, twisting it and then elbowing him in the side. You kicked his feet out from under him and then zapped him with your lightning, leaving him unconscious. Another HYDRA agent ran at you, brandishing a weapon. You swept his feet out from under him and electrocuted him. 

Tony flew over and shot a repulsor beam at a cluster of HYDRA agents. Not long after, Natasha sprung from the shadows and began fighting a group of three people. 

You glanced to the right and saw Steve being driven backward. He punched the agent in the stomach, then hit him across the face with his shield. The agent fell to the ground and Steve looked at you with a smile. It disappeared, sending a silent message. 

You whipped around and shocked two agents that attempted to sneak up on you. You smirked as they tensed up and fell to the ground. Steve nodded to you, his smile reappearing.

“Captain Rogers!” Thor called from nearby to catch his attention. He shot a beam of his lighting and Steve deflected it, mowing down another group of agents.

More people flooded from the base they were raiding. Arrows fell from the sky, and you guessed Clint was nearby firing them off.

“Bruce, I think this is a code green,” Natasha said over comms.

“Are you sure?” his response came. She glanced at Steve, who nodded in agreement.

“I’m sure,” she replied. Bruce didn’t respond, but they heard a nearby roar from “the other guy”.

You were pulled behind Steve’s shield as a spray of bullets came from the large group of HYDRA agents. The Avengers were far outnumbered and outgunned, but you had your hopes high.

You gave a small smile to Steve, who winked in reply. You conjured a ball of lightning to your palm, sending it into the crowd of adversaries. Several cries were heard as they fell, but it only weakened their numbers by a fraction. The Hulk showed up quickly, jumping into the chaos.

“Avengers, asse—” Steve was cut off as he was knocked off his feet from a blast of an agent’s weapon.

You startled and reached in his direction. He lay there a little disoriented. “You good?” you asked.

He gathered his wits and pushed himself back to his feet. He nodded.

“Good,” you laughed, “I thought I’d have to call Life Alert.”

He glared and raised an eyebrow at you, but your teasing ended there. The Avengers collected and ran at the HYDRA agents in front of them. You shot bolts of lightning this way and that, sending agents tumbling and unconscious. Steve’s shield bounced off several agents, and back to him. You jumped up and kicked a HYDRA goon in the chest, propelling yourself from him and landing back on your feet before you knocked out another with a bolt of electricity.

“Y/N,” Steve called, hurling his shield, which hit three people before it came to you. You caught it and threw it back to Steve with a wink.

“I got you, babe,” you flirted. He would have made a little comeback but he was startled as you zapped a soldier behind him.

You occupied yourself with three agents who started ganging up on you. You were backed into a small half circle of trees. One pulled a gun on you. You lunged for his wrist, twisting his arm behind his back. He let out a pained cry and elbowed you in the stomach. You held your abdomen and stumbled backwards.

You regained yourself and then quickly butterfly kicked him, sending him to the ground. The other two ran at you, but you rolled on your shoulder, shocking the one you just took down, then standing to face the other two. You dropped into a fighting stance and awaited the attackers’ next move. One ran at you and you thrust your hand to his chest, summoning all the electricity you could in a split second. He fell limp. Your other attacker made a grab for your neck, but you ducked and punched him in the stomach. He doubled over, but didn’t fall. He made to punch you, but you drove your knee into his stomach while he was open. You elbowed him in the side of the head, but he caught your arm, twisting it and making you let out a sharp cry.

While you were occupied, your first foe pushed himself from the ground, dusting the dirt from his uniform. He saw the scuffle between you and your current adversary, and joined in. He threw a punch, but you pulled your arm free and blocked it, then ducked as the other tried to hit you as well. You dropped to the ground and swept the feet out from under one, while the other tried throwing another punch. You stood straight again and made to elbow the agent in the stomach, but he blocked. You punched; he blocked. You kicked; he blocked. You threw another punch, and then you found yourself being shoved backward from a kick. You yelped before you hit the tree, then suddenly you were on the ground.

You were seeing stars and losing your vision and hearing quickly. Your heart rate sped up. Both agents approached, but the last thing you remembered was two gunshots and their bodies falling limp to the ground.

Steve heard you cry out and he kicked a HYDRA agent, sending him backward. He looked in the direction of your voice and saw you hit a tree and fall to the ground, unmoving. His eyes widened.

“Natasha!” he called out. She followed his gaze, and as if she didn’t even think about it, shot down the two agents advancing on you. He nodded to Natasha in thanks.

Steve looked around the area, seeing this was a hopeless effort. “We need to retreat!” he said into comms.

“Copy that,” Tony replied. Steve put his shield on his back and ran to you, picking you up bridal style and holding you close to his chest. He was relieved when he saw you were merely unconscious.

“That’s right. You’re good,” he murmured more to himself than you. He jogged back toward the quinjet, hoping whatever injuries you’d sustained weren’t too severe.

-----

The flight back to New York seemed endless. Steve was relieved when they landed. They got you to the doctors as quick as they could.

He paced outside your room with his hands folded behind his back. He walked to the window and stared out at the setting sun.

“Captain Rogers,” Dr. Cho said, closing your door behind herself. Steve turned, a hopeful gleam in his eye. He took note of Dr. Cho’s calm nature, which must have meant you weren’t too severely injured.

“Is she alright?” he blurted. He pursed his lips and ran a hand through his hair.

Dr. Cho held back a smile. “I ran a few tests on her. It looks like she’s received some head trauma. Pretty serious head trauma at that. It shouldn’t have too much of an effect. I’d imagine she’ll only be unconscious for a while.”

“Do you have an estimation of how long?” he asked.

Dr. Cho thought for a moment, placing a hand on her hip. “I’m not entirely sure. Anywhere between two to seven hours. Maybe even longer.”

Steve felt himself tense and sighed. “Can I see her?”

“Absolutely. Go on in.”

Steve nodded in thanks and opened your door. He saw you lying in your bed as if you were asleep. You looked very peaceful despite the little bruises and cuts that were scattered across your face. He approached the side of your bed and gazed at you with worry gripping him. He caressed your cheek and softly pressed a kiss to your forehead. He pulled up the stool from your desk and sat, folding his hands and resting his chin on them. He waited patiently.

Minutes passed slowly as he waited. He only left once or twice to get something to eat or stretch his legs after a couple hours, but he stayed by your side otherwise. He picked up a book from one of the shelves and started reading. He only got a couple chapters in before you stirred. He set the book aside and his eyes brightened as you crinkled your nose and slowly opened your eyes.

“Hey, Angelface.”

Confusion twisted your features for a moment. You were silent. “Um…” you slowly sat up. Your hand flew to your head. “Ow…”

“Yeah, you took quite a hit back there.”

You looked him over, your eyes searching him as if you were looking for something. “What happened?”

“We were raiding a HYDRA base and you hit your head. I’m so glad you’re alright.” Steve leaned over and hugged you. You tensed and politely nudged him back. You had a look of concern molding your features.

“Are you okay?” he asked, gently touching the side of your face.

You hesitated. “Um…do I know you?”

Steve knit hit eyebrows and withdrew his hand. “Y/N, it’s me. It’s Steve.” You studied him for a long time. You scanned his features intently. When you didn’t reply, his heart dropped.

“Wait a second…” you mused. Steve felt a flicker of hope. “You’re Steve Rogers…Captain America!”

That wasn’t exactly the answer he was looking for.

“Wait…but you’re dead.” You looked just as confused as he did moments ago.

“I…I was, I guess.”

“Then how—”

“It’s a long story,” Steve cut in. “Hey, you’ve been out for a while, what do you say I go get you something to eat?”

“That’d be great. Thank you.”

Steve stood and left your room, quietly closing the door behind himself. He sighed and let his gaze drop to the floor.

“Cap, is Y/N okay?” Tony asked as he and Natasha approached. Steve hesitated. “She’s…fine.”

“But?” Natasha cued.

Steve closed his eyes again and looked out the window, turning to face it. “She doesn’t know who I am.”

Natasha tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” He turned back to Nat and Tony, “she has amnesia. She doesn’t remember me. She thinks…she thinks I’m still in the ice. I don’t even think she knows she’s an Avenger anymore.”

The words hurt to say. He hoped to God it was temporary.

“Let me talk to her,” Tony suggested. Steve shrugged, not stopping Tony as he entered your room.

-----

Questions stirred in your brain. You weren’t entirely sure what you were doing in this room, though it was vaguely familiar. You wondered if it was some sort of recovery room. You furrowed your brow as you thought about the fact that Captain America was awaiting your awakening. Someone knocked on the door, pulling you from your train of thought before it could go anywhere.

“Come in,” you called. When the door opened, you saw a familiar face. Then it came back to you. “Tony? What are you doing here?”

He smiled at you and approached the side of your bed. “I live here.”

“This is your apartment?”

He snickered. “You could call it that. It’s Stark Tower. I built it. This is your room.”

You squinted. “Really?”

Tony nodded. “Yep.” He sighed. “You have amnesia, Sparky.”

Sparky. You remembered that nickname. Where from though? You didn’t realize how quiet you were or how long you thought.

“Sparky?” Tony tried. “Y/N…”

You snapped out of your trance and looked to Tony. “I have a feeling we’re close…right?”

Tony nodded. “Somewhat. Not as close as you and Cap, but…”

“Cap?”

“Steve.”

You nodded. “How do I know him?” you asked.

You could tell Tony tried not to snicker. “You two are…you’re kinda…you guys…” He shut up and thought for a second. “He’s your boyfriend.”

You squinted at Tony. “I don’t have a…” you trailed off. You shared an awkward glance with him. “I’m sorry. I…I think I need to sleep. Everything’s a little fuzzy right now.”

“Yeah. Uh, you do that.” He took a few steps toward the door. “Let JARVIS know if you need anything.”

“Jarvis?”

Tony glanced upward. “The AI. You’ll meet him soon enough.”

You nodded as he walked away.

You watched him close the door. You then glanced around ‘your room’. You bit your lip and took in each of your surroundings. You flipped the blankets back and swung your legs over the edge of the bed. You stood and paced to the window, glancing out over the city. The sun was setting slowly, casting an orange light along with shadows from the skyscrapers. You then crossed to your desk. You saw a picture of yourself and your mother smiling. You had vague memories of that day. You’d gone to a festival and gotten copious amounts of cotton candy and gotten sick. You pushed the thought aside and went on, running your fingertips over the top of the desk. You looked in the mirror and glanced at your reflection. You had a fairly decent wound on the side of your head and your eye was generously blackened, with several other scrapes and cuts about your features. You sighed and glanced at another picture. It was you and Captain Rogers. He stood with his arm around you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You were smiling brightly in the picture, and a soft blush covered your cheeks. You stared at the picture for a long time.

You felt heat rise in your face the longer you stared. You wished you remembered that. It seemed like it must have been a wonderful thing, being in love with Captain America himself. You picked up the picture, looking at it for a few moments longer before you laid it on the desk face down. You went back to bed, falling asleep soon after pulling the blankets up over your shoulder and laying down your head.

-----

"You know, brooding isn’t gonna help you much.“ Natasha found Steve in the lounge staring at the wall.

"I’m not brooding–”

“You’re brooding.”

“…just thinking,” he finished with a small glare. She sat on the couch next to him and rested a hand on his shoulder.

“Whatcha thinking about?” she asked in a softer tone.

He rubbed his eyes and sighed. “Y/N.”

Natasha have him a sympathetic look. “I understand this is rough. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Probably not.” He stared at the wall again. “Thanks though.”

Natasha nodded in response and patted his shoulder. She stood and crossed to the doorway, stopping for a moment. She turned back to him. “Just let me know, 'kay?”

Steve nodded. He looked up with his puppy dog stare as she walked away.

-----

The days passed as they normally would for Steve, save for the lack of you. He was surprised with himself and how often he wanted to go see you just for a cuddle or a quick kiss and even to see how you were doing. He had also realized how often he would most nights end up falling asleep with you before you lost your memories. His drive to go to you and just snuggle your memories back was surprisingly intense. He fought it for your comfort’s sake.

Every couple days, you would get a random memory. They were mostly scattered pieces and random things like a picture you drew for a friend or your sixth birthday. There was a point when you remembered going to see your family. You couldn’t remember why you were doing that, but you were told it was because you’d been working with the Avengers and hadn’t seen your family in a while. You hadn’t had many memories of working with the Avengers at all. Anything having to do with your relationships with them was very fuzzy and distorted.

Steve would spend what time he could with you when you were in a central area and he wasn’t busy. You both got along pretty well, but it was hard having to start from square one again with you.

-----

“So are we going to address…you know,” you said, breaking the silence between the two of you as you looked through some old pictures of yourself on the iPad Tony had given you, “or are we going to act like it didn’t happen?” Steve was caught somewhat off guard by that, but he closed his book and looked up at you. “Well I figured since you don’t remember…I-I thought we’d leave it.”

“Oh come on, you act like it doesn’t hurt. It’s obvious that it bothers you.” You laughed softly and set aside your device. You tucked your legs under yourself as you locked your gaze with Steve’s. He didn’t respond to what you said. He simply cast his eyes downward, rolling his lips. You tilted your head at him. “I can tell it bothers you because you do that little thing where you run your fingers through your hair and sigh and you rest your hand on the back of your neck,” you prompted.

He perked up and looked to you. “Wait what?”

“I said–”

“No, no, you remembered something.”

“Oh.” You shrugged and bit your lip. “I kinda knew that I guess. Your mannerisms are very familiar. It’s partly why I sort of make an effort to be around you. You’re the most familiar thing I have right now.”

Steve found himself involuntary smiling. “Really?”

You shrugged. “Yeah. That and your voice. I like listening to you speak.”

He laughed quietly and moved from the chair diagonal to you to the couch cushion next to you, making sure he was at a friendly distance as not to cross any boundaries.

“That’s not my point though,” you reminded. Steve nodded. He exhaled and looked around the room.

“Well what is there to talk about?”

You looked at the floor and thought. “What happened? The day I lost my memories…I wanna know everything in as much detail as you can give.”

“Oh, well, um…”

He explained the mission and the situation. Your adorable flirting and the quips you threw at each other were some things he remembered with surprisingly vivid detail. You were surprised. He explained the way that you had been cornered and thrown back before you hit your head. He tried to keep the plane ride brief too.

“Honestly, I was worried you wouldn’t wake up. I–” he trailed off.

You waited in suspense. “You…?”

Steve shook his head and waved the matter off. “It’s nothing. I’m just glad you’re alright.” He sat back on the couch and folded his hands in his lap. You rested your hand ever so softly on his shoulder, making him look up and meet your eyes. “I’m really sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be.”

“No, I see how much this hurts you. I honestly wish I remembered what we had. It must have been great. I just…I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “Nothing you can do to fix it. It’s alright.”

You leaned in and pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheek. You blushed and stood, giving him a little smile before exiting the room. He watched you leave, a feeling of sadness hitting him. There you were, leaving again and you still weren’t his. He ran his fingers through his hair and then rested his hand on the back of his neck. He laughed softly when he noticed he actually does that.

-----

You ran a hand across the shelf in your closet with a sigh. Every now and then you would find something that would make you ask yourself if you actually wore that.

You left your closet and looked at the books on your bookshelf. You ran your fingertips over them and looked out at the cars driving by below. The sun was starting to sink behind the New York skyline. You sat on your bed and started staring into space.

You felt a sense of regret within, not for anything you had done, but for what you couldn’t do. You wanted to remember. You felt as if you had lost a piece of yourself with your memories. You had an amazing life. Hell, you were a superhero! That was your dream as a child with parents working with SHIELD. Not to mention what you must have had with Steve. He seemed like a great guy. You sighed again and lay back.

To your dismay, you found that your headboard was closer than you thought, and it collided with the back of your head. You let out a surprised yelp and you sat up quickly. Your hand flew to the back of your head. You felt your head ache, and stars spattered your vision. You swore under your breath and grit your teeth. That hurt a lot. Almost as much as when you hit it the first time, only there’s was less snow and you…wait a second.

Despite the throbbing headache you had now, you were smiling brightly and your heart jumped with joy. You stood and stumbled a couple steps, then hurried to Steve’s room.

When you got there, you didn’t even knock. you threw the door open and found Steve halfway to where you were. He froze mid step and wore a confused expression.

You smiled brightly. “Steve…” you breathed before running to him. You threw your arms around him and kissed him full on the lips with passion. You laughed and smiled into the kiss, placing your hands on either side of his neck. He reluctantly returned your kiss and rested his hands on your waist. You pulled back for a moment, laughing joyously.

“I remember!” you exclaimed. Steve’s eyes lit up, and he returned your ecstatic laughter. He picked you up and spun you around, and when you were back on your feet, his lips crashed into yours again.

You kissed and giggled and laughed and kissed some more. Steve would whisper “I love you” between each kiss, and each kiss grew more passionate.

You both ended up tangled together on the bed, all of your kisses and touches lost within a blur of joy and excitement.

You prolonged the kiss as much as you could, but eventually, you had to breathe. You hesitantly pulled away from each other. Steve rested his forehead on yours and wrapped his arms snug around your waist. He kissed your nose.

“I love you,” Steve murmured again as he buried his face in your shoulder, hugging you tightly.

“I love you too,” you replied equally as quiet. You still found yourself unable to stop smiling. You pushed yourself back a little so you  could look into his eyes. You couldn’t quite tell what emotions were behind them, you just knew there were many. Your brow furrowed a little in confusion. “What?" 

"I just love you so much,” he said, squeezing you.

“You said that already,” you teased.

He laughed. “I figured it was worth repeating. I missed having you.”

You smiled and ran your fingertips over his chest. “You’re the best,” you murmured sleepily.

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“Oh hush. Let me love you.” You laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his lips again.

The pair of you shared many sleepy kisses and soft laughter as you dozed off.

[beelzebaes]

Lessons learned.

Obey Me! Shall We Date oneshot; Pairing: Beelzebub + (f)MC Warnings: None Genre: fluff, introspective, self indulgent The first time he sees her, Beel crosses his arms over his chest, frowning. Humans are small, fragile, breakable. He takes a hasty glance at his brothers and that’s really all it takes for him to know they feel the same way: a reign of demons, cold and sunless, was no place for a mortal. Even so, she doesn’t flinch at the sight of him. She stubbornly stands her ground, stiff yet proud, and slowly extends her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she says, and Beel almost laughs. He half-expects her to cower, to somehow will herself into shrinking down the second his hand grips hers, but she doesn’t. She smiles instead, teeth showing and everything, and it istantly reminds Beel of biblical miracles. He smiles back. That’s the first lesson he ever learns: strenght isn’t a demonic exclusive. Humans, he’ll soon find out, are way more resilient than he gave them credit for.

“Listen, I don’t mean to shame you, but this is just excessive,” she notes, ungraciously plopping down on his couch. She clicks her tongue eloquenty, pointing to the mountain of chocolate bars resting on it. Beel snorts at her signature lack of elegance, but chooses not to comment on it. “I am the Avatar of Gluttony, you know.“ He absent-mindedly throws one of the sweets in her direction, too busy unpacking his own to pay any mind to the strenght he put in the gesture. A loud thud forces him to peel his focused glance away from the precious bar and look at his companion, who appears to be utterly unimpressed despite a hand pressed against her heart. “Beel, you threw it all the way across the room!” she whines then, standing up to retrieve her chocolate. “No wonder people aren’t big on demons.” “Aren’t they now?”, Beel retorts. He puts a hand on her shoulder and nods to the couch. “Sit, I’ll get it,” he says apologetically. “Sorry.” He strides towards the bar, stretching a bit in the process. “You know, Beel– ” “Hm? What?” Beel picks up the chocolate bar, but doesn’t turn immediately. He senses something in her tone, a feeling he experienced before. He knows what she’s about to say, feels it coming with a certainty that he rarely ever knew before. A lot changed since she arrived, though. Beel’s never been one for surety, for definitive answers  – if anything, he used to be costantly torn apart by doubts. Admittedly, he didn’t have it easy, even considering demonic standards. He doesn’t really like thinking about it, nor he enjoys being reminded of it: Beel remembers all of it vividly, thank you very much. The exctruciating pain of losing a sibling, of being impossibly fast and strong, just not quite enough. Of course, how could one forget the tragedy of not being allowed to repent, his sin being plainly dismissed by everyone around him? No atonement meant no forgiveness, no forgiveness meant eternal torment. That, added to the loss of his home, of his very essence, utterly and royally fucked him up. What level of certainty could he ever hope to achieve? The mere thought used to be ludicrous to him, just as blasphemous as his own existence. Because, honestly, how else could anyone describe it? After his halo twisted into horrifying horns, how could anyone welcome such change? No, nothing made sense anymore. Until she stumbled right into his life, that is. As of now, pain isn’t the only thing he can remember. Beel thinks about it with embarassing frequency: he pictures a small human standing in front of him, arms stretched impossibly wide, small and unafraid, shielding him from what would’ve been certain death had Diavolo not intervened then and there. He muses back to the comfort washing over his body the second she took his hands in hers, nodding and smiling, ecstatic at the idea of a pact binding them together forever. She shined brightly then, open and honest, and it almost made him want to cry. The Devildom had no sun, no summer to speak of, but that was the warmest he ever felt. He learned a lot, these past few months. About her, about himself. It’s to be expected, she explained once. When you spend all your days by someone’s side, well, how can you not? Beel didn’t quite know how to respond then, but he understood eventually. He got to know her better than anyone, and she knows everything about him just as well. It’s almost odd really, considering the nature of their relationship, mortal human and immortal demon. But Beel treasures her more than anything else, more than life itself. She’s his light, his anchor, and he’s completely and absolutely hers. She’s the one thing he’s sure of. It clearly comes as no surprise that, the moment she opens her mouth, Beel just feels it. That tinge of worry in her tone, the way she suddenly pauses before clumsily trying to finish the sentence… he’s seen her stammer like that, and it’s never ended well before. He doesn’t need to look at her to know she’s staring down at her feet. He bites his lip and waits. “Sometimes I just forget,” she continues, faltering yet determined. “That you’re a demon, that is.” “Did my chocolate throwing skills remind you?” Beel answers. It comes way too quickly, and he’s still not turning to face her. He’s deflecting, they both know he is. “I’m sorry,” Beel offers again, “I wasn’t paying attention.” It pisses him off, the way he can’t do anything but apologize. It’s infuriating. Then again, what’s he supposed to say? Why yes, yes indeed, I am a demon and the very fact you’re alive right now is a miracle even I can’t explain. “It’s okay, I actually found it funny.” Her reply, the way she whispers it… all of it makes Beel want to scream. “You do realize I am… a lot stronger than you, right? I could kill you in two seconds,” he deadpans. “You should work on that survival istinct of yours. Geez, I’m hungry–” “You wouldn’t.” Beel turns to her then, spins on his heels unnecessarily fast, and opens his mouth to reply, to say something. Nothing comes out. He pinches the bridge of his nose instead, desperately trying to find the words to convey just how frustrated their exchange is making him. “Of course I wouldn’t. I won’t,” he manages. But you still need to be careful, because if anything happened to you– “I’m not worried about getting hurt. I’m not scared of you guys. Of you. You know I trust you with my life.” She’s standing up now, and Beel silently prays to any divinity out there she doesn’t come any closer. She does. Of course she does. She’s never been a fan of caution, after all. “I just think… I wish I was a demon, too. Or, you know, an angel. Something more than,” she points to her chest, smiling weakly, “this.” Everything unfolds so quickly then, it almost doesn’t feel real. Beel doesn’t quite remember his legs moving, closing the gap between them in a couple of hasty strides. He can’t recall his hands stretching outwards to hold her shoulders, as gently as he possibly can given the circumstances. He’s vaguely aware of her eyes growing wider and wider with wonder, his hug inevitably lifting her way above the floor, her arms struggling to envelop his huge back while she clings to his shirt with what he imagines is all the strenght she can conjure, but that’s all he manages to focus on. He has to tell her. He has to make absolutely sure she knows. “I wouldn’t change you for the world,” he says finally, and it’s barely audible, but it reaches her. She hears him loud and clear, as she always does, and cries. “But when I leave– ” “Then stay.” He’s never really said it before. He thought about it, obviously, but he never really expressed it like that. As unnatural as it is for a demon, Beel feels all too vulnerable, naked almost, but it’s out. Might as well roll with it, he concludes. Beel takes a step back, his hands still on her tiny shoulders, and exhales loudly. He didn’t realise he was holding his breath until then. She’s standing there, stiff as a board, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks. Beel expects her to protest, and for a second he’s completely sure she will. And yet, she says nothing. A rare occurrence, really. “I know this place isn’t what you’re used to. I know there’s no proper spring, no actual summer, and I know you hate the food most of the times, I know you miss the sun, but I’ll try my hardest to make sure you’re always comfortable, and I– ” I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you. “What are you talking about?” she suddenly cuts in, her hands trembling. She removes them from his back and wipes her eyes, only to place them right against his chest. Her eyes meet his, and Beel has to make a conscious effort not to look away. “The sun’s right here.” She smiles through her tears, and thanks to some sort of otherwordly miracle, it’s her usual smile. Teeth showing and all.  That’s when Beel understands. He’s already figured out how strenght can be borrowed, infinitely shared between two souls. She lent him hers, over and over again, teaching him how to take hurt and turn it into resilience. As tiny as she was, she supported him through it all, with all her might, albeit sometimes unsteady. He just never knew, never truly realised: she was his lighthouse, sure, but he was hers. He matters to this woman, this small breakable woman, just as much as she matters to him. And that’s the last  – and most important  – lesson Beel ever has to learn.

[malarkay]

To Walk With Dreams and Darkness

Alright, I’ve decided to start posting my Storm Hawks/Harry Potter crossover fic, because I’m impatient.  I only have a few chapters written, and I write slow, so I’m only going to post the prologue for now.  The prologue is a little dark.  The main story will not be, at least for a while.

Summary:  The year: 1982. The place: Brixton, London, England. Piper is a normal 11-year-old kid trying to enjoy the summer holiday with her foster brothers, Aaron and Finn. But when a stranger shows up bearing an acceptance letter to a place called Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she's swept away to a magical world, one that is just beginning to heal from a brutal, decade-long war. There she will make new friends and new enemies. And she just might find herself a part of something bigger than she ever imagined.

                                                  Prologue: 

Cyneric Cyclonis frowned as a sudden, searing pain flared in his forearm. He looked to Kestrel, who was rubbing her arm with a frown that mirrored his own.

The Dark Lord was calling. And from the strength of the summons, he was in a furious mood.

 "I'll get Lark," Kestrel said as he conjured their uniforms. She returned presently with their sleepy but uncomplaining daughter in tow. It was late, but they had impressed upon her from a young age the importance of not keeping them, and by extension, their capricious master, waiting.

 "Your mother and I have a meeting to attend," he told her. "You're going to stay with your grandmother."

 She nodded, and they traveled via the Floo Network to his mother's estate. They found her there in the sitting room, reading.

 She arched an eyebrow at their arrival. "I wasn't aware there was a meeting scheduled for tonight."

 "Neither were we."

 "You look pensive.  Do you think it wise to attend?"

 "I think we don't have a choice.  If we haven't returned or sent word in two hours?" he prompted.

 "Go into hiding. Yes, I know the protocol."

 He nodded and turned to Lark, kissing her forehead. "Love you, fy bach i. Don't give your grandmother too much trouble."

 "I won't," she promised, hugging him. When she released him, he stepped back and put on his mask, watching as Kestrel said goodbye to Lark.

 Once Kestrel was ready to go, they Apparated together to the Dark Lord's position and found themselves in the drawing-room of Malfoy Manor.

 The Dark Lord sat before them in a high-backed armchair set off to the side of the massive fireplace. Lucius Malfoy stood stiffly to his right. A quick glance around the room revealed no others, and the long table they usually sat around when a meeting was held at the Malfoy's was pushed up against the far wall.

 "My Lord," Cyneric and Kestrel greeted in unison, heads bowed.

 "There's no need for the masks," the Dark Lord said. "It's just the four of us tonight."

 They lowered their hoods and removed their masks, setting them down on a nearby side table. Cyneric glanced back to Lucius. "Cousin," he greeted the younger man.

 Lucius nodded his greeting, not meeting his eyes.  His usual poise and arrogance were missing tonight, and Cyneric didn't like it. Then the Dark Lord spoke again, and his stomach tied itself into a sick knot.

 "I have heard some disturbing rumors. About you."

 He sidestepped closer to Kestrel, his hand seeking hers. She took it; her palm was sweaty.

 "Rumors, my Lord?"

 "Rumors that call into question your loyalty to me," the Dark Lord said, his voice as cold as death.

 "I assure you, my Lord, our loyalty to you is as strong as ever it was," he said, willing his voice to remain steady.

 The Dark Lord was out of his seat in an instant, fury burning in his eyes. "You dare lie to me? Or did I never truly have your fealty?"

 Cyneric tapped a finger against Kestrel's palm twice. It was their signal to Disapparate. He could buy her some time to escape, to get their family and get away from the Dark Lord's wrath. Almost immediately, Kestrel swiped a finger in a straight line across his palm. Negation. Or failure.

 He tried to Disapparate them both. Nothing happened. Someone had put up an Anti-Apparition Charm since their arrival. They weren't alone.

 In one smooth motion, Cyneric pushed Kestrel away from him, drew his wand, and spun around to cast the Stunning Spell at whoever he knew must be lurking behind them.

 His instincts proved true as his Stunner was deflected, and his attack returned twofold. He cast a Shielding Charm, and the two spells dissipated as they hit his shield. Not Unforgivable Curses, then. He was surprised, given the casters: Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange. They were not known for their restraint. Lord Voldemort must have given orders not to kill. That didn't bring him any comfort.

 They stared at each other for a moment, waiting to see who would be the next to act. Behind Cyneric, Lord Voldemort seemed content to see how things played out.

 In the end, it was Kestrel who broke the brief cease-fire, throwing a curse at Bellatrix, who deflected it. The curse hit a mirror, which exploded, sending shards of glass and wood flying. Bellatrix laughed in delight, "That's seven years of bad luck! Too bad you won't be living that…"

 Bellatrix's words cut short as Kestrel flicked her wand toward her once more, and a large shard of the mirror shot toward her.  Bellatrix flinched back, and the glass sailed past, slicing a shallow cut across her cheek instead of ripping open her throat as intended.

 Bellatrix's retaliation was swift as she slashed her wand at Kestrel.  "Sectums…"

 "No!" 

 Cyneric fired on Bellatrix before she could complete her spell, engulfing her in a nimbus of blue light that blasted her off her feet.  He wheeled back toward Rodolphus, throwing up another Shielding Charm just in time to block the barrage of spells the man sent his way.  Rodolphus was relentless, pressing forward with each attack, forcing Cyneric back.  He could see flashes of light in his peripheral vision, knew that Bellatrix was back in the fight, but he didn't dare break his concentration to see how Kestrel was faring. 

 Tiring of the onslaught, he pushed his Shielding Charm toward the other man. It barreled into Rodolphus, shoving him back until he was pinned against the wall, unable to move.  Cyneric looked over to Kestrel and Bellatrix.  Bellatrix snapped her wand like a whip handle.  A cord of orange light shot from the end of her wand toward Kestrel, trying to ensnare her.  Kestrel sliced at it several times with a Severing Charm, but it kept coming, snaking around her wand arm.  Bellatrix pulled her wand back, and the cord began to retract, dragging Kestrel toward Bellatrix as it went. 

 "So, you like playing with sharp things, do you?" Bellatrix asked, drawing the ornate silver knife she liked to carry.  "So do I."

 Still pointing his wand at Rodolphus to keep him pressed against the wall, Cyneric drew the secondary wand he kept on hand in case of disarmament or damage to his primary one.  "Locomotor," he incanted, pointing his second wand at the rug upon which the two women stood, pulling it out from under them and sending them both sprawling.  Bellatrix's concentration broke, and the cord vanished, allowing Kestrel to scramble away as he wrapped Bellatrix in the rug. 

 "Duro!"

 Kestrel's spell hardened the rug into stone, trapping Bellatrix within. 

 "Watch out!" Kestrel warned him, and he ducked as a streak of red light flashed by overhead, a Stunner fired by Rodolphus.  He had managed to free himself while Cyneric was dealing with Bellatrix.  An unfortunate flaw with dual-wielding wands.  Spells cast simultaneously were weaker than a single spell to which you devoted your full attention.

 He had scarcely had time to straighten before a second Stunner struck Kestrel in the back, cast by Lucius.  Damn the man!  He had hoped, foolishly, that he would stay out of the fight.  She collapsed, unconscious, and he rushed to her side. 

 "Reducto!" 

 Nearby, the hardened carpet erupted in a shower of stone, freeing Bellatrix.  He covered his head with his arms as he crouched over Kestrel, protecting them both from the debris that rained down around them. 

 As he did, he heard both Bellatrix and Lucius yelling at Rodolphus. 

 "You idiot!  That was an antique rug!"

 "What were you thinking?  You could have blown me up along with the carpet!"

 Taking advantage of their momentary distraction, Cyneric pointed his wand to the fireplace before slashing his wand horizontally as he spun in a circle.  The flames leapt out of the fireplace, roaring along the path he set for it, surrounding him and Kestrel in a protective ring of fire that stretched nearly to the vaulted ceiling. 

 He pointed his second wand at Kestrel. 

 "Rennervate."

 The wall of fire sputtered but held, and he refocused his attention on maintaining it as Kestrel stirred.  She lurched to her feet in alarm, eyes wide as she stared at the fire.  "It's okay," he assured her.  "It's my spell."

 "Are you certain about that?"

 He frowned.  Watching carefully, he noticed what Kestrel had, that the circle was closing in around them.  Kestrel raised her wand to help him wrest back control over the flames.  Standing back-to-back, they pushed back the fire, widening their circle and giving themselves more breathing room.  The others pushed back, and it became a game of tug of war between the two sides. 

 "We can't win," Kestrel said quietly.  It wasn't a question, or even a lamentation, just a statement of fact. 

 "We can try."

 "Even if we were to take down the Lestranges," she mused.

 "And Lucius," he added.

 "There's still the Dark Lord."

 Cyneric drew in a deep, shuddering breath, releasing it as a sigh.  "I'm sorry.  I'm so sorry I got you into this."

 "That's not what I need to hear from you right now."

 He glanced back at her, felt a lump form in his throat. 

 "I love you."

 "That's better," she looked back over her shoulder at him, giving him a sad smile.

 "Oh?" he asked, turning his attention back to the flames.  "Is that all you have to say?"

 Her voice, which had been so steady up until that point, cracked as she replied, "I love you, too."

 "You ready to get back out there?"

 "As ready as I'll ever be."

 "Firestorm."

 Together, they channeled all their power into this one spell, twirling their wands clockwise overhead.  The fire ring began to spin, morphing into a cyclone of flame with them at the eye.  Slashing their wands downward, they sent the flames radiating out like a shockwave, scattering their opponents. 

 The wall of fire shrank as the flames licked across the floor, reaching waist height by the time it crashed against the walls like a wave breaking against a cliff, sending a violent shower of sparks into the air.  Some of those sparks caught and ignited the canvas of one of the many family portraits that decorated the wall, a painting of his Maternal Great-Grandfather Typhon Malfoy.  Typhon fled into a nearby portrait, glaring out at them in pinch-faced disapproval.

 It took the others a dishearteningly short amount of time to regroup.  Almost immediately, a volley of spells assailed them.  He batted away the attacks that came near him with his spare wand while casting his own with his main.  He fought without much thought or finesse, now.  At his back, he could feel Kestrel do the same, desperately firing off a flurry of spells in the hopes that one would find a target.

 A jet of red light came straight for him, and he deflected it, failing to notice the second jet that followed closely behind.  The second spell struck him square in the chest, and the world faded around him.

 When he came to, he found Bellatrix and Rodolphus standing above him, wands at the ready.  Turning his head, he saw that Lucius had a hold on Kestrel from behind, his wand pointed at her throat.  He felt around for his wands, found one on the ground beside him, and pointed it defiantly at Bellatrix, who snickered. 

 "Enough," Lord Voldemort said.  "Know when you've been beaten."

 Cyneric looked over to where Lord Voldemort sat.  The room was a mess, but a one-meter ring around his chair sat entirely unscathed, as did the Dark Lord himself.  Lord Voldemort raised his wand, and Cyneric found himself divested of his own.

 Rodolphus grabbed Cyneric and dragged him over to Lord Voldemort, forcing him to his knees. Lucius was only marginally gentler with Kestrel as she was made to kneel beside him.

 "Now then," Lord Voldemort said, conversationally. "Let us return to the discussion at hand. This could just be a terrible misunderstanding. That's why I've kept it a family affair."

 "My Lord," Kestrel began, and Lord Voldemort held up a hand for silence.

 "There will be time for you to plead your case. But first, let me tell you what I know. You see, Bellatrix came to me with an interesting tale. She said that she had heard from her sister that you have been planning to betray me. Her sister, of course, had heard it from Lucius. And who was it who told Lucius?"

 Here Lord Voldemort paused.

 "Please, my Lord, I…"

 Lord Voldemort cut him off, "Yes, you! Naturally, I had to investigate this claim further. So, I spoke to Narcissa. She told me that you had tried to recruit Lucius into joining your little coup d'état. Of course, she realized that such an attempt would be doomed to failure. She worried about what might happen to her husband should he be tempted to join you. Then I spoke with Lucius."

 His voice grew colder as he stared hard at Lucius. "And he assured me that, while you had approached him, he had no intention of taking part in your plan. The only reason he had not yet told me himself was that he hoped he could dissuade you and bring you back into the fold without any...ugliness. That might even have worked had he not told Narcissa of your initial conversation. But I understand that it must be difficult for spouses to keep secrets from one another. Isn't that right?"  He turned his red-eyed gaze upon Kestrel, who averted her eyes.  Any hope Cyneric had that he could keep her from being implicated in this died with those words. Even if he had kept her in the dark, Lord Voldemort would never believe it.

 "Tell me," Lord Voldemort continued, looking back to Cyneric. "Is what they say true? Or did Lucius misinterpret your words?"

 Cyneric remained silent. He knew he was being toyed with. There was little hope of him believing any denials he could voice, no matter how plausibly he could spin his lies. He doubted Lord Voldemort fully believed Lucius' claims of innocence, either, but he was willing to overlook the man's transgressions in exchange for his cooperation tonight.

 But he couldn't admit the truth outright. They had to buy enough time for his mother to realize what had happened and act.

 Lord Voldemort sighed. "Perhaps you require assistance in loosening your tongues. Which one of you would break first under the right amount of pressure, I wonder? Lucius, what do you think?"

 There was a long pause. Cyneric wasn't certain whether Lucius was considering the question or simply didn't want to answer. But he couldn't stall forever.

 "Cyneric, my Lord. He's the more ardent of the two."

 Lord Voldemort nodded, and Bellatrix's eager voice rang out. "Crucio!"

 Beside him, Kestrel screamed, her back arched and her head thrown back as the curse tore through her.

 Cyneric surged to his feet. Or rather, he tried to, but Rodolphus held him in place. "He picked me!" he yelled at Lord Voldemort.

 "I am aware," Lord Voldemort answered after a long moment before gesturing toward Bellatrix, who lowered her wand. Kestrel collapsed forward onto her hands, taking deep, gasping breaths.

 "Did that stir up any memories?" Lord Voldemort asked after giving Kestrel a moment to recover.

 "Lucius lies!" Kestrel surprised both him and Lord Voldemort by saying. Shakily, she pushed herself upright. "He's jealous of Cyneric's standing with you, my Lord. You play them against each other so often, claiming first one and then the other as your second, that it was only a matter of time before one of them tried to rid themselves of the competition. He had to have known that Narcissa would go to Bellatrix with whatever story he concocted and that Bellatrix would go straight to you. I swear to you, neither my husband nor I would ever betray you, my Lord."

 Cyneric stared at her in amazement. He almost believed her; she sounded so sincere. Voldemort laughed, high and cold.  "I don't know which I find more impressive; your acting or your occlumency skills," he praised.  "If what you say is true, then let me into your mind so that I may see for myself."  He paused.  "No?  Very well."  He gestured once more to Bellatrix.

 "Crucio!"

 Another scream ripped out of Kestrel. She fell forward, curling up into a fetal position as if that would protect her from the curse. Lord Voldemort let it go on much longer this time. Lucius had to help Rodolphus hold Cyneric back as he screamed threats at Bellatrix.

 Bellatrix merely smiled, her wand remaining trained on Kestrel.

 "Enough," Voldemort commanded.

 Bellatrix reluctantly lifted the curse. Kestrel remained curled up in a ball, sobbing.

 "It pains me that I have to do this," Lord Voldemort finally spoke once Kestrel's cries had grown softer. "Every drop of pure blood shed weakens us. But I cannot let this betrayal stand, no matter how much I wish we did not have to lose two of our own this night. I know you have been plotting against me. Admit it and end her suffering. End your suffering."

 Kestrel had managed to sit up during Lord Voldemort's speech. She knelt with her head bowed, shoulders hunched. Tremors racked her body, but no fresh tears fell. Cyneric's heart clenched painfully as he looked at her.

When neither of them spoke, Lord Voldemort sighed in disappointment.  "You leave me no choice.  Bella, continue."

 "I have been plotting against you," Cyneric blurted before Bellatrix could obey.  He couldn't put Kestrel through another round of this.

 "Thank you for your honesty, at last," Lord Voldemort said. He raised his wand, aiming at Kestrel. "Avada Kedavra!"

 Cyneric's breath caught in his throat as Kestrel slumped, lifeless.  It was like an iron vice had closed around his chest, constricting.  He couldn't breathe, couldn't cry.  His vision went hazy as his head swam. 

Vaguely, he could hear voices.  They seemed so far away.  So insignificant.

 There was pain, then.  He barely registered it, but it made the voices clearer. 

 "-a question!"

 Kestrel was dead.  His wife was dead.  Kes...

 Pain exploded across the left side of his face, bringing him fully back to reality.  He raised his hand to his jaw, gingerly probing where Rodolphus had punched him.  Twice.

 "What?" he rasped.

 "I said the Dark Lord asked you a question," Rodolphus said. It was the longest sentence he'd ever heard the man string together. He laughed.

 Somewhere behind him, Bellatrix laughed, too. "He's cracked! How pathetic!"

 He fought to regain control, to stop the laughter that continued to bubble up, unbidden from within.  He had not cracked.  No, it would have been better if he had.  But despite his best efforts, he was still laughing as he spoke, "I just didn't know your husband was capable of speaking."

 Rodolphus punched him again, and he tasted blood.

 "Why?" Lord Voldemort asked. "Before you die, I want to know why you would betray me."

 The laughter died.  The dull certainty of his own impending death prompted him to speak frankly.  As frankly as he dared without revealing his true motive and putting the rest of his family at risk, anyway.

 "Because while there's no question that you can lead a revolution, you'll never be able to rule."

 That riled Bellatrix up again. "You filthy traitor, how dare you!"

 Lord Voldemort held up a hand, silencing her. "And why is that?"

 "You don't have the temperament for it.  You lead through fear. People won't tolerate living like that forever. They will rebel. Again, and again, as many times as they need to, to be rid of you. There would never be peace.  It would destroy our world."

 "So your plan was to wait for me to win this war, assassinate me, then assume the mantle of benevolent dictator yourself?"

 "Essentially."

 "Then we have nothing more to discuss here. Avada Kedavra!"

 The last thing Cyneric saw was a flash of green light.

 ~*~*~

 "What happened here tonight stays between us," Lord Voldemort said. "Bellatrix, Rodolphus, gather their belongings and deliver the bodies to their home. But be circumspect."

 "No Dark Mark?" Bellatrix sounded disappointed.

 "No."

 As the Lestranges gathered up the discarded masks and wands, Lord Voldemort turned to Lucius. "They had children, did they not?"

 "One. A daughter."

 "How old?"

 "Nine, I believe."

 "Not yet attending Hogwarts. Excellent." He raised his voice to be heard by the others. "While you're there, Bellatrix, kill the girl."

 "My Lord," Lucius cut in. "That will end their bloodline."

 "The loss of another Pure-blood lineage is a tragedy," Lord Voldemort agreed. "They should have thought of that before they stood against me."

 "Consider it already done, my Lord," Bellatrix said. He appreciated her unwavering enthusiasm for destruction.

 She lifted the Anti-Disapparition Jinx she had cast earlier, and she and Rodolphus disappeared, bodies in tow.

 Lord Voldemort glanced around the ruined room once they were gone. Broken glass, splintered wood, and chunks of stone littered the ground.  Furniture laid overturned.  Scorch marks marred the floor.  The portraits that usually hung so straight and proud were in disarray.

 "Your House-elf has his work cut out for him, Lucius." His lips twitched in amusement. "It's as if a storm tore through here."

[jflashandclash]

Traitors of Olympus IV: The Fall of the Sun

Twenty-One: Sadie

 I Go to Press Big Red Button

             For looking as unimposing as Leo did, the bloke was due more credit than I’d originally given him. He threw me over his shoulder and bolted towards Mount Camel Dung faster than a shabti would try to kill its master if it had all its appendages. Maybe those demigod genes gave him a natural, muscular edge. Maybe it was lugging all the metal to build homicidal, giant lizards.

           Either way, I owed the son of Hephaestus an apology for assuming he wasn’t as strong as his friends.

           Lightning exploded behind us. Harsh gusts of wind tore pieces of the iron fence down and threw sand into the air. The path forward was rapidly becoming a cross between a battlefield of inanimate objects and an obstacle course. Sunlight dimmed as clouds quickly spiraled into a net across the sky.

           Set’s gleeful laughter boomed through the cyclone of stuff.

           The rock formation was further away than it originally appeared. That was the problem with deserts: a lack of kilometer posts.

           At the first batch of red rocks jutting out of the ground, Leo took cover. He dropped me rather ungracefully on the sand.

           “Hey!” I protested, shouting over the wind.

           “Sorry, Lady Sadie,” he said. He lifted up one finger and a burst of flames hissed out like a mini blowtorch. “We’re keeping up the tradition of ungraceful landings.”

           If he was about to do what I thought he was about to do, I was about to tell him to shove that finger somewhere not very nice. Sure enough, he tilted that mini-blowtorch toward my bindings.

           “Are you mad?!” I demanded, not quite in the mood to be set ablaze.

           I’m sure there was some irony in my asking that question, as I rather enjoyed doing mad things, but all I could think about was coming out as a toasted Sadie marshmallow.

           “Trust me, I’m an expert in pyromania,” he said, giving me that crazy elf grin. “Now, inhale deep and exhale when I tell you. The Flaming Valdez is gonna set you free.”

           As he had me inhale, then exhale, he squirmed his other hand between the bindings and my skin, so he could use his own hand as a heat shield for my skin. I couldn’t help but feel like he looked nervous. Normally, it took a bit of magical work to undo a binding spell. I remembered the time my wand turned into a Celestial bronze dagger when Annabeth touched it and wondered if Leo’s magical flames acted like the Egyptian words of power for Bollix Your Binding Spell.

           Once he freed my hands, I withdrew my wand to help dispel the rest of the binding.

           In the last moment, the weather went from partially overcast to pitch black.

           My skin shivered. The temperature dropped at least five degrees Celsius.

           You know how you’re not supposed to look directly at the sun? Both Leo and I abandoned that notion to glance up.

           There was no dispersed glow behind the clouds or circular silhouette off in the distance. It was like Apophis had swallowed the sun all over again.

           “Is that a normal power of your Superman?” I asked, feeling a bit queasy.

           “Uh, no. I’m going to put that solidly in the list of NOT-Jason powers,” Leo said comfortingly.

           We peered over the rocks to see how Jason was doing against Set. Probably a good idea before leaving him on his own to fight a god. I knew we had to find Hemera and we were wasting valuable moments, but my mind kept flashing to how far he’d flown when Set first blasted him.

           All we could see was darkness at first. Leo kept a tiny flame alight in his palm so we could dodge debris caught up in the wind. Some tourist must have discarded an empty can of suntan lotion in the desert; the now-projectile almost took Leo’s head off.

           Off in the distance, there was the soft glow of a city—Phoenix.  

           Closer, lightning gave eerie bursts of illumination to the massive dust storm outside of Governor Hunt’s tomb. Each red streak would make the fog look like a dispersing firework before dimming back to the roaring nothingness.

           In the last burst, we could see the outline of a muscular boy on flying horseback. The horse itself seemed to spark and flare with static. The rest of the horse blended into the mass of debris. Jason must have found his gladius—more sparks exploded outward as the golden blade parried a strike from a flaming battle axe that spun around him. The red sand of the desert swirled higher and higher, as though reaching to drag the stallion down. A mass of it—Set’s avatar I presumed—loomed in front of the Roman horseman, cackling with thunder and laughter.

           Jason looked like he was fighting the desert itself.

           “Em, is he going to be alright?” I asked, withdrawing my wand. I had fought Set on more than one occasion and Lapis seemed quite the powerful host for the god.

           “Yea, this is a normal party for our Golden Boy.” Despite his confidence, Leo looked worried. “What I wouldn’t give for a bulldozer or a wrecking ball though. Can you magic those out of your little Do-a locker?”

           I could envision Leo singing that old Miley Cyrus song, “I came in like a wrecking ball,” while actually riding atop a wrecking ball. I’m not sure how it would help us, but the thought was quite entertaining.

           I was about to inform Leo that I didn’t store demolition equipment in my locker, other than some fireworks that Carter doesn’t need to know about, when I saw a blue burst of light from up Camel Dung Mountain.

           My brilliant reflexes saved us. “Drowah!” I shouted into the wind. The hieroglyph for boundary shimmered into a wall of golden light behind us. The blue wave slammed into it before dissipating.

           For that instance, I could see the silhouette of a man in linen robes with a staff and a small shack behind him.

           “Hemera’s shack!” I cried.

           “Hey! No fair—Set can’t add another creepy dude to the mix,” Leo said.

           The image of the shack and man shimmered under some kind of cover.

           “Creepy magician with powers,” Leo corrected.

           Another flare of blue light shot toward us.

           This time, Leo deflected it with a small blast of fire. We dived to the next closest rock, realizing we couldn’t take shelter from both he and Set at the same time. We needed to get up there.

           “He has the higher ground,” I said. “Can you lob a fireball up there?” I didn’t want to kill the other magician; I didn’t know what Nome he was from, if he was possessed by an evil god, or if Set had threatened him with cheese magic, something that inspires great terror in the Egyptian world. Still, I figured a ball of flames would keep him occupied.

           “I might burn the shack. I doubt it would kill Hemera, but we’d have one pissed off goddess on our hands. I guess you can’t toss over some Egyptian voodoo, Lady Sadie?”

           I deflected another wave of blue. I could fly up as a kite, the bird, not the children’s toy, but I would be a sitting duck—well, kite—for any attacks. “I was hoping for a bit more of a distraction so we could make it up the Mount Dung without being under fire.”

           Leo reached into his tool belt. His eyes blazed like those of a maniac, and I couldn’t help but think that I could get used to seeing that expression of pure madness. “Oh, I’ve got an idea that will leave you spinning.”

           A minute later and Leo fashioned a tiny fleet of rubber band-and-paperclip helicopters to drop nails, tacks, balloons filled with motor oil, miniature failed-shabtis, and anything else we could quickly rig from my Duat locker and Leo’s tool belt.  I gave them some honing magic. [Leo later said we’d have to call Coach Gleeson to eat up the mess. I have a different respect for Camp Half-Blood, knowing one of their counselors is loony enough to eat metal.]

           Despite the heavy wind, his tiny contraptions flew brilliantly.

           Our cue to run up Camel Dung Mountain came about ten seconds later, when the enemy magician started screaming.

           The bursts of light and tremble of thunder continued at the base of the rock formation as we climbed. I hoped this Jason fellow was as accomplished as Leo claimed he was. I hadn’t heard Set gleefully giggling about ripping someone’s limbs off or turning Jason’s skeleton into a puppet, so that was a good sign.

           Climbing the mountain wasn’t easy. All we had was my wand and Leo’s flame for light, and the rock formation didn’t seem to like being compared to a camel toilet, as it kept trying to trip us, though from Set’s magic or our clumsiness, I wasn’t certain.

           Once we got close to the top, I shouted, “Sun-ah!”

           The hieroglyph for reveal appeared in the sky, and the shack and magician came back into view.

           “Wow,” Leo said.

           I seconded the notion.

           Leo’s fleet had worked marvelously.

           Two tiny helicopters still sputtered in the air. One dive-bombed the magician, dropping a wad of chewed gum into his eyes. [And Carter says I need to keep my locker cleaner. Imagine if I hadn’t.]

           As the magician was blinded, he shouted a spell to explode the other airborne helicopter. This released Tabasco sauce shrapnel everywhere, something Leo claimed was vital for any dragon workshop.

           The magician had just withdrawn the gum from his eyes when the spicy condiment struck his face.

           He screamed again. I almost felt bad for him.

           Now that we were up close and I had dissolved his invisibility spell, I could see he was roughly in his thirties. (As far as magicians go, that means nothing. The bloke could be 564 for all I cared or knew.) He was tall, with a traditional forked beard, and caramel skin. His white linen robes were edged with blue.

           This magician must have been a bit confused about the colors of Ma’at and chaos.

           One of my failed shabti creations had landed on his shoulder. It was a blobby humanoid shape without legs, something I imagined would crawl up from under my bed one night to take revenge for its creepy existence. It kept bludgeoning the magician with its deformed, flobby arms, shrieking, “die, bipedal swine!”

           As the poor magician frantically conjured milk to wash out his eyes and blast the shabti off his shoulder, something about him seemed familiar. I hoped this wasn’t someone else’s displaced, distant son or nephew of someone Carter and I had once fought.

           Either way, he had to go. He was standing between us and the ten by ten, rickety shack that shuddered violently in Jason and Set’s storm. Quite charming as godly penthouses go.

           “Sadie Kane!” the magician roared.

           Not sure how he detected us, but Leo and I exchanged a glance to claim KO rights. I won, of course.

           “My name is Mel!” the man said.

           “There’s a magician named Mel?” Leo asked, sounding amused.

           Mel continued, ignoring the mockery. “I’m from the First Nome and guarded it for centuries before the Kanes caused the death of Chief Lector Iskandar and Desjardins, put a minion of Set as the new Chief Lector, and turned Zia Rashid traitor. You escaped me once, but this time—“

           “That’s lovely and all. Goodbye, now,” I said.

           I blasted him with a spray of green light. He was so disgruntled, having been both sprayed with Tabasco sauce and milk, he didn’t have the awareness to counter.

           I envisioned Mel as something much more containable: a tiny, green lizard. Within seconds, I had asserted my will over him. The magician shrank in size until he was a cute, confused-looking gecko that slithered out from the linen robes.

           “Dude!” Leo said. Within seconds, he’d created a cage from scattered paperclips and quick finger-welding. He snatched up our transformed friend. He leveled the cage with the trapped lizard to his eyes. “I know you’re saying, ‘I-guana go now,” he said to the trapped lizard. “But we can’t have you escaping. Hey, Lady Sadie, what was that stuff he was talking about?”

           Leo attached the tiny cage to his tool belt and stepped towards the shack.

           We’d have to clear up all those lies later. I was still rather upset about the deaths of the previous Chief Lectors, especially since Iskandar had been nothing but kind to me and Desjardins died to save Carter and me. What he was referencing were lies that Sarah Jacobi had spread to make my family look like rubbish. It was amazing how much damage someone could cause after death, though, after stopping a poorly-dressed ghost from taking over the cosmos, I shouldn’t have been surprised.  

           “Oh, just some gossip our enemies spread to make us look like Big Bad Guys. You know how it goes.”

           Leo nodded sympathetically. “I was possessed by an eidolon once and it made me attack our friends’ camp with a warship. One ballista fire led to another, and then all the Romans are saying Greeks stink. So, uh, yea. I know a thing or two about bad press.”

           Although it sounded like that had happened awhile ago, Leo’s smile lost its brilliance.

           “We should have a chat about that over some ice cream,” I suggested, knowing some solid camaraderie over possession might lift his spirits. My Uncle Amos was an expert in such matters.

           Leo stopped walking towards the shack. He glanced over his shoulder in confusion and disbelief, like he thought I had chatted up one of the tumble weeds, which—with Set and Jason’s storm—were twirling in the air like startled goldfish.

           “Trapped goddess, “I reminded Leo, “Your friend fighting for our lives so Set doesn’t make us into finger puppets?” I dispelled a booby trap around the shack: sloppy and simple ones with easy-to-find hieroglyphs. Really, they don’t make clever, monomaniacal villains like they used to.

           The poor boy’s cheeks roughened. I do have that effect on people sometimes, though usually it’s because I’ve utterly humiliated them with my verbal wit. Although the scene of chaos around us was terrifying—what with the crashing debris, the flashes of lighting, and the dim glow of fire on Leo’s face from his lit hand—Leo looked quite cute.

           [What, Carter? Yes. I said it. Yes, I know Walt and Anubis can listen to this recording. Give me more credit than that.]

           As he ran to catch up, he said, “Careful. I’ve melted the heart of an Ice Goddess once. I’m dangerous around ice cream.”

           “We’ll have ourselves a double date, shall we? We can invite our godly boyfriend and girlfriend,” I suggested. I was going to say “to keep things from getting too hot,” but caught myself before those horrid words came out of my mouth. I really didn’t mean anything by that.

           I blame my embarrassment for almost doing something incorrigibly stupid.

           Leo and I busted our way into the shack door, which, really, we didn’t need to do. The shack almost fell over when we came through the entrance. Inside, the rattle of the ceiling as it strained against the storm was more alarming than the storm itself. Refer back to “don’t make monomaniacal villains like they used to” and add, “don’t make godly traps like they used to.”

           The wall and ceiling boards looked just as rickety and dilapidated inside as they did out. Talk about horror cinema center. There was a rusty, metal control board, like something out an old radio station, with levers and a giant red button that said Release and a giant green one that said Capture.

           A woman lay in the center of the red sand floor. Her dusty blonde hair rippled dimly, like sunlight filtering through a dirty window. The remains of a tattered sundress clung to her body, the color indiscernible in the glow of Leo’s fire. Heavy chains linked her hands and feet to the floor. Red wires ran from the chains to the control board.

           I’ll admit it: I walked right up to the control board to hit the giant red button.

           Obviously a trap? Highly likely.

           Did I care? I might have been a bit too flustered and distracted. Besides, I’d rather press first and handle consequences later.

           Leo grabbed my wrist before I could make contact. “Woah, Ladie Sadie, seriously? The Big Red Release button set up by two gods of chaos?”

           “What’s your plan instead?” I asked.

           The goddess drearily lifted her head at our voices. This Hemera looked downright knackered and I had the queer feeling Set had already started to picnic on her powers. She was lovely, as most goddesses tended to be. (If you can make yourself look like anything, why look any less than gorgeous, like my stupid boyfriend Anubis.) Her eyes appeared black in the darkness.

           “Who goes there?” she asked weakly and quite delayed.

           “Professional heroes. Saving the day and whatnot,” I said.

           “Just make sure you give us a Five Star Rating on RateMyHero, Madam Daylight,” Leo said. He sounded distracted as he looked over her chains. “Huh,” he said and snapped off a piece of the wire connecting the chains to the control panel.

           “What are you doing?!” I demanded. That, supposedly, was the way to unlock those chains.

           He grinned and popped the wire into his mouth and began to chew.

           Any previous attraction I felt for this demigod zapped away. Had he been switched out with a monster without me noticing? Or were all Greeks secretly this loony? Or was magical wiring secretly delicious?

           “It’s pieces of Twizzlers, the kind you can peel apart,” he said. “These chains aren’t actually hooked up.”

           Leo examined the control panel. He withdrew a screwdriver from his belt. With a few quick flicks of the wrist, he’d removed the front, metal covering to reveal a stack of dynamite underneath the Release button. He pointed to the wires connecting the button to the dynamite. “Those,” he said, “are real wires.”

           I blinked at the dynamite. The sight was so foreign, it almost looked cartoony. Despite being around so many ancient weapons and dangerous spells, it suddenly hit me how rarely I had seen modern-day weapons. We didn’t really do the gun thing in Britain and we didn’t have any modern weapons at Brooklyn House.

           “Ah, explosives,” I finally managed, “Well, that’s not very… magical or demigodly.”

           He withdrew the panel beside it to reveal some kind of net-system under the Capture button, something that looked primed to latch around a mammoth.

           “At least they’re honest about their advertising,” Leo said about the names of the buttons. “Eris doesn’t really seem to play on the normal demigod or magical level.”

           “So, if we’re not going to use the Big Red Button to open the chains, how do we open the chains? I don’t see a keyhole or even a break in the metal,” I asked, running through a list of spell words. Without a seam in the metal, the word “open” wouldn’t do anything. I had a few ideas, but, judging from how sturdy the shack was and the dynamite a few feet away, I feared I might blow us all up. I was good at that.

           “You can’t!” Hemera said. Her voice was weak. I had the distinct feeling she would put the back of her hand to her forehead if she had the strength. “The Spartans made these to trap Ares.” When she tried to lift a hand, the chains shimmered with red Greek writing. “He never found a way out. Sparta had to be destroyed to release him!”

           “Yea, well, I have something Ares didn’t,” Leo said. He tapped the work goggles out of his hair and over his eyes.

           Hemera looked Leo up and down skeptically. “The strength of Hercules?” She sounded hopeful.

           I choked on a laugh. As much as I liked the Latino Elf, he definitely didn’t have that.

           Leo reached into his magical tool belt and withdrew a circular saw with a glittering black blade and what appeared to be a massive battery packet. He grinned, snapping the battery packet into the saw, looking like a crazed serial killer. “Power tools.”

           Ah, the grand words of greatness from Admiral Leo. Some people make speeches about freedom. Some about justice. Leo about garage implements.

           [Carter thinks Leo was mental for thinking power tools could work on magical chains, but has Carter given real thought to magical power tools? Besides, Leo said he’d done this before on a different goddess’ cage. Carter just thinks Leo said that to chat me up.]

           As Leo’s saw whined to life, I fished through my supplies to withdraw a minor healing potion that Jazz, our healer, had made me. I popped off the top and offered it to Hemera, partially because she looked like she’d been through three of my brother’s lectures on the importance of dairy in Egyptian mythology, and partially because it kept her from staring in horror at the maniac demigod sawing so close to her skin.

           She was too weak to reach out. I propped her up in my lap to give her the potion and so Leo wouldn’t accidentally decapitate the poor woman in his power tool mania.

           I wasn’t sure how a magician’s potion would heal a goddess, but she seemed to perk up.

           “So, when we’re done releasing you,” I shouted over the whine of the saw and the scream when it touched the metal, “You can god your way over to Nyx and sort this kidnapping nonsense out? And maybe tell your godly mates to help Camp Half-Blood?”

           One of the shackles fell away from Hemera’s wrist. Apparently Ares’ chains were no match for the Valdezinator. Take that as a point towards brains over brawn.

           Hemera’s skin seemed to glow a bit brighter, though her head stayed lolled off to one side. She mouthed something, but her voice was too weak to be heard over the sawing.

           When the second chain fell and Leo went to shove his saw back into his tool belt, I could hear her say, “I can’t, young heroine. I don’t have the energy. Set has been feeding off me for too long. Alas, since I am no longer worshipped, I can’t recover my powers in a timely manner.”

           The last part sounded more like an apology for bollixing a dinner party invitation. I thought about the gods that I had seen at Sunny Acres Assisted Living Community, how their memories would fade with the memories of their worshipers, falling into senility as they were forgotten. I envisioned this pretty goddess in a smock with a walker and I felt a bit nauseous. Watching something immortal dying is nasty business.

           “Let’s get you out of here,” I suggested. I could give her a pep-talk later.

           For now, I slipped one hand under her arm to pull her up. Leo got her other side so we could drag her out of the shack. Not the most efficient way, having two tiny godlings lugging a goddess around, but we managed.

           Just in time too.

           As we exited the sad excuse for a building, a boy-and-horse-wrecking-ball catapulted into the roof of the shack. Instead of stopping there, like a good ball of destruction, it continued through, taking the roof and walls with it. The dynamite-rigged control box and chains were shockingly still intact, sitting out in the open as the rest of the building smashed into the side of Camel Dung Mountain. It exploded up in a poof of dust that got swept away by the storm. Hopefully that puff didn’t also contain scattered Jason particles.

           Dark laughter echoed around the desert.

           The flashes of lightning grew closer, brighter. A massive vortex of sand rose to our level on the mountain, making it look like the mountain itself was crumbling into the sandy floor. Because the light from Leo’s fire only extended a few meters, the storm look like it had encompassed the world.

           “Oh, that was fun, Pretty Boy!” Lapis and Set’s voices combined into one. They twirled the flaming battle axe in an arc around the dust storm. “Tossing you is almost as much fun as tossing Tuft-Ears!”

           Jason groaned out an answer. His horse had dissolved into a burst of lightning and was sparking back into horse shape further up the mountain. It didn’t look excited to be tossed again.

           Jason drearily dragged himself from the wreckage. He was bleeding from his mouth. His shirt sleeve and half his shirt had been burned away, and—in the dim lighting—it looked like the skin under had some nasty blisters. As he fished his gladius out of the debris, his left arm dangled uselessly behind him.

           Tenacious bloke, that one.

           Set’s host didn’t look like he was going to win a beauty pageant anytime soon either. Lapis’s eye was puffy from being hit. Blood soaked his right pant leg. His face had grown ashen and, despite the laugh, he grimaced in pain. Sand stuck to his face with the beaded sweat.

           This reminded me of when Uncle Amos tried to control Set: Lapis was struggling.

           “I’m ready to kill you now, if you don’t mind,” Set said, seeming not to notice his host’s pain.

           Last time I fought Set, I opened a portal to transport us out of the desert and plop us in Washington, D. C. And I had his secret name. However, last time, he hadn’t made an agreement at the start of the fight.

           I crossed my arms like an irritated mother—something I’d learned scarily well from Isis. “That would be a bit fussy, don’t you think?”

           “Killing you? I count on it!”

           “No, going back on a promise,” I said. “I’d say it’s been five minutes.”

           I had no proof, but clamoring up Mount Camel Dung in the dark felt like an eternity.

           A smirk slid onto Set’s face. “And how would you know, Little Sadie?”

           “We timed it,” Leo said.

           I thought he was reaching into his pocket for a watch and wanted to hug the demigod for his forethought. Instead, he withdrew two screws, a silver disk, a chain, some wires, and a small, flashing light from his tool belt, keeping his hands partially inside so only I could see the components. His fingers flashed overtop and, within seconds, he was presenting Set the most garage-style pocket watch ever invented.

           Fortunately, Set was not the god of super vision.

           Leo pointed to the blinking light. “See Ol’ Blinky here? It means the timer went off.”

           I wanted to hug Leo for a trait I valued much more than forethought: quick-thinking.

           “A deal is a deal,” I said.

           Set pouted. “Oh, come now, Sadie. At least let me rend the flesh from one of their bodies.”

           “Nope!” I put one finger up and waved it back and forth. “No flesh rending. Bad Set. Taking us back to our friends? Good Set.”

           He bellowed a laugh. “Assuming your friends are alive. Now, why do you think I picked five minutes?”

           The fire on his Egyptian axe poofed out. The dust storm started to die, lowering him several inches closer. Now that I was able to hear a little better, I could tell Lapis was panting.

           “You wanted enough time for a commercial break?” Leo guessed.

           “Because that’s exactly the amount of time it would take me to burn through Lapis’ life force if I didn’t give her enough extra power,” Set grinned. “Good luck getting to your friends in time.”

           Then his face went slack and his eyes closed.

           The dust storm collapsed.

           Lapis, and our chances of a quick ride out of here, fell out of the sky and plummeted to the bottom of Mount Camel Dung, unconscious.

Sorry for the missed chapters, guys. Admittedly, I’m trying to figure out the end of the series right now and none of my characters (or my own writing) is cooperating, so I lost some steam to get chapters out.

Regardless, i hope you enjoyed!!! I will try to be back to our normal output next week!

(As a quick hint-hint, one of the reasons I’m struggling with the end is because of a new project I started that i think you’ll all really enjoy! :D)

[brazenautomaton]

I wanna talk about power sets in superpowered movies in general, so it’s relevant to more than just the one person talking about Marvel’s Sailor Moon with me. I’ll make a reply for that separately. I think it’s an interesting thing and part of visual storytelling that people are kind of afraid to talk about for fear of being a turbonerd.

Battle scenes are important to a superhero movie, its plot and its emotional arc. They’re The Thing Superheroes Do, and it affirms their identity. A character’s super-powers and fighting style is part of their characterization, even if it doesn’t perfectly map to their personality. A generic power set on a superhero with a great personality is like a charismatic romantic lead who switches to a dull monotone during the love scene.

We need to be able to recognize the power set, it needs to be distinct, we need to be able to form expectations about it so we can be validated or surprised, it needs to have room to grow. Why are Spidey fights cool? We know he has a power set he can use in clever ways and he will do so. Why is Scarlet Witch lame? Her powers are so poorly defined it makes her a poorly defined character regardless of her expressed feelings. Why was I disappointed in Black Panther’s fight scene more than anything? Because his kinetic EX Burst was the thing he had that made him unique and he didn’t highlight it at all. Why did Wonder Woman shit the bed? It turned into a formless superhero slugfest with no stakes or meaning that expressed nothing.

Okay, so, like, one complaint about Infinity War is invalidates Thor: Ragnarok, which was an awesome movie. And that’s somewhat valid. But part of the complaint is “Thor lost Mjolnir and moved beyond it and realized he wasn’t the God of Hammers. Then in IW, his first prirority is to get a new hammer. (Also he gets a bionic eye after having his eye ripped out.)

Well, the eyepatch prop was a pain in the ass for Thor’s actor to wear. And let’s look at what he can do when he has Mjolnir: He’s strong and durable, but every superhero is and we expect that. He can bonk people with the hammer, or throw it at them, and we expect that too. He can crank the hammer to build momentum and then super-jump, which is visually distinct from how other heroes fly. He can throw the hammer at someone, move, and recall the hammer back to his new position to attack another enemy from behind. He can gingerly drop his hammer into or onto another enemy to incapacitate it because they are not “worthy” and cannot lift it. His hammer can track his location from great distances and make visually interesting scenes like in the fight in Thor 2, that whole thing was awesome, I don’t care how bad you thought the movie was. Anything that causes him or the hammer to gain momentum will believably cause his attack to gain force, in a way we understand without being told. I think he also ground-pounds with it to make a shockwave but I may be misremembering.

Now what do we see him do as Thunderstrike, the hammerless Thor? He’s strong and durable like we expect. He can conjure bolts of lightning from the sky to strike his enemies. He can directly throw bolts of lightning at his enemies. He can spray lightning from his body in every direction to hit many enemies. Any increase in the power of his attack has to be something we can’t see, unless he dunks them in water. 

There’s more things you can do with “lightning guy” (I should hope so) but it takes more expansion. It’s easy to see why they gave him a hammer back. I was surprised during Ragnarok that they showed him being so clever with Mjolnir and then took it away for a power set that he wasn’t as clever with.

Power sets can be pieces of equipment, obviously. That’s Iron Man, but it’s also Captain America (with his shield). Cap’s shield can be used to bash, it can block attacks, it can deflect attacks, it can be thrown and returned, it can be chain-bounced to multiple enemies. Those make him feel unique. A major problem with the Captain America side of the universe (in particular when crossovers get involved) is that it’s more of a Jason Bourne kind of thing, and everyone is a lot closer to “dude with guns”. If you don’t let them do their unique thing, they feel generic. Another part of why the Wakanda fight in Infinity War was the worst part of the movie. 

Cap without his shield may give stirring speeches like Cap but he doesn’t fight like Cap. Bucky Barnes is made distinct from Generic Supersoldier by his bionic arm, so that dude needs to be fucking grappling around like Nathan “Radd” Spencer, the Bionic Commando. Falcon is interesting when he’s fighting while using his drones, and not interesting when he’s Flying Guns Guy. Black Widow has a problem because she has no super powers or super gear, but is still a super hero, so she really needs to Not Be Fighting Like Other Supers. Iron Man 2 showed this at the best -- she’s a fast, nimble grappler who focuses on disabling -- but then she’s had problems Doing Her Thing against nonhuman enemies. She should probably be a sneaky rogue! If you’re setting a fight in a place with no cover and perfect sight lines where you can’t be a sneaky rogue, that’s your clue that you should not do that! (Everyone making any media involving fighting should play XCOM!)

Unfortunately there aren’t a lot of non-MCU examples to bring up in film for the examples of super power sets, because Marvel was the only one competent enough to get so many super-characters in the same context without kneecapping their own efforts. Also I have seen all the MCU because at worst they’re “all right”, but shit like Fant4stic I stayed away from like it was radioactive. I’d imagine Fant4stic has problems with this too. Wonder Woman’s finale certainly did, and Batman vs Superman had some underneath the other dumb things. Do not tell me “Oh, Worm is great about this!” I am not reading Worm. 

But if you think about it it’s not really just a superhero thing. It’s just of paramount importance to a superhero story. A fight scene, an action sequence, that’s still part of the story involving the characters. It should be doing something. All fight scenes should have stakes and context and rules, and this is just a part of that: what are the rules of what the character can do, and what is the context of the character who is doing it? How is it a thing this character does?

A fight should allow you to track the action, know what is going on, and form expectations about it so you can be validated or surprised. It should also let you know who it’s happening to! James Bond, John McClane, and Jason Bourne all take out dudes with guns, but they feel different. Bond is cool and composed (or if he’s not, that’s a sign Oh Boy These Things Are Serious) and on top of things. McClane is desperate but resourceful. Bourne is efficient and, well, blurry. 

I’m rambling. I’m probably just retreading some established old concepts that everyone already knows. But does anyone who doesn’t already know them agree with me?

[purpleocity]

Amnesia

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word count: 4,141

Summary: You and the Avengers are on a mission when you take a hit to the head, leading to amnesia. Steve and the rest of the Avengers struggle to cope as they realize it may not be temporary.

Warnings: Little angst, mild violence.

A/N: I feel like this whole concept is a little tropey, but it was definitely fun to write. I’ve got more stuff in store for you guys, so stick around!

        You let out a soft groan as you stretched and rolled over, facing Steve who lay on the bed next to you. He watched you with a loving gaze and smiled as you sleepily stared at him. 

"Hello," you said, placing a hand on his chest. He softly hummed in response and pressed a kiss to your forehead. "How long was I asleep?" you asked. He glanced over at the clock. It was almost half past two in the afternoon. "About a half hour. Do you feel better?"

You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair, scooting closer to him. "Yeah. I'm sleepy now." You hid your face in his chest, smiling at the way it shook as he chuckled. He touched your cheek and you looked up at him again. His eyes held such a joy you thought he might explode. "What?  Are you okay?" you asked. He laughed softly and pulled her into his embrace. "Yeah, I was just thinking about how much I love you."

You hummed. "How much might that be?" 

He cocked an eyebrow and looked as if he were going to make a little sarcastic comment, but the look melted and a gentle smile graced his features. "More than you can imagine."

You bit your lip as you smiled. "I love you too."

Steve's chaste kiss found your lips. Your eyes fluttered shut as you returned it. You felt butterflies in your stomach and you rested a hand on his cheek before he pulled away.

"Hungry?" he asked.

You nodded. "Starved."

"Lunch?"

"Sounds great."

          You ducked as a punch was thrown at your head. You stood straight and grabbed your attacker's arm, twisting it and then elbowing him in the side. You kicked his feet out from under him and then zapped him with your lightning, leaving him unconscious. Another HYDRA agent ran at you, brandishing a weapon. You swept his feet out from under him and electrocuted him. Tony flew over and shot a repulsor beam at a cluster of HYDRA agents. Not long after, Natasha sprung from the shadows and began fighting a group of three people. You glanced to the right and saw Steve being driven backward. He punched the agent in the stomach, then hit him across the face with his shield. The agent fell to the ground and Steve looked at you with a smile. It disappeared, sending a silent message. You whipped around and shocked two agents that attempted to sneak up on you. You smirked as they tensed up and fell to the ground. Steve nodded to you, his smile reappearing. "Captain Rogers!" Thor called from nearby to catch his attention. He shot a beam of his lighting and Steve deflected it, mowing down another group of agents. More people flooded from the base they were raiding. Arrows fell from the sky, and you guessed Clint was nearby firing them off. "Bruce, I think this is a code green," Natasha said over comms. "Are you sure?" his response came. She glanced at Steve, who nodded in agreement. "I’m sure," she replied. Bruce didn't respond, but they heard a nearby roar from "the other guy". You were pulled behind Steve's shield as a spray of bullets came from the large group of HYDRA agents. The Avengers were far outnumbered and outgunned, but you had your hopes high. You gave a small smile to Steve, who winked in reply. You conjured a ball of lightning to your palm, sending it into the crowd of adversaries. Several cries were heard as they fell, but it only weakened their numbers by a fraction. The Hulk showed up quickly, jumping into the chaos. "Avengers, asse—" Steve was cut off as he was knocked off his feet from a blast of an agent's weapon. You startled and reached in his direction. He lay there a little disoriented. "You good?" you asked. He gathered his wits and pushed himself back to his feet. He nodded. "Good," you laughed, "I thought I'd have to call Life Alert." He glared and raised an eyebrow at you, but your teasing ended there. The Avengers collected and ran at the HYDRA agents in front of them. You shot bolts of lightning this way and that, sending agents tumbling and unconscious. Steve's shield bounced off several agents, and back to him. You jumped up and kicked a HYDRA goon in the chest, propelling yourself from him and landing back on your feet before you knocked out another with a bolt of electricity. "Y/N," Steve called, hurling his shield, which hit three people before it came to you. You caught it and threw it back to Steve with a wink. "I got you, babe," you flirted. He would have made a little comeback but he was startled as you zapped a soldier behind him. You occupied yourself with three agents who started ganging up on you. You were backed into a small half circle of trees. One pulled a gun on you. You lunged for his wrist, twisting his arm behind his back. He let out a pained cry and elbowed you in the stomach. You held your abdomen and stumbled backwards. You regained yourself and then quickly butterfly kicked him, sending him to the ground. The other two ran at you, but you rolled on your shoulder, shocking the one you just took down, then standing to face the other two. You dropped into a fighting stance and awaited the attackers' next move. One ran at you and you thrust your hand to his chest, summoning all the electricity you could in a split second. He fell limp. Your other attacker made a grab for your neck, but you ducked and punched him in the stomach. He doubled over, but didn't fall. He made to punch you, but you drove your knee into his stomach while he was open. You elbowed him in the side of the head, but he caught your arm, twisting it and making you let out a sharp cry. While you were occupied, your first foe pushed himself from the ground, dusting the dirt from his uniform. He saw the scuffle between you and your current adversary, and joined in. He threw a punch, but you pulled your arm free and blocked it, then ducked as the other tried to hit you as well. You dropped to the ground and swept the feet out from under one, while the other tried throwing another punch. You stood straight again and made to elbow the agent in the stomach, but he blocked. You punched; he blocked. You kicked; he blocked. You threw another punch, and then you found yourself being shoved backward from a kick. You yelped before you hit the tree, then suddenly you were on the ground. You were seeing stars and losing your vision and hearing quickly. Your heart rate sped up. Both agents approached, but the last thing you remembered was two gunshots and their bodies falling limp to the ground.

         Steve heard you cry out and he kicked a HYDRA agent, sending him backward. He looked in the direction of your voice and saw you hit a tree and fall to the ground, unmoving. His eyes widened. "Natasha!" he called out. She followed his gaze, and as if she didn't even think about it, shot down the two agents advancing on you. He nodded to Natasha in thanks. Steve looked around the area, seeing this was a hopeless effort. "We need to retreat!" he said into comms. "Copy that," Tony replied. Steve put his shield on his back and ran to you, picking you up bridal style and holding you close to his chest. He was relieved when he saw you were merely unconscious. "That's right. You're good," he murmured more to himself than you. He jogged back toward the quinjet, hoping whatever injuries you’d sustained weren't too severe.

         The flight back to New York seemed endless. Steve was relieved when they landed. They got you to the doctors as quick as they could. He paced outside your room with his hands folded behind his back. He walked to the window and stared out at the setting sun. "Captain Rogers," Dr. Cho said, closing your door behind herself. Steve turned, a hopeful gleam in his eye. He took note of Dr. Cho's calm nature, which must have meant you weren't too severely injured. "Is she alright?" he blurted. He pursed his lips and ran a hand through his hair. Dr. Cho held back a smile. "I ran a few tests on her. It looks like she's received some head trauma. Pretty serious head trauma at that. It shouldn't have too much of an effect. I'd imagine she'll only be unconscious for a while." "Do you have an estimation of how long?" he asked. Dr. Cho thought for a moment, placing a hand on her hip. "I'm not entirely sure. Anywhere between two to seven hours. Maybe even longer." Steve felt himself tense and sighed. "Can I see her?" "Absolutely. Go on in." Steve nodded in thanks and opened your door. He saw you lying in your bed as if you were asleep. You looked very peaceful despite the little bruises and cuts that were scattered across your face. He approached the side of your bed and gazed at you with worry gripping him. He caressed your cheek and softly pressed a kiss to your forehead. He pulled up the stool from your desk and sat, folding his hands and resting his chin on them. He waited patiently.

         Minutes passed slowly as he waited. He only left once or twice to get something to eat or stretch his legs after a couple hours, but he stayed by your side otherwise. He picked up a book from one of the shelves and started reading. He only got a couple chapters in before you stirred. He set the book aside and his eyes brightened as you crinkled your nose and slowly opened your eyes. "Hey, Angelface." Confusion twisted your features for a moment. You were silent. "Um..." you slowly sat up. Your hand flew to your head. "Ow..." "Yeah, you took quite a hit back there." You looked him over, your eyes searching him as if you were looking for something. "What happened?" "We were raiding a HYDRA base and you hit your head. I'm so glad you're alright." Steve leaned over and hugged you. You tensed and politely nudged him back. You had a look of concern molding your features. "Are you okay?" he asked, gently touching the side of your face. You hesitated. "Um...do I know you?" Steve knit hit eyebrows and withdrew his hand. "Y/N, it's me. It’s Steve." You studied him for a long time. You scanned his features intently. When you didn't reply, his heart dropped. "Wait a second..." you mused. Steve felt a flicker of hope. "You're Steve Rogers...Captain America!" That wasn't exactly the answer he was looking for. "Wait...but you're dead." You looked just as confused as he did moments ago. "I...I was, I guess." "Then how—" "It's a long story," Steve cut in. "Hey, you've been out for a while, what do you say I go get you something to eat?" "That'd be great. Thank you." Steve stood and left your room, quietly closing the door behind himself. He sighed and let his gaze drop to the floor. "Cap, is Y/N okay?" Tony asked as he and Natasha approached. Steve hesitated. "She's...fine." "But?" Natasha cued. Steve closed his eyes again and looked out the window, turning to face it. "She doesn't know who I am." Natasha tilted her head. "What do you mean?" "I mean," He turned back to Nat and Tony, "she has amnesia. She doesn't remember me. She thinks...she thinks I'm still in the ice. I don't even think she knows she's an Avenger anymore." The words hurt to say. He hoped to God it was temporary. "Let me talk to her," Tony suggested. Steve shrugged, not stopping Tony as he entered your room.

         Questions stirred in your brain. You weren't entirely sure what you were doing in this room, though it was vaguely familiar. You wondered if it was some sort of recovery room. You furrowed your brow as you thought about the fact that Captain America was awaiting your awakening. Someone knocked on the door, pulling you from your train of thought before it could go anywhere. "Come in," you called. When the door opened, you saw a familiar face. Then it came back to you. "Tony? What are you doing here?" He smiled at you and approached the side of your bed. "I live here." "This is your apartment?" He snickered. "You could call it that. It's Stark Tower. I built it. This is your room." You squinted. "Really?" Tony nodded. "Yep." He sighed. "You have amnesia, Sparky." Sparky. You remembered that nickname. Where from though? You didn't realize how quiet you were or how long you thought. "Sparky?" Tony tried. "Y/N..." You snapped out of your trance and looked to Tony. "I have a feeling we're close...right?" Tony nodded. "Somewhat. Not as close as you and Cap, but..." "Cap?" "Steve." You nodded. "How do I know him?" you asked. You could tell Tony tried not to snicker. "You two are...you're kinda...you guys..." He shut up and thought for a second. "He's your boyfriend." You squinted at Tony. "I don't have a..." you trailed off. You shared an awkward glance with him. "I'm sorry. I...I think I need to sleep. Everything's a little fuzzy right now." "Yeah. Uh, you do that." He took a few steps toward the door. "Let JARVIS know if you need anything." "Jarvis?" Tony glanced upward. "The AI. You'll meet him soon enough." You nodded as he walked away. You watched him close the door. You then glanced around 'your room'. You bit your lip and took in each of your surroundings. You flipped the blankets back and swung your legs over the edge of the bed. You stood and paced to the window, glancing out over the city. The sun was setting slowly, casting an orange light along with shadows from the skyscrapers. You then crossed to your desk. You saw a picture of yourself and your mother smiling. You had vague memories of that day. You’d gone to a festival and gotten copious amounts of cotton candy and gotten sick. You pushed the thought aside and went on, running your fingertips over the top of the desk. You looked in the mirror and glanced at your reflection. You had a fairly decent wound on the side of your head and your eye was generously blackened, with several other scrapes and cuts about your features. You sighed and glanced at another picture. It was you and Captain Rogers. He stood with his arm around you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You were smiling brightly in the picture, and a soft blush covered your cheeks. You stared at the picture for a long time. You felt heat rise in your face the longer you stared. You wished you remembered that. It seemed like it must have been a wonderful thing, being in love with Captain America himself. You picked up the picture, looking at it for a few moments longer before you laid it on the desk face down. You went back to bed, falling asleep soon after pulling the blankets up over your shoulder and laying down your head.

         "You know, brooding isn't gonna help you much." Natasha found Steve in the lounge staring at the wall. "I'm not brooding--" "You're brooding." "...just thinking," he finished with a small glare. She sat on the couch next to him and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Whatcha thinking about?" she asked in a softer tone. He rubbed his eyes and sighed. "Y/N." Natasha have him a sympathetic look. "I understand this is rough. Is there anything I can do to help?" "Probably not." He stared at the wall again. "Thanks though." Natasha nodded in response and patted his shoulder. She stood and crossed to the doorway, stopping for a moment. She turned back to him. "Just let me know, 'kay?" Steve nodded. He looked up with his puppy dog stare as she walked away.

         The days passed as they normally would for Steve, save for the lack of you. He was surprised with himself and how often he wanted to go see you just for a cuddle or a quick kiss and even to see how you were doing. He had also realized how often he would most nights end up falling asleep with you before you lost your memories. His drive to go to you and just snuggle your memories back was surprisingly intense. He fought it for your comfort's sake. Every couple days, you would get a random memory. They were mostly scattered pieces and random things like a picture you drew for a friend or your sixth birthday. There was a point when you remembered going to see your family. You couldn't remember why you were doing that, but you were told it was because you'd been working with the Avengers and hadn’t seen your family in a while. You hadn't had many memories of working with the Avengers at all. Anything having to do with your relationships with them was very fuzzy and distorted. Steve would spend what time he could with you when you were in a central area and he wasn't busy. You both got along pretty well, but it was hard having to start from square one again with you.

        "So are we going to address...you know," you said, breaking the silence between the two of you as you looked through some old pictures of yourself on the iPad Tony had given you, "or are we going to act like it didn't happen?" Steve was caught somewhat off guard by that, but he closed his book and looked up at you. "Well I figured since you don't remember...I-I thought we'd leave it." "Oh come on, you act like it doesn't hurt. It's obvious that it bothers you." You laughed softly and set aside your device. You tucked your legs under yourself as you locked your gaze with Steve's. He didn't respond to what you said. He simply cast his eyes downward, rolling his lips. You tilted your head at him. "I can tell it bothers you because you do that little thing where you run your fingers through your hair and sigh and you rest your hand on the back of your neck," you prompted. He perked up and looked to you. "Wait what?" "I said--" "No, no, you remembered something." "Oh." You shrugged and bit your lip. "I kinda knew that I guess. Your mannerisms are very familiar. It's partly why I sort of make an effort to be around you. You're the most familiar thing I have right now." Steve found himself involuntary smiling. "Really?" You shrugged. "Yeah. That and your voice. I like listening to you speak." He laughed quietly and moved from the chair diagonal to you to the couch cushion next to you, making sure he was at a friendly distance as not to cross any boundaries. "That's not my point though," you reminded. Steve nodded. He exhaled and looked around the room. "Well what is there to talk about?" You looked at the floor and thought. "What happened? The day I lost my memories...I wanna know everything in as much detail as you can give." "Oh, well, um..." He explained the mission and the situation. Your adorable flirting and the quips you threw at each other were some things he remembered with surprisingly vivid detail. You were surprised. He explained the way that you had been cornered and thrown back before you hit your head. He tried to keep the plane ride brief too. "Honestly, I was worried you wouldn't wake up. I--" he trailed off. You waited in suspense. "You...?" Steve shook his head and waved the matter off. "It's nothing. I'm just glad you're alright." He sat back on the couch and folded his hands in his lap. You rested your hand ever so softly on his shoulder, making him look up and meet your eyes. "I'm really sorry." "No, no, don't be." "No, I see how much this hurts you. I honestly wish I remembered what we had. It must have been great. I just...I'm sorry." He shrugged. "Nothing you can do to fix it. It's alright." You leaned in and pressed a kiss to Steve's cheek. You blushed and stood, giving him a little smile before exiting the room. He watched you leave, a feeling of sadness hitting him. There you were, leaving again and you still weren't his. He ran his fingers through his hair and then rested his hand on the back of his neck. He laughed softly when he noticed he actually does that.

         You ran a hand across the shelf in your closet with a sigh. Every now and then you would find something that would make you ask yourself if you actually wore that. You left your closet and looked at the books on your bookshelf. You ran your fingertips over them and looked out at the cars driving by below. The sun was starting to sink behind the New York skyline. You sat on your bed and started staring into space. You felt a sense of regret within, not for anything you had done, but for what you couldn't do. You wanted to remember. You felt as if you had lost a piece of yourself with your memories. You had an amazing life. Hell, you were a superhero! That was your dream as a child with parents working with SHIELD. Not to mention what you must have had with Steve. He seemed like a great guy. You sighed again and lay back. To your dismay, you found that your headboard was closer than you thought, and it collided with the back of your head. You let out a surprised yelp and you sat up quickly. Your hand flew to the back of your head. You felt your head ache, and stars spattered your vision. You swore under your breath and grit your teeth. That hurt a lot. Almost as much as when you hit it the first time, only there's was less snow and you...wait a second. Despite the throbbing headache you had now, you were smiling brightly and your heart jumped with joy. You stood and stumbled a couple steps, then hurried to Steve's room. When you got there, you didn't even knock. you threw the door open and found Steve halfway to where you were. He froze mid step and wore a confused expression. You smiled brightly. "Steve..." you breathed before running to him. You threw your arms around him and kissed him full on the lips with passion. You laughed and smiled into the kiss, placing your hands on either side of his neck. He reluctantly returned your kiss and rested his hands on your waist. You pulled back for a moment, laughing joyously. "I remember!" you exclaimed. Steve's eyes lit up, and he returned your ecstatic laughter. He picked you up and spun you around, and when you were back on your feet, his lips crashed into yours again. You kissed and giggled and laughed and kissed some more. Steve would whisper "I love you" between each kiss, and each kiss grew more passionate.

You both ended up tangled together on the bed, all of your kisses and touches lost within a blur of joy and excitement. You prolonged the kiss as much as you could, but eventually, you had to breathe. You hesitantly pulled away from each other. Steve rested his forehead on yours and wrapped his arms snug around your waist. He kissed your nose. "I love you," Steve murmured again as he buried his face in your shoulder, hugging you tightly. "I love you too," you replied equally as quiet. You still found yourself unable to stop smiling. You pushed yourself back a little so you  could look into his eyes. You couldn't quite tell what emotions were behind them, you just knew there were many. Your brow furrowed a little in confusion. "What?"  "I just love you so much," he said, squeezing you. "You said that already," you teased. He laughed. "I figured it was worth repeating. I missed having you." You smiled and ran your fingertips over his chest. "You're the best," you murmured sleepily. "I'm not so sure about that." "Oh hush. Let me love you." You laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his lips again. The pair of you shared many sleepy kisses and soft laughter as you dozed off.

[essu-rwby-desu]

                                    Chapter 2: Dread in the Air Reaction  

                                                    -LONG POST-

LETTTTS GOOOOO!

GEOFFRY~ (If you’re an Achievement Hunter fan, then you know how it sounds when they say it. Also could you imagine Geoff actually voicing Wats or Arthur or whatever his name is?)

Ah I get it. Cowardly Lion. Ozpin. Glynda Goodwitch. Wizard of Oz. HARHARHARHAR- 

That being said, is Ironwood really suppose to be the Tin man? Cuz there’s two more schools left and that leaves enough room for Tin man and Scarecrow. I MEAN IM JUST SAYIN’.

-Insert anything that Geoff Ramsey might say- 

“Anime was a mistake.” I’ll just leave it at that.

“If Ruby Rose has learned to harness her gift, then you must take care to protect yours.”

We still don’t know jack shit about what Silver Eye’d owners can do, but this implies that they can do something to the Maidens power? 

Like if Ruby learns to go Full-Silver, can she suck the Maiden powers right out of Cinder? Do the power of the Silver Eyes just nullify the Maidens? Or does it just simply mean that Ruby could just eviscerate Cinder in. A blink. Of an eye? Eh? Eh?

“Tell Tyrion that I’d like to have a word with him.”

Da Smirk™

Boi is gonna get more than his tail cut off.

I’ve personally have not worn a skirt (at least not in a very long time), but. 

Her butt.

It must be cold and in pain from sitting on, what I presume, a metal container. AND ON A CARGO SHIP- NOT A NORMAL AIRPLANE. I JUST GOT BACK FROM A TRIP ON AN AIRPLANE RIDE. TURBULENCE MAN. That can’t be comfortable.

These 2 seconds of animation, pose, and lighting. Like. It’s really good. The animation felt really natural and the lighting/shadows and pose reads really well. I would recommend to watch this bit again to see what I’m talking about. 

One thing I would like to see improve is the lip sync/animation. 

She says “Where are we?” 

As odd as this is gonna sound to people who don’t animate, her lips should visually read “OoAh-Ah-OOee” than “Mah mah me.”

BUT THIS IS STILL GOOD NONETHELESS.

“Lancers. Freakin’ Lancers.”

YOU GUYS DON’T EVEN NEED TO BE GRIMM TO BE COMPLETE ASSHOLES. REAL LIFE WASPS ARE ALREADY A NEST OF DICKS.

“Officially: No. Actually: Yes.”

Time to exterminate these BAHSTAHDS.

What is this pose tho.

A very good frame.

Next to shooting elemental spells and summoning, I want to see Weiss just. Conjure a bunch of freakin’ weapons that shoot out of her glyphs. 

Weiss confirmed as the Heroic Spirit Gilgamesh.

Just look at her be magical.

Aw. She used an icy shield. What happened to her red glowy deflecting spell from the White Trailer? :<

Crater Face V2.

But seriously, just look at this screenshot; it’s like it’s from a traditional 2d anime. BUT IT’S IN 3D. Technical advances!

Damn, compared to her normal glyph, the summoning glyph has like 7 layers.

THERE IT IS YO. Though not really a knight-like stance :P

IT’S NOT AN RT VEHICLE FIGHT SCENE WITHOUT JUMPING OUT SAID VEHICLE.

K.O. - UWAH, UWAh, Uwah, uwah… -

WE’RE GOIN DOWWWWWNNNNN-

You can skip to the next image since these next couple of paragraphs are a head canon I came up with prior to V5.

I had a head canon that if the ship were to crash before Weiss got to her destination, she would have a case of amnesia; Waking up in the forest on fire, and having to make away from the wreckage, only later, at a safer place, discover she doesn’t remember who she is.

Long Story Short: She finds herself at some small village or town, cuts her hair, gets a new outfit, tries to find answers, but to make enough money to survive, becomes singer at a cafe/bar (also somehow despite forgetting a lot of things, knows how to play the guitar :P). Then she sees or hears on tv something about Haven Academy being attacked and sees Ruby and the rest on screen and be like “Hey those people are on my scroll thingy mabobber. Maybe they know who I am.”, remembers a few things everything, then yaddie yaddie yah, blah blah blah, rushes there, and then you have ½ of team RWBY back together.

Yo. Like. Fucking. Yo. I like her design very much.

YOU WERE THE CHOSE ONE. IT WAS SAID THAT YOU WOULD SAVE THE FAUNUS, NOT DOOM THEM TO A WAR AGAINST THE HUMANS. BRING BALANCE TO FAUNUS AND HUMANS, NOT LEAVE THEM IN BLOOD SHED.

God Damnit Adam.

“…they are examples of your short-sightedness.”

Well. Maybe if he took that visor off he would get a better view of the bigger picture. Haha. Jokes. Ez mode.

Don’t know much about Hazel, but I definitely like him more than Tyrion and Arthur.

Hm. What are those scars on his arm? Right where his shirt stops.

Nope. Don’t do it you fucker. Don’t get any closer.

“Humans should not just fear the Faunus, they should serve the Faunus.”

:|

Hazle: What are you doing?

Seriously. Wtf are you doing Adam.

Don’t you fuckin-

God-

DAMN IT, ADAM. First you stab Blake, then you cut off Yang’s arm, now you’re stabbing your boss? Honestly, of all the villains, I want Adam to be completely sliced the fuck up.

………..she’s so smol….

You know what. I doubt she’s actually dead. Like...

From a design stand point, they probably put in a lot of effort to design Sienna. They could’ve modeled some generic person and then killed them off, but she’s intricately designed. 

Look: She has stripes, she has a white spot on her ear, she has detailed clothes, a VERY distinguishable hair style. Like why would you put so much effort into one character you’re gonna throw away.

From a character stand point, if she survives, shes not gonna be strong after a stab straight through the stomach. Shes going to have to retreat. Find a safe place and recover. And perhaps plot revenge against Adam. Plus, she was the head hancho of the White Fang. She probably knows EVERYTHING (except her attempted assassination) about what their operations, bases, and intel are. I mean she could go to the Belladonna’s for help, despite their differences of what the White Fang should be, but it wouldn’t be to stop and change the White Fang, it’s to straight up stop and murder Adam’s  fuckboi ass.

But if she’s actually dead, then fuck me right?

“Nobody needed to die today.”

I, uh, wouldn’t be asking for help from people carrying a machete around.

Mama Bird just caught herself a nice treat.

WAIT, NO NOT THE FAC-

                                      Well alrighty then! That’s Chapter 2. 

                                                       Fuck Adam.

[marvel-daydreamers]

Daydream Believer

Avengers x Reader

Word Count: 1,207

Warnings: None, just some basic action

Author: Katy

Request: Can I have one where reader is learning how to control some of her powers (elements) so she meditates at home, let's her mind wander thinking what it would be like to be an avenger. She opens her eyes to find herself sitting on a table in front of all the avengers while they were eating breakfast. All looking at her like 'wtf just happened ' She just laughs and gets all star struck

A/N: Hello! Kate and I are so sorry for not posting in awhile, we’ve been super busy with school, band, and friend drama! We hope to get back onto things and finish some requests! Thank you for all your patience, hope you like this one it’s from a while ago, but I felt I needed to finish it before moving to the new requests (P.S. I changed it from the request just a little, sorry)

You quickly strode through the living room and kitchen to your room. You prayed that no one would discover you had arrived home. Today had been absolutely horrible. Things had, well, gotten out-of-hand at school. You may or may not have accidentally flooded the bathrooms when someone had slammed you against a locker. The school had to deal with your little ‘outbursts’ for quite some time now. Books bursting into flames, strong breezes toppling stacks of papers, carnivorous plants biting people, you know, the usual for you. This time, like every other time, they had no proof it was you. Although, people still glared and mocked you. You knew you needed to take control of these unique powers, so you often meditated to help. Although the meditation's effect usually didn’t last long.

You crossed your legs and set your hands gently onto your knees. Taking deep, constant breaths your heart slowed down and you felt complete calm.

As your head cleared of all memories and thoughts, a new world began to develop in front of you. Your dream world opened and you saw a forest surrounding you. Large maple and pine trees stretched up to the sky. You breathed in the amazing natural scent. This place felt faintly familiar. Maybe you’d been there before, yes, you definitely had. It took you minute, but you knew this was the quiet forest you had spent many days wandering. A slight buzzing noise snapped you out of your pondering. You turned to your left where you saw a small break in the trees; out of the clearing appeared a gray Harley-Davidson driven by a muscular man. Your brain made the connection slower than expected, it was...Steve Rogers?! The bike stopped near you.

“Want a ride, kid?” Steve raised his eyebrow and offered you a seat. You weren’t sure why you accepted, but it felt right. You straddled the motorcycle and off you went. The large, green trees flew by you.

“You’re going to want to hold on tight,” Steve shouted over the engine noise. You wrapped your arms around Roger’s waist, just as the bike hit a few bumps. Your senses felt overloaded, but it was amazing.

After a short drive, a wide clearing revealed a nicely sized house and a shabby old barn. Nothing seemed out of place until the the bike turned around the barn. A large helicopter sat on the grass, the blades began to spin.

“Looks like they’re all ready to go,” Steve offered you a hand off the bike and the two of you approached the copter. A man with styled black hair opened the wide door. A memory popped into your head and you recognized the man as Tony Stark.

“Hey Rogers, I can see you’ve found Y/N,” he smirked and helped you step into the aircraft. Once you were settled into a seat and given headphones, you finally decided to speak up. You bent the microphone attached to the headset towards your mouth and spoke.

“Uh, so why did you bring me here?”

“What do mean, Y/n? You’re an Avenger, this is just a routine mission,” Tony’s voice sounded through the headphones.

“What will this mission involve?” You wondered, also, why in the world you would be an Avenger?

“Well, there’s a secret group we’ve been tracking for months, and they’ve finally come out of hiding. We’re hoping to catch ‘em before they get into serious trouble. We were also hoping that you could use your…,” he paused and you just gave him a confused look, “your, powers.” For a second you were unsure what he meant, but a sudden burst of memories struck you. Oh, those powers, the ones you had used thousands of times and gotten yourself into trouble with. Tony saw the understanding bloom on you face and decided to leave it at that.

The helicopter landed on a fairly tall building near the edge of a big city. The surrounding buildings looked pretty sketchy. Tony, Steve, and you exited the helicopter. Steve equipped with his shield, and Tony with a briefcase. Tony laid the case on the ground and stepped on it. The case moved around his feet and built up into a full Iron Man suit. For some odd reason this suit assembly didn’t even faze you. The three of you took a set of dirty stairs to the main floor of the building. Steve led the team outside and through a few small alleyways. Finally, you reached an old warehouse. Steve crept inside first and motioned for you and Stark to follow. From behind a few crates you could see a large group of masked people, they carried massive weapons. They seemed to be testing the weapons, and you realized why you’d be helpful during this mission. A burly man was fitted with a large backpack with gas tanks, hooked up to a hose like piece. He pointed the nozzle to one of the bare, concrete walls and a bright stream of fire burst out.

Steve turned towards you. “We were hoping you’d be able to hold that one off while we took care of the others.” You swallowed the lump forming in your throat and nodded. “Okay on the count of three be ready to control those flames, don’t worry about anything else and you’ll be fine. One… Two… Three!” The two of them sprinted towards the dark clothed enemies. There attention was turned from the man with a flamethrower and they all launched into action. Steve took on two at a time, deflecting bullets and getting a few kicks in. Tony blasted those running near him. The large ‘flamethrower man’ also joined in the fight, but as fire flickered out towards Steve, you concentrated all of your willpower into moving the flames aside. The man was severely confused and continued pursuing Steve, but to no avail. After the rest of the people had been ‘taken care of’, Tony nodded in your direction. You took the signal as a queue to turn the flames off entirely. You closed your eyes and managed to conjure enough strength to extinguish the fire altogether.

Woah, that’s all you could say. You couldn’t remember ever feeling so alive and useful. Tony and Steve approached you with smiles and patted you on the back.

“Y/n! It’s time for dinner, we got some Shawarma!” A distant voice called you from your dream. You had almost forgotten that the battle that had taken place in that abandoned warehouse was just your imagination. You hopped off your bed and walked towards the kitchen. Your memories of getting busted at school came back and you felt upset again. You rounded the corner and seated at the table was… Steve Rogers! Tony Stark?! Natasha Romanoff??  You stood in the hallway with your jaw closer to the floor than it should have been.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?” Natasha asked after taking a small bite of her food.

“Um, um nothing… I just forgot…”

“Forgot what…?” Steve looked concerned with your current expression.

“Oh, it’s nothing, nevermind,” you looked down and blushed. How in the world had you forgotten that you weren’t just an Avenger in your day dreams, but in real life too?

Taglist:

@rxchelpxng

[spookysummersmores]

Mind Heist - Chapter 5

Word count: 2,791

Author's note: What's this? Two chapters posted within the span of a week? I'm on a roll! xD 

It's time for an epic dreamscape battle, boys and girls! I had a total BLAST writing this chapter because my portions of the dreamscape battle gave me the chance to just let my imagination run WILD! :D 

A HUGE thank you to @ichipine  for their ADORABLE contributions to the whole chapter, ESPECIALLY the combat tactic ideas for the battle scene! ❤

Also, @choc-chip-pancakes! There's one part of this chapter that I think you'll REALLY enjoy...heehee...

Thanks again for all your support, and I hope you enjoy! Chapter 6 coming soon! ^-^

Bill suddenly appeared above the puppet arachnid, looking very pleased with himself. "Well! What do we have here? I see you've met my friend!" he said gleefully, petting the horrid creature as if it were a dog.

Mabel continued to cling onto Dipper, unsure of what to say or do, but silently attempting to come up with a plan. Dipper, terrified as he was, mustered up the courage to say something.

"A-alright, Bill...this is getting old. Just get out of my head! There's no way I'm giving you whatever it is you want! I'll...I'll..."

His voice trailed off as he tried his best to come up with a plan of his own. A million thoughts were running through his head, but nothing was coherent. Though he didn't FEEL sick inside his dreamscape, the sickness coursing through him was corrupting and scrambling his thought process.

The woods continued to grow darker. The flashlights no longer seemed to be doing any good. Even Bill's eerie golden glow seemed to have dimmed, but Bill paid no mind. He was too busy enjoying himself.

"Not so easy facing me when your own body temperature is betraying you, huh, Pine Tree? Whaddya got? I DARE you to try something," Bill taunted, sounding awfully smug.

"Aw, shut up and leave Dipper alone! YOU...dare YOURSELF to do something!" Mabel shot back. She wasn't particularly good at crafting insults, but she had at least tried. Her own mind had gone blank, and she, too, was starting to panic. She worriedly looked over at Dipper and whispered to him. "Any ideas? There has to be SOMETHING we can use against him..."

"Nnngh, I'm trying...I know there's something we've never tried, but...I don't remember..." He silently tried to get his thoughts in order, but of course, every anxious musing was echoed back to him by the environment he stood in, and Bill heard it all.

'What the heck? Since when can't I think of a plan?! What are we gonna do, THINK, you've got to think of SOMETHING before-'

Bill was thoroughly enjoying every second. "You know, Pine Tree, you've made ME realize something. NOW I remember why you were the first body I'd invaded in 30 years...because immortals HAVE no weaknesses!" he said, laughing evilly to himself.

Even though she knew it wouldn't do any good, the normally pacifistic Mabel was ready to punch Bill's lights out.

Just as she raised her little fists and prepared to try, Dipper reached his limit.

"Aaaaah...get OUT of my THOUGHTS!" he cried out.

The shout echoed through the nightmarish woods, bringing everything to a halt and clearing the encroaching black mist from the area. At the same time, a golden cage appeared around Bill, trapping him inside. The hideous puppet creature grew apprehensive and darted off to parts unknown.

"WHAT the-? Are you KIDDING me?! THIS again?" Bill cried out angrily.

Dipper gasped. "Wha...what did I just do? All I did was think of..."

"Wait...Dipper, that's it!" A huge smile returned to Mabel's face. "Just think of anything and it'll happen! Just like we did in Grunkle Stan's head!"

Dipper gasps. "YES! We'll have more time to formulate a plan that way! How...how did I forget that?" he said, pretty annoyed with himself. The fight to save Stan's mind from Bill's clutches had been one of the most memorable experiences of the whole summer. Mabel patted his shoulder.

"LOOK. AT. THAT..."

Before either twin could do anything else, Bill shapeshifted into a stick and floated right between the bars.

"The mortal children still think they can beat me with kitten fists and laser eyes!" Bill said. "Look, if it's a fight you want, by all means - step up and fight! That way, I'll just get to DESTROY YOU FASTER!"

"You'll never destroy us, you weirdo!" As Mabel spoke, she thought up paper lanterns in a variety of colors, and they appeared in the air all around the three of them, illuminating the gloomy area with a soft, almost angelic glow. "Not when we've got MINDSCAPE MAGIC!"

"Awwwww, isn't that cute!" Bill retorted in the most condescending tone possible. "Thanks for making things easier on ME, Shooting Star!" He snapped his fingers, and hundreds of knives and blades materialized. With a flick of his wrist, they went hurtling toward the twins.

The twins both dodged in unison, and custom shields decorated to each twin's liking appeared in their hands simultaneously, affectively deflecting the spears. They popped up from behind their shields and looked at each other in amazement, then gave each other finger guns and said, "NICE!"

Suddenly, FORKS, of all things - selected as a weapon by Bill because of their significance during the Bipper incident - came shooting at the young twins like bullets, and they had just a second to dodge them.

"Forks? REALLY?" Dipper said in frustration. Bill cackled in response.

Dipper emerged from behind his shield. A proton pack, not unlike the ones he'd seen in ghost-hunting flicks he'd loved since he was a small fry, materialized in his hand, and the laser beams that he shot from it not only disintegrated the fork missiles, but also punched holes directly through Bill's body, leaving him looking more like a piece of Swiss cheese than the evil nacho he usually was.

The Mystery Twins stifled their laughter. "Huh...what do you know? Works on DEMONS just as well as it does on ghosts," Dipper cracked.

Bill shrieked with anger as the gaping holes in his form filled back in. Then, his ribbon-like arm morphed into a lasso, and he hurled it straight at Dipper.

"AAH!" the twins yelped in unison. Within a split second, Mabel pushed Dipper behind her, rolled them both out of the reach of the arm rope, and jumped to her feet in order to shield him. "Oh, NO, you don't!" she cried as she thought up a stuffed animal cannon and started rapid-firing teddy bear bombs at the demon.

Bill didn't even have a chance to resist before he was buried underneath an explosion of pastel-colored fluff. "UGH! The POLYESTER CUTENESS! How don't humans consider this TORTURE?" was the muffled cry that rose up from underneath the pile.

Mabel's only response was a raspberry.

Meanwhile, as Bill struggled to escape from the plush bullets being fired at him, Dipper conjured up his most prized 'Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons' creation - a weapon that had the powers of a standard sword, a mace, and a lightsaber combined. While Bill's back was turned, he went in for what he was sure would be the perfect sneak attack.

At that moment, the plushies surrounding Bill turned to ash, and he rose from the pile to deflect Dipper's sword with his own arm just as it was about to strike him.

The two engaged in a brief sword fight. On and on it seemed to go, the clanking of metal ringing through the forest like a school bell. Dipper lasted a lot longer than Bill had expected him to, but soon, Dipper found himself struggling to keep up with Bill. It was strange; he'd never felt so drained inside of his DREAMSCAPE before...

It was clear to Mabel that Dipper was beginning to lose, and so she quickly came up with a plan. She ditched the plushie cannon and conjured up a small, crystalline, star-shaped compact. It was fortunate that she did, for just as it appeared in her hand, she saw Bill knock Dipper's prized sword out of his hand.

Dipper ran to retrieve it, but quick as lightning, Bill snatched it up and held it to Dipper's throat, to Mabel's horror.

"NO!"

In an instant, Mabel clapped the center button twice as if the compact were a castanet, placed it around her neck, and let the device do its work. This caught Bill's attention before he could harm the boy in his grasp, and so he and Dipper both watched as Mabel was instantly consumed by clouds of galaxy-print magic. In just a second, her clothes transformed into the fluffy, lace-trimmed, multicolored uniform of a witch apprentice straight out of a Saturday morning magical-girl anime.

"Alright, Bill...no more games!" she cried out as she stood bravely before the deranged demon. She summoned her wand, a handle resembling a pink-and-white peppermint stick with a rainbow-beaded star topper that matched her compact. "In the name of the stars above...prepare to be punished!" she cried out in true magical-girl fashion. Then, she couldn't help but grin. "YES! I've ALWAYS WANTED to say that!"

Bill dropped Dipper and laughed in response. "What is this, Halloween?! What's that eyestrain-inducing piece of plastic going to do?"

"Ohhh, just...THIS." Mabel twirled around and thrust her arms into the air as she cried out, "Valentine Conversation Heart...ATTACK!"

Her magic wand produced a pink stream of glitter and light, filled with tiny pastel candy hearts, that smacked Bill right in the face.

"Whoa!" Dipper stood watching in awe, laughing a bit, as he pulled himself to his feet. There was Bill, being beaten up by what looked like a giant stream of cotton candy.

But it didn't last long.

Bill soon retaliated with a stream of hellish-red liquid fire.

Mabel stood her ground and pushed back against the dark magic for as long as she could, but to her dismay, her magical beam of candy hearts began to melt under the heat of Bill's lava blast. She struggled to keep the magic from fizzling out, but Bill's blast was starting to push her backward, and she was beginning to lose her footing.

"MABEL!" Dipper cried out in fear.

"DIPPER! How are we gonna lose him?!" Mabel responded, sounding rather frightened herself.

Dipper thought for a second. Then...lightbulb!

(No, a lightbulb actually appeared.)

He couldn't help but laugh. "I always thought that only happened in cartoons. Cool!" Then he yelled to Bill in order to get his attention. "Hey, BILL! Try THIS on for size!" He pulled what appeared to be a simple red and white ball out of his pocket.

"HA! If your SISTER'S toys aren't stopping me, what makes you think an oversized fishing bobber is gonna help?" Bill scoffed as he effortlessly continued blasting at Mabel's wand without even looking.

"Well... I think the friend IN this oversized fishing bobber juuust might..."

Suddenly, Dipper's normal hat and vest transformed into that of a decorated Monstermon master. He held the shiny little plastic capsule out in front of him...and...

"Torkomon, I choose YOU!"

He tossed the ball out in front of him as far as he could. As it hit the ground, out of the strange ball came a shiny turtle creature whose shell seemed to be made out of volcanic rock.

"Torkomon...use Smoke and Mirrors!"

Suddenly, Bill was blindsided - literally - by a giant cloud of thick white smoke.

Bill instantly ceased fire and screamed. "AAAAAAH! COME ON! I JUST got laser correction done on this eye!"

Mabel, too, ceased fire and cheered. "Alright, Dipper! Let's get out of here while he's distracted!" She took Dipper's hand, and with Bill caught in smoke, the two of them made their escape. As they ran, Dipper scooped up the little tortoise creature and perched it atop his shoulder as if it were a parrot.

As the twins exited the forest, they gasped at the sight that laid before them. The overgrown nightmare roots were completely out of control. There were at least 50 of them now, and several had inched so far out that they were merely 20 or so feet from the mind library.

"Ohhhh, jeez...now I see what you were talking about..." Dipper said, shuddering at the sight. "This...can't be good...Bill must be trying to make my own nightmares consume my mind!"

"Then there's definitely no time to waste. Come on!" Mabel used her wand and summoned a 'rainbow sugar bomb' to clear a path before them as they ran.

"That...is pretty awesome," Dipper admitted with a laugh. "I underestimated those weird anime things Candy got you into."

"Toldja they were just as good as comic book superheroes!" Mabel teased, just slightly. Then it was her turn to admit something. "Guess I underestimated Monstermon, too! You are one CRAZY POWERFUL little cutie!" she cooed as she cupped the turtle's little head in her hands. "You ready to come up with a plan, bro-bro?"

"Oh, yeah, I-" Dipper pulled her to a stop, just briefly. "Wait. That smoke's...probably not gonna last long enough for us to get back and...put a plan into motion. Maybe I should-"

"Nah, nah, it's okay! Leave it to Mabel," Mabel responded, taking notice of how oddly out-of-breath Dipper seemed to be. (She had to wonder how it was even possible to BE out of breath in a DREAM.) She quickly thought up another diversion. "Done!"

"What'd you do?" Dipper questioned. He hadn't seen anything appear.

"Ohhhh, let's just say Bill's gonna find himself in a pretty...STICKY situation!" Mabel joked, giggling afterward.

"Pffff, you're such a dork..." Dipper said, playfully punching her in the arm as they picked up their pace.

The twins hastily made it back to the now-well-illuminated mind library and headed to the top floor as quickly as they could. They soon arrived in front of the top-secret Journal 3 section of the library - a small room with an ornate door covered in encrypted messages and adorned with one giant combination lock.

"Okay...this one I keep under lock and key...for obvious reasons." He spun the letter slots to the correct combination - S-U-R-W-R-Q-S-D-F-N - and the twins worked together to push the door open before quickly relocking it behind them. Inside the tiny room was a set of file cabinets containing all of the journal pages Dipper had managed to memorize - archives.

"Alright...now let's see...there's a spell I happened to see in the journal once, but it was only visible under a blacklight. A crystal demon trap that'll incapacitate and banish an evil entity for an extended period of time. It's a quick fix, but at least it's something, and we won't have to worry about him for a while...hopefully..." He sighed. "Hoping I even HAVE the whole thing in here...I don't have the whole journal memorized verbatim. Yet." He cleared his throat nervously. 'One of my, uh...summer goals."

Mabel couldn't help but giggle, just a little, at how nerdy that sounded, but she shut up when Dipper shot her a tired look that seemed to say, "Really?"

"Right. Well, if it's in here somewhere, we should probably start looking for it," Mabel said with a smile. "Let's get searching!"

The twins conjured up blacklights and began rummaging through the archives, trying to find it. At first, neither of them have much luck, but soon...

"Oh, oh, look! I think I found it!" Mabel skipped back over to Dipper, a frayed journal entry in her hand containing text written in a strange symbol cipher. "When you put the light on it, the top of the page says it's about a demon trap, but almost the whole rest looks kinda...Latin-ish...I think...?"

Dipper clicked his blacklight on over it and grinned. "Haha, YES! This is it! And from the looks of it, it's all here!" he whisper-yelled. He highfived her. "Nice!"

Wasting no time, they sneakily left and relocked the journal room, then hid themselves behind a bookcase in the "creature encounters" section of the next floor down so they could read over the spell and plan their attack.

Dipper was relieved to be able to sit down. "Okay...so...according to this...in order to create the trap, we first need...crystals. Three of them. Like the ones drawn here."

"Got it!" Mabel thought them up, and they manifested in her hands. "Daaaang...if we didn't need these, they would SO be perfect for earrings..." she said dreamily.

Dipper just shook his head and tried not to laugh. "Only you. Now...we need to arrange them in a...triangular trinity pattern. Huh, that's...actually a pretty fitting design for a Bill trap. So then if we could just find something to attach them-"

Before he could finish his sentence...two arms phased THROUGH THE WALL behind them without them knowing, and one hand was clapped over each twin's eyes.

Mabel giggled. "Nice try, Dipper, but..." Her smile faded once she realized it was most definitely not Dipper.

"M-Mabel?" he stammered, not knowing she'd already figured out that something wasn't right. "That's not-"

"Who's up for a game of GUESS WHO?" boomed a third voice, the last two words being spoken in a sinister bass tone.

The sound of despicably evil laughter soon filled the small chambers as the twins found themselves being pulled through the wall and into the main hall of the mind library.

[zacknano17]

Day 23 & 24: words 44,048 - 47,233

In which, Kravitz makes a wager and Merle advocates for the spiritual lives of plants.

Rebekah is almost glowing with power, now.  She rises up off the ground, bits of stone caught in her aura around her.  Her hair floats upwards. The monocle is a pure white circle against her face, radiating its power outwards from her.  The fissures in her skin are even glowing.

It's Magnus who moves first, unsurprisingly.  He runs toward her, but even as his ax crashes down against her, a wide shield of rock materializes in front of her, easily deflecting Magnus' blow.

Rebekah responds by holding out one hand.  A burst of color erupts from her palm, a dazzling array spiraling towards Magnus.  The attack hits him full on in the face, causing him to stagger backwards and utter a shout of surprise.  He rights himself easily, apparently unhurt, but he scrubs furiously at his eyes.

“Guys? I'm blinded, help me out?”  He uneasily pulls out his shield again.

Kravitz doesn't pay attention to what Merle does, only vaguely aware of the holy light spilling out of the cleric's bible, and he winces away from it instinctively.  He knows he can't take Rebekah down on his own, and even Magnus and Merle are going to have a time of it, if they can.  The power spilling out from this Relic is unbelievable. Even if they had Taako with them, Kravitz can't imagine even his wizard skills would be enough to tip the balance.

In spite of Rebekah having trapped them all here -- wherever here is -- her attacks thus far have been defensive ones.  She seems to prefer to protect herself rather than to attack.  If only she hadn't gotten the bright idea to try and revive her dead husband, she might not even have done anything that bad.

Protective. She's protecting herself and her husband.  She doesn't want to lose him again, at the cost of someone else's life.

If Kravitz can find a way to Reap the soul currently in Taako's body, then Taako's soul has a chance of finding his body back.  And if he can do that, Rebekah will not have anyone left to protect.  Perhaps then they can talk her down.  He doesn't want to Reap her soul for this.  He knows he's getting soft, but her story is tragic, and he is quite certain she wouldn't have gone down this road if it hadn't been for the Relic.  Lucas Miller got off with a stern warning, and there's no reason she couldn't either, potentially.

And so he makes his way toward the slowly rotating stone slabs in a tight orbit around Alfonso.  The stones are still too close together for him to simply attack, but Rebekah isn't bothered enough by the enormous spiritual guardian that Merle has conjured for him to try and disrupt the shield without her noticing.

That's when he hears another voice join in.

The orc has moved forward.  He has no weapons or armor on him, and his posture is open and non-threatening.  He isn't attacking his friend.

“Rebekah! Rebekah, can you hear me?” he calls.

The halfling is still floating in the air, her power lifting her a few feet from the ground.  The wave of power emanating from her keeps him from getting too close, but he reaches a hand up toward her anyway. She doesn't respond to him.

“Rebekah, please listen.  I know you're hurting.  I know you miss Alfonso. Believe me, so do I,” he says.  “I know it's not the same, but this...this isn't you, Rebekah.  You...you may have killed one of your clients.  You know Alfonso wouldn't want that.  You...you can ask him, right?”

There is a very long pause.

“...it doesn't matter,” Rebekah says, and her voice still isn't normal, but it's less of a horrifying eldritch nightmare this time.  “Nothing matters.  I can't live without him.  If you take him away from me again, you might as well kill me too, Salvatore.”

“No! Rebekah, no!” Alfonso shouts, his fists banging against the stone slabs protecting him.

This is Kravitz' cue.  His scythe is a soulbound, unbreakable weapon, spectral in nature but physical when the job called for that.  This is one of those times.  He takes the sharp edge of the weapon and wedges it between two of the rocks.  He turns the blade upwards, forcing the rocks apart.  Red energy peels off the blade and dissipates into the stone.

“Don't say that!”  This time Magnus has spoken up.  “Rebekah, I know it's tough, all right?  I lost my wife too, and every single day, I think about her and think about how much I want to be with her again. I even originally took this...this ridiculously dangerous job because I figured if I died doing it, then I'd be able to see her again.

“But...but I'm still alive, Rebekah.  And I have other people now.  I have Merle and I have...I had Taako.  And I have Ango and the Director and Carey and Killian and Avi and Johann and the Voidfish and...and so many people, Rebekah.  All of these people are so important to me, and I know I'm important to them.  If I died here, today, all those people would feel just the way I did when I lost Julia and Steven.”

“He's right, Rebekah,” Salvatore says.  “Please, don't make me lose you too.”

“That's...that's why I had to bring him back,” Rebekah protests, and Kravitz can hear the distortion of her voice seeping up again.  Time to work faster.

Kravitz uses a well placed eldritch blast to force one of the rocks to the side, forcing the crack to be wider.  From inside the shield, the man who isn't Taako looks at him.  His face, a mask of desperation and fear, fades into resignation.

“You're here for my soul, aren't you?” he says.  “Please, I have no qualms about going back.  But I ask that you have mercy on Rebekah. That eyepiece...it's controlling her.  She wouldn't have done this.”

“Oh, I'm quite aware of that,” Kravitz says.  “But if we can't get that thing off her soon, I'm not exactly going to have a choice, you know.”

“Let me talk to her.  Please, just...if I can just tell her I'm okay in the Astral Sea, then she'll listen.  She has to listen,” he begs.

Kravitz wedges the stones a little further apart.  They're nearly far enough for Alfonso to slide through now.

“Every extra minute you spend inside that body increases the risk that the person that body belongs to won't be able to return to it,” Kravitz says warningly.  He knows that their only chance of getting out of this is getting the Oculus off of Rebekah, and he knows that it's possible Alfonso will be able to help.  “I'll let you try, but if you try any funny business, you'll both be off to the Eternal Stockade.”

“I understand,” Alfonso says.

One more well placed shove, and the stones slide apart.  Alfonso ducks underneath Kravitz' arm and slides on through to freedom.  Kravitz lets go of the rocks, letting them come together again, and then he uses a prestidigitation spell to make it sound like Alfonso is still trapped within the circle of stone.

This will at least buy them some time.

Magnus was having some trouble.  It felt weird to be doing this without Taako at his side, and he could tell Merle was feeling it too.  He is still angry at Rebekah for whatever she has done to Taako, but his attacks and his accusations aren't going to help anything.  They need to sympathize with her, to talk her down, to figure out a way to get the damn Oculus off of her.

He doesn't want another situation like with Sloane and Hurley.

And he feels bad for her!  In a way he didn't before, even with Sloane. He feels bad for her because he sees his own pain in her, and he feels bad for her because he's afraid he could have gone down that route just as easily as Rebekah had.  Would he have hurt a stranger to get Julia back?  He wants to say no, that he would never do that, but...would he?

The answer now is no, clearly, because he understands the damage that that will do.  And besides, if he brought Julia back at the expense of another life, she would never forgive him.  There wouldn't be a point for himself, because he wouldn't be the man she had loved any longer.

And so he's conflicted -- desperately angry about Taako, but stupidly sympathetic because of Julia.

Fighting her isn't the answer.  It hadn't been the answer with Gundren or Sloane either, and, while there had been too much going on in the Miller Lab for them to ever actually fight Maureen, that had probably not been the answer either.

Salvatore's words are falling on deaf ears, though, and Magnus is beginning to realize he doesn't know how to get through to her.  It's possible. It has to be.  They had very nearly talked down Gundren, and Sloane...whatever had happened to her and Hurley has been her own doing.  But he doesn't have any idea of what to say.

The blindness spell had been easy for Merle to remove, and now that he can see again, he feels the need to do something.  To help somehow.

Can he get close enough to her to get the Oculus off with physical force? That hadn't worked with Sloane either, but it's worth a shot.

“Hey, buddy, you got anything that might help buff up my AC a few points?” Magnus asks Merle quietly while Salvatore pleads.

“Um, yeah?  I think so,” Merle says.  “Let me just...yeah, here we go.”  He points his finger at Magnus like a fantasy gun and makes a little 'pew' sound as he pretends to pull the trigger.  “Shield of faith.”

Magnus glows a little bit, and he feels a little warm as the magic washes over him.  He nods to Merle in thanks and then hoists Rail Splitter one handed.  He slides his shield on his back again.  He shuffles sideways out of Rebekah's direct line of sight while Salvatore distracts her.  This gives him a disadvantage as well, however, since the Oculus is on her face, but he'll take it.

Then, as quietly as possible, he tries to creep up behind her.

It almost works.  Creeping isn't really his greatest skill, but he's only about ten feet away from her when Salvatore makes the mistake of looking at him.  Then Rebekah turns quickly.  The light that seems to be pulsating out of her grows brighter for a moment, and she hisses at him.

He lunges.

Rebekah lifts up a hand and vanishes into thin air.  In her place, a second later, is a dire lion with the same glowing blank white eyes.  Magnus can't stop his forward momentum now, so he grasps Rail Splitter in both hands and swings, even as the lion roars at him.

The sound is utterly deafening, and it actually blows Magnus back a bit. The trajectory of his slash is altered now, and it wasn't great to start with.  His blow misses, and he stumbles a little as he goes past, trying to stay on his feet.

The lion turns and attacks, racking one mighty claw in a downwards swipe from Magnus' shoulder across his chest.  His armor blocks most of the damage, but the blow cuts into his arm badly.

He has no idea where Rebekah is right now, but this, at least, is something tangible he can fight.  Merle's spell to bolster his defenses is still singing through him, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Merle thundering forward with his war hammer.

The battle rages on.  The lion is almost too much for the two of them without back up from Taako's well timed and cleverly chosen ranged attacks.  But they get back up from an unexpected source.  The lion knocks Magnus prone with a pounce attack, and Magnus thinks he is going to have to fight from his back, when suddenly, Kravitz' scythe slides through the lion's body.  It howls in pain, and then it crumbles to ash where it stands.

Merle helps Magnus up, and Magnus rubs the back of his head.  “Can you just rip the soul out of anything with that scythe?” he asks Kravitz.

Kravitz looks at the ash, at the scythe, and then at Magnus.  “Nah.  You boys whittled it down pretty nice for me,” he explained.  “I could do it to you, though.  That thing didn't actually have a soul.”

“Why, because it was conjured with the Oculus?” Magnus asks.

“No, because it was a fucking lion,” Kravitz explains.

“Animals have souls!” Magnus protests.

“So do plants,” Merle says.

“Listen, boys, I know you're real well versed on the matter of souls and life and death and all that, like, far more learned than me, an actual servant of the Goddess of Death,” Kravitz says dryly, “but we have some more important matters at hand.  Like the halfling, and also Taako?”

“Yeah! Yeah.”

“The guy using Taako's body appears to be on our side,” Kravitz continues.  “Last I heard, he's going to try to join the orc in trying to talk her down.  But really, anything could happen on that front.  One of us should also be searching for a container for Taako's soul.  If I'm not mistaken about the method she used to disconnect his body and soul, then there will be some sort of receptacle around here.”

“What, like he's stuck in a tupperware or something?” Merle asks.

“I mean -- I guess it could be a tupperware.  It's usually a jar or a gemstone or a reliquary or something.  Probably hard to find. Might not even exist...wherever we are.  But hey, herding in lost souls is sort of what I do, so I'll look for him.  You two should try to get that damn eyepiece off of her.”

“Hey, yeah, where are we, anyway?” Merle asks.

“Did we get transported to some other plane or something?” Magnus wonders.

“No. We're still in the Prime Material Plane,” Kravitz says.  “In fact, as far as I can tell, we haven't actually moved at all.  Can I go save your friend's life now?”

“Oh! Yeah.  Yeah, you should do that,” Magnus says.

“Keep the halfling busy while I look!”

Magnus nodded.  He could do that, as soon as he could find her.

The room has seemed to expand when the walls and the ceiling blew out, but the floor they had been standing on when it had happened isn't any bigger than it was while it was a part of Rebekah's basement. The sparse furniture is still generally where it had started, although that lion had done quite a number to the burned pedestal that had been containing the book.

Rebekah's spell hadn't taken her far.  She is standing near the bookshelf at the edge of the room, inspecting the circle of rotating stone she had put around Alfonso earlier.  Alfonso's body double is keeping as much distance between himself and Rebekah as possible while still keeping a safe distance from the edge.  Salvatore is as near as he dares to get to Rebekah, although he seems to have given up on talking her down.

And Taako's body is standing behind her, his expression a mixture of sorrow, terror, and grim determination.

Magnus rushes forward, catching her attention, and he can tell she's preparing some other attack or defensive maneuver.  But, before she can attack, Alfonso makes his move.

“Rebekah. Wait,” he says.

She stops, the glow of her hand fading a little, although she's still staring at Magnus.  Magnus skids to a halt fast enough that Merle runs into him.

“Rebekah...please, listen,” Alfonso goes on.  “I think it's time, don't you?  You've made another body for me, right?  So I can lose this one.  I was...I was really confused at first, but I get it now.  I understand why you did what you did, and...thanks.  Feels good to have a body again.”

“What?” Magnus says, surprised.  The sentiment is echoed by Salvatore a few yards away.

“And to be without you...sweetheart, it was torture,” Alfonso goes on. “I was...so alone there.  You did the right thing to bring me back. Thank you.”

“My love...”

Rebekah has turned her attention completely to Alfonso, and her voice has softened to its normal state.  The glow is still ever present, radiating off of her, but it's dimming.  The Oculus shines brightly still, but the cracks in her face and neck are dulling.

Magnus has no idea if this is some sort of ruse or not, or if he is supposed to be doing something here.  He could try and attack now, try to get his hands around the tiny monocle and get it off of her before it can do more damage.  But he's not sure if that's the right thing to do. (And, if he wants to be honest with himself, after seeing what it can do, he wants no part in touching it.  Ever.)

“It's time, I think,” Alfonso says.  He is close to her now, close enough to touch her.  He doesn't try.  “We'll get rid of these thugs together, and then you can put me into that beautiful body you made me, and we can be together again.”

“Hey, now just hold on a minute!” Magnus shouts, not able to stop himself.  “I thought -- Kravitz said you were going to help us!”

Alfonso rolls his eyes.  “And you fell for the same trick he did, then.”

“Hey, fuck you!”

“Wow, what a jerk,” Merle agrees.

Nearby, there's a crackle of power, and Magnus turns to see that Kravitz has been privy to this entire conversation as well.  He's floating in the air slightly, alive with little black arcs of power leaping from his cloak every so often.

“You were warned of the consequences,” he says lowly.

Apparently, they had all misjudged Alfonso Joiner's character.  Magnus scowls, reequipping his shield and adjusting his grip on Rail Splitter. Great.  How the fuck were they going to fight this asshole without damaging Taako's body?

That's when Rebekah reaches out and takes Alfonso's hand.  She smiles at him.  The light filling her body begins to intensify again, and he looks like it's taking everything in his power to keep from jerking his hand away from hers.  He manages a smile back, and he's beginning to glow now too.

“I love you,” he says, dropping to one knee so that he is closer to her size.  “I'll love you until the end of time.”

“I would wait a million years,” she replies.  “I'll get rid of them all, and then we can go put you in the right body.  Just wait.”

A number of things happen at once.

Kravitz prepares a spell and throws it at the two of them.

Magnus aims his ax at Rebekah and begins a charge.

Salvatore drops to his knees, his head bowed in sorrow.

Merle yells, “Fuck!”