#i miss all the double lifers

[dead-sp1der]

I might clean this up if I pass my exams and if I can get a heck yeah

[aquaquadrant]

from eden, part IX (act II)

Word count: 15,401 Warnings: Self-deprecating thoughts (not really, Jimmy’s just a listener and doesn’t know it), strong language, internalized racism, past abuse/experimentation, dehumanization, self-hatred, kissing, mature implications (fade to black), voluntary decapitation Summary: The Double Lifers have successfully thwarted the invasion by Hels Tek, but not unscathed. Now that Tango’s been outed as Bravo’s doppelgänger, the remaining threads are starting to unravel, and Jimmy suddenly finds himself fighting to save Tango from his own inner demons. Can their love survive the fallout?

A/N: This chapter had to get split into two parts bc Tumblr sucks, here's a link to the first half if u missed it. Hope y'all enjoy, please reblog/comment if you do!

Also please don’t think too hard abt the technical portal/redstone junk. I’m throwin a lotta random terms and conditions out there in the hopes of creating a feasible explanation for how portal travel works, and how Hels differs from other worlds in that regard. It’s possible there are contradictions or other things that I didn’t fully think through, but these details aren’t really important. Just try to suspend ur disbelief. - Aqua

~*~

from eden, part IX (act II) - no tired sighs, no rolling eyes, no irony

~*~

“Right then. Uh, thank you all for coming on short notice.”

Grian’s tentative welcome is met with a chorus of rather subdued greetings from the Double Lifers. Everyone is gathered in a loose semicircle around spawn, standing in their respective soulbound pairs and groups. Jimmy would’ve preferred to have this conversation sitting down, inside somewhere, but Tango had insisted on spawn.

Only now does Jimmy realize that the open nature of the forest clearing at spawn is less enclosed than a room filled with fourteen people would feel, and he understands.

Tango hadn’t been very talkative on the way over. But every time he said something, it was with that same forced ‘Everything’s fine!’ kind of attitude. It’s really starting to frustrate Jimmy, making him want to grab Tango by the shoulders and shout, ‘No, actually, everything’s not fine, and that’s okay!’

But he doesn’t think that’d be well received at the moment.

Tango, standing beside Jimmy, is still maintaining his fake nonchalance. To an untrained observer, he’d actually look quite casual. Simply standing with his hands in his pockets, listening intently to Grian with a plain, but not unpleasant, expression. The only indication Jimmy has that he’s at all uncomfortable is the complete lack of movement.

He doesn’t fidget, doesn’t pace, doesn’t shift his weight- all things that might otherwise be taken as signs of anxiety, but are usually normal for Tango. The stillness, though subtle, is concerning. It means he’s tense and on-guard. As if expecting an attack at any second. Which, to be fair, Jimmy doesn’t blame him for. 

But more concerning is the fact that Tango can so easily and convincingly pretend that everything’s fine. He must’ve had a lot of practice.

(Ten years, remember?)

(Of course he’s a good liar.)

(Surprise, surprise.)

Grian clears his throat. “So, as we all know… there was an attack yesterday by some strange fellas who came in through a hacked portal of some sort. I’ve locked the world down for the moment, but until we know all the who’s, why’s, and how’s, I’m afraid that’s only a temporary solution… since I’m sure you all don’t wanna be stuck here forever.” 

He says it matter-of-factly, not a hint of any frustration, annoyance, or other ill-feeling in his voice. But Jimmy sees Tango’s face twitch anyway. Unsurprisingly, the guilt is getting to him.

“But that’s why we’re here,” Grian continues, taking a more upbeat tone. “Tango has kindly agreed to explain a little better what’s goin’ on, so hopefully, we can get to the bottom of this and uh… come up with a plan for moving forward.” He gestures invitingly towards Tango. “Tango?”

(Here we go…)

Tango clears his throat. “Right, yeah, thanks.” He takes a small step forward, casting a quick glance around the clearing. “Okay, so here’s the deal. I spawned in a world called Hels, where every player is sort of an evil counterpart to an overworld player elsewhere in the universe. At least, that’s what I’ve gathered from the Helsknight fiasco.”

Jimmy can actually see the sudden realization that settles over all the present Hermits- minus Pearl, who seems as out of the loop as the others.

Grian’s eyes widen. “Oh my gosh, that makes so much sense…”

“Oh, dudes,” Ren breathes, running a clawed hand through his hair. “Not gonna lie, I completely forgot about that…”

“Same here,” Impulse says, looking stunned. “I mean, it was over and done with so fast, and Wels didn’t seem worried, so I guess none of us really thought to look into it? Man…”

Scott puts a hand up. “Um, what’s tha’ Helsknight fiasco?” he asks, frowning.

“Oh, right.” Tango scratches the back of his head. “So, you guys know of Welsknight, right? One of our fellow hermits?” At the group’s hesitant nods, he continues, “On Hermitcraft’s seventh world, there was this player who randomly joined and attacked Wels. None of us ever saw him, but when Wels explained the situation later… he said Helsknight was some kinda evil clone, and that he came from a place called Hels.”

Murmurs of surprise and confusion ripple through the group. Jimmy longs to put a hand on Tango’s shoulder as a reassurance, but based on how tense he is, that’d probably set him off.

“Wait, really?” Pearl asks, her antennae curling in surprise. “What’re the chances of that?”

“I know,” Cleo agrees, “it was really strange, in hindsight…”

“So this Helsknight guy,” Joel says, knitting his brows together. “He’s what Bravo was talkin’ about, one of those Hels players? Like all the other people that came through the portal?”

“Yeah,” Martyn chimes in, “I- I noticed a lot of uh, ‘Hels’ in the names in chat. Or like, ones with ‘bad’ or ‘evil’ kinda vibes.”

“Yep.” Tango nods stiffly. “Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t know Helsknight or- or how he joined Hermitcraft, but it was obvious he was Wels’s counterpart. I mean, he said he was ‘all the darkest parts’ of Wels, right?” He folds his arms. “Well, I’m that for Bravo. A sort of uh- a personification of his badness, I guess.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Bigb cuts in, holding his hands up. “So- so you’re sayin’ that we all have these… Hels versions of ourselves?”

“Evil doppelgängers, yeah,” Tango amends. “I mean, I don’t know why it’d only be for some players and not others, and Hels is plenty big enough for every player in the universe to have a counterpart. You go to any of the major cities around spawn, and it’ll definitely feel that way.”

“What’s this… Hels world like?” Pearl asks, her red eyes wide with a sort of morbid fascination.

Tango’s expression darkens. “It’s an ancient world, infinite and deadly. The overworld and nether are fused into one crazy, messed-up realm full of these weird hybrid kinda biomes, and- and you can’t access the end. The bedrock ceiling makes it so hostile mobs spawn basically everywhere, but you can’t find naturally spawning passive mobs for like, hundreds of thousands of blocks around spawn, ‘cause the early players murdered them all. And no portal travel in or out- at least, that’s what we thought.”

Jimmy’s starting to see why Bravo described Hels as ‘an inescapable prison of horrific violence and suffering.’ 

Grian raises his eyebrows. “No end?”

“No portals?” Bdubs echoes disbelievingly.

Etho, who’s been listening with rapt attention, tilts his head. “That Bravo guy, he mentioned something about my, uh… my doppelgänger?”

Tango shrugs. “He must’ve met them at some point in the last ten years, yeah. I- I dunno, I never did.” He pauses, creasing his brows as he glances around the circle again. “Actually, I don’t think I ever met any of your guys’s Hels. Or, if I did, I don’t remember.”

That makes Jimmy frown. “What do you mean?”

Tango gives Jimmy a sidelong look. “I uh, I wasn’t really that social for most of my time there, I spent my childhood being a general menace- most kids do, actually. There’s no infrastructure to look after kids, we- they’re basically on their own. So you can imagine it’s- it’s an interesting world to grow up in.” Idly, he kicks at a clump of grass. “Bunch’a little monsters runnin’ around unsupervised, causing chaos, trying not to get brutally killed by hostile mobs and players, it was great.”

Horror seizes Jimmy. “That’s awful.”

“That’s just how it was,” Tango says bluntly. “I mean, try setting something like that up without an admin, right? See how that goes.”

“Wait, Hels doesn’t have an admin?” Grian repeats.

“Nope. At least, not when I was there.” Tango shrugs. “They hadn’t for a long time before I even spawned, so- so the whole place was basically anarchy, every player for themself.”

Aghast, Scar shakes his head. “What in the world…”

“How long did you spend living like that?” Impulse asks softly, his eyes sad.

Tango’s avoiding everyone’s eyes now, staring off somewhere into the middle distance. “Oh, probably ‘til I was like… fifteen or sixteen? Somewhere in the teen stage? That’s when I met Atlas.” A bitter smile splits across his face. “He told me he was recruiting for his redstone company, Hels Tek, and- and of course he threw in lots of cheap flattery, blah blah blah, and in my young, naive stupidity, I fell hook, line, and sinker. Turns out all he wanted me for was a blaze farm.”

There’s a brief silence.

“What?” Jimmy asks, confused. Is that what Atlas had meant about a farm design? Did they just want to force Tango to make farms for them? He knows Tango’s a bit of an innovator in that regard, but that’s an awful lot of trouble to go through for something that could easily be done by someone else.

“He… wanted you to build a blaze farm?” Impulse asks slowly, brows knitting together.

Tango laughs; a sharp, dry exhale. “No, no. Not to build one. To be one.” He reaches a hand up to tap one of the blaze rods hovering around his head. “I uh, I dunno if you guys have noticed, but these things here aren’t just for show. They’re real, functional blaze rods, and they just so happen to be respawnable.”

Jimmy’s stomach drops.

Oh.

(There we go, now they’ve got it.)

(Makes sense, right?)

(Honestly, it’s so obvious…)

The clearing is deathly silent now. All Jimmy can hear is his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. Everything is clicking into place, all the strange things he’s seen and heard suddenly making perfect, horrible sense.

They used Tango as a blaze farm. An actual sentient player, reduced to nothing more than a simple mob. A player with complex thoughts and feelings, with creative ideas and passions, with hopes and fears and dreams. They locked him up like an animal to use for profit- and even now, ten years later, he still can’t fully escape from it.

Jimmy has a sinking feeling he knows what Tango’s nightmares are about.

Tango keeps talking. “They didn’t start with that, of course.” There’s a bored sort of quality to his voice, like he’s merely commentating on the weather. “There was this uhh awkward phase where I thought I was helping with redstone experiments, when actually I was the test subject.”

It’s kind of surreal, actually. To be standing here and talking about this so casually. It’s like Jimmy’s having a nightmare he can’t wake up from.

“And once I caught on, well, they uh- they didn’t exactly have to play nice anymore,” Tango laughs. “That’s where I got these fabulous accessories.” He waves a hand, cuff jangling around his wrist.

Jimmy feels sick. They put the cuffs on Tango to lock him in a farm. To think he’s still had those on him, all this time-

“After that,” Tango continues briskly, “it still took, like, another year of testing for them to develop the most optimized farm.” He delivers the information almost disinterestedly, studying his claws. “It was a pretty smart design, nice and compact.”

Jimmy glances around the clearing. Amidst the shocked, horrified faces, he finds Impulse- who seems to be focused on taking slow, deep breaths, his hands curled into fists at his sides.

(Uh oh, no Impulse to the rescue…)

“Wither roses dealt constant damage,” Tango rattles off, “triggering my blaze rods to respawn as quickly as they could be skadoodled away by hoppers, and they had regen on an automatic clock to keep me alive- though there was a backup respawn anchor for any accidents.”

Wither roses. Of course. Jimmy can picture it, in his mind’s eye; Tango chained up among the ashen flowers. What must it have felt like, to be withering all the time? His health constantly wavering between the icy blackness and the regeneration, every minute of every day. How absolutely miserable.

Jimmy somehow finds his voice again. “How… how long did you spend like that?” he asks hoarsely, stepping next to Tango.

Tango won’t look at him- though he’s carefully watching out of the corner of his eye. “Oh, I dunno… four or five months, maybe?” 

Months. Jimmy’s heart aches. He can’t even begin to imagine what that existence was like. To spend all day trapped in a farm that’s constantly hurting him- and by wither effect, no less. Not to mention how dehumanizing the entire concept is on its own.

“How’d you get out?” Jimmy asks tentatively. “If- if you don’t mind.”

Tango snorts. “Yeah, so, one day, the charge on my anchor ran out when no one was around, so I was able to kill myself to get back to world spawn. And that’s when the portal to Hermitcraft appeared.”

Etho steps forward. “I thought Hels didn’t allow portals?” he asks, his voice as cool and unreadable as his partially-concealed expression.

Jimmy’s taken aback, his feathers puffing up unwittingly. He doesn’t understand how Etho can grill Tango about technical details in such an upsetting situation. In fact, he’d almost think that Etho doesn’t care at all- except the question makes Tango pause. In his expression, Jimmy can see his mind working, and realizes what Etho has done.

By circling back to a scientific topic, he’s provided Tango a distraction. Something less personal for his mind to focus on, and take everyone else’s focus off of him. Already, Jimmy can see that Tango’s less tense as he starts to explain.

“We didn’t have portals in Hels, but we knew the concept from data-mining.” Tango spreads his hands. “Locked comm commands, hidden recipes. But portals to Hermitcraft are made by the universe, right? So- so whatever is preventing Hels players from making portals, it- the universe can circumvent it. ‘Course, at the time, I didn’t know how it appeared or where it was gonna take me, but I went through. And apparently, somehow, a portal appeared in front of Bravo that took him to Hels at the same time. The universe must’ve tried to send Bravo to Hermitcraft, glitched ‘cause of Hels’s wonky portal technology, and swapped us by mistake.”

Etho hums noncommittally. “So it was an accident.”

(Oh, sure.)

(That’s what they think…)

(Yeah, he ‘accidentally’ didn’t tell anyone the truth for ten years.)

Jimmy angrily pushes the thoughts away. So long as Tango didn’t intend to strand Bravo in Hels, that’s all that matters to him.

Tango gives Etho a funny look. “I mean, that’s not the point? Bravo’s been trapped in Hels ever since, ‘cause of me. This whole invasion thing was my fault, they were tryin’ to get me back for the farm and help Bravo escape Hels, and... I dunno, get back to his life? Or, the life I stole from him ten years ago.” He shrugs. “So yeah. Secret’s out, sorry I’ve been lying to some of you for a decade, now, and- and sorry you all got dragged into my mess. I didn’t mean t- well, anyway, that’s- that’s what happened.”

“God, Tango,” Jimmy breathes, reaching a hand out, “I- I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry?” Tango asks incredulously, jerking away from Jimmy. “Wh- for what? That’s just what Hels is like, okay, if it wasn’t the farm it’d have been some other terrible thing, so y’know, it’s- it’s whatever.” He lets out another harsh laugh, raking his claws through his hair. “If anything, I’m the one who should be sorry, I mean, I- I’ve been lyin’ for ten years and-”

“They put you in a farm?!”

Everyone jumps. Impulse’s voice is suddenly several octaves lower, quite a bit louder, and warped with distortion into something truly demonic. His pupils have eaten up the rest of his eyes, turning them solid black. The teeth bared in a scowl look bigger and sharper than they used to, and the hands at his sides have sprouted claws. His horns and tail have grown longer, too, and Jimmy can see what looks like dark, leathery wings sprouting up behind him. His entire body is outlined by a bright golden glow, like his skin has abruptly become as hot as lava, and the absolute fury in his expression burns even fiercer.

Ah. This must be ‘full demon’ mode.

Bdubs quickly jumps in front of Impulse, grabbing him by the shoulders to ground him. Jimmy instinctively steps in front of Tango, wings snapping out to shield him from view.

But the damage is already done. Jimmy hears footsteps, and by the time he looks over his shoulder, Tango is gone.

“Tango, wait!” Jimmy turns to follow him, but a hand suddenly grabs his arm.

Martyn is there. “Don’t chase him,” he says lowly, “he’ll only panic more.”

Jimmy wants to argue, but the severity in Martyn’s solitary eye sobers him. “Alright,” he relents, folding his wings. “I… guess I’ll give him a few minutes to calm down…”

“Right, then.” Martyn gives a short nod, putting his hands on his hips. “Wasn’t expecting that.”

“Tell me about it,” Jimmy mutters, gazing back over the clearing.

Impulse is starting to settle back down, Bdubs in front speaking to him in low tones while Etho and Joel each hang onto an arm. It looks like his extra demon-y features are reverting back to his usual state, though he still looks furious.

Grian is sitting against a tree, wings splayed out around him. He’s massaging his temples like he’s warding off a headache, his eyes squeezed shut, groaning, “How did I not see this coming?” while Scar, crouched beside him, rubs his back soothingly.

Ren is pacing back and forth across the clearing. “I should’a killed more of those guys,” he growls, tail lashing, ears pinned flat against his skull.

“Hey, you did all you could,” Bigb says comfortingly. “I was the one that got us killed. If I’d kept my shield up, he wouldn’t have gotten that shot on me.”

“I wish we’d realized that Atlas guy was in charge,” Martyn laments, crossing over to them. “If we’d stopped him from leaving, we could’a gotten a lot more information.”

“I wish we’d known Tango was dealing with all this,” Cleo says bitterly, her crossed arms resting on her knees, Scott leaned against their side. “I mean, honestly… ten years and we never knew? That’s- that’s- that’s rubbish. We’re rubbish friends.”

“Hey, hey now,” Jimmy says, lifting his voice to address the group, “this wasn’t anyone’s fault, okay? You guys have been great friends to Tango- otherwise, he wouldn’t have stuck around for so long, right? It’s- it’s just his way, to try and deal with things on his own without askin’ for help. You know that.”

Cleo exhales slowly. “Yeah, I know. Still sucks.”

“Yeah.” Jimmy glances over at Impulse, who seems to have recovered himself back to normal, sitting cross-legged next to Bdubs. “You alright, Impulse?”

Impulse gives a slight nod, expression guilty. “I’m sorry. I- I almost never lose control like that, I just got so angry… not at Tango!” he quickly clarifies. “Never at him. I- I just… thinking about what they did to him, everything he went through…”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Bdubs murmurs, squeezing Impulse’s hand. “That’s- it’s freaking crazy, right? With th- hyaugh, evil Hels world, puttin’ people in uh, in farms… sheesh.”

“Yeah, it’s alright,” Jimmy assures him. “I know you didn’t mean anythin’ by it. I’m sure Tango does, too, he was just so on-guard the whole time… he just got spooked, that’s all.”

“Jimmy,” Pearl says urgently, fluttering over to him while tailed by her small pack of wolves, “d’you know- uh, is- is everythin’ Tango said true?” she asks, concerned.

Jimmy swallows. “It’s true. I mean, I- I didn’t know about the farm specifically, but based on what I overheard Atlas say- it makes sense.” He rubs the back of his neck. “And gosh, I didn’t know how awful Hels was, but the way Bravo talked about it…”

“But, um…” Bdubs pipes up hesitantly. “Just- just ‘cause Tango is Bravo’s… uh, Hels… doppelgänger, whatever… doesn’t mean he’s evil, right?”

“I know!” Jimmy cries, throwing his hands up. “That’s what I’ve been tryin’ to tell him! He doesn’t believe it. He thinks he’s a monster for what he did, killin’ those guys and burnin’ down the ranch.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Martyn scoffs. He’s coaxed a still-seething Ren to lay down now, absentmindedly stroking Ren’s ears as his head rests in Martyn’s lap while Bigb starts to braid his hair. “It was self-defense, yeah? A bunch of strangers invaded your home, and he defended it. There’s nothin’ wrong with that.”

Jimmy has a feeling it’s more to do with how Tango killed them and how the fire got started, plus the fact that Jimmy got hurt in the process. But Tango didn’t share those particular details, so Jimmy’s not about to now. Besides, in his opinion, that doesn’t change anything.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he says ruefully. “But he still blames himself for what happened. For all of it.”

“Well, that’s stupid,” Cleo deadpans. Then she pauses. “Or- sorry, his feelings aren’t stupid, but I- I hope he knows that none of us feel that way.”

There are exclamations of agreement and similar sentiments from the rest of the group, which helps ease some of the tightness in Jimmy’s chest. He knows his friends, and knows they’re all good people who wouldn’t judge Tango like that, but it’s been hard not to let Bravo’s words get to him.

“I’ll tell him,” Jimmy promises them. “I’ll try to make him understand, he just- I think he’s always been afraid this day would come, that he’s just been tickin’ down borrowed time.”

“What d’you mean?” Grian asks, rising to his feet. “It’s not like he knew they were coming, right?”

Jimmy shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so. It’s more like… he’s always had that possibility hanging over him.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” Impulse says quietly. “The first time he saw a communicator portal open, you would’ve thought he was being sent to his death. It… makes sense, looking back now.” He puts his head in his hands, sighing. “Man, there were so many signs…”

Grian walks over, pulling his communicator out. “So hang on, the world itself is called Hels, yeah?”

“Yeah, why?” Jimmy asks.

Grian doesn’t respond, silently scanning his comm with his brows knit in concentration. And then something very strange happens. For a moment, it almost seems as if Grian’s eyes flash purple, and Jimmy hears his voice in his head.

(There it is. Hm, firewalled. Gonna be tricky.)

Then Grian pushes his glasses back up, and it passes.

“Right,” he says briskly, putting his comm away. “I can’t find the world, so the portal thing checks out. But since Tango’s cut this meeting a bit short, do you have any other information? Anything the Hels guys might’ve said or done that we should know about?”

Jimmy blinks. Grian’s just looking at him expectantly, giving no indication that there’s anything out of sorts. Jeeze, he’s used to having random thoughts, but the stress of everything must really be getting to him if he’s imagining his friend’s voices, now.

“Um, actually,” Jimmy says, “the collar they put on Tango… he said it’s using some sort of… modified wither rose to dampen his fire? It’s uh, also dampening our soulbond.” He clears his throat, glancing away. “As a- as a fun little side effect.”

“Have you tried removing it yet?” Etho asks, stepping around Impulse with his hands in his pockets.

“I did, earlier,” Impulse chimes in from the ground. “Just with my hands, but uh, he acted like it was hurting him.”

Jimmy nods. “Yeah, Atlas locked it on him with a key, and I’m pretty sure he still had it when he left. So I think that might be the way to get it off.”

“Well,” Joel cuts in, straightening up from where he’d been leaning over Impulse’s shoulder, “surely not the only way, right? I mean, you could always…” He makes a noncommittal noise, and draws a finger across his neck.

Jimmy bristles, wings flaring out. “What, decapitate my soulmate?!”

Joel holds up his hands. “Hey, hey, we don’t know if that thing’ll respawn on him!”

“His cuffs do!” Jimmy points out.

“Yeah, but isn’t it worth a shot?” Joel counters.

“I… I guess,” Jimmy relents, letting his feathers smooth back down. “But I’d rather look into a few other options before jumpin’ straight to decapitation, if you don’t mind. Tango’s been through enough as it is.”

Joel backs off. “Alright, fair enough.” 

“Okay…” Grian turns to address the rest of the group. “Well, um… this has been an interesting revelation, to say the least. I think we’re gonna have to do a bit more research to figure out how they got here before we just… open the world back up. So that means we’ll all be stuck here a bit longer, is that- is that okay with everyone?”

“Yes, yes of course,” Bdubs says vehemently.

“Yeah,” Impulse agrees, “whatever it takes.”

Further murmurs of assent ring out from among the group. Everywhere Jimmy looks, he sees faces full of sympathy and understanding, not a single trace of resentment or annoyance to be found. God, he loves his friends.

“Thanks, guys, I appreciate it,” he says gratefully. “I’m gonna go check on Tango, but we’ll keep you updated if anythin’ changes.”

“Right, okay then.” Grian claps his hands together. “Uh- I guess that’s all for now?”

Nodding, Jimmy turns and takes to the sky, leaving spawn behind him.

His mind is still reeling from all the heavy revelations, his stomach twisted up into knots, but he’s at least comforted by knowing that his friends are behind them. Seems that the fears Bravo tried to instill were completely unfounded, nothing more than vicious, desperate attempts to sow division between Tango and the others. Jimmy really shouldn’t have doubted them.

(That went… surprisingly well.)

(Give it time.)

‘Oh, shove off,’ Jimmy thinks.

~*~

He finds Tango back at the spare room in Impulse and Bdubs’s house.

Thank goodness for that. He hadn’t exactly been sure if Tango would consider this a safe place to go. But with the ranch destroyed and the world on lockdown, it’s not like he has a lot of options.

Tango’s sitting on the bed with his back to Jimmy. At a glance, he seems relaxed, but his legs are curled under him in a way that’d allow him to spring up in an instant. And the way his pointed ears swivel back toward Jimmy tells him Tango is quite alert.

(So deceiving…)

“Hey, Tango,” Jimmy says softly. “You alright?”

“Oh, hey.” Tango doesn’t turn around just yet, shrugging a shoulder. “Sure, yeah.”

Jimmy lingers by the bed for a moment, uncertain. “Um, Impulse didn’t mean to lose his temper like that,” he offers. “He wasn’t mad at you, he was mad at the situation, that’s all.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Just, in the moment- I- I- thought…” Tango sighs. “Anyway. So- so I guess I should head out, huh?”

Jimmy’s stomach drops. “What? What’re you sayin’?”

“It’s over, right?” Tango asks, his voice tight, shoulders hunched by his ears. “They don’t want me around, and I don’t blame ‘em. I mean, once Grian opens the world again, it’s only a matter of time before another portal from Hels opens up. And- and who’d want to go through all that again, right? So don’t worry, I get it, it was my fault, so-”

“No, Tango, I promise- none of them blame you, alright?” Jimmy sits down on the bed- not too close. “None of them believe what Bravo was sayin’ about you. None of them think you’re some… some evil monster that deserves to be locked up in Hels.”

Tango finally turns around. His body is coiled with all the tension of a drawn arrow. “That’s ‘cause they didn’t see me- what I did- back at the ranch,” he says sharply. “They don’t know the whole story.”

Jimmy rubs the back of his neck, exhaling slowly. He knew Tango would hold that against himself. “Well, I do, and I-”

“No, you don’t.”

Jimmy blinks. “Wh- oh, you mean the Helsknight thing?” he asks, furrowing his brows. “Look, honestly, based on what you told Bravo, I don’t blame you for doing that. You were just scared you’d get sent back, that doesn’t make you evil. I know you-”

“No, you don’t,” Tango says again, more intently. “You don’t know everything about me, Jimmy.”

Jimmy’s stomach drops. “Wha’d’you mean?”

Tango smiles without humor, a hard look in his eye. “You wanna know why I like making those- those crazy mob farms? Why I try to kill them in creative, fun ways?” He tilts his head. “Because I like it. I like to make their deaths entertaining. I’ll even sacrifice efficiency for it, I’ll go out of my way to do it. And I- it doesn’t stop there, I’ll kill passive mobs for no reason. Cats, frogs, things that don’t even have drops, for absolutely no reason. That’s not normal.”

Despite himself, Jimmy feels a chill run down his spine. “That’s not… those are just mobs, it’s- it’s not evil…”

(Are you sure about that?)

Tango exhales sharply- a short, bitter laugh. “Okay. You know why practically all my mini games end in death? Huh? You wanna guess?”

Distress shoots through Jimmy. “Tango-”

“I like to watch players die, too,” Tango says. “And I like it to be entertaining. I enjoy it, that’s- that’s just plain sadistic.” He rakes his claws through his hair. “That’s what I am, I’m a- a sadistic monster, okay, I always have been.”

“Stop it, don’t say that!” Jimmy protests, his heart twisting. “You’re not- people actually sign up for those games, you know. And it’s not like death is permanent, it doesn’t matter-”

“So?” Tango interrupts harshly. He jumps off the bed and starts pacing. “What- does that make any difference? Doesn’t matter if people enjoy them, okay, my- my reason for making them is wrong. Designing games is fun, sure, but I- that’s never what it’s been about. I like to make players struggle, and suffer, and die in the end. I like to watch them experience pain and fear in a trap of my own creation. I like the feeling of control it gives me. No matter how you look at it, that’s- I- I’m messed up.”

Jimmy can’t take this anymore. He rises to his feet. “Tango, stop, that’s enough,” he says, his voice stern. “I know I haven’t known you very long, but-”

“Yeah,” Tango snaps, rounding on Jimmy, “you haven’t! That’s the whole problem! I’ve kept a huge chunk of my life secret from you, my own soulmate. I’ve kept it from the Hermits, too- my friends of nearly a decade. I’ve deceived and lied to everyone I ever cared about. I’ve pretended to be this- this benevolent game maker who just wants everyone to have a good time, I’ve kept so much of who I really am hidden ‘cause I knew that if you guys ever saw the real me, you’d hate me.”

Jimmy’s mind is reeling. Tango’s clever eye for game design is something Jimmy’s always loved about him, the way he could create fun challenges even amidst the throes of a death game. After all, the first time they really interacted was when Jimmy died to his ‘Dare to Flare’ challenge back on the Third Life world. And that had been a laughably simple game compared to some of the things he’s done on Hermitcraft.

Even though it ended up costing Jimmy a life, the rush of adrenaline had been thrilling. And even though in hindsight, he knew it was a deliberate ploy by Tango to thin out his competitor’s lives, Jimmy’s never resented him for it.

So to suddenly realize there might’ve been more to it… that Tango might’ve actually enjoyed watching him burn to death- beyond the simple satisfaction of having outsmarted his competition, of course- is… unsettling, to say the least.

(What a start to a relationship!)

(The red flags have been there from day one.)

(A sadist and a liar, lucky you.)

But nevertheless, Jimmy holds his ground. “I don’t hate you.”

Tango tenses. “You should.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Jimmy insists. “I love you, Tango.”

“No, you don’t!” Tango snarls, and the hurt in his voice is raw and ragged and bleeding. His eyes are burning with rage, and Jimmy’s almost certain that if it weren’t for the collar, he’d be on fire right now. “Alright? Just shut up! You love this- this version of me that I’ve presented, okay, this lie I’ve been living. You love Tango the friendly redstoner, who makes ridiculous high-pitched noises when he’s flustered and who’s funny when he’s mad and who can’t fight his way out of a one-block hole. You don’t love the sadistic blaze hybrid that sets things on fire and- and rips people’s throats out with his fucking teeth, don’t be stupid!”

The silence that follows is deafening.

(And there it is!)

(Finally showing his true colors.)

(He did try to tell you…)

For a moment, Jimmy is too stunned to speak. Tango’s never yelled at him before, not seriously, and the sting of his words is almost a physical thing.

Tango seems just as shocked at his outburst as Jimmy is, his face paling as his anger quickly extinguishes. The next words out of Tango’s mouth are almost guaranteed to be an apology, but Jimmy isn’t letting him off that easily.

“Now hang on just a second,” Jimmy says lowly. “You don’t get to tell me how I feel about you. I’m a grown player. I’m not some poor, innocent idiot that you’ve manipulated into loving you, alright? And it hurts that you’d think so little of me, that I’d stand here and just lie about my feelings to you.”

(Ooh, someone finally grew a backbone-)

Jimmy silences the thought, violently forcing it out of his mind. He’s got no patience for that sort of thing right now.

“I’m sorry,” Tango whispers, “I didn’t-”

“And what’s more,” Jimmy continues, gaining steam, “do you really think I’m the type of person to judge someone so harshly for things outta their control? You honestly think I’m some- some shallow, heartless jerk who’d turn on you, just like that? Or- for that matter, you think the Hermits would? After ten years of friendship, you have that little faith in them?”

Tango’s eyes widen. “No, no it’s- it’s not like that,” he says quickly. “I didn’t mean-”

“I don’t care that you’re from Hels,” Jimmy presses, taking a step forward. “I don’t care what you did in the past, or that you kept it from me. I don’t care if some random guy thinks you’re just the manifestation of all his evil- frankly, I think that says more about him than it does about you.” He comes to a stop in front of Tango. “I love you. The teeth, the claws, the death fascination or- or whatever you wanna call it- I love all of it. All of you. And I wish more than anythin’ they hadn’t got that damn collar on you, so you could feel that love through our soulbond. But you’ve felt it before, right? Before I knew? Well um, it hasn’t changed, I promise you that.”

Tango stares back up at him. Now that the anger’s gone, he just looks scared. “You don’t-” His voice breaks. “You can’t.”

“Yes, I do,” Jimmy answers, unwavering. As difficult as this conversation has been, this part’s easy. “I promise, cross my heart.”

Tango shudders, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “Please,” he whispers, “don’t… I can’t- if I let myself think that but you don’t mean it, I- I can’t handle that. Please. Just tell me now, okay, get it over with…”

Understanding settles over Jimmy. Creasing his brows, he takes a slow, deliberate step forward. “I mean it,” he says, lifting a hand to cup Tango’s cheek.

Tango trembles, but he doesn’t move away. He swallows, licks his lips. “Say it again?” he asks, almost a plea, his eyes darting to take in every inch of Jimmy’s face- like he’s unsure whether he can truly believe what he’s seeing, almost searching for any hint, any trace of doubt in Jimmy’s expression.

There isn’t any. Jimmy leans in. “I love you.”

Something glimmers in Tango’s eyes; a warm light Jimmy hasn’t seen since before the ranch burned. 

Something like hope.

Love rises inside Jimmy like a wave- love and the sorrow of shared grief, the fierce determination to withstand it, and the agony of all the past suffering he can’t take away. It’s overwhelming and exhilarating, this sudden rush of emotion. A whirling maelstrom that makes his head spin. But his love burns brightly through it all, a sole lantern against the storm.

Maybe he can’t make Tango believe he’s worthy of love. But he can give it anyway.

Jimmy moves slowly, tilting his face down towards Tango’s. He keeps his eyes open until the very last second, giving Tango plenty of time to move away or say something to stop him, to give any sign at all that he isn’t feeling the same.

There isn’t any. Their lips meet gently, like a familiar greeting. Like the way sunlight falls through the window every morning.

And just like that, the dam breaks. Suddenly Tango’s kissing him back, fervently, pushing against him. Jimmy’s legs hit the bed and buckle, sending him backwards, Tango falling on top of him. His hands cling to Jimmy’s shirt, twisting in the fabric, and his tears wet Jimmy’s face, salt on his tongue. Above the pounding of his heart in his ears, he can just make out the words Tango’s murmuring between kisses, breathless and desperate.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I love you.”

Jimmy pulls him impossibly closer, whispering, “I never doubted.”

They don’t need words after that.

~*~

“Jeeze, they weren’t kidding,” Tango mutters, taking in the ranch with wide eyes.

The ranch looks even worse than Jimmy had been imagining. Nearly the entire first floor is gone, just a wide-open plot and their lonely front door sitting ajar. Aside from the odd block here and there, it’s just empty. A couple trapdoors from the furniture in the living room. The smooth stone slabs that made up their kitchen countertops. An occasional unbroken glass pane floating where there used to be windows.

It’s not a home anymore, not by any stretch of the imagination.

Up the intact cobblestone staircase, the second floor has only fared slightly better. Some of the walls are still standing, charred and moth-eaten as they are. He thinks most of the bathroom’s interior was spared, as it was primarily made of different stone materials. Polished andesite and the like. The chests in their storage room made it, of course, even though the room itself didn’t. And their bedroom seems to have gotten the worst of it. From down here, he thinks it might just be the bed itself that’s left.

The roof is gone, leaving their cobblestone chimney awkwardly sticking up from the ground to nowhere. The path up to the house and the surrounding fields have been torn up to make a ditch. Necessary as it was, it’s quite the eyesore. And to top it all off, one of the custom trees that Scar helped build has been hastily chopped down, due to its proximity to the nearby forest. There’s just a couple of logs and solitary leaves left floating in the air.

It hurts. Everywhere Jimmy looks, there’s another source of heartache. Another precious memory that’s been turned to ash. It’s almost enough to bring tears to his eyes.

But he’s also aware of Tango standing beside him. He knows how much Tango is already beating himself up for the fire, and the last thing he wants to do is add to that guilt.

Jimmy turns to give Tango a rueful grin. “Talk about your fixer-uppers, ey?”

Tango exhales slowly. “Man, it’s so…” He glances at Jimmy, expression pinched. “I’m sorry, you worked so hard-”

“It’s fine,” Jimmy says, shrugging. “It’s just a building.”

Tango hesitates. “It’s… alright to be upset. This was our home, and I- I got all ‘rahhhrr angry-burny rage mode’ on it and-”

“Not your fault,” Jimmy says, voice gentle but firm. He puts a hand on Tango’s shoulder. “If anyone’s to blame, it’s the Hels fellas for attackin’ us in the first place.”

Tango makes a noncommittal noise, scuffing the upturned dirt with his boot. “Sure.”

It’s clear he’s not convinced, but Jimmy leaves it there for now. Their conversation from yesterday is going to take some time to fully sink in. He crosses over to a haphazardly-placed double chest near the front of the ranch and crouches beside it, lifting the lid with a creak.

“Martyn said everything they were able to save is in this chest here, let’s see…” He rummages through the chest’s inventory. A lot of it is random junk; miscellaneous blocks, half-stacks of wheat, dropped weapons and armor from the fight. But there are a few good finds, like some of the clothes from their closet, a couple of flower pots, one of his framed embroidery pieces...

“Oh, hey, look at this!” Jimmy calls excitedly. “My gloves!”

He pulls the gloves out, looking up from the chest to see Tango standing over him. His eyes widen when he sees them- happily surprised at first, and then the familiar dawning of guilt and regret.

“You uh… maybe I should take those back, for now,” Tango says quietly, his ears lowered. “Or- or maybe just forever, yeah.”

“Ey, stop it, no take-backs,” Jimmy chastises him, slipping the gloves on. “Gloves couldn’t have prevented that fire, anyways. And I like wearin’ ‘em, because that way it’s sorta like I’m holdin’ your hand all the time.”

A grin tugs at Tango’s mouth. “Aw, that’s real cheesy, honey,” he teases, even as a faint blush colors his cheeks.

“Yeah, but I mean it,” Jimmy says loftily. “I’m keepin’ them.”

Tango holds his hands up, chuckling. “Alright, alright…” His gaze travels back towards the ranch, up towards the storage room with its rows of chests. “Guess we should still have plenty of materials to rebuild, huh?”

“Should do, yeah,” Jimmy says, straightening up. Having the gloves back is an immediate comfort, despite the fact he’d only gone two days without them. He foldings his arms, gaze sweeping critically over the remains of the ranch. “I guess for now, we’ll just focus on the structure? Y’know, get the place liveable again and worry ‘bout the decor and landscapin’ later…”

“Oh, that’s what you think!”

The loud voice makes them both jump. Jimmy whirls around to see Bdubs- of course, because there’s absolutely no mistaking that voice.

“Bdubs!” Jimmy laughs, clutching his heart. “What- what’re you doin’ here?”

Bdubs puts his hands on his hips. “I- I can’t believe what I’m- ‘no interior decor’, yeah right! You’re not gonna get outta that very- so easy! I tell you!”

Tango snickers. Luckily Bdubs’s sudden appearance hasn’t seemed to cause more than a brief startle. “Oh, yeah? You gonna help out, then, shorty?” 

“Hey!” Bdubs barks incredulously- though it’s clear from his expression he’s not really upset. “I’m tryin’ t- augh, n’you- you stu- yes. Yes, yes, I’m here to help, of course. For goodness sakes. I- how kind, are I! Sweet, kind Bdubs…”

“And handsome, too,” Jimmy adds cheekily.

That makes Bdubs beam, puffing his chest out. “Yeahhh, c’mon baby!”

“Don’t encourage him,” Tango groans.

“Oh, stop it!” Bdubs huffs. “Anyway, Impulse would’ve come, of course, but he and Etho- the redstone guys, you know, uh, they’re havin’ a- a- little chat, little brainy-thing… brainstormin’ ‘bout the portal stuff with Grian. But never thy fear! I saw you guys head out and, in my eternal wiseness, have already called in the forcements!”

Jimmy exchanges an amused look with Tango. “Well, any help is appreciated,” he amends.

“Sure about that, Timmy?” calls Joel’s voice, as the man himself appears over the hill.

And he’s not alone. Cleo’s taller figure looms over him, Scott and Pearl walking on either side of her as a small pack of wolves weave between their legs. The trio is followed by Martyn, Bigb, and Ren- the latter seeming to have recovered his friendly disposition and wagging tail. Finally, Scar emerges from behind a tree to round out the group, calling out a cheerful, “Hello there!”

Joel comes to a stop next to Bdubs and claps him on the shoulder. “We figured you two could use the help, what with you not bein’ builders and all.” Cheeky man.

Jimmy snorts. “Gee, thanks,” he says sarcastically. But slights at their building skills aside, he’s actually quite touched.

Tango blinks. “You guys… all came to help out?” he asks, sounding amazed. 

“Of course!” Bdubs declares. “We ha- we help!”

Cleo shrugs, giving a hapless grin. “You know, I- I- I really don’t know… why Bdubs invited me? I’m not that great a builder. But I can supervise, I guess? And- and heckle. Always heckle.”

“And reach tha’ tall bits,” Scott offers, lightly elbowing her hip.

“And reach the tall bits,” Cleo laughs. “Right. Yes.”

“It’s the least we can do,” Martyn chimes in, slinging an arm around Bigb’s shoulders, “since that portal stuff is way over my head.”

Bdubs pulls a face. “Uh…” He speaks to Jimmy and Tango behind his hand, despite making no effort to lower his voice at all- for comedic effect. “Normally, I would’ve offered my perfect redstone prowess to uh, to help the other guys out with their little portal thing, you know, but eugh- I knew someone would have ta’ keep all these jokers in line.”

“Ah, of course,” Tango replies sagely.

“Well?” Bdubs turns expectantly to the others, throwing his arms up. “Get movin’ then! Sheesh! Stand around, waitin’ for- for no raisin…”

“Yes, my liege,” Cleo drawls, rolling their eyes.

Ren claps his big paws together. “Yeah, we’re burnin’ daylight, my dudes!”

Pearl’s fuzzy wings unfurl from beneath her red cloak. “Let’s see what we’re workin’ with!” she says excitedly, fluttering up to the storage room.

Just like that, the other Double Lifers descend on the husk of the ranch. Placing down temporary chests and crafting benches, sorting through the remaining resources, filling in the ditch with dirt. Multiple conversations start up immediately as everyone sets to a task, and the atmosphere is comfortable- even if a bit strange.

Jimmy can’t recall a time when this many of them have worked on a project together. Not on Third Life, not on Last Life, not here. Something like this just wouldn’t be possible during a death game. Large gatherings between different groups are always fraught with tension and uncertainty, by the fear of a trap or a backstab or a fight breaking out.

But it’s nice. Pearl is hovering above the second floor, working with Cleo to build the walls back up while Scott prepares some stairs and slabs for detailing. Scar and Bdubs are already bickering about how to do the landscaping while Joel grumbles at them, waist-deep in the ditch with Bigb and Martyn placing dirt. Ren’s started tearing down the damaged trees, clearing room for replanting, and Pearl’s wolves mill about, filling the air with curious sniffs and yips.

Tango’s watching the scene unfold with wide eyes, and it suddenly occurs to Jimmy that this is the most people Tango’s been around since the difficult conversation at spawn. Impulse was checking on them throughout the rest of the day, of course, and a few of the other players stopped by now and again, but not in big groups or anything.

Jimmy steps closer to Tango. “Is this okay?” he asks softly.

Tango looks at him in surprise. A smile spreads across his face, and he takes Jimmy’s hand. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Yeah, it is.”

Jimmy smiles back. “Then let’s get in there.”

~*~

Jimmy lets out a low whistle. “Dang, this looks even better than before!” he says, craning his head to look around the room.

After a full day of building and the gradual dispersal of the other Double Lifers, Jimmy and Tango are now seeing their new bedroom for the first time. They were around for the bulk of the structure building, but once it came time for the interior, Bdubs and Scar had insisted it be a surprise. Everything about it is perfect, from the custom furniture to the quilted wool rug to the fancy frame Scar built around their double-wide bed.

Tango clears his throat. “Maybe, uh- maybe we can just…” He kicks one of the beds with the toe of his boot. “... scooch this over a little…”

“Nope,” Jimmy declares, sweeping Tango off the floor and onto the bed. “Nice try, mate, but you’re stayin’ right here next to me.”

“Okay, okay, fine! I ju- don’t say I didn’t warn you!” Tango huffs, but he’s grinning as he says it.

~*~

“Alright, fellas,” Grian says, clapping his hands together, “here’s what we’ve got so far…”

Jimmy leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Tango is a little tense beside him- probably just nerves. But it could be worse. They’re gathered in the living room of Impulse and Bdubs’s house; Grian perched on the arm of the sectional across from Jimmy and Tango, Impulse and Etho sitting adjacent to them. The familiar setting and fairly limited company seems to have helped put Tango more at ease for what might end up being a tricky conversation.

“We’re... pretty sure we know how the Hels peeps got here,” Grian continues, “but there are a few things we need to clarify, first.” He glances at Etho, inclining his head. “Etho, you wanna explain?”

“Oh yeah, yeah.” Etho stands up. “Tango, may I see your comm, please? I uh, just need to look at it for a minute.”

Tango blinks. Anxiety flashes across his face for just a brief second before disappearing. “Oh. Uh, sure?” He pulls the item from his inventory, holding it out.

Etho takes the communicator. “So,” he begins, sitting back down, “you said that in Hels, players can’t make portals with their communicators, right?”

Tango gives a short nod. “That’s right. That comm isn’t the one I spawned with, they took that from me at Hels Tek. X made me a new one, after I got to Hermitcraft.” He gives a dry laugh. “I told him- I told him I lost it. Which, I mean, that’s- it’s technically not a lie, just... not the whole truth.”

Jimmy gives him a sympathetic look. He might no longer be worried that the others will reject him, but this still can’t be easy to talk about.

Etho studies the communicator, his mismatched eyes narrowed in concentration. “So after you got a new comm, you were able to use it to make portals?”

“Yeah,” Tango says, “it uh, it’s taken me to each Hermitcraft world and everything in between, no problem. Hubs, solo worlds, creative- you name it.”

Etho hums. “Can you use your comm to travel to Hels?”

“No.” Tango glances away. “I’ve looked for it, a few times. Never shows up.”

That brings a couple more questions to mind, but Jimmy files them away for later.

“Interesting.” Etho seems to be delving deep into the communicator’s hardware, typing rapidly. “So uh, the portal issue isn’t centered on players that spawn in Hels, just their communicators. And since overworld communicators can’t find Hels, there must be something about the world itself preventing it.”

Tango knits his brows together. “I suppose…?”

It’s at this point that Grian leans forward. “Have either of you heard about firewalls?” he asks.

Tango shakes his head, but Jimmy’s heart jolts. He has heard that word before; just the other day, when he thought he heard Grian’s voice in his head. But that’s not exactly something Jimmy wants to bring up right now. Or ever, maybe. His weird, random, intrusive thoughts don’t need to be anyone else’s problem.

“Um…” Jimmy pretends to think about it for a moment. “I think I’ve heard the term somewhere before, but I- I dunno what that actually means.”

“Right.” Grian spreads his hands. “So firewalls are a sort of added security measure that admins can use when making a new world. It’s like, an impenetrable barrier ‘round the world that makes it basically impossible for anyone unauthorized to join via portal.”

“Wait, really?” Tango asks, eyes widening. “What- why haven’t I heard about this? Do all worlds have these?”

Grian makes a noncommittal noise. “Well, firewalls are kinda outdated. Developments in server security and comm travel have basically rendered them obsolete. I mean, when’s the last time you heard of a private world being raided, besides ours?” He shrugs. “Plus, it’s a real tedious process to set one up, so they aren’t used often. Mostly for multiplayer worlds that are invite-only, if an admin is particularly concerned about hackers.”

Jimmy holds out a hand. “So wait, hang on, this- what’s this got to do with our situation?”

Impulse catches his eye. “If you try to join a firewalled world without permission, it doesn’t show up on your comm.”

“Oh,” Tango says, realization dawning in his expression. “You think Hels has a firewall?”

“It’s the only thing I can think of,” Grian says, nodding. “However, it’s a bit odd, ‘cause firewalls are usually just one-way… meaning that they keep players out, but they don’t stop players from leaving. So if that’s what’s goin’ on with Hels, it’s a firewall unlike any I’ve ever heard of- where it’s meant to keep players in, too. I’m not exactly sure if that’s why comms made in Hels can’t make portals, or if that’s due to something else entirely, but uh, that’s my best guess.”

Tango runs a hand through his hair. “That’s… I mean, this is the first I’ve heard of firewalls, but that doesn’t sound impossible…”

“So,” Jimmy speaks up hesitantly, “so how did the Hels Tek guys open a portal here?”

“How, indeed?” Etho repeats, finally looking up from Tango’s communicator. “Well, we know the portal was red, not purple. That’s like a comm portal, the way their light syncs up with the world they lead to. But uh, you know, the players coming through had items and armor on them, and they didn’t show up at world spawn. Their spawns didn’t reset, either, they uh- they kept spawning back on the other side. That makes me think this was actually a hacked nether portal, not a comm portal.”

Tango frowns. “Hang on, we- we didn’t have nether portals in Hels, either. I mean, how- there was no point, the nether and the overworld were combined into one realm.”

“Right.” Etho’s got that look in his eye- the glint of an idea about to take off. Jimmy’s seen it in Tango countless times. “You know how nether portals work?”

Tango coughs into his fist. “Oh, right, of course I know all the uh, super technical skadoodle bits, but- but maybe you should go over it.” He jerks his head towards Jimmy and Grian. “You know, for these uh, non-redstone people here.”

“Please do,” Jimmy chuckles.

Etho’s eyes crinkle upwards, like he’s smiling behind his mask. “Basically, they grab the coordinates they’re made on and translate it to nether coords, and vice versa. From what you’ve told me about Hels, being a fusion of the nether and overworld realms, a nether portal couldn’t work ‘cause it’d be like… giving it coords to a place it already is? It’d just crash and never ignite. But if you gave a nether portal frame coordinates to a different place… like, say, a different world…”

Even with Jimmy’s scarce knowledge of portals, it’s easy enough to catch Etho’s meaning.

“That’s crazy,” Tango protests. “How’d they- how could they possibly have gotten coordinates to Double Life?”

“I don’t think they did. I think they got coords to you.” Etho leans forward. “Think about it. The portal didn’t open at spawn, it opened down the hill from the ranch- where you were. I think that was intentional, considering you’re the whole reason they came.”

Jimmy’s mind is spinning. “But... how? And how’d you figure all this out?”

Etho shrugs a shoulder. “Uh, educated guess? Like, just kinda based on the things Bravo said, and what Tango’s told us about Hels and the players it spawns. But um, looking at his comm just now basically confirms it for me.”

“Wait, really?” Tango asks, surprised. “How?”

Etho tilts his head. “Communicators are pretty special items. They’re unique to the player they spawn with- even a replacement communicator like this one. It might not have the hard locks on it that prevent it from summoning portals, but it’s still unique to you. And based on its data, I can tell your player data is a little different. I think it has to do with you being from Hels.”

Tango hesitates. “Okay, and…?”

“If you and Bravo are really counterparts,” Etho says, “then I’d expect your data to be similar. Like, the same word in different languages, in a metaphorical sense. So if Bravo’s data was fed into a nether portal, it’d translate it to your data, and open a portal at your coords. Plus or minus a few blocks, probably.”

Jimmy knits his brows together. “So… you’re sayin’ they used Bravo to open a portal to Tango?” he surmises.

Etho nods. “I’d need Bravo’s comm or a look at his player data to confirm, but that’s my best guess, yeah.” He holds the communicator back out to Tango.

Tango stashes the communicator in his inventory. “So wait, what about- how does the firewall thing factor in, here?” he asks. “If it stops comm portals, wouldn’t it stop a nether portal, too?”

“Yes and no,��� Grian answers. “A firewall works by constantly scanning for portals. If it finds one trying to form, it’ll crash it. If a nether portal was used to travel between different worlds, rather than two realms on the same world, a firewall would recognize it all the same.”

“But,” Etho continues, “if they somehow figured out how to stabilize the portal… like, by sending a constant stream of updates… it’d constantly reset the scanner of the firewall. Sort of like an update suppressor. That way, the uh, the firewall can never actually register the portal as a problem and shut it down. So that’d be one way they could keep a hacked nether portal open, even in the face of a firewall.”

Tango exhales slowly. “Okay…” he says, “and how do we stop them from doing that ever again?”

Impulse winces. “That, we’re not sure about. I mean, if Bravo wasn’t there for them to grab a signal from, I guess that’d stop them. However they built a portal, it probably needs his data to function.”

“Oh, well, great.” Tango throws his hands up. “No way he won’t help them again, he hates my guts. Only reason they haven’t come back yet is ‘cause Grian locked the world down, I- I guarantee it. But we can’t just all stay locked in here forever, you’ve all got lives and other worlds to get back to.”

Jimmy frowns, putting a hand on Tango’s shoulder. “Tango, anyone who’s got a problem with you has a problem with all of us.”

“For sure,” Grian agrees.

“Besides,” Impulse says, shrugging, “not to toot our own horns or anything, but I think we handled ourselves just fine against them.”

“You mean Pearl’s wolves handled them,” Tango says flatly. “And you guys had the element of surprise. I guarantee the only reason they went down so easy is ’cause they weren’t expecting much resistance. They show up again, now knowing what they’re up against, and that’s- that’s gonna turn out a whole lot differently.” He crossed his arms. “I need to leave, before Grian opens the world back up.”

“And what, just wait for them to come after you?” Jimmy demands, his wings puffing up. “Absolutely not.”

Tango makes an unhappy noise in the back of his throat. “It’s- you understand it’s only a matter of time, right?” he stresses. “Maybe it won’t be right after Grian lifts the lockdown, okay, maybe it’ll be days, or weeks, or months. Either way, it’ll happen eventually, and when it does… whether it’s- if that happens here, or back on Hermitcraft, or the next Life world... the result will be the same. People I care about will get caught in the crossfire, I- I’m not lettin’ that happen again.”

Jimmy pauses, wings drooping. The distress in Tango’s voice is sobering. There’s no question that Tango cares fiercely about his friends, and the guilt for putting them in harm’s way must be staggering. But still, he insists, “We don’t mind stayin’ put-”

“For how long, though?” Tango asks pointedly. “I can’t ask you guys to stay here forever. Like, I- I can’t stress enough how obsessive Atlas is. He came for me after ten years, okay, he’s not gonna just give up or lose interest. There will always be the risk of them opening another portal to me, so long as Bravo is in Hels.”

“So what if Bravo wasn’t in Hels?” Impulse cuts in.

Tango gives him a confused look. “What do you mean?”

Impulse’s eyes are alight with excitement as he gains steam with his idea. “What if we went to Hels and got him out? That way, he’s not mad at you for being stuck there anymore, right, and Hels Tek can’t use him to make another portal.”

“What, you mean we open a portal to Hels?” Tango asks, raising his eyebrows. “I- I thought we already established that our comms can’t take us there, what- how are we supposed to get there?”

“The same way they got here,” Etho says. “We use your data to open a hacked nether portal to Bravo. Ahah.”

As intimidating as the prospect of encountering Hels Tek again is, Jimmy has to admit it’s probably the only solution. They can’t just ignore the problem and hope it goes away, not if it means Tango could get randomly attacked at any moment. And with all of the Double Lifers together, they stand a much better chance of succeeding.

“That’s a great idea!” Jimmy exclaims. “We grab him, shake Atlas down for the key to the collar while we’re at it, and get out. Problem solved.”

Tango doesn’t seem nearly as enthused. “No way. Absolutely no way. That’s- that’s way too dangerous, if you guys get stranded there- and Atlas is already looking for more hybrids to make farms with, he was about to take Jimmy for a feather farm!”

A brief silence follows this revelation.

Grian grimaces, ruffling his wings. “Oh, woof.”

“What?” Impulse asks, taken aback. “That’s why he had Jimmy chained up, too?”

Jimmy blinks. “Oh, is that what he meant?”

“What’d you th- you didn’t know?” Tango asks incredulously.

Jimmy holds his hands up. “Hey, hey, I didn’t spend much time thinkin’ about what he said to me!” he says sheepishly. “I was more concerned about you.”

Tango pinches the bridge of his nose. “Oh. Oh, great. Well yeah, that’s what he wanted you for, to stick you in a feather farm skadoodler for all eternity.”

Jimmy swallows. No wonder Tango’s been so against the idea of them going against Hels Tek again. Death is no big deal- they’d simply respawn. Few injuries cause lasting damage. But being trapped in a farm like that, with no means to escape…

“Well,” he says, “that still doesn’t change my mind. You’re his number one target, okay, you can’t go without backup.”

“No,” Tango huffs. “Let me do it. I- I know Bravo shouldn’t just be left there forever, but that’s not your guys’ faults! It’s my life, my mistake, you guys shouldn’t be putting yourselves at risk like that-”

“Tango,” Jimmy interrupts, “we’re not gonna make a portal to Hels and just send you through alone-”

“Well, I’m not letting you guys come with me!” Tango shoots back. “Most of you guys are hybrids or monsters, too, and I’m not gonna risk Atlas turning you into farms.”

Grian clicks his tongue. “Ey, we wouldn’t let that happen.”

“Yeah,” Jimmy says, “and what’s the alternative? You just take off to some solo world until Hels Tek comes a’knockin’?”

Tango shrugs. “I mean, I’d be fine with that-”

“No,” Jimmy says firmly. “I’m not lettin’ that happen. This is our only option, to put this problem to bed forever, and we stand the best chance if we do it together. We have to take it.” He grabs Tango’s hand. “Please, Tango.”

Tango hesitates, staring at their intertwined hands.

Now more than ever, Jimmy desperately wishes that he had some sense of what Tango’s thinking- even just the slightest insight to his thoughts, the faintest impression of an emotion through their soulbond. Especially since he’s had his confidence in reading Tango so thoroughly shaken over the last week. It’s scary to consider that he might not know Tango nearly half as well as he should, that Tango can so effectively mask his true feelings even from him.

“... fine,” Tango says, after a small eternity. “Fine, okay, we- let’s plan an invasion to Hels, sure.”

Jimmy gasps. “Really?”

“But,” Tango says warningly, “we gotta go about this extremely carefully, alright? No willy-nilly ‘rushing in blindly without a plan’ nonsense. And- and once we’re there, if at any point I tell you guys to flee, you- you best be fleein’, got it? With extra flee. No stupid heroics of noble stupidness.”

It’s a chance. That’s better than nothing. “Yes, alright!” Jimmy cheers. “Thank you!”

(Yay, we’re going to Hels- said no one ever.)

(Do they know what they’re getting into?)

(Oh boy, here we go.)

Etho shrugs. “Whatever you say, Tango, you’re the uh, you’re the Hels expert, here.”

Impulse folds his arms. “That’s a dirty condition you kinda tacked on the end, there,” he mutters, “but I’ll accept it.”

“Alright then.” Tango gives a tired sigh, but the corners of his mouth are curling into a smile. “I- I guess we’re doin’ this. We’ve got some room in the basement at the ranch, we can build it there.”

“Excellent.” Grian grins. “Let’s build a portal to Hels, fellas.”

~*~

Jimmy’s startled awake by a shout.

Heart pounding, he squints into the dark room. As his eyes struggle to adjust in the scarce light, he can just barely make out Tango sitting upright in bed. His rapid, shallow breaths wheeze through clenched teeth, faint sparks emitting from his dim blaze rods as they try to ignite.

“Tango,” Jimmy whispers, sitting up, “you okay?”

Tango’s breathing hitches. Then he turns to collapse against Jimmy’s chest, clinging fiercely to his shirt. His entire body is trembling. “Nightmare,” he manages to get out.

Jimmy’s heart twists. He knew it was only a matter of time, but that doesn’t make it any easier to see. Gently, he wraps his arms around Tango, then his wings for good measure. “I got ya,” he murmurs. “I’m here.”

Tango tucks his face against Jimmy’s shoulder and falls silent. Maybe he’ll want to talk about it in the morning, maybe he won’t. But for now, Jimmy just holds him, and hopes that’s enough.

~*~

Jimmy stares at the redstone circuitry laid out before him. “I understand none of this.”

Though it’s only been a few days since they started work on the portal, they’ve already made a lot of progress. Impulse and Etho have been over basically around the clock, with Bdubs and Joel tagging along more often than not. They’ll watch the redstoners work until they get bored, and inevitably wander upstairs to bug Jimmy. Grian checks in on them every now and then, and the other Double Lifers have popped by for little visits, so it’s been a lot of activity at the ranch. Lots of people coming and going.

It’s strange, but not necessarily in a bad way. Almost like an actual pleasant community feeling. Neighbors helping neighbors and all that.

A dedicated digging session has left them with a bit more space in the basement, allowing them to section off a separate room from Tango’s sugar cane farm. They finished it with a stone floor and simple wooden walls at Bdubs’s insistence (he considered it unacceptable to just leave it all as freshly-dug dirt). An obsidian portal frame (complete with corners at Etho’s insistence) stands empty against the back wall, leaving abundant floor space for the redstone- of which there is plenty.

Redstone dust wires criss-cross through rows of repeaters and hopper lines. It’s all far beyond Jimmy’s capacity to understand, of course, but even Tango seems a bit baffled. He’s claimed many times that his understanding of redstone is surface-level at best, and that his real skill comes in applying the various components and systems in creative ways. But he’s at least been able to help with the construction, the actual placing of redstone components.

“Right,” Tango laughs, running a hand through his hair. “Let’s- lemme see if I’ve got this right…” He points at a long line of redstone dust. “Main circuit to the portal.”

Impulse nods. “Yep.” 

Tango steps gingerly around the redstone, gesturing towards a rather complex looking amalgamation of observers and comparators. “This nonsense over here will turn my skadoodle bits into a fireable signal.”

Etho, leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets, chuckles. “Pretty much.”

“And this,” Tango waves at the hoppers, “will count out the final coords before they hop on the main bus line to the portal.”

Jimmy nods hesitantly. “Okay… okay, cool, so- so is it done, then?”

“Not quite,” Impulse says. “We need a player detector.”

Tango creases his brows together. “What, like a- like a pufferfish? A skulk sensor?”

“No, more like a- a whole separate system,” Etho explains. “It’s more than just registering your presence. We need something that can read your data, pick out your coordinates, and send them to the portal for translation to Bravo.”

Tango exhales slowly. “That… sounds pretty complicated.”

“Oh, it will be,” Impulse says, folding his arms. “I mean, just think about how much data each player contains, right, all the codes that dictate our behavior and biology… we don’t wanna overload this thing, so it’ll require some heavy-duty filtering.”

“Not only that,” Etho continues, “but uh, if that firewall thing turns out to be a problem, we’re gonna have to figure out a way to stabilize the portal, too. That’ll take some tinkering with different power sources til we find the exact right input to override the firewall’s checker.”

Jimmy winces; he’d been hoping for a quicker solution. It’s already been over a week since the invasion, and he knows Tango hates being stalled. The sooner they get this problem taken care of, the sooner they can stop worrying and get back to their normal lives. Jimmy himself doesn’t have anywhere else to be, but the other Double Lifers do. And even if they don’t mind the unexpected stay-cation, it definitely bothers Tango that their lives have been disrupted for his sake. Goodness knows he’s already got enough of a guilt complex.

But Tango simply gives a bemused smile. “Well, let’s get started, then.”

~*~

“Are we really sure we wanna do this?”

Jimmy winces at Tango’s tone. “I know, I know,” he says regretfully, “it wasn’t my favorite idea either. But if it can get that collar off’a you, we gotta try, right?”

Trying to remove the collar manually had resulted in a sharp, shooting pain through Tango’s neck at the slightest movement. Trying to remove it with redstone had proven unsuccessful- clearly, it was designed to be insulated against any outside signals. Trying to pick the lock had resulted in nothing but a lot of frustration. So that left them with their last resort.

They’ve moved outside, round the back of the ranch, to avoid getting blood stains all over their newly refurbished house. A random bed has been placed down to provide them with a quick and easy respawn, their items temporarily stowed in a chest. Impulse holds a Sharpness V sword, tail flicking as he watches them apprehensively.

“I’m only gonna do this if you’re okay with it,” he tells Tango seriously. “We can go back to the drawing board, come up with some other things to try…”

“No, no,” Tango shakes his head, “I don’t- you shouldn’t be wasting time on this, you’re already working pretty much nonstop on the portal.”

The frustration in his voice is evident. Impulse frowns. “I don’t mind…”

“Well, I do!” Tango says, crossing his arms and glancing away.

Jimmy exchanges a look with Impulse before putting a gentle hand on Tango’s shoulder. “I know there’s a chance it won’t work,” he starts quietly, “and we’ll have killed ourselves for nothin’. No one likes gettin’ their head cut off. But it’ll be over quick, we’ll respawn straight back here, and then at least we’ll know we tried everything.”

Tango makes a noncommittal noise. “Hey, I- I’m not afraid of a little decapitation, alright, I just… I feel kinda bad putting you through this, you know?” Guilt creeps into his expression. “It’s not your neck that the stupid thing is stuck on. You shouldn’t have to-”

“We’re in this together,” Jimmy tells him steadily. “So if you’re willin’ to try it, I’m happy to die along with ya.”

Tango manages a faint laugh. “Jeeze, honey, you- you don’t have to make it sound so dramatic. We aren’t on a three-life system anymore.”

Jimmy shrugs. “Well, that’s how I feel! Honestly, if there’s even a chance this’ll get that thing off’a you, I’m down.”

“Alright.” Tango takes a quick, steadying breath. “Okay, I wanna try.” He glances at Impulse. “Uh- commence the chop-ificating, then, I guess.”

Impulse nods; he’s keeping his expression and general demeanor calm, reassuring. “Okay, then. So here’s what I’m gonna do…” He carefully sets the edge of his blade along the rim of Tango’s collar, so that the metal is just barely touching skin, and then pinches the collar between the fingers of his other hand. “I’ll give it one quick, clean slice, and try to pull the collar off your body, okay?”

Tango tilts his chin up. “Okay,” he whispers. He’s nervous, now; every muscle in his body is rigid.

Jimmy reaches for his hand. “I’ll be right there with ya.”

Impulse tightens his grip on the sword. “Tango, gimme a countdown whenever you’re ready.”

“Alright.” Tango exhales shakily, closing his eyes. “Five... four... three... two...”

Jimmy closes his eyes and squeezes Tango’s hand.

“One.”

Pain slices across Jimmy’s neck- an intense, searing burn, like he’s swallowed a bucket of lava. There’s a rush of vertigo, the world spinning off-kilter around him. He’s instantly thrust into darkness, that all-consuming void with which he’s rather familiar.

And then it’s over. He’s back, sitting on the bed with Tango in a piled heap of limbs. 

Jimmy sucks in a breath. Now that everything’s stopped spinning, he can see that the collar is still around Tango’s neck.

“Oh, babe,” he murmurs, sweeping Tango into a hug. “I’m sorry.”

Tango’s laugh is muffled against his shoulder. “Worth a shot, right?”

Impulse, standing a few feet away and holding a bloody sword, looks dismayed. “No good,” he says as he walks over, putting the sword away. “Your body respawned before I could pull the collar off. But uh, that’s… not the only issue.”

That makes Tango look over. “What is it?”

“I caught a look at the inner face of it,” Impulse says, frowning, “the part that’s actually touching your skin? And, um… it looks like there’s a bunch of little… spikes on the inside of the collar?”

“Spikes?” Jimmy repeats, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah, I don’t know how else to describe them?” Impulse rubs the back of his neck. “Um, they’re black in color, not super big... probably thinner than my pinky finger but not like, needles or anything…”

“Oh.” Tango blinks. “It’s the thorns. They’re wither rose thorns. That’s how it works.”

Jimmy’s heart jolts. “What?”

Tango spreads his hands. “When Atlas locked the collar, it must’ve caused a- a bunch of thorns to pop out and dig into my neck. But they aren’t- they don’t have the full strength of wither rose, so that’s why I’m not getting the full wither effect, and after a while, you know, they sorta- they numb the area, so I don’t feel them. But when we start yanking on the collar, it forces them deeper into my skin, so it hurts.”

“Oh... my gosh,” Jimmy breathes, aghast. “That’s- that’s horrible!”

The whole concept of the collar is already inhumane- to treat a fellow sentient player like a simple animal. But this? This is just plain evil. 

Impulse seems to be trying very hard not to get upset again. “Well, then,” he says, voice tight. “That rules out my next suggestion, which was to just go at it with a few sharp axes. I don’t wanna like, hammer those thorns deeper into your neck...” His expression turns thoughtful. “What if we try and get something sharp between your neck and the collar, slice off the thorns all the way around? Then we could-”

“No,” Tango interrupts. “Look, I- I appreciate the help, but if we tweak this thing the wrong way, it could probably jab an artery, or puncture my trachea, and then I’d respawn and be right back at square one again! No, I- I think we’re done.”

Impulse looks like he wants to argue, but Jimmy catches his gaze, giving him an imploring look. 

“Alright,” Impulse relents. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

“Yeah,” Jimmy says, “we’ll get that collar off, I promise.”

“It’s fine.” Tango’s avoiding Jimmy’s eyes. “It... might not be the worst thing, you know, to have my fire locked down. Considering our fancy new house and all.”

Oh, they can’t have that. Jimmy puts a hand on his shoulder. “Tango,” he says seriously, “your fire is a part of you, and I’m not gonna rest til we’ve got it back.”

Tango sighs, but when he looks up, his eyes are fond. “I know.”

Impulse exhales slowly. “Do you... wanna try and get the cuffs off, then?” he offers.

“What?” Tango jolts. “Why? They aren’t hurtin’ anything.”

Impulse holds up his hands. “Hey, it’s okay, I just thought... if they’re from that terrible place, maybe you’d wanna get rid of ‘em?”

“And y’know,” Jimmy chimes in, “it’d be a lot easier for someone else to crack them off ya, couple good swings with an axe, maybe…”

“That won’t work,” Tango says stiffly. “They’ve been on me for so long now, been through so many respawns that if I’m not the one to remove them, it- they’ll just keep coming back.” 

Impulse inhales through his teeth, understanding dawning in his eyes. “Oh, man.”

“Are you sure?” Jimmy asks, his heart sinking. He isn’t overly familiar with the universal rules that determine what does and doesn’t respawn along with a player, but Tango seems pretty certain.

“Yeah. They’re basically part of my data now.”

“Oh.”

The unspoken question is glaringly obvious: ‘why haven’t you removed them yet, then?’ The cuffs seem just as well-made as the collar, but surely there’s a way to cut through them. At least, he should’ve been able to find a way sometime during the last ten years- even if he wasn’t comfortable asking any of the Hermits to help him.

But Jimmy can tell Tango’s already hit his limit for today. It’s a subject he’s always avoided discussing in the past, so they’ll just have to wait until he’s ready.

(Oh, gonna make that mistake again?)

‘Shut up,’ Jimmy thinks.

~*~

“Need some help, hun?”

“Ack!” Jimmy gives a start, accidentally yanking out the feather he’d been teasing. He whirls around. “Tango!”

Tango holds his hands up. “Sorry, sorry!”

“Jeeze,” Jimmy laughs, catching his breath, “I- I thought you guys were still working on the portal!”

“Well, yeah,” Tango says, closing the door behind him, “but Etho thinks we need a redstone ore block and we didn’t have any layin’ around, so he and Impulse went mining.” He crosses over to sit on the bed, curiously studying the feathers strewn about. “Doin’ some preening?”

“Um...” Jimmy ducks his head sheepishly. “Yeah, just- just the uh, burned ones... they’re startin’ to itch.”

Tango gives him a sad smile. “Hey, it’s alright. You don’t have to hide it from me, I- I won’t get all weird mega guilt-trippy about it.”

Jimmy softens. “I just... I know you’ve been beating yourself up about it, that’s all.” He gazes at the burned feather in his hand. “It was an accident. I don’t blame you.”

“I know.” Tango runs a gentle hand over one of Jimmy’s wings. “Can… can I help?”

Jimmy smiles. “Sure.”

~*~ 

“Wait, are you serious?” Tango asks, eyes wide. “You think the portal’s ready to go? Right now?”

Grain nods. “Yeah, I do.”

Jimmy glances between them with raised eyebrows. They’d called Grian over for a little update on the current state of the portal project- now complete with the fancy player detector system that the redstoners have been painstakingly building over the past week. But once Etho explained that the final step was stabilization, Grian had dropped a bomb on them.

“I’ve uh… been doin’ some research,” Grian continues, “and I’m pretty sure that Hels has a firewall that’s just been sorta… inverted? It’s still a one-way barrier, it just stops players from making portals out rather than in. ‘Course, it’s still inaccessible by comm portal, but our little set-up here should circumvent that. Once we’ve gotten the portal to lock onto Bravo’s coords, there shouldn’t be anythin’ stopping it from forming.”

Etho scratches the side of his mask. “Well, if we don’t have to stabilize the portal, that’ll definitely simplify things,” he says. “We might actually have everything we need already.”

“Couldn’t hurt to fire it up,” Impulse agrees, glancing at Tango. “Just to give it a little test drive? If we do get a portal open, we can easily shut it down right after. We don’t have to actually go through it.”

Tango hesitates. “But wouldn’t Grian have to lift the lockdown?”

“Yeah, I will,” Grian amends. “But I’ve actually just finished settin’ up a firewall, so when I lift the lockdown, we’ll still be protected. We’ll be able to leave through any portal we want, but no one else can get in without bein’ on the whitelist.”

“Wait, really?” Tango looks surprised. “Why- did you let the others know? I- I’m sure they’ll wanna get back to their other worlds.”

“Ey, I only just finished it!” Grian defends. “I wanted to let you lot know first, so there wouldn’t be any panic or confusion if people started randomly leavin’ through portals. I’ll inform the others, but uh, I’m pretty sure they’ll wanna just stick around til we get this done. Especially if the portal’s ready to go. All that’ll be left to do is come up with our plan of attack, and we’ll need all hands on deck for the actual mission.”

“Yeah,” Impulse says easily, “Hermitcraft can wait.”

Tango chews his lip. “I… I guess we can try it,” he relents.

“Great!” Grian pulls his communicator out. “Gimme a second to lift the lockdown, okay…”

Jimmy turns to Tango, taking him by the hands. “Hey, is this alright?” he asks softly. “We don’t have to try it today if you don’t wanna.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright,” Tango assures him, squeezing his hands. “It’s just- it’s a bit sooner than I was expecting, you know? But this is good. I mean, if this works, then this whole business will finally be over.”

Jimmy’s eyes trace the collar around Tango’s neck. “Yeah. And not a moment too soon.”

Obviously they’ve still got a pretty significant task ahead of them. It’ll be no easy feat to storm Hels Tek, not if they’ve got as much muscle backing them up as they did for the invasion. Atlas is one slippery fella, and it might be hard to get Bravo to listen to them long enough to cooperate. But getting the portal in working order is another hurdle down, so they can shift gears towards the impending mission. And once that’s done, there’ll no longer be a threat hanging over them.

Suffice to say, Jimmy’s looking forward to getting back to his domestic bliss.

“Okay,” Grian says, glancing up, “lockdown is officially lifted. Go ahead.”

“Alright, Tango.” Etho pushes away from the wall. “Uh, just hop onto the redstone ore block whenever you’re ready, I guess? Everything should be in place.”

Tango exhales shakily, looking nervous, but he manages to give Jimmy a smile. “Here goes nothin’...”

Turning away, he steps onto the redstone ore block, which immediately lights up. It starts a sort of ripple effect along the dust that connects it to the rest of the redstone, triggering all kinds of ticking and flashing. It’s all Jimmy can do to follow the signal as it travels towards the portal frame-

Static fills the air, and the portal ignites. Swirling red light fills the frame.

“Oh, nice,” Grian breathes.

“Yes!” Impulse cheers. “We did it!”

“Okay, uh, Tango?” Etho nods at him. “Go ahead and step off the block, now.”

Tango doesn’t respond. He’s staring at the portal with an unreadable expression clouding his gaze, almost as if in a trance.

Jimmy quickly hurries to his side. “Tango,” he murmurs, gently shaking his arm, “come on.”

“Huh?” Tango jolts. “Oh, oh right, sorry!” 

He steps aside, and the portal remains lit. Impulse grins. “Alright, looks like we’re good,” he says, stooping over to hit a button next to the portal. A piston extends across the redstone line, and the portal extinguishes.

Jimmy lets out a breath of relief. An irrational part of him had been worried that Hels players would immediately start pouring through. “You okay?” he asks Tango quietly.

Tango nods. “Yeah, sorry,” he says with an apologetic smile. “I’m fine, it just… kinda hit me all at once.”

“Yeah,” Impulse says, “I definitely wasn’t expecting to have a working portal today, either. But hey, good job guys!”

“Yeah, nicely done, fellas,” Grian says, sounding pleased. He starts typing on his communicator. “I’m gonna let the others know we’ve got the portal workin’, and tomorrow… we’ll all meet to start planning our invasion of Hels. I’m sure if we put our heads together, we can come up with a solid plan to get Bravo, get that key from Atlas, and get out.”

Tango snorts. “Oh, sure. Easy peasy.”

“Don’t worry,” Jimmy says, putting a hand on Tango’s shoulder. “We won’t go through til we’re all good and ready, yeah?”

Tango’s expression softens. “Yeah.”

“Right.” Grian puts his communicator away. “Get some rest, everyone, and we’ll see you tomorrow. Details in chat.”

~*~

<Grian> portal done. meet @ impulse and bdubs tomorrow at noon for hels invasion plotting. all ideas welcome

<PearlescentMoon> Ooh :0 

<InTheLittleWood> wait seriously? already??

<Renthedog> YO amazing job on the portal guys! :D 

<BdoubleO100> oh THANKS A LOT for volunteering us to host GRIAN!!

<Grian> :P 

~*~

Later that night, in the dark quiet of their room, Tango rolls over to nestle his head beneath Jimmy’s chin, claws bunching up the fabric of his shirt.

“Thanks,” he murmurs.

Jimmy hums. “For what?”

“For… not givin’ up on me.”

“What’d’you mean?”

“I mean… you know, I- after everything I did, and- and everything I said…”

“I already told you, that doesn’t matter to me.”

“Yeah, I know. But when I realized the secret was out… that things were- that we couldn’t just go back to normal… I mean, I was convinced it was over. Everything, my- my new life, my freedom, my friends. Us. But you never gave up hope.”

“Of course. It’s been a long road here, alright, I- I’m not givin’ that up without a fight.”

Tango tilts his chin up to look at Jimmy, red eyes glowing in the dark, and leans in to meet his lips. They kiss slow and sweet. Warmth hums in Jimmy’s chest.

This hasn’t been an easy journey, and he knows there’s plenty more challenges still ahead. Even if the mission to Hels goes well and they achieve all that they want to, the experiences Tango’s been through won’t magically go away. It’ll take time. Healing isn’t linear. But with everything out in the open now and the support of their friends, Jimmy’s hopeful that Tango can start to unlearn his self-hatred. Jimmy will be there every step of the way.

All too soon, Tango pulls away. “We should get some rest,” he whispers, settling against Jimmy again.

“Yeah,” Jimmy sighs ruefully, draping a wing across Tango. “Gonna need all two of my brain cells at full strength.”

Tango huffs a soft laugh. “Love you, honey.”

Jimmy closes his eyes, smiling. “Love you, too.

~*~

Jimmy wakes up to a cold bed.

That immediately sets off alarm bells in his head, because since when has Tango gotten out of bed before him? Then he opens his eyes and realizes it’s still night; a faint crescent moon hangs in the starry sky visible through their window. Their room is dark and empty. Tango is nowhere to be seen.

The alarm bells become a siren.

No, no, no, no, no.

Jimmy springs out of bed, sparing a second only to grab his shoes off the floor before throwing the door open. His heart is in his throat as he flies down the stairs to the main level- all dark and empty- and hooks the corner to wrench open the basement door. 

Already he can see the chilling red glow from the portal cast across the wall, a shadow of bleeding light, and a million curses scream through his mind. His stomach feels like it’s knotted in on itself and his lungs are burning for air, he’s moving faster than what seems physically possible and yet not nearly fast enough as he crashes down the stairs and bursts into the portal room, mouth opening to cry out-

Just in time to watch Tango vanish into the red light.

~*~

Somewhere in Hels, a player walks through a portal.

Tango’s heartbeat pounds in his ears. He’s already started shaking- if it weren’t for the wither effect flowing from his collar, he’s certain his blaze rods would be igniting right now. It’s a bizarre mix of emotions. The scent of ash and the sight of netherrack are comforting, in a way. Familiar. But it’s also terrifying, because there’s no mistaking where he is.

(There’s a reason he doesn’t like hanging out in the nether.)

Fear threatens to swallow him. He pushes it down; he’s got a job to do.

Forcing a steadying breath through his clenched teeth, he takes in his surroundings, ears pricked cautiously. He’s definitely not at spawn- he’s at the border of a basalt delta, actually, fine gray particles fluttering through the air. Aside from the portal behind him, there’s not a structure in sight. No sounds save for the distant bubbling of lava and the distinctive slap of magma cubes.

Tango frowns, chewing his lip. The portal was supposed to take him to Bravo, so he must be around here somewhere. Why he’s not at Hels Tek, Tango isn’t sure. Maybe they’re out on an errand run? Either way, he ought to start looking around.

But first, he’s got to break the portal so no one can follow him. Everything he’d packed made it through with him, thankfully, so he equips his pickaxe and turns back to the portal-

Just in time for Jimmy to emerge, running straight into him.

The collision knocks Tango to the ground, pickaxe flying from his hand, his forehead stinging where it smacked against Jimmy’s chin. Blinking spots from his eyes, he pushes himself up on his elbows with a groan. Once his vision stops spinning, he locks eyes with Jimmy, who seems just as shocked as he is.

Both of them shout at exactly the same moment.

“What are you doing here?!”

~*~

[mcyt-as-birds]

Hey!! I hope I'm not bothering you but I just found your blog (love your blog it's amazing) and, as a fellow mcyt enjoyer & bird enthusiast, I just have to ask you what birds you would assign to Niki, Quackity, Ranboo & Jimmysolidarity, based on their character/personality/looks? I'm just asking because I'm making a mcyt harpy AU and you seem like someone knowledgeable in birds and generally like a cool person so I hope I'm not intruding on your time!

So far I think Niki could be a flamingo (despite looking pretty they're pretty tough lol but I'm having second thoughts on that), Ranboo could be a long bird w long legs (maybe some kind of stork or stilt i dunno), with Quackity I'm torn between a Loggerhead Shrike and a Goldeneye Barrow's duck (or any duck bcs well, it's in his name lol. I actually can't decide if I should go for his dsmp character or general mcyt persona) and Jimmy I have no frickign idea (maybe a canary??? I've been thinking about this for days and I have no clue lmao).

Anyways hope you have a good day/night and once again love your blog :]

AAAAAAA so sorry I didn’t see this ask until now!!!! I’ve been absolutely going through it lately since moving but it’s getting better and I’ve successfully seen and photographed a bunch of new lifer birds so like win!!

So, absolutely depends on which SMP for these characters but if we’re going DSMP for niki, ranboo, and Quackity then these are my assignments;

Niki: my first instinct for niki is American kestrel (Falco sparverius), but she also fits one of the jaeger sp pretty well. Personally I’d go with Parasitic Jaeger (Stercorarius parasiticus) also known as the arctic skua. They’re incredibly skilled aerialists that are called “parasitic” because they pursue other seabirds until they give up their catch and leave it for the jaeger. Girlboss of them. Jaeger is also a German originating word meaning “hunter” so it’s double cool! They look like this! They remind me of marble a lot.

Quackity: I’ve given him two assignments before, but both were for QSMP!Quackity which is very different vibes to DSMP!Quackity but I think they’re generalized enough to still work. The first one, for a General Vibes quackity is the ferruginous duck because duh, duck, but also They Have Secrets. And Know All Of Yours. Just look at those eyes! (Only males have the bright yellow eyes btw.) Barrow’s goldeneye IS a good choice as well so if you wanted to I’d say go for it! I also think ruddy duck (Oxyura jamaicensis) is a great choice personality wise because they are Mean Little Bastards to each other and others rip.

Here’s a male ferruginous duck! Oh god what does he know

I am, however, a HUGE fan of hummingbird!Quackity particularly for the small size->bigger aggression of some species. It’s so unexpected! There’s also large parallels with how they have to constantly be on the move and eating insects and drinking nectar, with some species needing to consume up to three times their bodyweight each day just to survive! It reminds me a lot of how DSMP!Quackity is always trying to do Bigger and More Things and just never stops, ever, ultimately to his own detriment when he can no longer keep up. Again rip.

Anyways the species I assigned him before based on coloration of the art is the violet sabrewing (Campylopterus hemileucurus) which is one of the larger but less aggressive emeralds. HOWEVER they do end up completely intimidating other species away from feeding flowers just from their size and General Vibes. They’re also cool as fuck so I won’t be changing that. But if you wanted something more aggressive then I’d go with ruby-throated hummingbird.

Here’s what a violet sabrewing looks like!

Ranboo: This is a bit of a tricky one, because it would be extremely easy to go “black and white bird boom done” and I don’t think that’s like bad but there is More To Him. Past assignments I have given him include swallow-tailed kite (Elanoides forficatus) for a miss beloved design, purple-crowned fairywren (Malurus coronatus) for a general streamersona/r800 ranbrand, and violet-backed starling (Cinnyricinclus leucogaster) for r800.

But if we are going purely DSMP!Ranboo, I have two different ideas.

Personality: killdeer (Charadrius vociferus)

Design: secretarybird (Sagittarius serpentarius)

Personality wise, the killdeer fits mainly because of its well-known predator responses “broken-wing display/injury feigning” and “ungulate display.” The former is where the adult killdeer will pretend to be injured (and thus, an easier target) in order to lead predators away from their nest and chicks. Then, they’ll lose or frustrate the predator until they give up and it’s safe to return to the nest. The other predator response is what I affectionately call the “fuck it, we ball” response, where the bird lowers its head, raises its wings, and charges at the predator. It is frequently fatal. I don’t think I have to explain why it’s so Ranboo coded but if you need evidence look up anyone threatening Michael lmao. Also you probably didn’t want to hear that much about them but listen I love them so much they are so cool and baby.

They look like this when doing the broken wing display! They also just kind of have the panicked deer in headlights look that I feel like he embodies.

The second option, the secretarybird or secretary bird, is even funnier looking but fits the aesthetic so well and honestly some of his strange and unsettling vibes. The secretarybird (Sagittarius serpentarius) is the largest bird of prey by height and length. They are almost entirely terrestrial and hunt their prey by—get this—stomping it to death. I’m not kidding. They have been described as “what you get when you mix an eagle, a stork, and a bad hair day” because of the stupid little feathers on the back of their head. They kinda look lights on but nobody’s home sometimes. Drumroll please for this absolute fucking creature (affectionate)

Yeah, I wasn’t exaggerating. Why do they look like that.

Jimmy: is an extremely difficult one, tbh. Everyone assigns him canary which, like, fair—but honestly it does not fit his personality or his design, and only really works for life series!Jimmy. And they don’t even give him a specific species! (Although ppl usually mean domestic canary without saying it.) No hate to people who do this and the canary in the coal mine symbolism is cool I just have Opinions and Propaganda and I’ve been Enabled.

I have assigned him one bird before, the eastern rosella (Platycercus eximius) and I kinda stand by it for the content creator, but it doesn’t fit his general minecraft sona.

To figure this out, we must go even deeper. Into the deep dark, mind the wardens. You probably didn’t want this but Too Bad you’ve activated my trap card and now you have to suffer.

Jimmy is a peculiar character because he is very dear to everyone, but also the butt of every joke—and he likes it that way! He’s a key player in many important events in storylines, but also the most often discarded. His luck is terrible, yes, but it can be argued that he brings about misfortune for others more than he himself experiences it. This is across hermitcraft, the life series, and empires.

So I propose this to you and the general fandom:

Jimmy is a snowy albatross.

The snowy albatross (Diomedea exulans) previously described as the wandering albatross along with the Amsterdam, Tristan, and Antipodean albatross sp, is a bird that is heavily steeped in superstition. While generally considered a bird that would bring sailors good luck, to harm or kill an albatross was to bring about the sea’s wrath upon the entire crew. In The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, the Mariner kills an albatross that is being cared for by the crew. The crew became very angry with him, believing that he had called upon bad luck, and forced him to wear the albatross around his neck. This is where the metaphor “an albatross around his neck” comes from, symbolizing an unwanted burden causing anxiety and distress. At the end of the story, the mariner learns to care for all the sea creatures and his releases from his curse, but is forced to walk the earth for eternity and tell his tale. This is where the albatross has also become a symbol of past sins, regret, and atonement.

Jimmy personifies these qualities so much, along with hidden power, vulnerability, and unconditional love SO MUCH I need the fandom to see my vision so bad. Albatross Jimmy propaganda!!!!

They look like this

And the chicks are so cute it’s not even funny.

I could go on and on about how Jimmy is so albatross coded it’s not even funny and facts about them AND I WILL LETS GO albatrosses have specialized wing anatomy that allows them to lock their shoulder in place and fly hundreds of miles without flapping their wings even once! They also follow ships and will eat anything and everything presented to them, including garbage, and will gorge themselves on food until they are so bloated they can only float on the water. They can live for over 50 YEARS, the oldest known lasyan albatross (and bird in general!) is a female named Wisdom who is 70 years old and still kicking! They are often considered silly or ugly birds by people unfamiliar with them but are very beloved by those within the birding and research communities and snowy albatrosses are one of the most researched bird species in the world! They are fiercely loyal, highly protective, and also absolute little goofballs. Like Jimmy. They are also social birds, with a huge range of vocalizations and displays LIKE JIMMY they are kind of bad at survival (but mostly human threats) and need a lot of help LIKE JIMMY (please protect your local albatrosses) and they are very loud LIKE JI—[*I am forcibly yanked off the stage by a shepherd’s hook in cartoonish fashion*]

[mangoshorthand]

No Hard Feelings- [Five Hargreeves x F Reader]. Ch8

SUMMARY: You're Five's latest assassination target, but things don't go to plan and now he wants you as his fuckbuddy. Funny how what we want and what we need are rarely in line. (Five's physically aged up). Obvious smut warning but there's plot too, I swear! Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five- Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve

In this chapter: After a fraught previous evening, it seems like a normal workday.

Work drama and romantic dinners below. Proceed at your own risk.

Chapter 8: Dinner With Miss Jane

Charlie is not, in fact, your superior; you are both Senior Account Managers. Despite this, he has a tendency to behave as if this isn’t the case

This morning, you arrived at the office with a double espresso in hand, trying to stave off the symptoms of the broken sleep you got last night. Your mood was not improved by a message from your boss, Joe.

Hi, Charlie said you wanted to grow your client portfolio so he sent over some of his end-of-lifers for me to pass on: mostly >10k contracts but if you can get them to renew it would be great experience!

Either Joseph is an idiot or doing a very good impression of it. Charlie has essentially dumped his no-hope clients on you so that it doesn’t affect his team’s metrics when they eventually drop off the books at the end of the quarter. You seethe for the barest of moments before an idea strikes: you’ve got the capacity…why not make this backfire? After many false starts, you message him back:

Good morning Joe, thanks for this. I know Charlie can struggle with converting clients so my team can donate capacity and take these on.

Is this petty and passive aggressive? Yes. Yes it is. You get to work, furiously, schmoozing the new clients with a vengeance, hatred for Charlie fuelling your skills. It's a good distraction too- if it were just a normal day, you might spend it brooding over Five. You've kept his note about your TV. You keep scolding yourself for the sentimental weakness but you couldn't bring yourself to dispose of it: something told you it might be the last you see of him.

Mike and the investigator sit in the darkened office, staring at the latter’s laptop. 

“That’s the same kid?”

"I'm as sure as I can be.”

Two images are displayed side by side on the screen. Mike squints and leans in: in one, a grainy security cam still, the young man stands smilingly in front of the motel service desk, just seconds before smashing the mirror he’d used to kill his dead brother’s only son. In the other, a picture snapped by the investigator, the man is in motion on the street and about to enter a building.

“Looks like the same fucking suit,” mumbles Mike, tapping his single gold incisor with a stubby fingernail. He sits in his desk chair, leaning forward and scrutinizing the images. He still wears a black armband for Chet. His sister-in-law hasn't left the house since the funeral- when Chet was laid to rest beside his father. Soon the tombstone would read:

ROBERT CHARLES MONROE 01. 01. 1965 - 08. 20. 2018 Beloved Husband, Father, Son and Brother And also his son CHESTER “CHET” MONROE 03. 19. 1999- 10. 19. 2025 Loved and missed by all their family.

Mike sighs as the investigator shows him a completely filled notebook.

"I’ll tell you, Mr Monroe. He’s a tough guy to follow. Slippery bastard. Walks into buildings and never walks out. One minute he's beside you and the next he’s halfway down the street. It's the only reason it’s taken this long. I still have no idea where he lives. But he seems to have one reliable pattern."

The investigator flicks through a folder of images. The man is seen strolling into and out of the same apartment block from different angles.

“He seems to go there most Tuesdays, Thursdays and sometimes Monday. He walks in before eight PM and leaves before midnight at the latest. I’ve isolated a specific apartment." 

He hands a folded post-it note to his client and continues. 

“If we want more information on him, I think that’s where we’ll find it.”

Mike ponders.

“I’ll take it from here.”

 Before you left for lunch, you were able to renew one of Charlie's apparently 'no hope' clients, (a firm called Granger Roberts). You’d found the key stakeholder, Mimi, extremely open to your sales patter. From her tone, her problem had been with Charlie himself rather than the company's offerings. Through subtle implicature, you were able to express your own attitude towards him and you'd hit it off extremely quickly.

After that single conversation, you'd been able to persuade her to renew her contract and had a meeting set up with her to discuss a possible move to a higher level of service. When the confirmatory email came through, Joe had paid a visit to your desk and congratulated you while Charlie looked on, trying to look as if he were proud of your 'progress' rather than seething at your success.

Settling back to work after your lunch break, your satisfied glow is interrupted when Christine comes back from the office door holding a bouquet of flowers.

“Delivery for you!” her eyes twinkle, “They said there wasn’t a card but they’re beautiful. Secret admirer?”

“It must be,” you smile, taking the flowers from her. 

They are beautiful. It’s a modestly sized bunch but the purple hyacinth, bright white roses and tulips are perfectly arranged. 

A few other people comment as you place the flowers on your desk, still wrapped in their own vase. It seems like Five is determined to replace everything he broke last night. Attracted by a slight commotion in which he is not the center of attention, Charlie sidles over, ever ready to ruin a good thing.

“Pretty tragic,” he says, in that joke-but-not-a-joke tone that makes you want to punch him through a wall, “sending yourself flowers.” 

He laughs and smiles as if to say ‘just banter’.

Your messaging app pings. It's Christine:

Just ignore the dickhead.

You smile over at her. 

Flowers under your arm, you get in the elevator at five-fifteen. Just as the doors have nearly closed, a hand shoots through the gap and they reopen to allow Charlie to enter.

“Hi.” he says, stepping in beside you and re-pressing the first floor button. You offer him a polite smile. As the elevator hums and descends, he says:

“Nice job with Granger Roberts.”

“Thanks,” you say, shortly.

After a few seconds, he speaks again:

“You know. I’ve got nothing better to do tonight. I could take you out.”

You suppress a derisive snort: “No thanks.”

“You're not my usual type but I wouldn’t be ashamed to have you on my arm.”

You scoff in disbelief. Is he negging you? What is this, 2016?

“Honestly, I’d rather pluck out my own eyeballs.”

He laughs incredulously as the doors pull open and you stalk out, trying to put as much distance as possible in between you and him.

As you march across the parking lot, you nearly fall when you crash straight into Five as he steps out from behind a parked car. He instinctively reaches out to steady you. 

“Hi.”

“Hi...sorry.” you reply, unsure what else to say.

He’s neat and tidy again. A clean suit, tie and hair immaculate. He’s wearing cologne. He nods at the flowers,

“Do you like them?”

“Y-yes,” you falter slightly.

"The language of flowers”, he explains, trying to inhabit his usual confidence but clearly wrongfooted, “it’s one of those stupid things our Dad made us learn...but I brought this too,” he holds out a wrapped red rose with a half shrug, “the meaning's a little more self-explanatory.”

Your eyes move from the rose to his. They're embarrassed, as vulnerable as they were last night. The hand not held out to you is deep in his jacket pocket. He looks uneasy but oddly determined. As you take it, he opens his mouth to speak.

“More flowers?” comes Charlie’s mocking voice, forestalling Five as he catches up to you. “Aren’t you the lucky girl?” With a look at Five, he winks: “What did you do wrong?”

“Fuck off Charlie”, you say, with emphasis, “I won’t tell you again.”

He laughs, coming to a stop and sizing up Five, who reciprocates, moving towards him casually, slightly hip-shot. He surveys Charlie as if discovering an unpleasant but pathetic-looking insect under a rock. Charlie glances back at you, mocking smile still in place.

“Never had you down as a cougar.”

Before you can respond, Five does it for you, voice deceptively light.

“She told you to fuck off,” though he doesn’t quite square up, he’s clearly ready for however this might turn, body angled to block Charlie's view of you, “I’d suggest you listen to her.”

Charlie just laughs, “Why so defensive, kid? Can't get pussy your own age?”

You know what’s coming. In a fluid, lightning-fast movement, Five's right elbow pulls back and swipes Charlie squarely across the face, knocking him off his feet in the direction of the blow's momentum. On the ground now, he howls with pain and holds his head. You shouldn't be enjoying this.

“My n-nose! My fucking nose!”

Five turns to you, sweeping at his jacket sleeve to dab a fleck of Charlie’s blood from the forearm. He holds out his other arm. Without thinking, you take it and he leads you away, leaving Charlie to writhe.

After a few minutes’ leisurely walk, Five says, “You gave me a lot to think about. May I take you to dinner?”

“It’s Friday,” you say, weakly.

“Yes but, assuming you’re not busy, I was hoping to talk.”

He takes you to a rooftop bar and restaurant in the city. He hasn’t made a reservation, but the concierge, greeting Five with a hearty handshake and a slap on the forearm, promises to fit him in within thirty minutes.This, only a couple of weeks before Christmas, seems like a real favor.

You go to wait in the bar and Five exchanges a friendly nod with the bartender as he pulls out a chair for you. The restaurant is sleek and modern, but not ostentatious. From what you could see on tables as you passed, the food appears good quality: presented nicely but without the smears and garnishings that denote haute cuisine.

Five insists you try the Bordeaux, though he himself sticks to seltzer water throughout the evening. Although he’s clearly still staving off the effects of a monster hangover, he’s attentive, charming and an excellent conversation partner. He’s effortlessly suave; in contrast to last night, his hair sits perfectly in place.

The Bordeaux really is good.

“How do you know so much about picking wine? Didn’t you spend most of your life scavenging canned food?”

“Glad you asked,” he smiles, idly running his index finger around the rim of his glass, “One of the only things to survive an apocalypse? Cellars. And what do you put in a wine cellar? Only the best wine.”

He chuckles reminiscently, “Last night was nothing. We used to drink our way through magnums of the stuff.”

At this passing reference to Dolores, he looks down before abruptly changing the subject.

“So, back in the parking lot, whose nose did I break?”

You regale him with stories about Charlie; his general chauvinism,  infuriating attitude and particularly about his antics offloading his clients today.

“So, essentially, I’m stuck with four more clients with about three months left to get them to renew after they’ve already got sick of Charlie.”

“You renewed one though? Not bad for a couple of hours of work. Do you like your job? You seem good at it.”

“Yeah, I like it well enough. I’m good at persuading people.” 

Five grins here, as if he knows all too well what you’re talking about. 

“It sometimes feels a little empty though. Working for ‘the man’, you know?”

He nods. “Tell me about it. A bureaucratic nightmare?"

“More overly corporate. There are nice people there, don’t misunderstand me, but there’s so much backstabbing and little bits of sex-discrimination that get pushed under the rug.”

He tilts his head and raises a brow, inviting elaboration.

You tell him about the conversation in the elevator and he laughs disbelievingly, shaking his head.

“Want me to go back Monday and break his teeth too?” 

As your laughter subsides, he becomes thoughtful. Staring into his glass, he says: “I guess I’ve treated you worse."

You stare at your glass too. You can’t lie to him. You can maybe forgive, but forgetting isn’t within your power.

“Maybe…but at least you know what to do with a clitoris. I wouldn’t trust Charlie to know where it is.”

He smiles but then his mind seems to drift. Absent-mindedly, he removes his jacket. When he resumes speaking, he seems to be on a different train of thought.

“I was…so young. And I knew nothing. Hey, maybe I still don’t. We were home-schooled. That mad old bastard taught me all the quickest ways to kill a woman before I even started noticing them. Can you imagine coming out of that with typical sexual pathology?”

Honestly, you can’t. He leans forward, raising his eyes but lowering his voice.

“For the first few years on my own, I was obsessed. Going through puberty the first time with nobody. No first kiss, no prom night. It was just Dolores and that was before she started talking to me properly.

We lived in a library that was mostly still there. I read anything about sex that I could get my hands on. Everything I could get, thinking about how it would feel to touch a real woman or anyone ever again. It got to the point where I was cross-referencing erotica and old cosmos with medical journals to work out what would actually turn a woman on. It was all I did. If it’s been written about sex pre 2019, I’ve studied it and probably jerked off over it.”

He shakes off some of his intensity, laughs and gives a self-effacing smile.

“But Dolores…she loved romance. One of the first things she recommended was Anna Karenina. It pulled me out of my rut... She always knew what I needed and when. I’ve always loved reading, but romance…I guess it was such a different world from the one I was trapped in.”

He smiles guiltily and checks his watch.

“Our table should be ready soon. If you still want to eat with me? After…that?”

You smile, “Of course I do.”

After you’re seated with food ordered, Five loosens his tie and clears his throat. He reaches for the small basket on your table and grabs a seeded bread roll. Holding it tight, he takes a deep breath.

“After everything that happened, I don’t expect you to want to see me again. Tonight? Just something better to remember me by.”

He doesn’t meet your eye but seems otherwise calm and confident. Only his hands betray great tension. He shreds the bread roll compulsively, crumbs falling onto his side plate.

“Is that what you want?” you ask, full of trembling energy.

“It’s probably for the best,” he says, quietly.. 

“But is it what you want?” you push. 

There was something in his voice: a fraction of regret. You watch him now, as he seeks out a sunflower seed with his nails and rolls it between his fingers for a moment. 

“No.” he murmurs, at last. 

You stifle a sigh of relief. Neither do you; despite everything. As he continues to decimate the bread roll, you decide:

“Then things have to change,” he looks up, face registering vague surprise, “first off, you need to leave that bread alone. It’s suffered enough.”

He drops it on the side plate, brushing off his hands and flashing a self-conscious smile. As he shifts in his seat and fully meets your eyes, you continue to take the reins.

“Like I said last night, I need more intimacy afterwards.”

“And I’d like to give that to you.”

“-And if you ever make me feel physically threatened again, like last night or when we met, I never want to see you again. No more chances.”

He nods eagerly, “Agreed."

“If you can promise never to make me regret this," you look into his face, hoping you convey your firmness, "then we can carry on pretty much as before.”

Five eyes the bread roll again and makes another attempt at cockiness.

“One problem. I don’t think I can go on as before.”

You wait.

“I think I want more.”

He meets your gaze again. His eyes are especially emerald and clear tonight. 

“It's a real bitch, but it turns out I can’t just fuck you without developing feelings," he looks at you softly and reaches his hand across the table. Tentatively, you extend yours and he covers it with his own.  "I guess I freaked out last night because part of me knew but didn't want to accept it. I can’t pretend I can bring much to a... relationship -you know what I am- but I can promise to listen to you and learn.”

At this point, your appetizers arrive, clearly to Five’s annoyance. The server seems to take forever. Five tries, with strained politeness, to dismiss him as quickly as possible. After he finally leaves, you say:

"What about Dolores?"

He sighs, "I got two ways of thinking on it. First, you were kind of right. She didn't challenge me like a real woman could and…continuing to stay faithful to her, especially when I've lost her, is just...it's just hiding from real life."

He takes a sip of his drink, steadying himself,  "And second, I think that plenty of people move on after having long relationships. It doesn't make what we had any lesser. She'd want me to be happy."

He swipes at his head, sweeping at neat hair that isn't in his eyes.

You nod your understanding before continuing, still in slight disbelief.

“So..." you begin, fingering your fork nervously, "what would this look like?”

“More like…this,” he says, gesturing between the two of you. “if you want. Dates, romance, exclusivity, just hanging out. You know, properly courting.”

You stop, the first forkful of food part way to your mouth.

“…courting?”

Immediately, he clamors to take the word back but you talk over him, laughing hard.

“Well, who knew I had the honor of fingerblasting Miss Jane Austen herself?”

He stops talking. One eyebrow raises. Then he smiles. And now he laughs, at first in contained barks and then fully. Soon he's leaning back in the chair, reddening face screwed into painful lines. It wasn’t the funniest joke, but it broke the tension and he’s laughing harder than you’ve ever seen him. This is surely him at his cutest and your heart swells. His helpless laughter is infectious and now you laugh because he can’t stop.

You’re starting to attract the attention of other diners. With difficulty,  you gain control of yourselves and subside into sniggers.

After dinner, you’re out on the street. He holds the bouquet and you the rose. His other arm is draped comfortably around your waist.

He leans his head into yours, “Are you sure about this? I don’t think I would be in your position.”

“Maybe you don’t give people enough credit.”

“Perhaps.”

He stops, guiding you to the inner sidewalk. He tucks the bouquet under his arm, brings one hand fully to your cheek and the other to your neck, fingers on your chin and jaw.

"Can I kiss you?" he murmurs.

You nod. 

He brings his face towards you until you can see his every eyelash. His smallest finger traces over your lips. It gives you an unexpected frisson. There's no cockiness or cynicism now; only earnestness. His lips part and he sighs as he brings his lips to yours. At first, they're dry but, as his tension breaks, they become soft with your shared tenderness. The kiss is chaste, his hunger there, but controlled. It's not like any other he's given you. He's not possessing you, or trying to take you, he's cherishing. 

Breaking the kiss, he leans his forehead against yours, eyes still closed. When he speaks, his voice is just above a whisper.

“I think we should say goodbye for tonight.”

"No. Come home with me.”

"God, I want to..."

"Then do."

He takes a few moments, his cheek turning to rub yours.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

"Then my place is nearer.”

He takes your hand and leads you away.

Tag list: (lmk if you want to join) @dilfjohhny , @sunsunhe, @w4stedtr4sh,@nevbrooke-555

Masterpost

Alternatively, join me on A03.  Here is a link to the whole series

[micanomancy]

Everyone is saying Martyn’s win was anticlimactic but like…. No it wasn’t. At least I don’t think so.

Out of character, Martyn played the game perfectly, with an emphasis on fun and content. Every season the Lifers try something new; new allies, new events, new games, new endings.

It’s the fourth season, so some things have already been done. Everyone complaining about how we didn’t get a fair fist fight between Scott, Martyn and Impulse—we already got that with Scar and Grian in Third Life. We’ve gotten the massive battle in Last Life, and we’ve gotten the heartfelt sacrifice in Double Life.

Y’know what we hadn’t gotten until Limited Life? An abrupt, sudden ending with no heartfelt speeches.

Martyn is arguably the first person to play a Red Life “correctly”—(now don’t get me wrong I LOVE the cinematic, heartfelt endings. I’m a BIG FAN)—with the last few people standing. There’s no friendships, there’s no alliances or trust or loyalty. Grian and Scar broke that rule in Third Life, and it seems as though everyone followed suit. Even Scott was screaming “I’m sorry I’m sorry” as he chased down and killed Ren in Last Life. Martyn took the concept of a hostile Red Name and turned into a bloodthirsty mania in the end!

I think the people who are saying it was an anticlimactic ending just haven’t thought of the implications, or are butthurt that we didn’t get a sob story end /lh. We’ve been spoiled, I admit.

Regardless everyone is entitled to their own opinion and this is ALL LIGHT HEARTED I am just brainrotting SO HARD. If anyone has anything to add or whatever go ahead, I might have missed examples of things for either side of the argument!

[ghostfaceaddams]

a message

Part One

summary: Dinah gets a call that could change both her and Helena's lives.

warnings: cussing, violence, blood, fighting, and death.

word count: 9,108

Having a corporation such as the Justice League made it difficult to find work for other free agent heroes and vigilantes. They were always signing the big deals and catching the big fish. All Helena was left with were low lifers; pocket thieves and run of the mill bank robbers.

But Helena had to make do with what she had. She learned that the hard way growing up.

She grunted as the crook elbowed her in the face. He took his chance and elbowed her in the stomach as well and stomped on her foot. While she doubled over he took off down the alley.

‘Damn Helena, you’re out of shape. There’s no reason why a petty thief should get the drop on you.’

She allowed herself a few more seconds to compose herself knowing that she would need all the strength she could muster to chase after him.

“You’re just going to let him get away?” A smooth voice said from behind her.

Helena groaned and swiveled around.

“I have this under control Canary. Besides, this is my domain. Why don’t you just go back to that tin-can in the sky and wait for Luthor or a other worldly threat make their move.” Helena fired back.

Black Canary’s blue eyes danced with mirth as she leaned back against the street lamp. She was in her usual work attire and had her hair down in its natural waves. Her arms were crossed loosely and her body hung against the street lamp. She was enjoying seeing Huntress’ baddie escape.

“Woah. Someone’s grumpy. Did you not get enough sleep?” Canary smirked mischievously.

“Oh you know I didn’t.” Helena grinned.

Helena’s thief was forgotten about as she stared at Dinah’s luminous form. With her gold hair and the street light directly above her, she looked like an angel. But Helena knew that later, at Helena’s apartment, Dinah would be anything but angelic.

Dinah raised a perfectly sculptured eyebrow and smiled warmly. “He’s getting away.”

Helena mentally scolded herself for getting caught up in the warm, fluttery feelings Dinah gave her.

“Right.” She smiled sheepishly and took off in pursuit of her bad guy.

She used her grapple to get to the top of a building for a birds eye view. After darting across three buildings she saw him leaning against a slanted wooden fence. He was clearly out of breath and thought he was in the clear. She smirked and jumped down onto the fire escape.

The man jumped and looked ready to take off down the gravel road. But Helena was quicker; she jumped from the fire escape and landed a kick to his chest. He fell back into the fence and started sliding down it. Helena did a roundhouse kick to his face that propelled him into the group of trashcans to the side. And just like that he was out.

Mission accomplished.

————————————

“What’d that guy do anyway?”

Dinah’s breath was warm against the valley of Helena’s breasts sending shivers down her spine. Helena squirmed and readjusted her hold around Dinah’s waist. It took her a moment to realize who her partner was referring to.

“He stole a car.”

Dinah snickered and raised her head. It strained Helena’s neck and eyes to glance down at the grinning woman.

“You let a car thief get away?”

Helena smiled and slid a leg between Dinah’s. The blonde didn’t break her gaze with the brunette nor did her smile waver, but she did start brushing her foot up Helena’s leg.

“I got distracted by a pretty girl.”

“Mmm. And what would your girlfriend think of this girl Miss Bertinelli?” Dinah started creeping two fingers up Helena’s chest like a stick figure.

Helena watched the movement of her partners fingers for a few seconds before responding. “I think she’d approve of her. They’re really a lot alike.”

“Oh is that right?” Dinah inched closer.

“Definitely. Both are blonde, both are incredibly sexy, both have beautiful smiles.”

Dinah smiled so wide that her dimples popped. Helena’s predatory smile turned genuine at the new display of dimples. She reached one hand out to press her thumb into the left indentation.

“Don’t let me stop you.”

“I’m starting to think you only keep me around to boost your ego.” Helena dropped her hand back to the small of Dinah’s back and cocked her head to the side.

Dinah pressed her hands flat down on Helena’s chest, her right hand feeling the beat of Helena’s slightly erratic heartbeat. The brunette started to massage the blonde’s back not so innocently.

“It’s not the only reason.” Dinah smiled teasingly but it soon faltered. Her crystal blue eyes fell down to Helena’s lips. “You make me happy.”

As long as Helena had been together with Dinah, the blonde showing any sort of vulnerability with Helena made her feel like a deer in headlights.

It wasn’t long after Darkseid tried to take over Earth that it started. Life on the streets was beginning to take a toll on Helena and Q was too devoted to his conspiracy theories. They simply grew apart. Ollie and Dinah was another story though.

Dinah started popping up all over town on Helena’s rounds. The first time she chalked it up to coincidence, but then Dinah showed up a second time, and then a third, and again and again. Soon enough they were practically partners. After that they started to hang out at Helena’s place after taking down bad guys together. It was nice to have someone to talk to other than Q and his crypticness.

One night, instead of going to Helena’s place they went to the bar. As two young adults would do after being highly intoxicated, they had sex. Helena pretty much avoided Dinah like the plague after that. The first week Dinah didn’t even make an attempt to see Helena so she figured the blonde felt the same. But then she started showing up again. Helena’s willpower could only hold so long around Dinah until she finally just caved.

They started casually sleeping around. This went on for a few months until Dinah started staying the night after their nightly activities. It finally occurred to Helena that she didn’t know the status of Dinah and Ollie’s relationship. While she didn’t want to be a part of an affair, she wasn’t sure she could handle knowing Dinah wasn’t all hers.

“We broke up.”

“You broke up? When? How come I never heard about this?”

“Because you aren’t friends with any of the leaguers and Q isn’t a gossiper.”

“Helena. Do you really think I would’ve been sleeping with you this whole time if I was with Ollie?”

After that they were an official couple. Dinah Lance and Helena Bertinelli. (Of course, Black Canary and Huntress weren’t an item. But that was a whole other issue.) That started about a year ago.

It wasn’t like their relationship was purely physical. They went out on dates and hung out at home without having sex. Every Saturday Dinah got up with Helena to watch cartoons. (It has something to do with Helena’s shattered childhood. Watching cartoons helps to bring some semblance of normality to her demented past.) Helena goes to the grocery store down the street from Dinah’s apartment to help her shop. They train and go on walks together. (“We look like old people.” “Stop complaining and just enjoy the view Helena.” “It’s a city Dine, kinda hard to enjoy the view.” “Then just hold my hand.”)

There were other things they did together. They would talk too, but it was always so nerving. Helena was getting better at it but it was still hard. A year into their relationship and five years of knowing each other and Helena still short circuited when it came to the serious stuff.

“Geez Dinah, you’re such a sap.” Helena felt like Chandler Bing with jokes as her default for uncomfortable situations.

Bless Dinah’s heart, she had gotten accustomed to Helena’s deflection. She learned to feed off of it and knew when to not push Helena and what to say when she did. The blonde put a knee on either side of Helena’s right leg to lean up and kiss Helena. The brunette’s eyes fluttered close as she melted into the kiss.

Slowly Dinah pulled away, both of their lips glistening. Helena kept her eyes closed, enjoying the blissfulness. Dinah’s eyes were hooded as she brushed her thumb against Helena’s elegant cheekbone.

“You don’t have to say it. I know that I make you happy too.” Dinah said quietly, so quietly it was almost a whisper.

Helena ever so slightly quirked her lips up in a thankful smile.

“Maybe you’re the martian with all your mind reading abilities.” Helena couldn’t help but tease.

Dinah snorted and placed a sweet kiss on Helena’s lips. The brunette sighed and allowed Dinah to take control of her.

It scared Helena-no terrified Helena, it scared the ever loving SHIT out of Helena how well Dinah knew her and how easily she could take control. Helena grew attached to people quickly and despite their easy breakup, it tore Helena up losing Q. Dinah was closer than ever and meant more to Helena than anyone else. Helena had no one. Literally no one else. Dinah was it. She knew everything about the orphan and could read her like a children’s book.

If Helena lost Dinah…she didn’t like to think like that but she did…too much.

——————————————

The bed was cold when Helena woke up later that night. She glanced at the clock on her nightstand and groaned when she saw the time.

3:15 am.

She considered going back to sleep but like a damn fool she had become accustomed to sleeping with Dinah. So she sat up in bed and did a quick scan of her studio apartment for the blonde.

Dinah was standing in the kitchen leaning against the island. She had slipped on a blue t-shirt of Helena’s and was in her black underwear. She looked ready for bed but her body was tense. Helena could see the tension all over Dinah’s back.

“Di?” She sleepily called out.

Dinah quickly looked back at Helena then turned back around. Helena frowned and realized that the blonde was talking. She couldn’t see a phone so she knew it must be Justice League related. She got out of bed and padded over to her girlfriend.

“What’s wrong?” Helena asked after Dinah hung up.

It must’ve been bad because Dinah couldn’t even look at Helena. The brunette shifted her weight from foot to foot the longer they were in silence.

“Dinah what’s going on?” Helena’s voice was high pitched and light as she smiled incredulously.

It felt like a year went by as Dinah raised her head to look at Helena. The moment Helena saw Dinah’s unsteady eyes she knew that whatever happened wasn’t just bad but abhorrent.

“Mandragora escaped.”

The floor seemed to give away beneath Helena as she heard those two words. They were words she had expected to hear time and time again. Every day that beast was locked up she expected to see a news broadcast at night about him escaping. But it being a reality was different from nightmares.

It felt like the walls were caving in on Helena and blinding her vision. There wasn’t red or white with rage, it was all just black. Pure, sheer, utter black.

“Oh.” Was all Helena could think to say.

All these emotions, all these thoughts and feelings, and all Helena could think to say was oh. She numbly sat down in the island chair and stared off at nothing.

“He…he killed two guards escaping and there are said to be many injuries to others. They lost his trail but he’s easy to stick out so he won’t be hard to find. Helena?”

Helena was vaguely aware of what Dinah was saying. The only words that made sense to her were “killed two guards” and “many injuries.” The rest was all foreign. With the words she did know, she knew what she had to do. She knew what had to be done and only she could be the one to get it done. It had to be her. It had to be. No one else could-or would do it.

“Yeah?” Helena kept staring ahead.

She felt like the whole world was spinning and she was outside above it all. She was on a whole other level than the rest of humanity.

“Are you okay?”

It slowly dawned on Helena that she wasn’t alone. She glanced down at the floor beneath her feet and quickly up at Dinah, so quickly she barely even caught a glimpse. Her throat felt thick as she realized what she had to do.

“I just need to be alone.”

Dinah didn’t speak right away and Helena knew that it was Dinah debating whether or not this was a time to push Helena.

“I don’t think you should be alone right now.”

“I’m sorry but I don’t really give a shit what you think Dinah.” Helena’s tone was quick and sharp like a whip.

Dinah looked like she had just been slapped and Helena couldn’t stand to look at it. She swallowed and kept her gaze forward.

“I don’t want you doing something stupid Helena.” Dinah planted her hand on the marble island and leaned closer to the conflicted hero.

“Like what?” Helena snapped her head over to look at Dinah.

The blonde parted her lips but no sound came out. She didn’t need to talk for Helena to know what she was thinking, it was all over her face. It was the way her eyes were no longer bright like the sky but dark like the sea. It was how tight her mouth was and the darting of her eyes. Helena knew they were thinking about the same night five years ago.

“Like kill Mandragora?” Helena’s voice cut like a knife on the second word sending Dinah recoiling back. “I never should’ve let that kid sucker me into letting his dad go.”

Helena shook her head, the answer suddenly spewing out of her in fumes. She was sure that if this was one of her Saturday cartoons, steam would be coming out of her ears and her face would be red.

“You did the right thing that night Helena.”

“Yeah and look where it got those guards.” Helena sneered.

Her entire body was tense with indignation as she breathed quickly.

“Those deaths aren’t on you.” Dinah’s voice was firmer than concrete but Helena knew that nothing was indestructible. (Not even Superman.)

Helena simply scoffed.

They both stayed in their respective spots in taught silence for several minutes. After almost 15 minutes Helena stood up. Dinah quickly straightened up and looked into Helena’s dark brown eyes that were practically black pits now.

“I want you to leave.”

She could practically hear Dinah’s heart cracking.

“But Helena-“

“I don’t need you to babysit me and I don’t want your company so just leave.” Her voice was harsh but she knew it needed to be done.

Dinah stood there staring at Helena in contempt. It was obvious that emotionally Dinah wanted to stay and be there for Helena for whatever she needed, and rationally she wanted to make sure Helena didn’t try to be judge jury executioner. But Dinah also knew that if she stayed she could potentially make matters worse.

Helena knew how Dinah’s mind worked just as well as Dinah did Helena’s.

Finally Dinah sighed and her still tense shoulders sagged. “I’ll just be outside if you need me.”

“I won’t but thanks.” Helena knew that was uncalled for but she couldn’t help it.

Dinah frowned like it was physically paining her to see Helena like this. Hell, Helena was sure it did physically pain her because she definitely felt that way about having to push Dinah away.

The blonde moved passed Helena to change back into her clothes. When she was done she stopped and hesitantly kissed Helena on the cheek. It was soft and felt like the one thing that could ground Helena to any sense of rationality.

But then Dinah left and all rationality went out the door with her.

————————————————

Dinah returned the next day to check on Helena. She was surprised to see her home but not surprised to see her already in her outfit. It didn’t take a genius to know what Helena was about to do.

Helena looked up from securing her utility belt on and her eyes softened. What was about to come next made her stomach churn violently. She was starting to think she wouldn’t be able to do this.

“Dinah, we need to talk.”

Dinah was all too eager to talk with Helena and the brunette hated it. A part of her pitied Dinah for thinking that she actually had a chance at changing Helena’s mind.

“Okay. What’re you thinking?”

Helena paused. She counted to ten and then answered.

“I’m thinking that we should break up.”

Dinah didn’t answer right away and Helena could understand why.

“Where…where is this coming from?” Helena opened her mouth so she could just rip the bandaid off but Dinah trudged on. “If you’re worried about my safety don’t because I can take care of myself.”

Helena swallowed and resisted the urge to confess that yes she was scared that Mandragora would try to get revenge on her by taking away the only thing she had left.

“It’s not that.”

Dinah’s bewildered expression about made Helena scratch the whole idea and say that it was exactly that. But Helena had to remind herself that it was better this way. Safer. Easier. Dinah would just be a distraction and she couldn’t have that.

“I’m just tired of this whole dating thing.”

Instead of hurt on Dinah’s face there was anger. Helena was relieved it was anger and not pain. Anger she could handle, she could be just as mean back. Pain? No way.

“Dating thing? That’s-that’s what you call this? That’s what you call this thing between us?”

Helena sighed as if this conversation was boring the ever loving shit out of her. “I’m not a relationship person Dinah. I usually just sleep around, I don’t know what I was thinking with you and Q. But it’s over. You won’t be in harms way of Mandragora and I won’t have to deal with a girlfriend.”

She was being heartless she knew but being heartless was the only option in this situation.

“No.”

Helena frowned. That wasn’t what she was expecting. Some crying and maybe even screaming but not no.

“No?”

“No. We’re not breaking up.” Dinah shook her head in finality.

Helena scoffed. “Come on Dinah, lets be adults about this.”

“I know what you’re trying to do and it’s not going to work.” Dinah raised her voice.

“And what’s that?” Helena’s voice was venomous.

She looked down and realized how close her and Dinah had gotten.

“You’re scared I’m going to get hurt so you’re pushing me away before you can lose me.”

Helena grunted and pulled away. “We’ve been through this already, I’m just tired of you. You being out of Mandragora’s way is just a bonus.”

That’s what did it. The moment Helena said she was tired of Dinah she saw Dinah completely crumble. All the anger in her body just fizzed out like a fire. Her shoulders sagged and her jaw fell. The worst of all was how big her eyes got. Helena could barely stand to look at how crushed Dinah was. But she knew to be able to sell this she needed to keep a straight, unwavering face.

A minute passed and Helena thought that Dinah would finally leave but she was thrown for a loop.

“I’m not leaving.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because I’m in love you with you Helena.”

Helena’s lips parted and her eyes widened.

Love. It was such a foreign concept to Helena. It had been so long since she last knew what being loved felt like, she wasn’t sure she could know what it felt like ever again. She had never felt love for anyone other than her parents, not even Q. So she had no idea if what Dinah said was true.

Was she even capable of love? The two people that did, ended up dying. Hell, not even long after being with Q, CADMUS kidnapped and tortured him. Helena was sure that she was destined to lose everyone she ever cared about. It reminded her that it was better to break things off now with Dinah before things went further.

Except they already had. Dinah said she loved Helena. ‘Doesn’t matter.’ Helena had a plan and she was sticking to it-now more than ever. Even if Helena was capable of love-if Dinah really did love her and Helena loved her back, it didn’t matter anymore. It was too late.

“Then you’re an even bigger fool than I ever thought.”

Dinah frowned and she collapsed even further into herself. Helena turned as if she was disgusted by Dinah which some part of her actually was. How could someone like Dinah possibly feel love for someone like Helena? It was wrong.

“Lena, don’t.”

“Go. Get out of here Dinah. Now!”

Dinah’s crystal blue eyes were shining and at any moment the dam would break and the tears would start cascading down. Helena didn’t want to be there for when that happened. She knew how stubborn Dinah was and decided to take matters into her own hands.

She left instead.

————————————————

Oliver was at his range just as Dinah had predicted. She was relieved that he was at the first place she looked so she wouldn’t have to waste time looking for him. Time that could be spent finding Helena and stopping her.

“To what do I owe this visit?” Oliver asked as he sheathed an arrow he was getting ready to pull out.

Dinah hated asking him for help but he was the only person she could trust. (Well, she could trust Helena too but this “mission” was about Helena so that ruled her out obviously.)

When she sighed it felt like her entire body was deflating. “I need a favor.”

“This sounds familiar.” Ollie teased.

Dinah grimaced as she prepared for what she was going to say next. “You heard about Mandragora’s escape right?”

Oliver frowned and crossed his arms. She could see the gears already turning behind his warm brown eyes.

“I did.” He looked down and shifted his weight. Dinah could see how uncomfortable he felt with what he was about to say. “Let me guess, Helena didn’t take it so well.”

“That’s an understatement.” Dinah muttered.

Dinah wished she could’ve convinced Helena not to leave because now she’s out there looking for Mandragora. If she had kept Helena there then maybe they could’ve talked things through. But when had Helena ever been someone to sit back and talk through things.

“I understand if you don’t want to help, but I need to find Helena and stop her before she does something she’ll regret. And we can’t get the league involved.” Dinah wanted to make sure Oliver knew what he was getting himself into if he helped her.

Oliver scratched his head. “This feels like deja vu.”

Dinah chuckled as memories of that night nearly five years ago came flooding back to her. Gosh Helena had been so infuriating that night. Actually, Helena was pretty infuriating in general. But once you got past all of that she was a lot of fun to be around and a good person. She fought to keep people safe, that was a good person right? Sure she was a little annoying but she wasn’t a bitch.

Who knew that Dinah would’ve gotten to know the actual Helena Bertinelli and they would be here. When Dinah thinks about it, like really thinks about it, there was always something there between her and Helena. That whole night Dinah and Oliver hunted down Question and Helena who were hunting down Mandragora, Dinah would feel this spark inside of her. She had thought at the time it was just the spark of the mission. Turns out it was more than that.

They had come so far. Dinah was in too deep with Helena. She was in fucking love with Helena. She only wished that Helena would listen to her and know that she didn’t have to be alone. She didn’t need to do this alone.

“So you want your ex boyfriend to help you find your girlfriend so she won’t kill a killer? Am I understanding this right?”

Dinah looked down at her boots and bit her tongue. She still didn’t believe that they were broken up. Helena only broke up with her so she wouldn’t get hurt, everything else she said was bullshit. When Helena got scared she pushed people away and acted like a cold hearted bitch. Everything she said she didn’t mean. She didn’t want to break up and Dinah sure as hell didn’t.

Helena could say they were broken up and act like they were broken up so she could think clearly but they were still together.

“Girlfriend status is to be determined.” Dinah settled on saying.

Oliver furrowed his eyebrows and after a beat shook his head. “Come again?”

Dinah huffed. She really wasn’t in the mood to discuss her relationship status with her ex boyfriend. She wanted to know if she had someone who would help her find and stop Helena.

“Are you in or out?”

Oliver must’ve sensed the urgency and Dinah not wanting to talk because his face softened and his back straightened. “I’m in.”

Dinah nodded her head. “Okay. Lets go.”

Dinah prayed that they found Helena in time.

————————————

“Gah! I already told you I don’t know anything!”

Helena jerked the guy closer by his shirt so their faces were only inches apart and scowled. He looked to be only in his late 20’s, early 30’s at most. His black hair was messed up from his scuffle with Helena and his brown eyes were full of sheer terror.

“Bullshit. I know you used to be a part of Mandragora’s security team. If Mandragora’s out, he’s going to be looking for exactly that. You have ties to what he wants. So spill.” She shook him for emphasis.

He cowered back as much as he could with the boxes behind him. His face was screwed up with sweat running down his forehead.

“I-I-I got out of that life. I’m not a part of it anymore. I have a job at the sports store down the street.”

“Save your new life speech for the cops, I don’t give a shit. Tell me where Mandragora is and I’ll leave you alone.”

“You think I believe that? You’ll kill me!”

“The only person I want to kill is Mandragora.” Helena narrowed her eyes at him.

The man scuffed his feet back but they only hit more hardwood boxes. “You crazy? He could squash like you a bug.”

Flashes of Mandragora ripping apart her parents came to mind. She blinked twice and masked her trauma with a scowl. She tightened her hold on the mans shirt and brought him even closer.

“Let me worry about my safety. Now, where is he?”

The man was trembling in Helena’s hands and she couldn’t tell who he was more afraid of, Mandragora or her. She needed it to be the latter.

Helena threw the man down the length of the warehouse causing him to crash into a table. Before he could get up she used her grapel to hit some boxes up top and crash down on him. He screamed out in pain as two heavy boxes crushed him. He squirmed underneath its weight and clung at the concrete, his nails chipping.

Helena kneeled down in front of him and flung her bow staff up against his throat. Immediately he started choking, his gargles filling the tense air.

“Mandragora can squash you like a bug and make it quick. I on the other hand can make your death very slow and very painful.” Helena slightly applied pressure to prove her point.

His hands flailed around aimlessly as he struggled to breathe. Helena kept her staff pressed against his throat for a few more seconds before allowing him a chance to speak. He immediately collapsed forward against the broken boxes and coughed. Due to his position he couldn’t massage his throat which made it take longer for him to compose himself.

“Like I said, I’m out of the life so all I hear is talk.”

“So talk.” Helena narrowed her eyes.

He swallowed hard and went back to his panting. “He’s supposed to be at some harbor, a boating dock. He’s leaving the states to be reunited with his son.”

“Which boating dock?”

He violently whipped his head back and forth. “I don’t know.”

“That’s not good enough.” Helena whipped out her hand bow and aimed it at his left hand.

He went into another frenzy as he tried to escape. “I-I-I-I don’t know I swear! I swear!”

Helena narrowed her eyes and analyzed him. His eyes had flicked to the right when he said it and his voice had escalated an octave. He was holding out on her.

Without a second thought Helena pulled the trigger. His blood curdling cries filled the empty night air.

“I’m losing my patience. Where is Mandragora?” Helena raised her hand bow again.

“Okay okay okay!” Helena slowly lowered her hand bow. The man panted a few times then licked his already soaked lips. “He’s at the Gotham boating docks.”

“How many men does he have?” Helena pressed.

“When I was involved he usually only had two. But with his escape that probably went up. My best guess is four.”

Helena sheathed her hand bow and bow staff then stood up so she was towering over him. “You’ve been most helpful.”

The first thing she did was knock him out with a single punch. Next, she pushed all of the broken boxes off of him and let him slide down to the floor. Then she took off towards Gotham Harbor.

——————————————

“The last time we faced Mandragora he was working on being reunited with his son. We should find out where Edgar is and all possible routes to him. That should tell us where Mandragora is.” Dinah typed away on her computer.

“Right. That shouldn’t take too long at all.” Oliver quipped.

Dinah stopped typing and moved around her computer so she could look at the emerald archer.

“Do you have a better way at finding Mandragora? Because if so I’m all ears.”

Oliver’s silence was response enough. Dinah turned back to her computer and focused on the task at hand. She needed to stay focus and not worry about the time or what was happening to Helena.

Dinah’s worst fear wasn’t even Helena killing Mandragora, it was Mandragora killing Helena. Her girlfriend was smart and perceptive as well as strong, but Mandragora was a literal beast. He was ten feet tall and all fat and muscle. He had superhuman strength and superhuman durability. Not to mention he was ruthless. Helena wouldn’t stand a chance against him. Dinah herself was lucky to get away with the injuries she had last time.

Helena was also fueled by rage and guilt, both of which can blind her thinking. Her fighting skills and weapons wouldn’t be enough to stop Mandragora.

Dinah shuddered at the thought.

“Dinah? You okay?”

Dinah looked up at Oliver and his concerned gaze. He reminded Dinah of a dog when it could sense its owners’ unhappiness. She smiled sadly and nodded her head.

“Yeah.” She didn’t sound all that convincing though.

“We’ll find her in time Dinah. Don’t worry.”

“I hope so Ollie.”

Dinah prayed that Oliver was right.

————————————

Helena’s informant had been right; there were four guards. Two were posted outside the limo Mandragora was residing in and two more were patrolling. Every ten minutes they would go in opposite directions, right out of sight of the two guards by the limo. All Helena had to do was pick them off with her hand bow and then attack the two guards at the limo head on.

That would only leave Mandragora.

Helena had five more minutes before the guards made their round. In those five minutes her mind wandered. She hadn’t wanted to hurt the guy back at the warehouse. Sure roughing him up a bit came with the job but choking him? Shooting him in the hand? She could still hear his cries of pain. She could still smell the blood.

She didn’t know how Batman was so comfortable with torturing people for information.

This was the right thing to do though. Five years ago she had wanted revenge on Mandragora but now it was justice. They had tried the legal way and it didn’t work. Two more people lost their lives to that monster and soon enough more would. He would always find a way to escape prison, to bend the legal system. There was nothing else to do but to put him down. Just like a dog with rabies.

The guard on the right end of the harbor caught her eye first. ‘Show time.’

Helena hopped down off her perch and ran to the right side first. She made sure no one else was around or could see, took her aim, and fired. He went down quietly.

She took off to the other end of the harbor and took out that guard the same.

She decided that having the element of surprise would be best so she waited until the two guards at the limo noticed the other two guards’ absence. Once they were ten feet away from the limo she dropped down and attacked.

As she jumped down she landed a kick to the first guard’s chest that sent him flying back into the limo. His head whacked against the window causing it to break. The next guard charged at Helena. She quickly knocked his punch aside and landed a punch of her own to his face. He stumbled back a few steps and tentatively touched his broken nose which was already oozing blood.

The guard growled and lunged back towards Helena. She side stepped him and kicked him in the back so he fell to his knees. Before she could attack again, the first guard came up behind her and wrapped his arm around her. Her arms were pinned to her sides due to the hold. During this time the second guard got up from the ground and turned back towards Helena.

She head butted the guard behind her resulting in his hold loosening. So she pushed out and twisted his left arm forward causing him to yelp. She flipped him over and he landed on top of the second guard. They were both down for the count.

There was a slow clap behind her that stopped her cold in her tracks. Her arms and neck erupted in goosebumps at the vibrations of the clap.

“Impressive. Those were some of my best men.”

Helena turned around as if she was bored. “You need better men if that’s the best you got.”

“Best I had on short notice.” He shrugged.

Helena scowled at his arrogance that was polluting the world. There he was, standing with his hands clasped behind his back and a smile in place. He looked smug, like he knew he was going to get away with his escape, which further cemented Helena’s decision. He was dressed in a red with black stripes suit that was too small in the shoulders and a few inches too short in the pant legs.

“I assume you’ve come here to put me back behind bars.”

Helena glared and angled her body slightly away from him. “Your son isn’t here to hide behind. I’ve come to do what I should’ve done five years ago.”

“So you wish to kill me. Is that it?”

Helena didn’t respond.

His laugh was cold and unsettling. It made every nerve in Helena’s body twitch and her stomach swirl. “Good luck with that my child.”

Helena gritted her teeth at the last two words. Her jaw tightened and flexed.

She attacked five seconds later. She made the mistake of running at him which led to him catching her foot in a roundhouse kick. He flung her to the side like a rag doll and crashed into a bunch of boxes. Already her body ached but she couldn’t give up that easily. She growled and got out her bow staff.

His laugh only egged her on. She charged and this time used her staff to push up off the ground and land her round house kick. His head smacked to the side. As she landed she immediately raised her staff and clobbered him under his face. His head went back so she jumped up and kneed him in the face.

Mandragora stumbled a few feet back but was otherwise unharmed.

‘Change of plans.’ Helena ran around him while he was regaining his balance and tripped him. He fell back and hit his head hard on the concrete. It was enough to leave him dazed and mumbling incoherent things.

She jumped on the hood of the limo and ran on top of the roof. She jumped down fully intending to impale him but he caught her midair. The abrupt stop by his hand caused her entire body to tighten and then go slack. He smiled as his fingers tightened around her slender neck and her eyes bulged.

Suddenly she was reminded of the man she had choked in order to be here and couldn’t think of how to get our of Mandragora’s hold. She could use her staff to break his hold on her and do a backflip but she was too deep in thought. So Mandragora ended up tossing her ten yards down the harbor.

Each time her body flopped against the concrete she could feel a bone snap or bruise. By the end of her roll her body felt like it had been put through the blender. Her groan made her chest ache. There was a ringing in her ears and she wasn’t sure if it was from her rolling or if there was permanent damage.

She could still hear though because Mandragora’s laugh from ten yards away reached her.

“You’re a fool for thinking you could defeat me. Just as your father was before I crushed his head.”

With a grunt and every bone aching, Helena got to her knees. She swayed and bent over but she wasn’t giving up. She looked up through her eyelashes and saw Mandragora grinning mercilessly. His suit jacket was torn and every button of his shirt was popped open. She could tell his head was bleeding in the back but he was walking around seemingly fine.

Slowly she got to her feet. She reached her hand to the back of her utility built and clasped her grapple. She never once took her eyes off of Mandragora and he her. With him not noticing, and as quick as a cowboy, she flung her hand out and fired her grapple. It wrapped around the car and with every bit of strength she had left, she pulled the limo on top of him.

The engine exploded and several boxes and shipping containers toppled over, a few landing in Mandragora’s vicinity. Helena collapsed back on legs and almost fell over. The only sound was the crackling fire and her erratic heartbeat.

A minute passed by with her only seeing black smoke. But then, emerging from the black smoke was a large figure. When he got out, his entire jacket was burnt to a crisp and his shirt was black. His pink eyes burned red as he ripped his shirt off and charged Helena.

Helena quickly got up and prepared herself for the punch to come. As expected Mandragora reached out to punch her but she deflected it with much effort. She twisted his hand causing his wrist to snap. He cried out in pain.

‘His wrists and ankles are vulnerable.’ It wasn’t much but it would definitely help.

She used all of her weight and strength to flip Mandragora over onto the ground. The earth rumbled from the slam and she karate chopped his stomach twice. Standing on top of him was a mistake though as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her down.

His hold was bone crushing. Every broken and bruised bone ached causing Helena to scream out in pain. It was the worst physical pain she had ever experienced and it was so intense that her mind blurred. For a few fleeting seconds she thought she was going to be crushed to death like her mom.

But then she head butted him just like she had the first guard. His grip loosened and she kicked her legs until her feet collided with his shins. He yelped and she kicked harder and harder until he released her. She sluggishly rolled to the left and crawled to her staff. Her fingers had barely touched it before Mandragora yanked her back. She could feel skin on her left side and back tear as she was pulled back.

As soon as she was in front of him she turned and whacked him in the face with her staff. She saw a tooth whiz passed his crimson lips and felt a small sense of victory. She rolled out of the way and jabbed her staff into his left shoulder. He roared in response.

His giant white hand clutched her staff and ripped it out of her hands. The force caused her to stumble forward and be smacked across the face. She felt her eyes sting and her jaw ache worse than any bar fight. She raised her right hand to her face as she groaned. Blood dribbled down her chin and splashed on the pavement.

‘I’m going to have the worst headache ever tomorrow if I make it out of this alive.’

“Why do you do this child? Do you really think you have any chance against me? Do you think your father did as he swung uselessly at me?” Mandragora grinned.

Helena remembered her father standing in front of her mother as he tried to protect her. He swung and swung and nothing happened. Finally Mandragora just grabbed him and crushed his skull. She watched her fathers brains splatter and heard her mother’s cries. Mandragora picked her up next and slowly squeezed her just so he could hear her squeal like a pig.

Helena closed her eyes and tried to forget the horrific visions. She couldn’t let him get her riled up because then she couldn’t think straight. If she couldn’t think then she was for sure dead.

“He was still a better man than you’ll ever be.” Blood dripped from her lips as she spoke.

“Your father was a crime lord, just as I am. No man is above another.” He smiled callously.

Helena gritted her sore teeth and whipped out her hand bow. She fired one at his injured wrist and then at his shoulder. He roared and she got up to get better ground. She ran several feet away and waited for him to get up. He ripped the arrows out and slowly clambered to his feet. He was frothing at the mouth as he staggered towards her.

She narrowed her eyes and fired. One arrow whizzed passed his head and two more he flicked aside. But one arrow got him right above the armpit and another got his side. He grunted and worked on taking both of them out.

Helena quickly ran forward and kicked out so she pushed the arrow further into his side. He howled and threw his head back. She barred her teeth and delivered several punches to his chest. It felt like punching a boulder and eventually she had to give up. Her hands throbbed and shook as she staggered back. She gazed in horror at her mangled hands. Her knuckles were cut from her earlier roll and they were covered in blood. Both of their blood. She realized she did do some damage to his chest.

“You’re persistent just like your father, a far better fighter than your mother and those security guards.”

“Ah!” Helena went to punch him in the chest but he caught her hand.

His smile was sinister as he tightened his hold so Helena’s bones crumbled. Helena cried out and slowly dropped to her knees. Once she was down he kicked her so she skidded back three feet.

She reached for her her hand bow but her hand was so shaky and it wasn’t even her dominant hand. She raised it and tried to fire but missed every time, even when he was standing right over her. She was able to get one last arrow off and miraculously it glided across his cheek so his face started to bleed. He grunted and stomped on the bow so it crushed. He kicked her and sent her skidding a few more feet.

All Helena could do was lay there on her side and try to breathe. Even that was a feat. Her lungs burned and her chest ached. She was sure every bone in her body was broken or at least bruised and she couldn’t move her right hand. Her left eye was blurry and some of her hair was matted down with blood.

She didn’t think she could move. She didn’t think she could live. She couldn’t do anymore.

‘I failed. I failed them all.’

All those lives lost, and what for? For Mandragora to get away with it scot-free? Children lost their fathers and some had to witness it. Families were destroyed. People were framed and tortured. So many lives were ruined all because of Mandragora and he was going to get to do it again all with his son by his side.

Helena couldn’t let him win.

She understood why the League had a no kill rule and frankly she was happy they kicked her out because she wouldn’t have been able to do this. Some people were just passed redemption. Some things needed to be put down. If Old Yeller really was John’s favorite movie then Helena hoped he understood why she was doing this.

“It’s over.” Mandragora didn’t sound happy or smug, just sure. He believed what he said.

Helena grunted and lifted her upper body. She grimaced as her muscles screamed and torn skin burned. She got to her elbows and then her knees. She was panting as she staggered to her feet. She stumbled and about fell back down but regained her footing. Mandragora watched her with such intensity the entire buildup.

“It’s not over until one of us stops breathing.”

Mandragora smiled causing his eyes to slant. Helena’s vision was blurred and sweat and blood were seeping into her eyes so she could barely see his pink eyes. But she saw the coldness all the same and knew she had it in her. She had one more trick up her sleeve.

“As you wish.”

Helena charged, as much as she could in her state, and he lumbered towards her. He easily caught her and raised her until her feet were dangling. She started gasping for air as his fingers curled tighter and tighter around her neck. She blindly searched for the dagger on her belt and prayed it didn’t come out in her many tumblings. Seconds ticked by and it became harder to move, harder to think. Black spots were invading her vision.

“Tell your father I said hi.” Mandragora smirked.

Helena struggled to breathe. Spit and phlegm flew out and coated his hand.

“F…fuck…you.” Helena gargled.

His smirk widened. Hysteria seeped into Helena’s search for the dagger.

“HELENA!”

Both Helena and Mandragora’s head jerked to the side as they saw Black Canary and Green Arrow arrive. Canary was shell shocked as she stood atop all of the rubble. Her eyes were wide and her jaw was hanging close to the ground. Her entire body was slack.

Helena’s slow heartbeat kickstarted and started ramming erratically against her bruised ribcage like a bird trying to escape its cage.

‘No. Not Dinah.’

Helena’s eyes bulged and her breathing became even more ragged as she glanced around furiously.

“More people for me to crush.” Mandragora’s grip tightened on Helena in pleasure as he gazed at the newcomers.

Helena grimaced, her eyes squeezing shut. With a gasp she grasped the dagger.

“Get away from her dirtbag!” Oliver aimed an arrow at him and released it.

It was the perfect distraction. As Mandragora moved aside to miss the arrow his grip loosened and an opening under his belly was revealed. Helena plunged the dagger out and embedded it deep within his waxy skin. Mandragora gasped and his tiny pink eyes widened.

Slowly he turned his head to face Helena. With her nostrils flaring and mouth drooling she dragged the dagger up with a shaking hand.

“It’s poisoned…you ba-astar-rd.” Helena choked.

Even if the stab wasn’t fatal the poison sure as hell would be.

Mandragora’s strength was seeping out and his grip on Helena loosened until she plummeted five feet to the ground. She was so lightheaded and her entire body throbbed so she barely felt her head connect with the ground. She coughed, blood spurting out like a water fountain. Her head lolled to the side in awe at the gimmick.

“Helena. Helena!” Dinah sounded farther away than what she really was.

Helena couldn’t move her head to find Dinah, all she could do was raise her eyebrows in acknowledgment.

Dinah gasped when she saw Helena lying on the ground. Chunks of her cape was missing and torn and bloody. The rest of her outfit was ripped and had spots of blood and sweat all over. The top right side of Helena’s mask was broken off and her left eye was black. Her bottom lip was cut and caked in blood. Her right hand was limp and mangled at the side. There were cuts all over her body and chunks of skin missing. But the worst of all was the blood pooling around her head and foaming at her mouth.

She slowly collapsed next to Helena and just stared at her. She was in the brunette’s line of sight so Helena kept trying to open her mouth to speak. Dinah was so afraid to touch her. She didn’t want to hurt her any further or make anything worse. But her body was broken, she couldn’t possibly break her. Eventually Dinah’s need to hold Helena outweighed her fear of hurting her more.

With a hiccup Dinah picked Helena up and placed her in her lap so she could cradle her. Helena opened her mouth and more blood oozed out onto her chest and Dinah’s pants. Dinah closed her eyes and realized she was crying.

“Oh. Oh Go-d Hel.” Dinah choked.

Dinah looked down at Helena’s fragmented body and just lost it. She hiccuped and collapsed forward as sobs wrecked her body. It felt like her lungs were being squeezed.

“God Helena. Oh God.” She shakily inhaled and pulled the brunette closer to her chest.

Dinah looked down into Helena’s worn brown eyes and struggled to catch her breath. Snot was bubbling on her nose and tears were dripping down to mix with Helena’s blood.

“Di-“

“Shhhh shhh, baby. Don’t talk. Don’t talk all right? Help’s-help’s on the way. Okay? You’re, you’re going to be o-kay.”

Dinah turned around to tell Oliver to call for help. He nodded his head to say he already had. She tried to smile appreciatively but it just came out a grimace. It’s hard to smile when it feels like your heart is being ripped from your chest.

“Dinah.” Helena whispered.

“Lena stop.” Dinah sniffed.

“About what you said earlier,” Helena’s voice was so hushed that Dinah could barely hear her. “I wanted to say-“

“Baby this can wait.”

Dinah didn’t even know what Helena was talking about, all she knew she was that the brunette needed to save her strength.

“It can’t.”

Dinah huffed, her breath coming out incredibly shaky. Her laugh came out all wobbly and her body flinched. “You always were stubborn.”

There was a ghost of a smile on Helena’s face. The fact that it was there but so bare made Dinah feel like she was about to collapse and never get back up.

Helena opened and closed her mouth a few times, looking like a fish that was about die. Dinah frowned and tried to keep the tears in.

“I-“

Helena closed her mouth and struggled to swallow. A choked sob made its way out of Dinah and she tried desperately to shove it back down.

“I love, you-u…t-too.”

Dinah couldn’t hold it in anymore. She just started bawling.

Helena frowned. In her delirious state it hadn’t been the reaction she was expecting (nor wanting). She could tell that Dinah was upset but it was hard to grasp just how upset and she didn’t know why. Numbly she reached out for the blonde. When her right hand wouldn’t move she moved her left one. It felt odd to be using her left hand and it hurt her body to contort for its usage.

Dinah gasped as she saw Helena reaching out for her. Subconciously she leaned forward so Helena could reach her. Helena’s freezing, bloody fingers touched Dinah’s wet cheek sending shivers racketing down Dinah’s spine. The blonde closed her eyes and tried to remember the feel of Helena’s hand, even if it was unnaturally cold.

“My…my pr-pretty-y…bird.” Helena mumbled.

The sound that came out of Dinah was a mix between a sob and laugh and didn’t sound anything natural. She shook her head as Helena’s hand slowly fell limp against Dinah’s chest.

“Please Helena. Don’t leave me.” Dinah sobbed.

Dinah’s eyes were so blurry with tears that she could barely make out Helena’s lips silently moving.

I love you.

Dinah shook her head repeatedly and pulled Helena’s limp body flush against hers.

“Please Hel, please. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave. Please. Please don’t leave.” She kept calling out these words repeatedly as the sirens grew closer.

Dinah’s hands were cloaked in blood from holding Helena, especially her left one that had cradled her head. When she saw her hands she couldn’t handle it.

Dinah threw her head back and let out her sonic cry.

[biteyourbetters]

some thoughts on the wandering earth II (spoilers under cut)

too bloody long

visuals: spectacular. plot: eh, dont think about it too hard. robots: not enough, but i liked the ones that existed. moon: kaboomed.

loved the worldbuilding though. they should have made a pseudo-documentary instead of a blockbuster.

hey, what was up with liu peiqiang locking the door? we're shown han duoduo repeatedly kicking your ass, she's clearly better than you at kicking ass yet you just leave her behind? are you an idiot? it's one thing if she were weaker, but she's supposedly stronger? could have at least shown a scene of him kicking her ass to justify this dumb fuck decision. was her stunt double too expensive or something? lmao

i don't know anything about the chinese mental health system, but i think sending tu hengyu to a grief counselor would have prevented at least one of the many disasters in this movie. blah blah insert justification about how grief is love and love is part of human condition and that love both saved them in the end and damned them in the first place.

someone was sobbing so fucking loudly at han duoduo's cancer scenes, i actually thought it was part of the movie at first. unfortunately, that means the only emotion i associate with that part of the movie is 'kinda annoyed'. ...now that i think about it, they might not have been crying. im going to say they were crying for my own piece of mind.

lots of reviewers complaining about the chinese military propaganda. i mean, yeah, but it's still got nothing on top gun maverick lmao. for real though, it's not even that bad. yall are just too used to american military propaganda.

some funny bits. i especially liked the gag about the russian bomb triggers having no safety, just two triggers. and that bit in the first act where liu peiqiang is told 'don't fall in love', sees a woman kick someone's ass and immediately imagines their marriage. really was too bad her badassery was to make her an especially sexy lamp instead of an actual character. /hj

bit in the movie where a fossil of a broken and healed femur was shown, and a story was told about human civilisation being about supporting each other or w/e. sorry, man, i get that it was supposed to be emotional and heartwarming, but all i could think of was this fucking site.

a bit that did make emotional though, was when liu peiqiang is wandering around the moon all confused and everyone waves him off bc they're too busy and his comm's broken. he doesn't know what the fuck is going on! everyone's on a suicide mission and he has no idea! i don't think there's any emotion worse to end a life on than confusion, except maybe fear. when the man contacted by zhang peng has to tap on liu peiqiang's helmet several times, that was when i realised, 'oh man, this guy is concussed as fuck'.

did they. ever explain who it was that organised the attack in 2044. pretty sure it was the digital lifers but like. they never expanded on it.

oh, ok, we're doing time travel now. hope they explain all the cuts to the cameras in the next movie.

apparently there were post credits. i chose the 9pm showing like an idiot bc i somehow did not register that the movie would be 3 fucking hours long, and had to bolt out of the cinema in order to not miss the last bus home. hope they're online somewhere.

read the synopsis for the first movie to jog my memory, and realised that i retained absolutely nothing from when i actually watched it. this will happen again when i watch the third movie.

[ghost-format]

I posted 21,267 times in 2022

That's 21,261 more posts than 2021!

349 posts created (2%)

20,918 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@just-illegal

@theminecraftbee

@peridot-the-kitten

@senyahgirl

@cloudeling

I tagged 8,744 of my posts in 2022

#art stuff - 2,572 posts

#white background - 1,816 posts

#all caps - 867 posts

#tumblr lore - 832 posts

#hermit stuff - 665 posts

#learning stuff - 579 posts

#fav - 521 posts

#character inspo - 408 posts

#cw white background - 398 posts

#empires stuff - 357 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#it’s the having to communicate for them like a messaging bird because they won’t communicate certain things for eachother because they know

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Visualizing

Team rancher

But Philza Fucking Minecraft shows up and steals their crops

And they shoo him away with a broom

“Damn crows” one of them mutter as they begin fixing their crops

Sometimes they’ll complain about a crow eating their crop to the other double lifers

Like water cooler gossip, but it’s just “The crow keeps coming back, and we don’t know how to get rid of them. It’s so annoying.”

And everyone thinks they’re talking about actual crows, until one day, someone acctually sees Philza Fucking Minecraft ransacking the duo’s field

And they know exactly who Philza Fucking Minecraft is, because he’s the hardcore guy

But he’s obviously still the crow messing with the duo’s stuff

So the only thing that comes out of it is recommending team rancher make a scarecrow

The scarecrow works

They never see Philza Fucking Minecraft again

And the double lifer asks them “Did you know that was The Philza Fucking Minecraft?”

And the duo shrugs

One says “The only title I care about is ‘The Crow That’s Gone And Not Eating Our Food Anymore’”

The other says “TCTGANEOFA” with a nod

And all the double lifer says is “That’s too long”

End scene

281 notes - Posted June 23, 2022

#4

Grian complaining about missing Mumbo reminds me of Evo, when he was missing Taurtis

336 notes - Posted April 10, 2022

#3

To everyone going “I thought the hetalia fandom was dead!” I would like to explain

The hetalia fandom is dead in the same way tumblr is dead

337 notes - Posted September 10, 2022

#2

Keralis’ channel / Hermitcraft S8 Ep3 / 28:42 into it

A zombie is sneaking towards Bdubs while his back is turned

Keralis: *sushing them*

Gem: *giggling quietly*

Keralis: *still shushing*

Keralis: *whispers* quiet

The zombie: *hits Bdubs*

Bdubs: hAAAAAAHHH

*Both Bdubs and the zombie are on fire, and Bdubs instantly starts running away*

Keralis and Gem: *laughter ensues*

Bdubs: OWW

Bdubs: AHh gosh

Bdubs: Click a bed! Click a bed!

Gem: *places down water*

Keralis: It’s not even night!

Bdubs: *relieved* Ohh, thank you Gem

Bdubs: One heart

470 notes - Posted April 9, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Every time I see Donnie wearing his hoodie

I keep thinking of people who wear oversized hoodies that swallow up their shorts.

See the full post

1,230 notes - Posted October 1, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[aestheticallynotdeerlightful]

World building go brrr

Aka the quirks I add to my 3rd life drawings representing “lives”

From Markings located on the forearm, to accessories and fancy eye colors, I delved into a lot (not all, I’m sure there’s more I could do)

Y’all can use these if you want! Maybe just ask first? Idk, we’ll see how much y’all like these.

Specifics (for the items mostly) and easier captions under the cut (it’s pretty long my bad)

-become faded after death

-become faded after death

-become faded after death

-present on all 3rd lifers forearm

-faint glow, easily hidden

-spectators/dead players have one faded heart to replace the missing lives.

“Life items”

-unloseable items or physical traits that represent players lives

-change color depending on players life count (green, yellow, red)

-different for each player

-can change depending on context, ie. (Impulse-neck scarf <—swamp) but not always

-sometimes replaces specific articles of clothing/accessories, ie. (Skizz’s tie, cleos flowers)

•Bdubs- ribbon/bandana braided into hair

•BigB- bag, hasn’t settled anywhere, needs something to carry all his things

•Cleo- Green chrysanthemums

•Etho- simple rectangle sewn on patch

•Grian- Fingerless gloves, tassels resemble little green hearts

•Impulse - Neck bandana, covers mouth in swamp, similarly to etho

•Jimmy- Shoulder guard with heart engraved into the leather.

•Joel- Small silver ring with heart shaped emerald surrounded by ring of gold

•Martyn- Sunglasses with small heart on the arm, simply to match Ren

•Ren- cute little neck scarf, sparkly but not itchy

•Scar- desert shawl, the only thing keeping him from getting a terrible sunburn, plus it doubles as a cape, has a small heart to clasp it together

•Scott- heart necklace, holds small crystal in the center

•Skizzleman- Tie, similar to his normal one, now just heart patterned

•Tango- head bandana, doesn’t hold hair very well, simply replaces previous headband

Eyes

-Most obvious life indicator

-Base color+ life color

-faintly glow until spectator, where it’s dull and faded

-more expressive than normal

-sometimes effects people differently than on average

[where-theres-smoak-2]

10 Little Things I Missed in JATP The First Time Around.

So after binge watching Julie and the Phantoms in one day naturally the first thing I did was go back and watch it all over again and on the rewatches I noticed some things that I didn’t the first time around. Now I’m a few months late to the party so most of these are probably things that most people have already spotted but I figured I’d share them with you anyway just because I love how much detail they put into this show and I need to fangirl about it lol. Obviously there are spoilers. 

1) Missing Persons. In episode 1 when the boys are eating the hotdogs, behind luke you can see his missing person poster showing that his parents were looking for him and trying to get him to come home which is honestly just heartbreaking and tears at my soul. 

2) Signs, all the Signs. In episode 2 when they go to check on reggie’s parents and find the bike shop the name of the bike shop is ‘Petals on the Beach’. Julie’s mum was in a band named ‘Rose and the Petal Pushers.’ Then in episode 5 when we see Willie at the Hollywood Ghost Club we can see that he has a flower pin on his jacket. 

I don’t know for sure if it’s a dahlia or not but it does look like it is to me. Then in episode 6 when Luke goes to see his parents there is a vase of Dahlia’s on the counter behind them. Obviously these flowers link to Julie’s mum and I think it’s interesting that these three things are being linked to Julie’s mum. My theory is that these are connected to each of the boys unfinished business somehow and Rose is leaving hints for the boys. I also think their unfinished business might link back in someway to their parents. We know that they all left their parents on bad terms. Reggie’s parents were having troubles and were close to divorce, Alex’s weren’t accepting of his sexual orientation and Luke ran away leaving on bad terms. We’ve seen a little bit of resolution in Luke’s regard but the other two still haven’t had any. I also don’t think its any one thing that’s their unfinished business but more like a collection of milestones they need to resolve. 

3) Fire, Water and Leather Vests. In episode 6 when the band performs finally free Julie is wearing her mum’s vest, its the same one we see Rose wearing in episode 1 when she meets sunset curve. 

Since then either rose or julie has added doodles to it. One of the doodles looks like flames, fire is a symbol of rebirth or resurrection. Another of the doodles looks like waves/ water. Water is a symbol of both life and freedom which makes it kind of perfect for a song called ‘finally free’.  

There is more fire symbolism in Stand Tall with the special effects behind the band showing fire like imagery. Throughout the performance it shows glowing embers and fireworks. 

Which is also similar to the firery effect made by the lights in the background of their Finally Free performance. 

These along with other symbols of rebirth and resurrection is obviously connected to how the boys were brought back to ‘life’ again by Julie but also how they brought Julie back to life too. 

4) More Doodles. Again sticking with episode 6 when we see Julie drawing on her microphone she is drawing a birthday cake which is meant for Luke. We know that she only seems to draw things that are important to her on the microphone the other doodles include a rose and a dahlia obviously symbolic of her mother, the words double trouble which links her to Flynn, the words I’ve got the music and music notes, this is her connection to music. Then the final thing she draws on it is the birthday cake which shows how Luke is important to her. I also think its important that she does this right after learning more about him and seeing a deeper side to him, I do think this is when her feelings for him really deepened. 

5)  Braided Together. This is one that I think alot of people noticed but the braids in Julie’s hair in both I got the Music and Stand Tall are the colours of the three boys, red, blue and pink. Again showing how intertwined all of their souls are with each other and with music. I think it very much represents how the boys brought music back into her life.

6) The Power of Purple. Both Caleb and Julie have the rare power of being able to make ghosts visible to lifers and most likely have other mystical powers too if that last scene with the band glowing and being able to be touched by Julie is any indication. Both of them wear the colour purple. 

The colour purple symbolises magic, mystery and spirituality. I do feel like Julie and Caleb are the opposite sides of the same coin. They both posess similar powers but they are using them for very different reasons. I think they very much represent the living and the dead. Julie kind of brings people back to life whereas Caleb draws people to the otherside, the afterlife. 

7) Greek Mythology. Speaking of the afterlife, in episode 5 when at the Hollywood Ghost Club, Caleb encourages the boys to eat some food, on first watch this just came across as a kinda funny scene but when I rewatched it I realised something. I actually think this is a nod at the myth of Persephone and the pomegranate seeds. In greek mythology if you ate or drank anything in the underworld then you would be trapped there forever. Obviously we know not long after eating Caleb brands the boys with his club stamp forcing them to make the decision of joining his band for eternity or being destroyed by the jolts. He decieves them just as Hades decieves Persephone.  

8) Full Circle. Both the band’s first performance (Bright) and last (stand tall) starts with Julie on stage alone unknowing that the boys are going to show up. In the first performance she doesn’t know yet that they can be visible when on stage with her and in Stand tall she thinks they have been destroyed by the jolts already. It brings her journey full circle. 

9) Maternal Ties. The first time we see Luke perform and the last he has the same scarf tied around his arm.

He also has this same scarf in his back pocket during finally free both the performance and the episode as a whole. My theory is that the scarf belonged to his mother. During Unsaid Emily when you see him packing and arguing with his mother the scarf is in his back pocket. You can see it in his back pocket again during unsaid emily when he is singing as a ghost if that makes sense. 

It tends to show up, from what I can tell, either when Luke is having a big moment like the night that was suppose to be sunset curve’s big break at the Orpheum or Julie and the Phantoms performance at the Orpheum. Or when it has something to do with his mother like in episodes Finally Free and Unsaid Emily. I think he carries it as a good luck charm. 

10) Butterflies and Roses. In episode 7 during the edge of great performance the butterflies on julie’s top are the colours of the band. Red for Reggie, blue for Luke, pink for Alex and purple for Julie. Butterflies are a symbol of transformation and again another symbol of rebirth and resurrection. Also during the final performance Reggie has butterflies and flowers on his vest. Luke has roses on his guitar strap (also skulls but lets ignore that for now) and Alex has a rose in his suit jacket. 

Again the butterflies are symbolising the rebirth of the group but also could be to do with that transformation the boys go through at the end where they can now be touched. (I have soo many questions about that scene.) Also we have the roses which again shows the link to Rose and how she brought Julie and the boys together. 

Like I said I’m sure most of these are really obvious but I get excited about little details like these and the producers really did do an amazing job at weaving them throughout the show. I’m sure there are even more that I’ve missed so if you know of anymore please feel free to enlighten me. Still keeping my fingercrossed for a season 2.

 Edit: I found more fun little details and yes I am obsessed, part 2 can be read here if anyone is interested. 

[funsizearsonist]

Headcanon 1/?

hey!! I know it’s a lil late in the day for this (as in: it’s past 12 so this was supposed to be up yesterday) but here you guys go! I figured I’d kick off this whole headcanon shabang with some good old-fashioned willie angst!

TW for talk of losing a soul? 

What if losing your soul hurts more than the jolts?

I mean it makes sense right? With jolts it was just Caleb getting their souls, not destroying them

So it probably takes time for him to destroy a soul, because he's powerful but only so much

And completely destroying a soul has gotta take a lot of power, more than stealing one, so it would take more time

so what if the s2 deal is:

Caleb realizes what happened. He's lost Willie, because Willie has found someone else and become disillusioned with the hgc and everything he does. So it's time for Willie to Go

He tries not to tip willie off because he doesn’t want them to realize what's happening any sooner than he has to, because no one should be able to counteract him but they weren’t supposed to be able to get rid of the stamp either

But willie knows that something’s up because Caleb has to know. He has to know that he helped them cross over, has to know him being gone that day had something to do with the big show at the Orpheum. He should be mad? But he hasn’t even said a word, and willie is on their toes

Then he overhears Caleb discussing with his right hand man. Filling a position, a traitor, must be disposed of, something along those lines. And there’s really no question what that’s about.

So maybe he's panicking. So what? What could they be expected to do? He just sort of runs, then skates, away. There's nothing left for him at the club, they cant stay when Caleb is there and Caleb is killing them, in a way

So he hops on his skateboard and goes as fast as they can and when the streets get too busy and they’re not in the mood to pass through anything he picks up his skateboard and runs and when he's fully out of breath even though he's a ghost and all the fight drains out of him

He sort of just drops down to the ground, maybe on the beach

And figures if they’re gonna spend their last days anywhere, it might as well be here 

And he knows he has a good few painful last days ahead of him because destroying a soul isn’t easy work 

So he holds his skateboard and watches the sunset and cries 

Because of the band that's gone now because of them 

Because of Alex, who was so amazing and is now so painfully not there 

And he lays down and gets hit by a jolt? of sorts? that feels like getting kicked in the chest and landing on your back at the same time 

And it knocks all the air out of him, so he just stays there, staring at the sky. It’s not like they had anywhere to go anyway

And they just stay there, on their back, running his hand over one of his skateboard wheels, as the sky gets darker and darker and fills with stars, and then lighter again 

Maybe humming Finally Free or something quietly to themself 

Then the next morning, the boys take a walk on the beach 

Or maybe just Alex 

And they find willie there, crying 

When he gets hit with another jolt thing that leaves him gasping for breath, doubled over in pain

So reunion!! The boys didn’t have to cross over and leave julie behind after all! They get to see Alex's face again, and they’re really happy for the boys, being free

But it's almost worse because now they’re leaving Alex again 

And then he'll be just completely Gone and there's no coming back from that

So he tries to push Alex away, after all they only brought trouble and he doesn't want Alex getting too attached before he's gone 

But Alex isn’t having it so he takes willie back to the Molinas’

And just showers them in love 

And they don’t go on dates, really, but they decide to do a lot of the things they never got to do together 

Most things they do as a family (willie, alex, reggie, luke, and probably also julie+co sometimes) The only true family willie's ever had 

So willie's having a great time, when he's not being knocked on his ass by jolts

Willie decides to go on a date of sorts with Alex, close ish to his end 

Because as the jolts get worse he doesn’t want that to be all they're thinking about 

And he doesn’t want it to be Alex who's there/the only one there when they finally disappear

So the date is adorable and bittersweet 

Maybe they go skateboarding, and they try to teach Alex a few things 

And then Alex tries to teach him a few things on drums, because they both want to learn about the thing the other loves 

But for the main part of the date 

They just wander 

Hold hands in public, which Alex isn’t quite used to but he loves 

And just go where their hearts take them, with no concerns about time or caleb or anything, which willie certainly isn’t used to but its great 

They end up at a park, and there's some music playing, and they dance, which they both love 

The first song is fast and fun and just the way they're both used to dancing already 

But the next one is slow and sweet and they just hold each other tightly and one or both of them ends up crying softly (i want it to be alex) 

And willie feels a little bit lighter, but he brushes it off as the time spent with Alex, as getting things in order, feeling better about not missing all his chances to just be softly in love

They go home together, still holding hands 

Because willie has a home now 

He spends time with his family, and he has a moment like that with each of them (julie, luke, reggie) 

Their moments probably come before his date with Alex bc Alex is most important but whatever 

With reggie he gets to be himself and he doesn’t have to pretend to be happy all the time. (even though he could be himself with any of them it just feels right with reggie because reggie knows too) They talk about things that happened to them, reggie about his parents and willie about his foster home and caleb. And neither of them feels the need to joke, to paste on a smile, to cover it up. But it isn’t sad, it’s cathartic, they bond and connect. And their moment is when reggie gives them his leather jacket 

With Luke, he gets to be reckless 

They "break in" to places, play pranks (adhd impulsive boys anyone) 

And their moment is when they're out somewhere and catch sight of something and all they need is a shared glance to run over and cause Ghost Antics, just like brothers 

With Julie, they get to be goofy 

They make jokes, use gen z humor, she brings in flynn and they do a fashion show sorta thing, and they end up baking cookies together with a movie in the background 

Neither of them really know how to make cookies, and they turn out terrible, but in the process of making them they get into a food fight (although it doesn’t do much to willie) and julie accidentally spills that she used to bake with her mother but no one would do it with her ever since Rose died, but now that she has willie in her family too she has someone to bake with again

And each of these moments lifts some weight off of his shoulders, but he doesn’t quite realize it 

Then he has his date with Alex 

And the next day, as the jolts get worse, they spend the whole day as a family 

Including Ray and Carlos who have been informed of the ghost situation

They watch movies, build a blanket fort, test his Ghost Powers for Carlos, eat dinner together 

All the while, the jolts get less and less 

Without realizing it, because willie is too caught up having fun with everyone 

After dinner, they bring everyone out to the garage, and perform a song they wrote for willie 

As a goodbye and a thank you and everything else they thought they'd never get time to say 

Everyone gets an individual verse that they wrote themselves to say something to willie, including Ray and Carlos 

Then they all sing the last verse together, and they’re free 

He found a family despite Caleb's best efforts 

They broke free from the brainwashing and misery and false front he had to put up at the hgc 

He loved and was loved, unconditionally 

And (not to get sappy) but that's what breaks through everything 

Not just Caleb's efforts to destroy their soul, but caleb's ownership on it too 

Especially when they've got julie molina on their side

(just to clarify, in this idea the assumption is that Julie can see willie but no other lifers can, either because She Can Just Do That or because of some bs that ill make up later)

[indieephemera]

September spread, plus calendar detail, from the 1989 “Rock ‘N’ Roll Calendar” issued by Boston rock radio station WBCN.

What better band for WBCN—at that time the graying, album-oriented rock granddaddy of the Boston airwaves—to feature as September stars than fellow lifers The Grateful Dead?

Quite a contrast with the decidedly more current musical action happening this month for me, as evidenced by the numerous events scribbled in here:

Sept 17: “More Coop Concerts!” — This year’s series of free, outdoor concerts sponsored by radio station WFNX, the previous year’s which I had helped introduce me to local music

Sept 19: “Robyn Hitchcock tickets go on sale” — One of the earliest instances of my concert ticket sale calendar reminders-to-self

Sept 21: “The The at the Orpheum” — That would’ve been a fun one. Alas, I missed it.

Sept 22: “Galaxie 500/Blake Babies at Go Team show, Adams House, Harvard / 9pm” — As previously documented here, this show more than made up for the previous night’s miss, even if Galaxie 500 bowed out and Honeybunch played instead.

Sept 24: “Robyn Hitchcock at T.T. the Bear’s” — More Fegmania

Sept 29: “Love + Rockets / Pixies at Great Woods” and “Kelly’s b-day party, 7:30pm-midnight” — Really regretting having skipped that killer double bill to go to Kelly’s birthday party, even if it helped maintain my all-important teen social life

[between-two-fandoms]

Hi! Love your fics! Might I prompt you with a JaTP where Alex is always cold both as a lifer and as a ghost (hence the double jacket looks), and Luke and Reggie are always prepared for situations where he might need another layer and/or blanket.

When they were alive it was more noticeable… Alex’s shivering that is. Luke noticed it first, when he’d show up to practices during cold fall days without a jacket. Or the times they were just hanging out, and Alex would gravitate towards him like a moth to flame seeking the heat radiating off of his body. Once Alex woke up in the middle of the night and his skin was ice cold Luke and Reggie took to wearing an extra sweatshirt or two, so they’d be ready the next time it happened. The first holiday season the band spent together they pooled their money and got Alex an oversized pink hoodie from a thrift store close to their studio. Alex never complained about being cold again, and hasn’t since they’ve been half-dead ghosts. Which is why Luke just assumed the cold-factor disappeared when they died… in hindsight he probably should have double checked with Alex because then they’d be able to avoid their current situation. “Luke, move your elbow!” Reggie complained, as Luke tried to readjust so Alex would be able to sleep better on the couch. Since they turned half-dead they had to do half-dead things, like sleep, and eat, and use the bathroom.

“Move your back,” Luke said as he elbowed Reggie off the couch. Reggie flopped onto the floor with a grunt. Alex grumbled something unintelligible and a shudder ran through his body. Alex’s back was pressed against Luke’s chest, and Luke could feel how cold he was through his sleeveless t-shirt.

“You’re warm,” Alex mumbled. He wrapped his limbs around Luke and climbed on top of his chest. He trapped him on the couch. Luke wriggled to try and get into a more comfortable position, but Alex just tightened his grip and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Suddenly a heavy fleece blanket was tossed on top of them both and Reggie’s giggle cut through the air. Luke grumbled,

“Cut it out, we’re sleeping.” Reggie snorted in response and Luke tried to throw a pillow at him, but Alex just hugged him tighter. At this point Luke couldn’t tell where his own body ended and the couch started.

“I thought you didn’t get cold anymore,” Reggie commented as he settled into a lazy boy chair Julie helped the guys drag down from the loft.

“Guess being half-dead has negative effects,” Alex said. Luke could feel the drummer smile into his chest. Reggie pulled his flannel on and curled up, turning away from him. Rolling his eyes Luke said,

“Get your ass over here.” Reggie moved slowly, like he was worried Luke was tricking him.

“Three bodies means more heat,” Alex said with a tired smile. That was all Reggie needed to hear before jumping onto Alex and Luke, sandwiching between them and the couch. Alex made a content cat-like mewling sound as Luke started to play with his hair.

“Better?” Luke asked Alex, who just nodded wordlessly in response. Reggie let out a soft chuckle,

“Good. We can’t have a band without a frozen drummer.” When Alex’s soft snores filled the air Luke managed to shift them both so Alex was between him and Reggie. Luke was half-falling off his couch, but if his boys were comfortable that was all that mattered. Reggie stretched an arm around the both of them, pulling Luke closer.

“I miss this,” Reggie admitted into the silence. Alex’s loud snore cut through the air. Luke knew what he meant. Between starting the band with Julie and the Orpheum performance they didn’t really have the time to hang out with just them anymore.

“It’s not gone,” Luke said as he reached out his own arm and ran his hand through Reggie’s hair. Reggie nodded and a sheepish smile crossed his face.

“I know…” Alex’s face scrunched together like he was having a bad dream. Reggie curled against Alex’s back, reassuring Alex that he was safe. It worked, and Luke watched as Alex’s twisted expression relaxed. Alex’s grip on Luke’s arm didn’t let up though, and he winced at the sudden coldness.

“He really is cold,” Luke said, concerned in his voice. Reggie nodded, then let out a stifled yawn.

“I know we don’t really need sleep, but it’s late and I’m tired.” Reggie said, and Luke found himself letting out his own yawn in response.

“Reggie… I’m sorry if you felt like we’ve been ignoring you. Being busy with love interests doesn’t excuse that.” Reggie rolled his eyes,

“It’s midnight Luke, I don’t want to have a chick flick moment.” Luke’s hurt puppy dog expression reflected in his eyes.

“But we’re okay right?” Luke asked. Reggie let out a light laugh he nodded,

“Of course we’re okay. We’re always going to be okay,” Reggie answered as he ran a hand through Luke’s hair. Luke stayed awake a little while longer, but Reggie fell asleep. Lying in peace and quiet with two of the most important people in his life wrapped up in his arms made Luke himself feel safe. Alex was starting to feel warm again, the fleece blanket trapping all of Luke’s body heat under it. Luke hummed softly as his eyelids finally grew heavy, and his world faded to black. 

[kalesandfails]

i like my body/ and it is not your body

My weekend was great, thanks! I ran ten miles each morning, and running is the closest I get to approximating what it feels like to have properly firing neurons. I listened to two loves of my life, Jon Lovett and Stacy Abrams (about whom I will write more another time, but don’t wait for that;  go give her project to resist voter suppression your money here). I read books to the literal piles of humans I have made, dizzy with the sheer acreage of their cheeks. I had a conversation with my autistic preschooler about Ariel — the first proper conversation my daughter has ever initiated with me.

So, I’m doing okay right now, thanks for not asking while I proceed to say some stuff.

I’m saying this not because my voice is the one that needs to be uplifted in a conversation about  either fat-shaming or ectopic pregnancies, but because I went to bed thinking about the distressing common thread between the current weird preoccupation of other seemingly uninvolved parties with the two phenomena. And because, while I think James Cordon, God among men, gets this, and I know that other survivors of miscarriages, ectopic pregnancies, and the million other situations in which abortion has been a Godsend — as in, the best option or only tenable option for a specific human being at a specific point in time —I’m just thinking that maybe the people who need to hear it, literally cannot hear it enough, or from enough people, until they have plunked their toned, tailored-suit-wearing man asses into some comfortable seats, ones from which it is somewhat labor-intensive to emerge, and sat a round or two out.

The first is this: you, fat-shamer, and you, pro-lifer who, surprisingly, is willing to “let God decide” if a college student with a fertilized egg threatening to rupture her fallopian tube and kill her should live or not — since the role your God presumably had in supplying the skill and technology to save her life wasn’t a clear enough sign of His will, and despite the fact that God apparently can’t be trusted to supply Her children with appropriate sexual and gender identities — you get a single body and that is your body. And that body, and control of that body, are just going to need to be enough.

Look: there’s no reason to believe that someone who is insulting people over their weight has any strategic goal related to either health or weight loss. To claim otherwise, to walk back your antagonistic bullshit with a sanctimonious “but I’m concerned for [their] health!” : this a is mindbogglingly bad-faith argument. Because the human being you are shaming, or, honestly, any person acquainted with how people feel when you’re shitty to them, will point out that humiliating people and promoting discrimination against them doesn’t effectively motivate them to change their behavior, let alone the physical body they inhabit, and you will say — what, that it should?

At that point, it will become clear that what you, the fat-shamer, want, is for these people to change their bodies in response to your comments about whether or not they can see their penises or get laid or give you an erection; that, basically, what you are doing is doubling down on a system in which if you are a woman, you should feel embarrassed and subhuman if your body is an inadequately hot commodity for the consumption of this unnamed but all-important (male) consumer. (You, right? It’s you to whom we’re trying to make our bodies presentable?)

And if you, the fat-shamed, are a man, your worth is still determined by men, this time the ones who supposedly know how successful you are at getting women to have sex with you based on their opinions of your body, and who have decided that this is the metric by which your worth is established. (Side note: straight guys who know so much about what women want, I’m guessing you don’t want to rethink your premise that your estimation of other guys’ bodies is the one that matters when determining what women find attractive, but it would behoove you to do so. If there were one thing women don’t like (there’s not!), it would be straight guys mansplaining our sexuality to us).

Basically, what fat shaming is about in your sixties (because that is how old Bill Mayer is, friends!) is what fat shaming is about in sixth grade. It’s just one more way that a certain group of people, a group  with relatively more power than others and a deep fear of losing it, maintain that power by saying: I am going to tell you what matters, and I am going to tell you whether or not you have that thing that matters, and I am going to make it so painful for you to not have it that you will remake your body to get me off your back, because it is weirdly important to me to exert this control over you.

My furtive eighth grade crush got fat shamed in middle school, and he was pretty fat. But, you know, so did I, and I’ve never had a medical doctor express concern for my weight. Discouragingly, it barely registered with them when I was losing my hair and hadn’t had a period in a year. But other helpful randos, from grandmas to girls in my gymnastics class, started calling me fat at age four, and the only way I was able to stop them was to self-regulate so effectively that by the time I went to college, I was throwing up when I “lost control” and chewed too many pieces of Juicy Fruit.

That’s the goal of fat-shaming, fat-shamers: someone who has accepted your right to tell them who they are and what their worth so unreservedly that she can graduate Phi Beta Kappa on the one hand, but still believe that she is “too fat to sit down” on her graduation night. And — as one person with a running leitmotif I like to call “pathological need for control” running through my adolescence and early adulthood to another —- can I suggest you slow your roll and take a look in your own goddamn mirror?

I can’t speak to why a person might experience exerting control over the bodies of other people as catharsis, why what they need to self regulate is to make someone else feel worthless. I can only imagine that this bullshit behavior comes from the same sense of existential dread that makes two missed days at the gym feel like that a night in one of those sky cells on Game of Thrones to me. But I can be compassionate towards you and also take a hard pass when it comes to “tolerating” your “opinions” about the value of people around you, or your right to patrol the size of their bodies or to determine that they need to be harassed into having a body you like better. Your feeling about thigh gaps or whatever is your deal, but the fact that you think other people should be treated badly or should endanger their health in an effort to make their bodies acceptable to you is also, 100%, your deal, and not the problem or the responsibility of the people in those bodies. Take your body and do whatever you want with it, but shut the mouth part of it first.  

Similarly: I’m not going to explain to anyone why a fertilized egg in one’s fallopian tube is 1. not a viable pregnancy and 2. not something to “watchfully wait" over. “Watchful waiting” is appropriate when the risks of intervention are significant, or the benefits unclear, or both. In the very few cases in which this might be what a doctor would advise, that decision is made though a cost-benefit analysis with the mother, because the mother is the patient being treated. There is no “child’s life” to consider because, as with any pregnancy, but maybe especially an entirely nonviable one, there is no child yet.

If you are anything but shocked by the idea that someone should be expected to “wait and see” if their medically treatable and potentially fatal medical condition will kill them or not because of how another person, living in another body, feels about the situation, then you don’t give a shit about life. Not the life of that woman, which you are endangering. Not the lives of any existing children she has or partner she has or parents or students or siblings or friends. What you are saying, again, is that you decide what this woman’s life is worth — and your expectation is that she accept that when it comes down to it, your random feelings about her body both define the value of that body and should be factored into the clinical decision making of her medical provider.

As with our fat-shamers above, I’m just wondering where it came from, this idea that you’re entitled to control the bodies of other human beings, and the weirdly aggressive efforts to do so.

Are you ok, Representative? It seems to me you are not.

It doesn’t even matter that an ectopic pregnancy is not viable. Because pro-life arguments are about “preserving life” the way fat-shaming is about “promoting health”: that is to say, they’re not about that at all. It’s about being unwilling to either take responsibility for working out whatever damage you have, or to acknowledge that the way you are choosing to work that damage out is by violently exerting control over the bodies and lives of others.

Forcing a woman to carry a pregnancy she doesn’t want is violent whether that pregnancy is only somewhat likely, as it is in the case of a viable pregnancy carried in a country with the highest material mortality rate in the developed world, or pretty effing likely, as in the case where the pregnancy is lodged in a tube that will not accomodate it. When you legally compel another human being to risk her life carrying a pregnancy in her body because of how you feel, that is violent.

I want to have compassion for you, person who sees no better option than hurting other people to deal with whatever it is life has handed you. I’m something of a poster child for irrational or detractive ways of dealing with the parts of the world I don’t like: see above, where a teenage permutation of me was vomiting gum bile. But I also feel like we don’t serve anyone by looking the other way while they evade the responsibly we all have to handle our own shit.

Certainly you get that, right? If a person’s body size, the pregnancy they carry, their health status, are all issues of personal responsibility, surely you, too, can own up to the fact that you have this thing where, instead of overdoing it at the buffet  — or, I don’t know, getting pregnant in the wrong part of your body?  — you insist that other people’s bodies should be altered to your specifications, and that you should decide if those bodies are fed, or wear shorts, or receive medical care. You can acknowledge that this is a weirder and less palatable approach to managing your dark feelings than is eating too many carbs or whatever it is you think we’re all doing with our insufficiently controlled, overweight, inconveniently fertile bodies. You can set aside that weight-loss tea you’re sipping and consider that maybe, the one who’s “ready for a change” is you.

[ladyofmind]

August is over? Recap time...

First things first... Between Patreon and other tasks, I dropped off towards the end of the month... I’m sure you saw the #CharactersHell board that took my time and, most importantly, brain stuffs.

We have, however, organized it so that future boards should not be as hard as the first one.

As long as it is as well received as it’s other game, by the same @M_arbanassi (on Twiter) #CharactersHell should have just as amazing a community as #CharactersTell. Tell focuses on the characters every week. Hell is a monthly board covering a little bit more, including us authors.

Basically, those two tags are my guaranteed game plays for the foreseeable future. The question will be what other ones will I be playing this coming September?

While I ponder that, here are the old answers...

#wipwordsearch  AKA  #RedLettersTeasers

1- Sly had a way of #schooling his features so that no one could read him. If Gus was happy about it, he could be happy for Gus. Still… "But why do some of the women have pointy weapons?"

2- He followed her lead carefully, since they were not in his place, & he made sure to lower only his top half. They could stare at his jean clad #back side for all he cared.

3- Rolling the blanket over herself like a sleeping bag, Tweet felt for her note #book in the dark, finding where she left the pen in the page, half heartedly scribbling notes she hoped she would understand in the margins.

4- That she would have to cover with make up, and that would have to work for the #bags under her eyes too.

5- At least two of the biggest #gossips of Soul were furiously, but covertly, trying to get her attention.

6- She still needed him around, and Malta would miss her #crush too much.

7- The kindnesses came back ten fold, as Nate catered Martin's musical event, with the chocolate man making a lifelike red guitar that shined as if it had a fresh coat of pearlescent #paint.

8- His long black hair fell to one side, and hardly covered any of the piercing or tattoos, which covered his arms and neck in a sea of darker #colors.

9- Nira wasn't the only one #catching on to the language from exposure.

10- "You don't have to read it, if you don't like it." Woods' movements slowed, as he scrunched #up the material of his shirt.

11- She wasn't by any means an #expert, but one knew quickly which ones felt like sucking lemons, due to the way they pulled her face of their will, and which ones she might want to drink again.

12- The point was made, she was #playing with house money, and she would win.

13- Seemed this new Soulful was #true to it's name, and proving more interesting with each visit.

14- NO WINGS

15- Remmy rolled the window down, and waved at Woods, a sigh escaping him. "#Hurry up slow poke. I think you should be offended, but that's my opinion that you don't always listen to talking.

16- NO ESSENCE

17- Remmy was getting #sick of repeating himself. "Just go talk to Tweet…."

18- By the simple look of a wedged arm and crumpled leg, she knew to #avert her gaze, that seeing the parts of limbs was close enough.

19- Spoiler if posted SLASH

20- Not that this was any type of pet, it was somewhere between a tiger and #house cat in size.

21- NO CASCADE

22- NO LITE

23- "Seems like you have a musical connection with everyone you meet." Her words had been a double-edged #sword to him.

24- One #building caught her eye, with its sheer size and stain glass details.

25- Plus if he loitered too long, he'd be late to #class.

26- Once #inside, she showered and found herself staring into her closet.

27- She needed to remember to encourage them all to have lives #outside the bar.

28- Staff loyalty and respect was next on the ever #growing list.

29- Even nearly #falling onto a guy and barely keeping her red rubies caged looked classy.

30- Angus and Scotty had the good sense to first agree with Woods, and then do their darnedest to get Brandon to #leave while he was still in one piece.

31- They were out in the public, it was #chilly, he was sure there was some law about it, and was she ready for what she was trying to do?

#CharactersTell

1/8- Woods back again! The band and I thought it was time to talk again, especially since this month is art themed, and we are artists *someone snickers* Don't start that again mate… We're glad to be here in… (The Red Letters series)

2/8- Woods- Of course! We're musicians, so that is our favorite.

Brandon- "Women too"

W- "A fine bird's form can be a masterpiece yes, with legs for miles and plump shapes."

3/8- Woods- "Yeah mate, Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, couple of car places. It's my passion, so why not go see it in a museum too if you can?"

4/8- Woods- "We play rock music, but I have listened to all kinds in my life. Never know what will inspire that next song of your own."

5/8- Woods- *laughs while the boys chuckle* "I prefer relaxed movies, in the sense that thinking too hard kills the buzz. Ain't nothing too relaxed about the movies I watch, especially if we just finished filming it."

6/8- Woods caught elbowing the blokes on the couch with him. "Unless this is Play boy, the answer to that question has to be music." *preoccupied by trying to help cover Brandon's mouth.*

7/8- Woods- "Maybe you haven't heard of us, but we are already famous for being a band. Tour regularly, another album in the works, so on and so forth. That's my legacy. Rock and roll lifer."

8/8- "Thank god! Woods doesn't shut up. Brandon the lead singer and better showman ready to take control of this band interview…"

9/8- Brandon- "Depends what you're talking about. Realistic women, but their ink can be anything. Just better not be ugly where I have to stare at. Say no to cutesy tramp stamps."

10/8- Brandon- "Sure, action movies are my thing. Love a good Bond girl if you know what I mean…"

11/8- Brandon- "The only art I understand is music. Beyond that, I don't need to fake it, I just don't care."

12/8- Brandon- "Designer all the way. You don’t get on sexy lists wearing ill-fitting bargain basement bullsh*t. Plus the free clothes or marketing money isn't bad when you're famous."

13/8- Brandon- "Women. Enough said."

14/8- Brandon- "Certainly not gentle, in any way. Fair in music consideration, but mostly critical everywhere else."

15/8- "Hey, you want to talk to me too? I'm Remmy, just the friendly security to Woods and occasional band wrangler when the manager is busy." *tips fedora in greeting, stepping up to stand behind Woods on the couch*

16/8- Remmy- "I like visiting museums for my hobbies yes. Then again, it depends on how you define art, as this one puts away food like no ones business, and this one has the habit of being the bands lightweight. That’s weird place art no one asks for…" *taps BGC*

17/8- Remmy- "After listening to this bunch bang around all night and day, I like to listen to a smooth station, or at least some smoother oldies."

18/8- Remmy- "Is it any different than watching the headbangers? Always wonder if they wake up with whiplash the next morning…"

19/8- Remmy- "Besides these guys? Not exactly. Plan on going to see someone and some music will play its part soon enough…"

20/8- Remmy- "My only art is information. Its how I keep Woods safe, keep the band life smooth and easy… Maybe in that way, I have picked up the juggling skill?"

21/8- Remmy- "What are you talking about? That's definitely the sort of question that skips over my head." *tips his fedora and straightens his bigger old school mod style jacket.*

22/8- *Silence until Remmy prods a man* "What? Oh yo! Tour life's been rough man, gotta get your zzz's in when you can. Especially when Remmy rattles on." *straightens up* "I'm Josh aka Angus, and this is Scotty the drummer" *Drums on Scotty's gut to wake him up too*

23/8- Josh-"Got new bass art, and tattoos. My wifey doesn't like me looking at much, or it's an earful."

Scotty-"Man at least you get to look. My wife won't even let me play drums in my house because of the baby. I get kicked out when it screams like a metalhead."

24/8- Josh & Scotty- "The Terminator Mockingbird T800 comes to mind." "Did you ever see the Heineken drums? Or the plastic video game fakeness?" *nudged by other band members before they accidentally speak in unison* "My wife."

29/8- *Both laugh, then Woods speaks for himself and Remmy* "Neither of us draw, and if we did, it would mostly be bollacks and bristols in Sharpies when the other passes out."

R-"It took a week to get the last one off  my chin…"

30/8- *Brandon talks over his bandmates* "There is a rather poorly done, wrong sided sort of bio out about me, but yes, I want more books about me, done CORRECTLY."

[shrineblade80]

The Camp Nurse_(0)

Fbailey story number 679 The Camp Nurse When I was thirteen my parents were separating to see if they could save their marriage. I got caught in the middle so they shipped me off to camp for the entire summer…all twelve weeks of it. Camp Butterfly in the Rainbow Mountains…what a crock of shit. They seemed to offer just about everything that a boy or girl could want…as long as the girl was a Tomboy. They offered a lot of team sports, a lot of water sports, and a lot of individual sports. I always did better on my own. I hated to depend on someone else. I guess I got that from my father. Most of the kids were there for just one or two weeks. There were a few of us that were stuck there for the full season. There were six of us boys and two girls. We were put in a double bunkhouse with the camp nurse as our counselor. The cabin had a main room with two bedrooms off to the sides and each bedroom had its own bathroom. The camp nurse slept with the two girls. In the first week us ‘lifers’ as we were know, stuck together. We did all of our activities together. The girls wore their bikinis almost all of the time. We boys wore shorts all of the time. In the water we got paired up and I got Cindy. We were both thirteen and the youngest of the group. When we went canoeing Cindy was in the front and I was in the back. I got some great views of her ass crack. She knew it too because she would reach back, poke a finger into her exposed crack, and then try to pull her bottom up to cover it. It didn’t work. When we went swimming we were buddies and had to stay within six feet of one another. She would tie her top when it was dry and then it would be loose when it got wet. Cindy was good at tightening her bottom under the water. However, her top was a different problem. One of her boobs would fall out whenever she tried to get her top tighter. I got several looks at her wonderful hard pink nipples. She knew it too and eventually she realized that it just didn’t matter if I saw them or not. During the second week she just let me look. That was when I started telling Cindy how pretty she was and how much I liked her butt crack and her breasts. She seemed to enjoy the complements. She also let me see her goodies more often. At the campfires we sat together and shared a blanket like some of the other couples. That was when Cindy placed my hand on her knee. When I didn’t move it up, she did. When my hand was touching her pussy she opened her legs up for me. I was a virgin and I thought that she was too but she was a lot more aggressive than I was. When she tried to push my hand down inside her bottom I just went with the flow. That was something that the camp nurse had told me to do. I wondered if the camp nurse had told her to do this. Anyway I got my finger into her slit and explored her pussy a little. I found her clit because she jumped when I hit it. I also found her hole and it was wet. After that I had a great time until we sang the final song ‘Kum Ba Yah’ and had to go to bed. On the way back to our cabin we held hands. I lifted my finger up to my nose to smell of it and Cindy giggled. I watched her slip her fingers down into her bikini bottom, finger herself, and then raise those two fingers up to my nose. Cindy whispered in my ear, “I thought that you would like to smell me now that I’ve had an orgasm. I know that I smell and taste different then.” I asked, “Can I taste you?” Cindy slipped her two fingers into my mouth. Then she said, “If you want to compare my taste to Donna and Miss Jones I can arrange it.” I asked, “How?” Cindy replied, “How do you think? I’ll poke my fingers in them and then let you taste.” I asked, “They’ll let you do that?” Cindy replied, “I’ve done a whole lot more than that with them.” I said, “Tell me.” Cindy giggled and said, “Later. Wait in your bunk for about an hour and then come over to the girl’s room. I’ll be waiting for you. Don’t let the other boys know what you’re doing.” I got a kiss in our common room and the other boys teased me about it. I waited the full hour and then I slipped out unnoticed. Cindy was waiting for me at her door. She looked cute in her camp T-shirt and nothing else. She pulled me inside. The other two girls said hello to me. They had a night-light so I could sort of see them. Cindy went over to Donna, reached under the covers, and then Donna started to coo. After a while Cindy pulled her hand out and let me smell her fingers, and then she let me taste them. Donna had a deeper musky aroma and a much more tangy taste. Miss Jones let Cindy finger her pussy too and she really enjoyed it. When I smelled of Cindy’s fingers they smelled really nice, like mangos. The taste was very pleasant too. Miss Jones said, “Cindy, take off your T-shirt and get on your bed so that he can taste you properly.” Cindy pulled her T-shirt up over her head and tossed it on the floor. She got on her bed and pulled me down into her crotch. I then smelled the source of her arousal. I pushed my nose right into her slit and started licking her girl juices.

Miss Jones said, “He’s hard. Let him fuck you now.” I looked at Cindy and she smiled at me. She whispered, “I’m a virgin and Miss Jones helped me set this up. Be gentle, please.” I now knew where my cock belonged and I aimed it in that direction. I got it right up to her and gave it a little push. The head popped in and Cindy covered her mouth. I pushed a little harder and she cringed. The last push was the hardest and I went all the way in. Cindy held me tight and still. After a minute she whispered, “Okay, but be gentle. I’ll get used to it soon.” I took my time and pulled and pushed as gently as I could. It wasn’t easy because I just wanted to fuck her as fast and as hard as I could but I knew better. My father had told me a joke once. Well he didn’t exactly tell me the joke but I overheard it. It went something like this: A young bull said to the old bull…lets run down there and fuck one of those cows. The old bull said…lets walk down there and fuck them all. I was going to try and make Cindy enjoy it as much as I was. I was going in slow motion when Cindy said, “Can you go a little faster? It feels better when you do.” I’ll say it felt better. The feeling was so good that I started to cum inside of her. Cindy just held me tighter and said, “Go for it. I’ll enjoy it more after a few more times.” A few more times…wow! Miss Jones asked, “Which one do you want, Donna?” Donna said, “I’ll take her.” Both girls got out of bed and they were both naked. Miss Jones pulled me back to her bed and Donna climbed on Cindy’s bed. Miss Jones started to kiss, lick, and suck on my cock to clean it off. I watched Donna doing the same thing to Cindy’s pussy. I was getting oral sex and Donna was giving Cindy oral sex. When Miss Jones was done with me she said, “Go get some sleep. We can do this again tomorrow night.” I slept like a baby. That day whenever I got the chance I kissed Cindy or felt her up. She exposed more of her butt crack for me. She shifted her top in the water on purpose to show me her boobs. I liked the water because I could finger her pussy as much as I wanted too and no one knew. Donna and Miss Jones let me finger their pussies too but only if no one else was around. Miss Jones was the one that got Cindy to seduce me. She liked young boys and I was the youngest one under her care. That night when I snuck into the girl’s room it was Miss Jones that greeted me. Cindy was asleep and so was Donna. I got to make love to Miss Jones three times before she sent me back to my room. Miss Jones loved sex and she kept sucking me hard so that we could fuck some more. Her mouth was great but she always wanted me in her pussy and she wanted me to cum in her too. I got to play with her breasts all that I wanted too. The third night Cindy was awake and I got to cum inside her but then I had to cum inside Donna too. I even managed to cum inside Miss Jones before I could go back to my own bed. The rest of the summer was spent doing things all day and then fucking the three girls for half of the night. We were all exhausted but none of us wanted to stop our nocturnal activities. When we were all taken to the train station to head home each girl whispered in my ear that she had missed her last period. I got messages from Cindy and Donna that nature had struck. We were all thankful. Miss Jones however was not so lucky. I had gotten her pregnant. At least she was an adult and didn’t have to tell anyone who the father was. I got a picture every month to show me how big her belly was getting. Then after little Cindy Donna was born I got pictures of them both every month. Mom saw a few of the pictures and asked me who she was. I replied, “The camp nurse.” When Mom asked me why she was sending pictures to me I replied, “She asked me to be the godfather.” Mom smiled and said, “Oh, I was hoping that you were the father.” I asked, “Why?” Mom said, “Because the camp nurse is beautiful and besides that baby looks just like you did at that age.” Mom was perfectly honest. picspornzocwj.blogspot.com She and I had gotten closer since their divorce had been finalized. So I said, “In that case, I am the father. The other two girls got their periods after they went home.” Mom said, “You lucky boy. You got to fuck three girls all summer long. All I did was fuck your father and not in the good way either.” We invited Miss Jones and my baby to come and live with us. She accepted. I got to take care of Mom’s sexual needs as well as Miss Jones’ sexual needs. The three of us took care of Cindy Donna’s needs. Miss Jones became our school nurse so that she could set me up with more girls my age. However, I really liked older women like her and my mother. Word eventually got around that Miss Jones and I were an item. The school board had an issue with that though. She pointed out that I was listed as the father of her child when she filled out her application. There was nothing that they could do about it. We had a prior relationship, a child together, and they knew all about it when they hired her. After I graduated from high school I married Miss Jones. It was funny having a child in kindergarten while I was a senior in high school. The End The Camp Nurse 679