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scribblesofanaricat · 4 years

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Kaleidoscope Icarus

(big thank you to Toni for helping me with parts of this)

Alone in bed. Covers twitch. Clock hands rattle around their beaten path and I count it backwards. A meander towards oblivion.

I see my reflection blink. It must like watching me thrash in blue sleep.

Narrow staircase, no socks, tea bag fossils pinned to the wall, I count them up, all six, any colour I like as long as that colour is yellowish grey.

I inhale indifferent coffee broth with a side order of whichever death cult the screen hunched in the corner is serving up today. Bidding its junkies a good afternoon and then meting out a lethal dose of contradictions. It beats down on me as a sun would: simple, forcible, inevitable, ordained.

I’m not Icarus.

Even so, quick fears still tread on my heels after I kill the show and instead pay a call to the frosted-glass moon low in that blank page of a sky. Shoes dangling over a railway bridge, one a lovely Twitter-blue, lemon laces trailing like a severed leash, the other was once violet. Jaundiced glances from pedestrians and passengers cursing the back of my neck.

They plant themselves beside me because where else would they go? We don’t say much, never do, “our glass roots were love when lilac liquids flowed invisible” and “my powdered soul occurs from sun sight with figure flames and smoke” and “if we lose time by staring freely and counting sound, you’re told about it accidentally”, that sort of thing. And we do submerge our long short hours in staring freely and we do count sound since we’re not the type to move mountains, although young by our own reckoning. We know it - or we think we know.

Amongst foggy vows to meet again tomorrow, they clear off and I’m left with the grains of my own soul, the static in my skull, wearing it like a flannel shirt. House prices. Affairs. Break-ins, breakouts. Blares of ‘protect our free speech, protect our children!’ born from whatever illusory agenda they’re being warned against by the king agenda-pushers this time...another monologue from another plastic jack-in-office here to fuck us around...

Sometimes I could carve it all into my skin with a dirty needle and not flinch.

We end up huddled like penguins in the fug heaving around my room. We’d have thought the dawn of the end times would look different, something that’d be splattered over our calendars and marked in history. Instead we’re met with a whitewashed wall from the screens and newshounds even as we watch it happen in 3D. Nothing to do now but wait.

‘I don’t give a damn.’ They’re flung down on their stomach, right arm stowed under an Everest of pillows and left arm glancing off the carpet. ‘I don’t care, I couldn’t...we’re gonna flatline someday soon and we’ll nosedive into Hell and I’d still take that over this shit…I’ve got to see that ocean again, though...just one last time…’

‘Mhm.’ I’m stiff. Stiff yet floaty. The screen crouches there, rattling off a story from America about some toupeed sore loser being forcibly dragged out of the White House with the boot of millions tattooed on his arse. Let them have their pipe dream, let them have their ocean, their fickle friend with its brackish spray, rolling pulse, delusive serenity, useless but to go to your watery grave in… if I scorn it hard enough, I can almost smell it.

I outstretch my rusty arms, gathering the ceiling in a remote embrace, and begin to narrate. ‘After the downfall from the empty pages of a multitude, myths started to creep back through the gaps in the world we saw. They’d been driven feet-first out of society by the threat of extinction long ago and so they’d had to hide themselves away over the rooms of sighs they found.’ The haze seethes and swirls, fashioning hieroglyphs from my breath.

They shift beside me, breathe it in. Counting sound. I survey it all as they draw it down into their lungs and bloodstream - giants and Lilliputians, fae and demons, sister ships sleeping in spoken hiding places, uman babies feeding off a wolf who bares her teeth at us. And Icarus. Taking to the air, lured by the glare that swallowed all else and eagerly drinking it down, until he fell so far and so fast that nobody could save him.

Not like us. We won’t be led astray. We are not the imperfect sight, crimped, bought with ballads.

‘But their memories were long and their bloodlust ran deep as trembling nails. And whatever scraps of human society were left had their turn to hide, or to pose as something different - pretend to be one thing when they were really another, in case they were in line for the wrath of their former fantasies.’

I recline on my mountaintop carpet in the soupy silence after my short tale gives out, waiting. Waiting perhaps for a flashbulb of understanding or for guesses at regions of dry ideas. The clock shudders into its next aspect. Bonded pattern, distorted mosaic.

‘C’n we go to th’ocean?’ is what they exhale at length. I lie there. Head sagging into my chest. Dead rain of a crowd. And then I patter on about spume and pulse and deceit, and about rock shadows standing full at Phoenician attestations, and by God, it’s like reading a bedtime story (or maybe an aloof comedy) to a toddler and almost as easy.

So we sprout in the bleary armchair of the ocean. Coast and universe falling away like a house of cards beneath our shoeless steps. They ask pinch-eyed if I brought a laptop along with me (of course I didn’t; the world watches us out of the corner of its panoramic eye enough as it is) and seem satisfied with my answer. I droop backwards so the rocks can catch me, mendacious as the water - that slumbering giant - but in the opposite direction, downside up. I have to wonder if the sky could be the same way, or if it’s merely everything and nothing. The aridity of all.

A boat worms along the horizon, eats it up inch by inch. That old static begins to pulsate against the core of my head, guessing at who or what could be in there. The newest pet of the media, pockets padded with the benefits from yesterday’s public-spirited stunt, familiarising themself with the bits of fruit floating in the middle of an etched glass and awaiting the casting call for yet another lone hero who’s the only force insulating their precious homeland from the evils of truth and the nefarious threat of equality.

Maybe a consortium of sallow flesh and bloated eyes, red as tongues of flame yet seeing only in black and white, skin honeycombed with pinprick holes. They give and take manufactured fairy tales that accelerate their enslavement, fire their last magic bullet together in a binding act of mercy.

Or a smoke-bearded fisherman and his helpmate with salt water in their veins, in their stirring times; they haul up their meshwork and inspect its captives. Look at these beauties, they marvel every time, a record dashing against its broken needle like a baby bird against a window. Or something - I don’t fucking know what fishermen talk about. Are there fishermen anymore? I guess there must be.

As I study the vessel, purling with the wind, it metamorphoses fitfully into a whale. Its heaving back is encrusted with arthropods. Plunging its way into nowhere. Watch through unchartered eyes as its tail heaves up into the air, blotting out the sun, before it too plunges beneath the depths, beneath the waves, into the dark, dark blue-grey murmurs and untapped power of the abyss. I wonder what sort of watery graves still dwell there, trapped, locked in and locked out. The corpse of a ship. The corpse of a whale.

The sun dissolves into the horizon, spilling its aureate blood over the sea-shaped cemetery. I drink it in; it comes out in puffs of icy white. The smouldering glare lances across my eyes, burning, gnawing. I close them. I breathe cold.

My wax wings splinter. But will not melt.

Their pixelated face reappears above my own, sun’s gore cleaving to their hair with a shimmer, and jab me with a bone. And we trudge back over clumps of sand, the world brightening and darkening, brightening and darkening. The light parts liquefy like butter in a pan, overflowing, flowing, flowing until there’s no more left to flow. Until it evaporates and its burnished blush is briskly replaced by glitter and dazzle and tiny flickers of rainbow bouncing off little jewels.

I breathe warmth. The radio goes on at me, goes on, goes on, a webspinner sniping its threads.

Time hangs suspended for the lion’s share of the night. Screens paralysed in an eternal moment. The masked puppets on one side, me on the other. They dance, bow, spin on wire strings. They get tangled. They do not move any longer. Asides from the occasional twitch and twist, as weak as that of a dying deer caught in the scheming beauty of the headlights. They do not get free. Eventually they too are still.

I move onwards.

We separate then, me and them. Their fingers dance in the air as the light of the sky slips through the cracks of the earth. ‘We’re completely and irreversibly fucked.’ It’s somewhere between question and statement. I watch them droop away, hands tucked in pockets of woven clouds and leather, until the night embraces them and their shadow melts much like the light had. Tipped-over oil, trickling away.

I watch. I wait. I breathe.

I move onwards.

The wet earth slumps when I step upon it, its cold breathing into the soles of my worn shoes. I look towards the sky, up and up and up, so far that I cannot see. The sun has sunk, withered away. Gone. Gone and perhaps never to return. You never know. Never know.

The moon is rising now, the stars winking like oh so much spilled glitter. I see the sun's reflection here, its beaming glow bouncing off the pale white surface of the small planet as though it were an alien mirror. This is how you know it's there, even when it’s faded away. Gone but never quite so.

But its blazing heat is no longer here to thwart me, even if its glimmer is still present. I spread my wax wings. I breathe, I live, I rise, I die. That wet earth hums its lullaby of little critters, chirping crickets and twittering bats and the frozen old breath of ghosts long dead. Disdainful wind freezes my nose and lips and ears. I soar…

I am not Icarus.

The dark sky cradles me like black ocean water. The shimmers of light are fish, sparkling beneath the waves, the moon their only beacon. My only beacon. I breathe warmth in the cold night air. Prickles of goosebumps along the skin of my arms and legs. I am the warmth, but the cold consumes me slowly.

I float lazily, there and not there, alive and dead, warm and cold. An angel on wax wings, a ghost long dead and gone, a corpse at the bottom of the ocean. Fuck. I breathe a disclaimer of disaster, a rage against the remorseless. I breathe warmth, then cold, then nothing. Just to double check.

The golden-white glimmers of school fish trail past, streaks of astigmatic light. The moon smiles down at me, a comforting glow. A lantern hung by gods of old on invisible chains. The mirror of the sun. The dancing partner of the earth. The lighthouse of the sea.

My beacon in the sky.

It does not melt my wings. I am not Icarus.

I soar. On and on, the sparkling sky, the gentle sea. The land leaves me far behind, the twinkle of city lights fading into nothing but open waters, open skies. Nothing but starlights. Nothing but moonlight.

There is nothing waiting for me. Fuck. They have melted into the shadows, slipped like dry sand between fingers, like dry sand in an hourglass, like water in a hole-littered bucket. It is only me and the star speckled sky. Me and the moon.

I'm not sure how long I stay, floating between schools of sparkling starfish. Slowly, the moon rises…falls…and the sun creeps up behind me like a monster in a cave, turning the sky from black to blue…green…then spilling yellow, melted butter, sunstreaked blood across the horizon, its burning light warming my frozen cheeks…soothing my goosebumps…the black sea once more becomes its sparkling blue-ish green. Fuck. The stars fade like fleeing fish and vanishing ghosts. I breathe cold into the warmth.

My wax wings drip in the light. The sunlight burns my eyes, searing my retina, boiling my cornea. I squeeze them shut. I wobble and sway, a dance in the sunrise. I dance, bow, spin on wire strings and liquid wings. I become tangled. I tumble down a narrow staircase, no socks, teabag fossils pinned to the wall.

Wind sighs in my ears. I see my reflection blink in the waves far below. It must like watching me thrash in yellow dreams. The world beats down on me as the sun is now; simple, forcible, inevitable, ordained. The world crumbles around me, earth cracking, water roaring, sky tearing and tearing like shreds of paper in the hands of scissor-happy children. I am a puppet on broken strings and I am falling with nothing but the frigid embrace of the ocean to catch me, where the whale-ship corpse sleeps. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. I breathe and it is cold. The sun blazes like a beacon. It is life. It is the death cult and that fear tingles down my spine.

A shoe of lovely Twitter-blue falls free, lemon laces flapping wildly. I outstretch my rusty arms, as though to catch it like a ball during playtime in the schoolyard, swamped in the too-big uniform of bright purple, a blazer that fell well past my knees. But I cannot catch myself.

I’m falling.

Falling, falling, falling like Icarus.

#my scribbles #mine #tw language #tw drug mention #tw self harm mention #tw existential crisis #tw death mention #long scribble #original writing #writeblr #wow that's a lot of tags

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kinetic-elaboration · 4 years

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December 29: The Wrath of Khan

Today’s movie watching was Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan.

My overall impression versus TMP is that this is clearly a smoother and more consistently entertaining film. It has a definite story with very little filler, good pacing, a lot of great little dialogue and character moments, and a strong conflict at its center.

But its sci fi bona fides are much weaker. Like by a lot.

Mom and I are talking a bit about Genesis and the more we talk, the weaker it appears to me. First, it’s not really as believable, imo, as a lot of Star Trek. Maybe it’s because it’s not alien based, but I just have a harder time suspending disbelief to think this is possible. Second, it’s not clear why anyone thought this was a good idea. I mean, as McCoy immediately pointed out, it just seems so CLEARLY dangerous: an object meant to foster creation that could so easily be the worst weapon the universe has ever known--nothing could go awry there! Third, the reason for creating such a device isn’t obvious at all. Carol mentions the “growing population” and “food scarcity” but nothing we’ve ever seen of the Federation implies they’re running out of space. Or, frankly (Tarsus IV aside), food. And fourth, there really isn’t any point to Genesis in all its particulars in this film. Like, obviously, its actual purpose is a plot device to resurrect Spock. Within just this film, it doesn’t do anything. Khan wants it, for some reason I’ve already forgotten even though I just saw the film, and he gets it, but I didn’t even notice that happening, because it was so unimportant. His REAL mission is his single minded revenge fantasy on Kirk. Genesis is just a McGuffin/space filler/plot device for the next film.

And honestly that’s not such a big deal, except that when you compare it to TMP, ,and its central idea of a human made probe that gained so much knowledge, doing what we taught it to do, that it became sentient and then started searching for the meaning of life, and how this relates to the search for meaning experienced by the main alien lead, and how his search, in that film and throughout the series, is a mirror for humans and OUR need for purpose... well it just seems really weak. “We made this really dangerous and unrealistic thing for no reason whoops!”

Mom is now criticizing Kirk for being too slow on the uptake when he first encounters the Reliant, which is fair. That’s pretty OOC of him. The idea that he’s too old for space is both one that I must personally disregard, and one that the film would have you discard, since we’ve already heard from TWO characters, the people who know him best, that his best destiny is as a starship captain, and command is his proper role. And that he might be a little rusty is also not a great explanation imo, because the rust was supposed to have come off in TMP. So, plot hole probably.

We were trying to do some math--TMP is at least 2 years post 5YM and TWOK is at least 10 years post TMP, so at least 8 years post TMP. I can understand more rust growing but like... he was already an Admiral in TMP and the idea that he was out of practice with actual command was a big part of his arc there. So it doesn’t seem warranted to do that again.

Also, the way he was commanding poorly in TMP was very IC: he was pushing too hard, trying too much, caring too much about the mission and not enough about...the laws of physics. That’s very Kirk. Being slow on the uptake, caught with his britches down--that’s not Kirk. Plus, with no one to call him out on it, like Decker did in TMP, his poor command doesn’t seem like a big character obstacle to overcome but just like...sloppiness all around.

I thought Khan was over all... just not that interesting. I guess I’m just not into the obsession/revenge plot. Also...idk man he didn’t seem that super to me. He outsmarted Kirk, like, once, and Kirk outsmarted him like 4 times. He tortured some people--but regular humans can do that. He used those sandworm thingies, which is also something humans could do. Overall, he didn’t seem to have any particularly special skills. The only time he really seemed like a worthy adversary for Kirk was when Kirk wasn’t really being IC himself.

I’m also not into the fridging of his wife. Think how much cooler it would have been if she’d still been alive! The only non-super human in the bunch and she’s still there! Ex-Starfleet and bitter!

The K/S in this film is very soothing. Imo they are clearly together here, and the whole film is better if you assume they’re boyfriends and everyone knows. That Vulcan convo that Spock and Saavik have? Waaaaay funnier if you think she’s talking about his boyfriend (”not what I expected....very human” “Well no one’s perfect”). Every time they call each other ‘friend’ like ““friend”“? All the Looks? The birthday gift?

Also the “I have been and always shall be your [friend]” scene is a wedding I will not be taking criticism on this opinion. Could it have been written more like a vow? I think not. It’s not quite This Simple Feeling but it’s the best this film has in that regard.

I liked Saavik and I do think she’s one of the better later-movie additions (though I only like her, as far as I can remember, when played by Kirstie Alley). She didn’t necessarily strike me as super alien, though, at least not at first... But I appreciated how persistent she was about the stupid test, and her regulation quoting. I enjoyed her. I also liked how she was obviously Spock’s protege, which makes her Kirk’s step-protege, and they had just a little bit of that awkward dynamic going on. (”Did you change your hair?”)

The Bones and Kirk relationship was great in this film. You can really feel their friendship and their history with each other. Bones knows him so well and can be honest with him, just when Kirk needs it most.

I also love how Kirk has the SAME conversation with both Bones and Spock (re: being a captain again) but with Spock it’s sooooo much flirtier. In case you weren’t sure what the difference in these two relationships is.

Bonus: this bit of dialogue: Spock: “Be careful, Jim.” / Bones: “WE will.” Lol Spock people who aren’t your boyfriend do exist.

Obviously, I cried during THAT scene. Honestly AOS should have taken note about how to do emotional scenes like that: they come after the main action is over and the villain is defeated. Then they hit at the right time and to the right degree. Kirk just slumping down after Spock dies....like he’s boneless...like he doesn’t know what to do... I CANNOT.

I feel so bad for him that I’ll even forgive him that awful eulogy. Spock died for Genesis? Uh, no, he died for the Enterprise, and for YOU. Spock is the “most human”? You shut your whoreson mouth

I remember hating both Carol and David but I actually hated them less this time, Carol especially. My mom is being really harsh about her, though, which makes me feel less confident in my assessment. I mean first off, she’s the inventor of Genesis, which is a pretty big strike against her. Second...pretty lame to keep Kirk from David. Although I did some vague math and Kirk would only have been about 21, still in the Academy, when David was born, so you can see how that would work out. Also, she distinctly says “Were we together?” which means they were not--this was a fuck buddy arrangement for sure. More complicated. But it still feels weird to retcon that, like, he’s known THIS WHOLE TIME that he’s a dad and we’re only learning about it now, as an audience.

Anyway I’m getting off track. Carol. What to make of her? Is she unstable? Is she still mad at Kirk? My mom points out that she just decided on her own that David would want to join Starfleet if he knew Kirk was his father--whereas what seems to have happened instead is he didn’t just become a civilian scientist like his mom but became her specific protege--working on a project where everyone was probably handpicked by her? I would assume? Also..he hates Starfleet. Not to put everything on the mom, but how did that happen?

Also...going down the rabbit hole of this and feeling awkward about it... but David KNEW Kirk. As “that guy you hung around with.” That means Kirk was in his life for quite a while, long enough for him to have memories, and long enough for those memories to still be with him even into his 20s. But he was never allowed to know who Kirk was. That means Carol’s rule must have been “You can see your son but you can’t tell him who you are” which in some way seems meaner to me than just “please don’t contact us again.” If he was already on his way into space, that could even make sense--”I know you’re not going to be able to be a family with us, so let’s not pretend, let’s make a clean break now.” But that wasn’t what happened!

Anyway whatever not to be HAICG!Kirk about this or anything lol

David is mostly annoying because he’s so anti-Kirk lol. I found him least annoying when he came around to Kirk at the end. Another big strike against him: he wore his sweater tied over his shoulders in such a Preppy manner. I honestly don’t see what about him is supposed to be reminiscent of Kirk.

David/Saavik was definitely happening lol. I wish I could have heard that conversation. It sounds like she told him a lot!!! Not sure why she attached herself to this particular annoying human so fast but I guess she did.

....I think that might be all. The uniforms and general styling were much better than TMP (though less funny/entertaining), and it was certainly an enjoyable overall yarn. A lot to pick apart and critique but in a fun way. Will probably watch The Search for Spock soon.

#the year 2020 #2020: star trek #2020: fandom thoughts #star trek tos

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norahnightsbane · 4 years

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Prompt #14: Part

“Mommy, I don’t WANT to go!” Greta clung to their mother’s leg, tears streaming from her big, beautiful eyes. Shinorah swallowed, trying her best to be brave. She didn’t want to go either, but at fourteen she was too old to cry about it. Instead she was trying hard to be brave enough for both of them. For all of them - she’d heard the sobs coming from her parents’ room the last two nights, her’s mother’s anguish and her father’s pain.

“Gerhart, we *MUST*. They will not be safe here. The Imps are right on their doorstep, and there’s no hope. Surely you remember the stories of Gildenburg, what happened when the city fell?”

“NO. That will not happen here. These are modern times, and this is Ala Mhigo. The Empire - they wouldn’t. They - much as I hate to say it, they *need* us. They won’t put us all to the sword.” His voice wavered, though, betraying the confidence of his words.

“But WHAT IF”, Mathilde replied, firm and - for one of the only times he could remember - with a hint of fear in her voice. This woman, who won his heart in a duel, who didn’t flinch after four unmedicated childbirths, war in the Shroud, or Anything he could ever remember. And suddenly - he heard fear in her voice. That scared him more than the impending invasion. “What if they do. We don’t KNOW. They bear no love for us, not now, the Gridanians less. If we don’t get the girls out now, we may never get another chance.” She choked, her voice cracking. “I...heard through one of my networks they’re already working on a wall. They mean to trap us here.”

“Mattie, mein liebchen, those are rumors. They’re not real. Surely the Senate would have heard news of a Wall, for Rhalgr’s sake.” He said the words, but again without conviction. Would they have? The Senate used to have more power, but under the Mad King was a joke - a courtesy offered to the Old Families so they didn’t overthrow him, but with no actual power. Would they have heard this news? He couldn’t say anymore.

“We must, Ger. We need to think about them, not us. I don’t want to lose them either. Not my baby girl....but this is the last caravan out. We have no choice.”

He paused, listening. His wife’s words rang true. Their oldest son was already fighting in whatever left of Abania’s military, and their younger son - well, that was another whole complicated matter entirely. He shook his head, pangs of regret for his harsh words, his stubborn unwillingness to understand. But - nothing to be done for that now. They didn’t even know where Jeffron was anymore. He said a quick prayer to the God of Destruction, praying to keep their son safe. All their children.

“I...I just....let me think on it some more, ja? Another night.”

“No”, Mathilde interjected, her voice sympathetic but also firm. It’s clear her mind was made up. “There is no more time. The caravan leaves in two days, at dawn. And there are arrangements to be made.” She paused, grabbing his hand and staring into her husband’s eyes. “Do you think this is any easier for me, mein Wolfen? I carried those girls in my belly, nearly died bearing Greta....our last, my baby girl”. Her voice cracked again, and she cut off her words as she blinked rapidly and tried to swallow through the sobs building in her throat. “You know how wars can be. Conquerors. You know....” She lowered her voice, barely a whisper. “You know what some of our own damn men did to the girls in the Shroud villages....is THAT what you’d want for ours?” There was a caged fury in her voice, the Lioness’s wrath buried in the whisper.

“No, no, of course not.” But she knew her words had hit home. Mathilde nodded, knowing the decision had been made even if he hadn’t said it yet. “I will send word. We’ll tell the girls tomorrow, and Jossen too, and prepare their things.”

“I hope we’re doing the right thing” Gerhart whispered, a pain he’d never felt welling up in his chest, mingling with the pit of dread in his stomach. “I will tell them - Norah will take it better hearing it from me. She’ll understand - she won’t like it, but she’s always done her duty for the family.”

A young girl stood in the hallway, clad in a flannel dressing gown and with a blanket thrown around her shoulders like a shawl - green eyes wide as saucers as she held up a glass against the door of her parents’ room. Sending us away...? She had so many questions, and the teenager in her rebelled against the idea - but she kept thinking about the giant magitek ships hovering outside the city, their shapes monstrous, terrifying and alien. She thought about the words her mother said, about things happening to girls in the Shroud. She didn’t know what things her mother meant, not exactly, but they sounded awfully bad and they frightened her. The voices had dropped so low now that even the glass couldn’t help her, so she tiptoed quietly back to her room, laying in her bed and blinking at the ceiling for the rest of the night. Any other night, this might have sounded like a Grand Adventure. But now, in the dark of night, with her parents afraid and giant mechanical monsters in the sky raining fire and ash upon them all, it didn’t sound like an adventure at all. It sounded frightening, and she didn’t want to be frightened anymore. She curled up in a ball and cried softly to herself, clutching a small stuffed griffon to her chest, and did her best to make sure the cries were so quiet that nobody would here. She had to be brave - for the family.

.......

“Greta, come!” Shinorah said, whisking her baby sister and bouncing her on her hip. “This will be fun! It will be a Grand Adventure! I know you’re sad, but we’ll see Mommy and Daddy before you know it! We’re not leaving for long, just a tiny little while! Right?” She gave a forced smile of false bravado that anyone but a small child could easily see through. Fortunately, Greta was a small child. “Now then, dry your eyes, it’s time to go. Tell Mommy and Daddy you love them.” Greta nodded, wiping her eyes with small, eight-year old fists and saying, “I love you Mommy. I love you Daddy.” Shinorah hugged her tight, whispering, “That’s our girl! Greta, you are so brave! What a proud Nachsieger you are, mein Taubchen!” She turned to her parents, swallowing hard and gasping for air so the tears stayed down, choking them back into her chest by pure will. “Mum, Dadda - we’ll see you soon, right?” She smiled again, and her parents could see the slender fourteen year old doing everything she could to hold it together. They werne’t much better - brave smiles, her mother’s knuckles white grasping her father’s hand and his jaw clenched so tight that she could see the muscles in his cheeks. “Of course, liebchen. Only a couple months. Just until this all passes”. They gave the girls a quick hug, and Norah felt something small pressed into her hand as her mother hugged her. “We’ll see you soon. Eweg und Immer, mein kinder. We will be with you ever and always.”

“We need to go!” the caravan master said. “There’s no more time. Come on.” Norah took one last look at her parents, her home, the only city she’d ever known....and then once more at the dark, terrible airships darkening the skies. “It’s time to depart, Greta. Time for adventure!” She looked back once more, waved, and then followed the caravan master off unto the unknown.

#ffxiv #ffxiv write 2020

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dreams-of-kalopsia · 5 years

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Snowball Effect

Summary: Lance may have been the one to throw the alien snowball that set off the snowball war between him and Pidge, but it was Pidge’s alien snowball that ended it by incurring Allura’s wrath. Now the two were stuck in a planet blanketed entirely by snow, forced to make up and work together. Could it get any worse? Yes. Yes, of course.

A @voltronsecretsanta2k19 fic for @nessajjewell, who requested a snowball fight. Belated happy holidays, Nessa!

Read it on AO3.

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Part 1: Snowball War

Lance and Pidge liked each other.

Team Voltron knew that. The rebel forces and Blades had an inkling. The liberated sections of the universe had some speculations. Maybe even the Galra suspected—a dangerous possibility to consider, but not so unlikely.

Yet those two had no idea, and no one could quite understand how they managed to keep themselves so clueless.

It was frustrating, really. As much of a genius Pidge was, she didn’t know much about matters like relationships. And as people-smart as Lance was, he sure was stupidly oblivious to matters involving him. Two years of living together in the Castle and at least one year of pining for each other… Hunk could only watch in agony as he waited for them to finally see the feelings they’d been trying in vain to hide.

Sometimes, Keith wished those two would just… fight. Like have a big, disastrous fight. That way, they could finally end things and start anew, like the soil after a forest fire. But they were stubborn people and they loved each other too much to let go; they were at an impasse, stuck between friendship and love. Keith wasn’t poetic at all, but he would probably start waxing poetic about those two’s not-so-complicated relationship before they ever realize that the other liked them back.

Then one day, the Ancients sent an alien suitor from the ice planet of Syrma to put the two Paladins’ relationship to the test. Instead of rising up to the challenge, however, the young Blue Paladin decided to make a move most disappointing. He threw a compacted ball of frozen debris—a ‘snowball’, if Coran remembered correctly—at the Green Paladin’s face. Thus began what the other Paladins had dubbed the Snowball War. And what a war it had been.

Shiro had tried to separate Pidge and Lance physically as much as possible, giving one tasks inside the Castle while the other finished tasks outside. But Lance was popular with the children of Syrma, and Pidge, along with Hunk, was needed by the engineers to repair the Syrmi spacecraft. That kept them within the same vicinity, allowing Pidge to exact her ruthless revenge on Lance and for Lance to indignantly fight back. The two fought relentlessly during the whole stay on the planet. They stopped talking to each other, stopped eating together with everyone, stopped being near each other except to start hurling snowballs. Pidge and Lance’s behavior was fraying on Shiro’s patience at an alarming rate, and he wasn’t sure which of them would snap first.

It may have been Lance’s Syrmi ‘snowball’ that started this war between him and Pidge, but it was Pidge’s ‘snowball’ that ended it by incurring Allura’s wrath. Allura had been strolling with the Syrmi elder Vir, exploring the winter vines in the gardens, when a speeding ‘snowball’ almost hit the elder’s nape. After catching it, locating the culprit—Pidge—and the target—Lance—she politely asked for two long vines then used her magic to simultaneously restrain the two Paladins.

“Wha—? Allura, I’m the victim here! Pidge should be the only one tied up!” Lance pretested.

Pidge looked at her apologetically. “I’m sorry, Allura and Vir. That snowball wasn’t meant for Vir. Lance should’ve known better than to dodge—”

“Anyone would dodge on instinct seeing something with that much force—”

“ENOUGH!” Allura bellowed.

Most of the villagers had gathered to spectate, worrying no doubt about the strength of the Paladins’ bond and by extension that of Voltron. But she didn’t care about that that right now. These two were sorting out their feelings before Voltron’s next fight no matter what.

“This has gone on for long enough.” She regarded them severely. “I’m sending you both on a mission with two tasks. You will say five things you dislike about each other and find five ways you can compromise, and you will protect each other and survive together.” She turned in search for the other Paladins, finding Shiro and Hunk close by. “Shiro, Hunk, please escort Pidge and Lance back to the Castle.” They nodded sullenly, pulling at the other two struggling against their viny restraints.

Once the four Paladins had disappeared into Black, and Black into the Castle, Allura faced the people of Syrma. “I must apologize for the unruly behavior of the Blue and Green Paladins.”

Vir joined her in front. “Think nothing of it, Princess. Discord stems from the refusal to understand each other. It seems that your Paladins merely misunderstand the other’s motives, and not by choice.”

A tired sigh escaped Allura. “You’re right, Vir. Rest assured that the Paladins of Voltron will prevail over their enemies, even themselves.”

“May this help with that.” Vir handed her a device showing coordinates to a dwarf planet. “We teach and master our ice magic on snow before we try to control ice, lest we risk harm to ourselves and others. No one should be there at this time. Take your Paladins; they shall be free to roam and complete their mission without disturbance.”

Allura put a hand over the elder’s, giving her most heartfelt thanks. “We’ll be back.”

“Worry not. I know you shall return soon.”

#voltronsecretsanta2k19 #voltron secret santa #nessajjewell #voltron #plance #hope you like it!#if you have an ao3 account i'd like to gift it to you properly!#^u^#writings

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witharsenicsauce · 5 years

Text

Chosen Stories From the War #9: Mourning Has Passed

“Bhandasura.”

The old, withered alien let his robes drop to the floor, the cold searing his frail body as the air hit his fragile skin. He turned to face the woman in the bed, glowing copper under the fluorescent lights. “I am here, Abyzou.”

She reached out one of her long, taloned hands toward him, and he drifted closer. He knew she could see him despite their lack of eyes. He took her hand and pulled himself closer to her, hovering over her body.

“I dreamt of them.” She whispered in his mind, her forehead in the crook of his neck. “Our children.”

“Which ones?” He asked, reaching for her bony fingers. They were cold to the touch. “You cannot sleep without your blankets, Zou.” He said as he pulled the coverings up around her body. “You’ll catch a chill again.”

“I grow so hot at night.” She said. “The fevers get worse and worse.”

“Which ones did you dream of?” He asked again, turning over to gaze at her. She was thinner than him and Camazotz, but her mind glowed deeply red with psionic power, greater than theirs combined.

“The youngest ones.” She said. “Vox Prima. And Vox Zagre.”

He was silent still.

“Do you believe the rumors?” She tossed away the covers and rose, hovering off the ground, her delicate feet never touching the floor.

“If they were alive, we would know.” Bhandasura tried to assure her, but he could feel her getting worked up. “Zou-”

“If they are alive, they wouldn’t betray us, would they?” She clasped two of her hands together, and let the others hang, fidgeting in the air. “They would come back.”

Bhandasura was silent for a moment.

“Because if they did...if they betrayed us…” She fell silent, and he could hear her thoughts. She was screaming deep within her mind, screaming in fear and anger.

“...Why would they?” Bhandasura asked. That was a stupid question. He knew why. But Abyzou did not.

Suddenly, she turned on him. “Vox Nergal has been disobedient!”

“He...has been struggling.” Bhandasura held up his hands. “We all struggle, do we not, Zou?”

“Do you know who does not struggle?” She lunged towards him, her claws out. “The Ascended Ones, Bhanda! They do not struggle! They simply exist! They SIMPLY BE!” She lifted her claws, clenching her fingers in open fists.

“But we have not ascended, Abyzou.” He reached for her arms and pulled her close to him.

“If Dhar-Mon turns on us…” Abyzou said, laying her head on his shoulder “I want you to tear him apart. Make him feel the pain his Beloved Mother feels.”

Bhandasura felt his barely beating heart grow heavy.

“Promise me.”

“I promise.” He pressed a cold, lanky hand on her bony back. “I love you, Abyzou.”

He heard her giggle.

Malinalli stood in the doorway of Commander Senuna’s quarters. She was still getting ready for the day, sitting on her bed in a silk nightgown, her hair back in a bun. Malinalli wondered how she managed to tie her hair so neatly when she had so much of it…

“Good morning, Molly.” Senuna looked at her with glittering eyes.

“Good morning, Madam.” Malinalli saluted her. “I’m sorry for intruding…”

“Nonsense! You are welcome any time!” She stood―well, practically leapt―from her bed. “Pardon my indecency!”

“It’s okay…” Malinalli stepped inside. “Have you...gotten a team together for the Stronghold mission?”

“I have, actually.” Senuna let her hair down, the white locks spilling over her shoulders like water. “After a...friendly chat with Geist, he’s agreed to lend us a couple of Templars for the mission! We’re going to stop off at Carthage to pick them up, and then we’ll head straight for Italy.”

“Oh…” She nodded. “And…?”

“Let’s see...Well, Tiwaz. After his good work on the Hunter case, he’ll be there.”

“And a hacker?”

“No, I want to save them for a special occasion. Besides, I think the Templars will have that old coffin of his in their clutches before the Warlock can curse my name!” She giggled. “Oh! I will be sending a medic down. After what happened with Gur-Rai, well, you can never be too careful!”

“Oh…” Malinalli said again. “...Um, would you like me to be the medic unit, Madam?”

“Absolutely not.” Senuna nearly cut her off with how quickly she whirled around. “I’m planning to send Lothar, but I would send Tygan himself down there before I put you into the line of fire.”

Malinalli felt desperation, fear and a deep anger rising in her chest. “Madam...can I ask why?”

“You can ask.” Senuna crossed her arms. “But I have my reasons, Malinalli.”

“The Warlock and I...have a connection.” Malinalli began.

“I know you do, and that’s partly why you are not going.” Senuna turned her back on the young nurse and began to rummage in her closet. “How can I trust that you would be safe, with your emotions clouding your judgement like that?”

“But I could get him to...we might not even need to fight him!” Malinalli protested. “If I was there, he might just leave! With us.”

“We tried that with Kon-Mai and she tried to kill herself.” Senuna snapped.

“Kon-Mai and I weren’t bonded! She had no reason to listen to me! Dhar-Mon does!” Malinalli clasped her hands, like she was praying. “Madam, I’m begging you. Please.”

“Then beg.” She said. “It won’t change my mind.”

“What got you out of the tank?” Malinalli cried. “People who cared about you. People who were there to help. We can’t go in as an invasion force.” She held her arms out, and Senuna turned to look at her. “We need to go with the intent to help. And to heal.”

Senuna looked Malinalli in the eyes for a moment. Her expression was unreadable, but for a moment she smiled. “...You have your heart set on this.”

Malinalli nodded.

Senuna sighed, leaning her head against the closet door. “I was like you once. Heart so full of love…” She pulled her white cloak out and smoothed it down. “...I will put you on the mission. But. If you are injured…” She raised a brow. “The Warlock will be the one fearing my wrath.”

“I’ll be extra, extra careful, Madam!” Malinalli bowed. “Thank you! Thank you so so-!”

“That’s enough.” Senuna giggled. “Now, go get ready. You’re deploying soon.”

As Malinalli ran off, Senuna watched her with tears in her eyes.

Dhar-Mon opened his eyes, his head clouded and his skin still burning. He pressed a hand to his forehead, unable to tell if he was actually feverish or if that was just the warmth of his own body.

He rose to his feet, his attendants hanging outside his door, waiting for him, but always keeping him at arm's length. Dhar-Mon tried to disguise the pain in his body, how much he wanted to crumble as he walked, but each step he took made his limp more pronounced.

How desperately he wished for her touch, the warmth of the palm of her hand. He closed his eyes and put a hand over his chest. Dhar-Mon could feel each breath she took. The blood in her veins. The fire in her soul. Even now their heartbeats were as one.

“Malinalli.” He whispered, waiting for the universe to carry his call to her.

“Dhar-Mon!” He could hear her excited voice as though she was standing beside him.

He smiled. “...Are you well?”

“Oh, yeah! I’m feeling great!” She hesitated. “...XCOM is coming.”

“I know.”

“And...I’m coming with them.”

He gasped. “...You? You’re coming here?”

“Yeah, the Commander is letting me come along!” She sounded almost scared.

“...You know my Stronghold?”

“Uh, well..” She coughed. “...It’s in Italy.”

He sighed. “You have much to learn, little phantom. How will you find me?”

“Well I figure Italy isn’t that big so...just pick a direction and fly. If you see water, you’ve gone too far.”

He chuckled. “Do you know the City of Vatican Hill?”

“Vatican City? You live in Vatican City?!”

“Yes. The Apostolic Palace is the center of my stronghold.”

“I...You live in the Vatican?!” He could hear her laughing.

“What is funny about this? It is a great palace with many defensible-”

“No, no, it’s not funny, just…” She giggled again “that’s so cool.”

“...I see.” He hoped she couldn’t feel him blushing. Or smiling. “When shall I expect you?”

“In half a day. We’re stopping by the Templars first.”

He growled. “They are accompanying you…?”

“I know you don’t like them.” She sounded sympathetic “but the Commander insisted and...”

“It is fine.” He sighed. “Their presence is irrelevant, either way.”

“In that case, I’ll...see you in a bit?”

“Yes.” He smiled. “It will be nice to speak face to face.”

“Agreed!”

He felt her presence leave him, and thus straightened himself up and called his priests into the room.

*“At the 18th hour of the eve, bring the townspeople to the courtyard.”* He said. *“Tell them I have a message for them of great importance. About the future. And the Elders.”*

“Is Geist angry?” Malinalli said, leaning over to Tiwaz. The two followed the Commander down the ramp, trailing behind her as she stepped off the Skyranger and approached Geist with a smile. Geist, in contrast, stared at her with a look more bitter than bile.

“When is Geist NOT angry?” Tiwaz chuckled.

“I heard he meditates.”

“Maybe he needs to do it more.” Tiwaz straightened up as Senuna looked back at them.

“These are two of my best.” She smiled warmly. “Zachary ‘Tiwaz’ Clotilde, and Malinalli Zúñiga.”

Geist barely acknowledged them, and from the glint in Senuna’s eye, Malinalli wondered just what the Commander had said to Geist to get him to agree to the mission.

He gestured behind him, and three feminine figures stepped forward. “These three are the finest family I have to offer. The Harbingers of Dawn and Rebirth. Our Shieldmaidens.”

“Harbingers of Dawn.” Senuna looked thoroughly impressed as she gazed upon the three women. “What are your names?”

The first one who stepped forward had hair like obsidian, tied back tight behind her head in several looping braids, and skin the color of the deepest earth. A dark silver crown adorned her forehead, denoted with blue gems that matched with the intricate face paint she wore around her eyes. Her Templar robes looked ornate: black leather and deep blue silk

“I am Lawahiz Ahmad.” She said. “You will refer to me as Iabet. I am the head of the family of Harbingers.” She gestured to the girl beside her. “This is Saibh Ó Heidhin, but our name for her is Siv.”

The girl they saw beside her looked no older than 17, and her amber eyes were illuminated with a fire only matched by the blazing auburn color of her hair, which clashed against her pale skin. They could only see her face briefly though, as it was covered by the bright yellow hood of her Templar cloak. She looked up at them with annoyance, and seemed to roll her eyes. The woman on her left nudged her and said something in...Latin? Siv only grumbled.

“And finally…” Iabet’s eyes lit up with love as she looked at the last woman. “This is Luana Tornicasa. Tornike.”

The woman pulled down her purple hood and...took the XCOM soldiers by surprise. Despite her olive-tanned skin, she had bleached blonde hair that hung to her shoulders and thick, plump lips painted conspicuously purple. Beside the other Templars, she looked like a Barbie doll. But the look they saw in her soft, cold blue eyes as they gazed into them, told both Malinalli and Tiwaz that Tornike was not a woman to be fucked with.

“They are perfect!” Senuna clasped her hands together. “Are you three ready for an adventure?”

Geist turned to the three women. “You will be hunting the Warlock.”

Siv’s eyes lit up, only for her smile to fall as Senuna spoke up. “He is to be brought in alive if possible.”

“Why?” Iabet demanded. “We have no respect for that monster.”

“He’s not a monster-” Malinalli began to say, but Tiwaz quickly shushed her.

“I know this is quite hard.” Senuna smiled, a gleam in her eyes. “You all have been victimized by him more than once-”

“He has KILLED people!” Siv screamed.

“Well, I mean, haven’t we all?”

Siv pulled her hood down slightly so they could see her scowl. “If I should ever see him, it will be when he is writhing in agony at the tip of my blade!”

“Habe tus lingua!” Tornike lightly struck Siv on the back of the head. “Tu sic despiciens censenda est la Comandante.”

Malinalli strained her ears, barely making out the garbled, almost-Latin that Tornike spoke. Granted, Malinalli didn’t speak Latin herself, but she was also pretty sure “la Comandante” was Spanish.

Tornike looked to Iabet. “Perhaps, mia moglie, the Commander’s wishes would be wise to fulfill. After all, should we kill him, he will never have a chance to answer for his crimes.” She smiled. “Maybe a hundred years in a cell is a far more fitting punishment than immediate death.”

Malinalli wanted to protest, but this time she was smart, and kept her mouth shut.

Iabet thought for a moment. “...You are right more often than not, habibti.” She smiled. “If the Commander wills him to be captured alive, then I shall oblige.” She glared at Malinalli. “But my attacks shall not be gentle, and if he comes toward me, I will defend myself.”

Malinalli looked away and Senuna cheered, oblivious to her discomfort.

“Amazing!” Senuna stepped aside and gestured to the Skyranger. “Well, all aboard! Next stop, Vatican City!”

The Warlock stood still as his servants cloaked him in his ceremonial robes. They were simple: a deep, royal purple color with silver embroidery in Etheric words and symbols around the cuff of the sleeves, and hem of the robe. Underneath he wore only his black, mesh undersuit, fastening everything with a silver belt.

He looked down at his servants and, for the first time perhaps, noticed their faces. They may have been human once, but the scales on their cheekbones and their lizard-like eyes told him they had been taken long ago. Their sharp claws grazed his arm, and he turned to look one woman in the eye. She was beautiful once, but now her skin was scaly, causing her hair to clump and thin.

*“What is your name?”*

She looked up at him in shock.

“What is your name?” He repeated, this time in Italian.

She hesitated, but perhaps it was the sincerity in his voice that set her at ease enough for her to mutter, softly, “Oinone.”

He held a hand to her chin and lifted it so his eyes met hers. “Hide your gaze no more, Oinone. Today is a sea change.”

He stepped out of his quarters, where his priests were waiting at attention. *“We have summoned them, Madron.”*

*“Excellent. Make sure no one is left behind.”* He looked at each and every one of them. *“This is a message for all.”*

Kon-Mai’s eyes followed Gur-Rai as he spun in the swivel chair at the edge of the room. Every time she tried to close her eyes, that god-awful squeaking would distract her and catapult her right back into conscious thought.

She got up from her lotus pose. “Will you stop that?”

“You should try it, Sister.” Gur-Rai dragged his foot along the ground to slow himself. “It’s very relaxing.”

“No, thank you.” She growled and leaned her shoulder against the window, staring out at the orange-painted clouds.

“What troubles you?” He asked.

“Have you heard? They are taking three Templars.” She growled. “Three.”

“Our brother is quite a beast.” Gur-Rai lifted his arms in an exaggerated shrug. “They’ll need it.”

“What if they kill him?”

“They have a job to do. If he dies, he dies.”

Kon-Mai turned on her brother faster than he could blink. “How dare you?”

“You’ve seen the two of us, Kon-Mai.” Gur-Rai growled. “We were never best buddies, and I’m certain he’d be better to see me hung at the gallows now that I’ve abandoned his precious cause.”

“He is our brother.” She insisted.

“Then perhaps he should have acted like it.”

“You speak for yourself, Brother.” She snarled. “He could be cruel, but he could be kind had you only taken the time to see it. Instead you purposefully antagonized him, knowing you would earn his wrath!”

“Ah yes, I wanted to be psionically mindfucked by discount Thanos.” Gur-Rai sneered. “That is the only possible explanation. Not that he was a raging dickbag. No, he was never wrong. I’m the bad guy, like fucking always.”

“Did I say that? Did I say he was never wrong in his actions?!” Kon-Mai took a step towards him. “No, you twist my words, Gur-Rai. Our brother is wrong on many things and absolutely moronic in the concept of others. But I gave him a chance.”

“And you think I didn’t?!” Gur-Rai hissed, baring his teeth like a cat. Kon-Mai actually startled, backing up against the window at this show of aggression.

“...I did not see it.”

“Because you weren’t born yet, sister. I tried to buddy up with him but he rebuffed me each time. He didn’t WANT us there, Sister, we were rivals. Rivals for the Elders’ affection, if that’s what you could even call it. He wanted it all to himself. In fact before you came out of the tank, he resented you.”

Kon-Mai stared at the ground.

“He doesn’t want you to protect him like a mother hen. At this point, I’m sure he’d shoot down the Avenger himself if he knew we were on it.” Gur-Rai took a breath, shaking out his muscles to try and force them to relax. “He hates me, Sister. I tried. That’s just how it is...”

“...I apologize.” Kon-Mai closed her eyes. “I wasn’t aware you felt that way.”

“Nah…” He crossed his arms. “...Sorry if I scared you.” He mumbled, his voice barely audible.

She met his gaze again. “In any case, the Commander has assured me she will try and bring him back alive. I trust you, Gur-Rai, that you are telling the truth about his actions.” She approached him again, but this time slowly and gingerly. “But if he should arrive at our ship still living, perhaps you will consider giving him a second chance?”

Gur-Rai’s upper lip twitched in a scowl.

“Brother.” She took his hand. “You are my family, and so is he.”

“Sometimes I wonder how we’re related.”

“Gur-Rai.” The way she looked at him immediately shut him up. “Have we not all suffered at their hands…?”

He blinked, turning to Kon-Mai with a look of disbelief. “...Never thought I’d hear you say that.”

She reached back, gingerly touching the skin on her shoulders. “...Do you think I enjoyed their punishments?”

He could have cracked a joke about that being kinky but...it had hit a nerve. He looked away. “I was in too much pain of my own to really think about it.”

“We have all been hurt.” She whispered. “But I do not want us to hurt anymore. Perhaps, with XCOM, we could finally be a family.”

He sighed, cringing at the thought but...she had that look in her eyes. Lil’ bitch could make herself look like a kicked puppy when she wanted to.

Gur-Rai nodded. “Fine.”

She smiled. “I knew I was right to have faith in you.”

“Sister.” He said as she let go of his hand. “With everything we three have been through, why do you insist on treating us like your little ducklings?”

Kon-Mai paused, examining the question in her head. It seemed to have struck a nerve, because a look of great discomfort twisted her face for just a moment.

Then she shook it off. “Because someone needs to keep you two in check, and it certainly won’t be Dhar-Mon.”

Malinalli looked out the window of the Skyranger. The rolling green hills creeping up on them felt so familiar, it was as though she’d walked them herself, even if she’d never been to Italy in her life.

“Pretty, huh?” Firebrand mused.

“It’s beautiful.” Malinalli blinked. “It reminds me of Oaxaca…”

“Then I think you’ll like it here.” Firebrand gestured to her. “Okay, pretend I have no idea where I’m going, because I don’t.”

“You don’t have a GPS?”

“I do, but I turned her off because she’s a cunt.” Firebrand winked at Malinalli from inside her helmet. “I’m told we headed for Rome?”

Malinalli focused on the ground below her, then at the skyline. “...Keep heading north, then about 20 degrees west once you reach that one big hill.”

Firebrand held the chopper steady, looking back at her passengers. “How y’all doin’ back there?”

“Fine!” Tiwaz called.

“Not fine!” Siv shouted. “This soldier is a moron! Why did we have to bring him?!”

“Tiwaz is good at his job.” Malinalli assured her. “He helped neutralize the Hunter.”

“Plus, I play a warlock in Dungeons and Dragons, so I have inside knowledge of our target.” Tiwaz said, partially joking. But only partially.

“See that big white thing there?” Malinalli pointed to the west.

“Yeah, the big tower?”

“Yes!” Malinalli put her hand over her heart. “Head for the palace!”

“Vatican City. Of course it is.” Firebrand laughed. “We shoulda fuckin’ known all along, really! Ain’t he known to be a drama queen?”

“Oh absolutely.” Iabet stood, her seat belt clinking as it fell loose. “You can drop us off here.”

“Pardon?”

“I said here, outside the gates.” She pointed to Malinalli. “Stay at the back, Medic. WE shall handle the Warlock.”

Something told Malinalli that arguing would put her in a bad situation. However, much she wanted to protest, she forced herself to swallow her nerves as she nodded.

The Skyranger’s doors opened up and five cables descended.

“Good luck, ladies!” Firebrand called as the soldiers began to drop.

The city was silent.

He noticed, as he went to the balcony and looked out, that the subjects were beginning to gather in his walls, milling about, whispering, waiting.

Waiting for what?

Two of his priests came up behind him. *“Should we sweep the streets again, Madron?”*

*“No.”* He held a hand up. *“Give them time, they will come of their own accord.”*

*“And if they do not come?”*

Dhar-Mon sighed. *“...It matters not. They shall hear my message either way.”* He looked down, and the people began to kneel, looking up at him like a god.

No. Not a god. Their fear was apparent.

He was the monster in their home.

They raced up the empty street, Malinalli huffing just to keep up with the much more in-shape Templars. They were like machines, not stopping for any interference.

“Where are all the people?” Tiwaz asked, his grenade launcher thumping against his back.

“Perhaps they are smart, and stayed in their homes.” Iabet mused. “As long as they aren’t in our way, it’s not our problem.”

Malinalli stumbled slightly, almost falling, but she righted herself in time to hear that distorted voice screaming in Etheric for them to stop.

A coalition of ADVENT troopers held out their hands to stop them. Tornike pushed to the front and decapitated the first one. Before Tiwaz could even think of launching a grenade, Siv had moved in and skewered one more, sending him and Iabet was locked in fisticuffs with the third. With a glowing punch, her hand went through his chest, and he dropped to the ground.

“Mom!” Siv cried out, as one priest she had slashed came out of a stasis bubble, and was now on top of her. Iabet turned but, losing attention on the one she was fighting, was struck with a blow to her shoulder that made her stumble.

Tornike, though, jumped in to rescue Siv, who was on the ground kicking up at the priest as they tried to beat her with the but of their rifle. They flipped it over and shot just as Tornike pulled her shield and redirected the blast, before slamming into the priest head-on. They stumbled backward into a lamp post, and Tornike took the priest’s head and slammed it into the wall until they fell limp.

“Thank you, Momí.” Siv said to Tornike as she stood. “We’re going the right way.”

“How do you know?” Malinalli put her hands on her knees, coughing.

“I play video games. Where there are enemies, that’s where we’re supposed to go.”

They turned down a nearby side street, running alongside the warm stone walls, when then all of a sudden Iabet halted and hushed them. Tornike cursed in Vulgar Latin and Tiwaz blew a whistle.

“That’s a lot of people!”

Malinalli poked her head out from around them and gasped. The Vatican’s courtyard was absolutely packed with people. She could hardly see over their heads, but was able to faintly make out the armor of ADVENT priests stalking on either side of the ring.

“...That way.” She whispered. “That’s where we need to go.”

“Hey.” Tiwaz hissed to Iabet. “Malinalli needs to get closer.”

“Absolutely not. We are going another way.” She turned around. “Come.”

“You don’t understand…” Malinalli wrung her hands. “I think I’m supposed to-”

“Medic, stop being ridiculous and follow me.” Iabet snapped.

Malinalli watched as the three Templars walked back down the path they came, then looked up at Tiwaz.

“I have to get in there.”

“How come?” Tiwaz looked down at her. “We’re going to get to him either way.”

“I think he’s trying to show me something.” She said. “I can feel him.”

“Your mind-bond thing?”

“Yeah…”

He smiled, pulling up the hood on his jacket. “I’ve always wanted to do a covert mission!”

She smiled and pulled at her braided bun, letting her black curls fall down over her sigil. “Follow me.”

They hugged the wall, looking for an opening into the crowd as the ADVENT soldiers drew closer. One old woman shifted slightly, and Malinalli wedged herself into the opening, pulling Tiwaz through with her. They stumbled for a moment, but the tightness of the crowd kept them from falling over.

Someone shouted something in Italian, and they looked up to the balcony and she gasped. “It’s him!”

Tiwaz looked up, squinting. “I can barely see him.”

“I need to get closer!” She looked around, but no other opening presented themselves. The Warlock stood there, in silence. Like he was waiting for something.

Or someone.

“I got it.” Tiwaz crouched down. “Get on my shoulders.”

“What?!”

“Get. On. My. Shoulders.”

“No...we’ll be spotted, I can probably...if the crowd would just-”

“Get on my shoulders, you fucking shortstack!”

Malinalli laughed, then she complied, climbing up and sitting with her legs on Tiwaz’s shoulders. He stood up and she wobbled a bit, but once she steadied herself, she looked up and raised her arms.

“DHAR-MON!”

Dhar-Mon felt his body shudder. That voice, he knew it. He knew it was her. But this time it sounded so close…

He looked down. There she was, those bright blue, sometimes green eyes staring up at him from within the mass of people. Far at the back, but he could see her clear as day.

He saw her smile, then she covered her mouth. “DHAR-MON! I’M HERE!”

Dhar-Mon smiled. This was it.

“Citizens of Rome.” He bellowed, his voice hard and loud. His priests looked at him in mild surprise as he stumbled through the speech in Italian, rather than Etheric. “You will recall the events of these past days. It has been difficult for you. For your families. For me. Many have died, and they did not have to.” He raised his arms. “This bloodshed could have been prevented.”

All eyes were on him. Dhar-Mon was shaking so much he felt his knees would buckle. He could no longer stop the tears as they began to flow. “It hurts to know what has happened to the people of this beautiful land, this beautiful planet, under the care of the Elders.” He looked around. “And it becomes ever clearer to me, you are not happy as things are.”

Murmuring. People began to raise their voices in fear, but he held up a hand.

“But there is no need for tears anymore. The time for mourning has passed.” He raised a hand and wiped the water from his cheeks. “And now is the time for blood. The time for retribution, for judgement.” He clenched his fist. “By my honor, I judge ADVENT and the Elders GUILTY of MURDER, GENOCIDE, AND HERESY! AND BY MY HAND, THEY SHALL SUFFER THEIR PUNISHMENT!”

His priests, utterly stunned, were completely unprepared as he lunged for them. He grabbed the nearest priest by the neck and tossed him back through the double doors, across the hall, where he slammed into a wall with an audible crunch. The other one couldn’t even react before their head was slammed into the balcony rim. They tried to raise their weapon to defend, but Dhar-Mon slammed them down again, lifted them up, and flung them from the balcony into the crowd of people who were now screaming in confusion and excitement.

Malinalli was cheering, and the commotion knocked her down from Tiwaz’s shoulders and she came rolling to a stop, picking herself up and sprinting into the crowd. “DHAR-MON!”

He met her eyes, and she his. They were deep purple and bright as the moon.

She held out her hand, up toward the palace. He stared down at her. She blinked up at him.

“Malinalli.” She heard his voice in her head. “Come to the Basilica of Saint Peter, to the Altar of Gold. I shall meet you there, and there I shall leave this place. With you.”

Malinalli covered her mouth, and for a moment she dissolved into a flood of emotions. “OKAY!” She coughed and closed her eyes, shaking uncontrollably. “Okay, Dhar-Mon! I’m coming!” She took off through the sea of people, and he too sprinted down the palace hallway.

“I’m coming!”

“I’m coming.”

His soldiers were, at first, no trouble. They still bowed when they saw him. Soon, though, the alarm was raised, and his soldiers began to do what they had been programmed to from the start.

They were not there to keep others out. They were there to keep him in.

Most were no trouble, and even more still surrendered to his might, but Dhar-Mon was not a stealthy man, and clomping through the palace was not helping him achieve his goal of getting to the Basilica quickly. As he turned a corner into one of the antechambers, three priests emerged, guns drawn.

*“Stand down, Madron.”* One said. *“We do not wish to hurt you, but if prompted to, we will.”*

He growled. *“As your Chosen I order you: let me pass!”*

A couple of them faltered, but the one who had spoken stood their ground.

*“You are not yourself.”* They said. *“We cannot call you our Chosen.”*

*“I am not the same, no.”* He said. *“I have been enlightened to the crimes the Elders have committed.”*

*“You are brainwashed, Madron.”* His priests raised their guns. *“The humans have brainwashed you.”*

*“No. The humans have opened my eyes. We have all suffered under the tyranny of the Elders. And I shall remind you as such.”* He raised his hands, and-

Cried out in pain. They had fired. Fired their guns. On him! He fell to his knees, gasping. That bullet must have hit his rib…

*“Destroy the sarcophagus.”* One priest said to another. *“If he dies he shall merely regenerate. We cannot let that-”*

*“Stop!”* One of them cried.

The three priests turned as the Warlock disappeared out the door.

The front of the Basilica was already swarming with troops. Tiwaz loaded a grenade in his grenade launcher, and Malinalli stepped behind him as they began to close in on the two.

“By order of the Elders, stand down.”

“Eat shit.” Tiwaz said. “You have no power here.”

“We will not hesitate to use lethal force.”

Malinalli looked around, desperate for a way through, but the wall of priests was impenetrable. She could not fail Dhar-Mon now, not after coming so far.

She heard footsteps behind her and raised her hands. She could barely use her psionics in a fight, but she’d fight with bare fists and teeth if she had to.

Then a voice behind her said “Duck.”

She did, and so did Tiwaz, right as a storm of purple lightning descended from the sky, striking down upon the bodies of the priests who stood in their way. A few evaded the storm by ducking just as they had, but many others were fried, screaming as their flesh burned.

Tornike fell to her knees beside Malinalli, who jumped to her aid as Siv dashed past them, yellow blades of psionic energy glued to her fists and a battle cry on her lips.

“I am alright.” Tornike insisted.

“Let me get a stim…” Malinalli got out her adrenaline pen but Tornike held up her hand.

“I said I am alright.” She smiled. “Go to him, saghirti.”

Malinalli stood up, just as Iabet appeared from the dust and clouds, blades of energy in her fists and a smile on her lips.

“On my mark…” Iabet raised her first. “...NOW!”

Siv launched at those priests like a bat out of Hell, shrieking like a banshee as she locked her sword with the gun of the one closest to her. They pushed back against her, but were distracted by the clunk of a grenade falling behind the platoon. As it exploded, Siv jumped back and glared at Tiwaz.

“Sorry!” Tiwaz cried.

Iabet jumped into the fray and cut down the priests that were beginning to move in on their position. Malinalli began to stand up, until the ground began to shake and she dropped into a crouch to keep from falling over. A pink light filled the windows of the Apostolic Palace and Malinalli gasped.

Dhar-Mon fell to his knees, stumbling down the hall. A blinding flash of pain caught him only for a moment, and then…

“The Elders.” He said out loud. “They are...silent…”

He closed his eyes, reaching out with his mind. “Malinalli…”

“I’m here!” Her voice was clear as crystal.

“They have destroyed my sarcophagus.” He said.

He heard her gasp. “We have a chopper! I’ll get you out, I promise!”

“I am coming.” He got to his feet slowly.

“You’re injured…”

He forgot, she could feel that pain… “It is only a flesh wound. I will be fine.”

“I’ll call in Firebrand!” She insisted. “...Dhar-Mon, how close are you?”

“I am on the second floor, one more flight and I shall-”

“I’m coming in!” She cried.

He smiled.

Malinalli got to her feet. “Tiwaz.” She said loudly. “I’m going inside!”

“No!” Iabet cried. “Medic, let us make it safe first!”

Malinalli ignored her. “I need someone to cover me!”

“Medic, I will stop you!” Iabet, snapped as she turned her attention to the priest who had put one of the others into stasis. She slashed at them, but they kept jumping back and evading her blades.

“You look a bit busy!” Tiwaz cried as he lifted his gun to his hip. “Go ahead, Molly! I got you covered!”

She smiled at him, took a deep breath, and pushed off. She sprinted faster than she thought she ever could, jumping and weaving in between soldiers and priests who tried to jump in her way. One reached out to grab her, she ducked under their arms. Another fired on her and she dove to the ground, sliding briefly like a damn penguin, and then the soldier was quickly reduced to shrapnel as Tiwaz lobbed a grenade at them.

Finally, her hand touched those ancient metal doors. She was so small that, initially when she slammed against them, she bounced right off. The doors seemed sealed.

“No, no no no…” She put her hand to the doors. “I didn’t come this far to be stopped by you!” She closed her eyes and pressed her fingertips against the door, and shoved.

Dhar-Mon pushed through the wall of soldiers blocking him. One of them fired, but the bullets flew into the air, only grazing his cheek, leaving a deep cut, but he disregarded them and fled to the stairwell, bullets hitting the wall behind him.

He was panting, but not from exhaustion. He had never felt this free before, this alive. It felt like he was being called toward her.

Finally, he came to the marble corridor that led to the altar of St. Peter’s Basilica.

By herself, the door budged, but only slightly. Malinalli’s brow was dotted in sweat as she tried to shove the door open, becoming more and more panicked with each passing second.

Then, she felt another shoulder up against the door, and the metal gave way.

Tiwaz smiled as the door swung open. “Go get him, Tiger!”

She laughed, mumbling a thank you as she dashed down the aisle, just as the tiny door on the left side burst open, and the Warlock came stumbling out, stopping just in front of that giant golden altar.

They locked eyes, Malinalli behind a row of pews with the sun at her back, Dhar-Mon framed with the ancient sculpted artwork of humans long dead.

“...Malinalli…”

She smiled. “Dhar-Mon…”

Their eyes met, and here they were. In person, for the first time. She was even more beautiful than in his dreams, and she was floored by just how elegant he looked, without the fancy psionics. When he was just Dhar-Mon.

He took a step towards her. “I am so glad...to finally meet you…”

She smiled, tears pouring down her cheeks. She could hear Iabet screaming at her as the Templars ran up the stairs just behind her, but the sound of their raucous didn’t matter.

Malinalli held out her hand. “Come with me.”

Dhar-Mon took another step forward and stopped.

“Dhar-Mon?”

He brought a hand to his head, staggering back a bit. “Malinalli…”

“Dhar-Mon.” She could feel her heart racing, and something blooming in the center of her forehead. “What’s-” Then her mind erupted in fire, and she bellowed in agony.

Dhar-Mon doubled over, crying out in pain. Behind her, Malinalli heard Iabet scream, and the room was lit up with a flash of blue.

“I never expected this from you.” A deep, bone-shattering voice said behind her as she stumbled forward, crashing into the pews. Malinalli felt a chill, and definitely did not want to turn around. But she did.

She knew it wasn’t really...them. It was an illusion. But she could feel the immense psionic power radiating off this being, like this creature was everything in the universe all at once.

And it wanted to kill them. And it could.

She turned back as she heard Dhar-Mon whimper. He was barely standing now, leaning against the altar in an attempt to remain standing. He lifted a hand to cover his mouth and immediately gagged violently, and Malinalli saw a spray of blood explode from behind his palm. He fell to his knees, blood dribbling from his eyes, nose, mouth and down his chin.

“Dhar-Mon!”

Dhar-Mon coughed violently, vomiting up a torrent of thick, viscous red fluid. He tried to stand again, but his limbs were as weak as dry twigs, and his skin was like glass, ready to break at any moment.

He looked up at her, his eyes wide with horror. “Mali…”

Then his eyes rolled back and he slumped, motionless, against the altar.

“You are a failure.” The Elder behind her said, as it left in a flash of dark blue. “The Chosen are no more.”

Malinalli could hear screaming, but was unsure if it was her own voice or someone else’s voice. She literally leapt over the pews, crawling across the floor to get to him. Despite him being twice her size, she lifted him in her arms and reached around to the back of his head, searching for the chip she knew was killing him.

“SOMEBODY HELP HIM!” She screamed. “CALL THE SKYRANGER!”

“Iabet to Avenger, we need immediate evacuation!” The Templar called over the comm. “The Chosen is...”

Malinalli’s fingers grasped the chip, and with a resounding snap, she yanked it from his skull. He spasmed briefly before falling limp.

“Nonononono!” She pressed her hands to his face. “No please, please Dhar-Mon! Stay with me! Stay with me!”

Stay with me…

Stay...

(Hello all. Hope quarantine is going well for you. As of now I’m starting to feel better, so next chapter should be out on Wednesday as per the schedule.)

Archive: https://chosenstories.tumblr.com/

#xcom #xcom 2 war of the chosen #xcom 2 #xcom the chosen #xcom warlock #chosen warlock #chosen stories #chosen assassin #chosen hunter

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honeyedlashton · 5 years

Text

“Fireflies and Make Believe”

Word count: 2788

Warnings: Language (listen I swear when I write. It lets off steam.)

A/N: Okay I’ll admit I was greatly inspired by Dreamboy for this fic. Fetus Malum is a win always. And idk man. I just really wanted to have some quality soft times with these boys who have known each other for 14 years. They’re BABIES in this. Like actually 11–almost in Calum’s case. So I could find no fetus Malum pictures to go along with the age, so I’m using the iconic baby baby one of them. (My picture quality just keeps getting better and better.) Anyway, here these boys are. Hope you enjoy:

———————————————————————

It was the summer of dreams, that break just between fifth and sixth year. When the hot December air was bringing in endless heat waves, Calum could not have been more excited because he and Michael made plans to spend as much time as possible together in their off time.

And unlike most people’s plans, it actually happened for them. When Michael wasn’t over at Calum’s, Calum was at Michael’s. Luckily their parents didn’t seem to mind carting them to the other’s house when they were having so much fun.

Plus two eleven-year-old boys—well almost eleven, in Calum’s case—always had something to do. Michael had loads of video games and a guitar he sometimes let Calum mess around with—but Calum determined quickly that the guitar was not for him. Calum had football, but when Michael was over he didn’t really force him to play unless it was in the cool of the evening, so Calum’s house became the place where they watched tons of movies. Calum would guess they’d been through at least half a million by the end of break.

Both were lightweights and couldn’t stay up all night—though not for lack of trying. On more than a few occasions they’d woken up sometime mid-morning with Calum’s carpet indented on Michael’s cheek, a stream of drool trailing down Calum’s arm from his own mouth, and the home screen of whatever dvd they were watching running on a continuous loop.

They’d always rewatch the ending.

Calum was fond of the time they spent together. In fact, it was mostly because of the time they’d spent together that made it the summer of dreams. Michael was so interesting, and funny, and he always had something nice to say to him. He could go on for hours about any topic that interested them both. And Calum didn’t mind if he talked for a while in the dark of the night while they had both at least attempted to go to sleep. He liked hearing what Michael had to say. He couldn’t be more thrilled to have a best friend as caring and charismatic as Michael Clifford.

Michael’s neighborhood had a pool, and on certain nights of the week—specifically Friday and Saturday—the pool closed later at night than during a normal day. Calum loved, going to Michael’s house on the weekend because that meant night swims two days in a row. And while it was one of the only outdoor activities where he was in danger of having to talk to people he didn’t know, he just enjoyed being in the pool, freezing in the chilly water and being rewarmed by the concrete that still radiated heat after the sun was down.

Plus the games he and Michael would play he would consider to be better than all the other kids’ at the pool, because Michael was sort of a gaming legend and he always knew how to make it interesting. And on the off-chance other kids did join them, he was always helpful and kind to others, too—something Calum occasionally had to remind himself was okay.

Calum didn’t understand why the idea of Michael being friendly to someone else made him so upset. At least he didn’t until one Friday night after New Years.

He hadn’t seen Michael in way over a week. They went to the pool as normal, they had their swim trunks in plastic bags with towels and sunscreen—even though the sun would set soon, Micheal’s mother insisted and Calum was no one to fight it. They chatted about all the things they got for Christmas and Michael went on about a movie they were going to have to see soon. Calum giggled along with each of Michael’s hilarious New Years stories, grateful to be in the presence of his best friend again.

When they arrived to the pool the boys headed straight to the locker room and quickly changed out of their jeans. Calum was anxious to get back out in the water, it had been a while and he ached for the cool, unsteady rhythm of the water to soak him to the bone.

But when he turned around to ask Michael if he was ready, he saw something he never thought he’d see. His best friend in light purple swim shorts. This momentarily threw Calum off track because he didn’t expect it, it was so different from anything he’d ever seen Michael wear.

“Oh? You like my swim trunks?” Michael smiled that soft smile he got when he was proud of something. “They’re the GIR shorts I was telling you about.”

When Michael had described getting Invader Zim shorts, he for some reason had expected the shorts to be the same green color as the cartoon character for which it’s advertising, not a light purple...

“Do you like them?” Michael asked sort of suspiciously when Calum kept staring. The easy, proud smile was gone and Calum knew he had to act fast.

“Yeah, they’re cool, man,” Calum assured Michael. And Michael seemed to accept the answer. Whether or not he believed Calum, that was a different conversation.

“C’mon,” Michael said closing the locker, “I’ve been waiting for two weeks for your lame ass to get here so I could swim again.”

And when he started walking, Calum could see the little green cartoon decal on the side of the shorts.

On the walk to the water Calum found himself thinking about the color of his own shorts, the plain navy blue with a thin white stripe up the side. He wondered briefly what people would say if he wore purple shorts like that.

It wasn’t that he disliked them, he just couldn’t look away from them. Or Michael for that matter. And he felt that sort of weird tug at his stomach he’d sometimes felt during the summer. It wasn’t a bad or good, just sort of uncomfortable for a second, and then it’s gone.

“Dude, hurry up, I’ve been thinking about this game of Space Invaders forever,” Michael called from the edge already.

Calum walked faster—which it wasn’t running—and jumped in tugging Michael with him.

The water was still a little warm, but not for long. “Dickhead,” Michael shouted when he resurfaced.

Calum giggled and gave a few apologetic looks at the few displeased parents whose children were about to be exposed to the wrath of Michael Clifford. “You could have warned me you were gonna push me in!” Michael pushed a wave of water at Calum’s face.

Calum felt a little water go up the nose but was otherwise able to splash back playfully. But that only caused the two of them to get into a splash fight. Unfortunately a few poorly aimed splashes hit a couple of girls who were for some reason trying not to get their hair wet. Calum didn’t understand, nor did he care. Only about what Michael was gonna do next, because it was probably going to be evil.

But before Michael could act Calum held his hand out. “Truce!” He offered.

“As long as that means I win, then yes.”

“Fine, you win.”

Michael’s red lips formed a smirk, and he shook Calum’s hand. “Good. I wanna play our game anyway, so I forgive you.”

Calum smiled. “Whats so different about this game of Space Invaders, anyway?”

“Well usually we’ve been playing where I’m the alien, and you’re the guardian of earth—A-K-A: the pool. And that’s gonna stay the same, but this time it’s the final showdown. Winner takes all. No more Space Invaders till we aren’t sick of it anymore. Plus whoever wins doesn’t get splashed for a month, but they can splash however much they want.”

This intrigued Calum, because Michael was relentless when he’d splash. It always found a way to get caught in Calum’s nose and throat, and he would do anything to give Michael a taste of his own medicine. “You’re on!”

So the two set out. Calum in the middle of the pool, Michael along the side.

“You’ll never take this planet,” Calum called, getting in a vaguely defensive position.

“And you’ll never take me alive!” Michael called back, completely immersed in character. He dove under the water to swim at Calum—meaning he had to be quick to move out of the way.

The good thing about this game was the fact that it tired them both out relatively quickly. However this time—with splash immunity on the line—neither of them were willing to forfeit. Not even when it was mandatory break time. They just sat at the edge of the pool barely talking. Calum was going through strategies in his mind of how he could beat Michael.

And he didn’t know what he expected when he looked at Michael, but he was still wearing those shorts and Calum’s breath caught...

It was so easy to forget about them in the pool, but outside? Oh boy. It was worse than Calum even thought. He felt the pull in his stomach, and this time warmth spread across his face.

The sun was down now, and there was only the lights along the inside of the pool and the locker room building keeping their shapes from blending into the darkness. The moon was out too. Big and bright and beautiful.

Calum bit his lip lightly and looked over the profile of Michael’s face out of the corner of his eye, so it wasn’t noticeable. He felt that strange tug again and...

Oh.

It hit him all at once. And he didn’t know if he wanted to run away, or stay close. But he realized like a switched on lightbulb that Michael was the prettiest face he’d ever seen.

His blush grew worse then, and he only prayed nothing more telling happened, especially during their wait for the signal to let them back in the pool.

“Are you alright, man?” Michael looked at him with those soft eyes. Everything about him was so soft and kind and gentle and... fuck.

“Y-yeah,” Calum said unconvincingly. “Just cold.”

“The water is gonna be cold,” Michael smirked. “Are you sure you sure you’re gonna be able to defend Earth while your teeth are chattering?”

“You just wish you could get in my head,” Calum rolled his eyes trying to find some form of normal. “You’re never gonna win.”

“We’ll see about that...”

And as if on cue the bell rang to tell them they could get back in the pool, Michael jumped without hesitation making Calum scramble to swim faster than him. They reached the middle of the pool at the same time and stood in the not-too-deep water. Calum looking only slightly up at Michael.

“I have alien ships surrounding earth.” Michael narrowed his eyes at him.

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do! They’re here and they’re awesome.”

“Prove it!”

But whatever Michael had planned it was cut short by the appearance of a firefly by the pool. He quickly pointed to it, “there! That! See? I told you!”

“How did you do that?”

Michael shrugged, “I’m a powerful intergalactic commander. I can call up some of my alien friends.”

“Too bad they won’t help you win the war,” Calum said and pushed Michael under the water in what he could only describe as a savage power move. Neither of them knew how to actually win Space Invaders. It was honestly just until one gave up, so Calum just had to outlast Michael.

Michael apparently couldn’t just take that, because Calum felt Michael’s hands wrap around his waist and pull him under the water. They shoved at each other under the water in an unspoken agreement to not go to the surface unless they were forfeiting.

Calum wasn’t even sure what was happening half the time, they were just flailing limbs at each other. Until at one point he kicked and noticed Michael wasn’t there anymore. And all at once, Calum remembered Michael’s bronchitis.

He found Michael on the surface leaning at the edge of the pool coughing out a lung. His mom was perched beside him giving him some water and saying something Calum couldn’t quite hear. Michael nodded in understanding.

Calum’s heart was racing when he reached the edge. “I forgot about your bronchitis... I’m sorry, Mikey. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I just—. I need oxygen to live you know?” Michael coughed out a slight laugh.

Calum even smiled. “I won’t count that round.”

“No, you won fair and square.”

“Mike, I can’t just take the win like that. You were hurt.”

“I wasn’t hurt,” Michael rolled his eyes, “I thought I could hold my breath longer than I actually could. In any game that’s a valid reason not to win.”

Calum still didn’t feel right about it. “You wanna give up rights to splash me with no splash backs?”

“Don’t worry. I’m giving it to you, man,” Michael give him a pat on the back. “We both know if I had functioning lungs you would never have stood a chance.”

Calum could accept it because of that though.

They took it easy from then on, just swimming around the edge of the pool. Looking at the show of fireflies as they filled the dark off in the distance. It was just so magical to see.

Calum found himself watching both the fireflies, and Michael’s reaction to them. His face was lit up and he had that wondrous smile that Calum had long since found contagious. Now he at least understood why...

He looked back out to the horizon.

“Life is so much better with you, Cal,” Michael spoke unexpectedly.

Calum turned to him, brows furrowed but in interest, “what do you mean.”

“I’m not saying the fireflies wouldn’t be here if you weren’t here, but I probably wouldn’t be at the pool to see them,” Michael said. “This has been the best summer I’ve ever had.”

Calum smiled. “Me too.”

“I know.”

The drive back to Michael’s was quiet. Both of them were exhausted and cold, but warming now that they were in dry clothes again. Calum looked at the moon and the soft flicker of fireflies in the distance, and listened to Michael’s gentle breathing as he napped.

Calum was relieved to find out that Michael wanted to go to sleep early. And when they had both showered the chlorine from their hair and body, they curled up on Michael’s bed. Calum could feel the waves of the pool still like he was floating on the water.

It was so real, like in closing his eyes he could imagine he was just floating in a warm bath.

He felt the bed shift a little and then felt Michael’s breath on his upper arm. “Cal?” Michael asked in an almost small voice.

Calum hummed in response.

“Can I ask you something and it not be weird?”

Calum opened his eyes at that. “Okay?”

“Can you—?” He stopped, “can you like... hold me while I go to sleep. It saves blanket space...”

Calum’s heart jolted at that. “Uh, y-yeah,” He cleared his throat.

“That’s not weird for you?” Michael asked. He could almost hear the blush rushing to Michael’s face.

“I don’t see why it would be,” Calum assured him softly, even though his own heart was racing. “I almost killed you in the pool, the least I can do is comfort you.”

Michael in response, scoot himself closer to Calum and wrapped himself in Calum’s arms resting a head on his chest. “Your heartbeat is heavy,” Michael whispered softly.

“High blood pressure.” It wasn’t a lie, it just wasn’t the reason for his intense heartbeat this time. “It’s hereditary...”

Michael hummed in understanding. Whether or not he believed it he wasn’t giving away.

“I—. Uh... I liked your GIR shorts, by the way,” Calum said softly, and Michael giggled.

“You told me that already.”

“I know. Just wanted to give you a real compliment.”

Michael nodded. “Thank you,” Calum could hear the grateful smile.

He let himself breathe in the smell of Michael’s soap and was contented and elated and scared and everything all at once. He barely breathed, barely moved. He wanted to make Michael as comfortable as possible.

Somehow he felt like the whole summer had been leading up to this moment. The realization that he had new feelings for Michael, and then this. It seemed perfect, it seemed right. He never wanted the smell of Irish Spring to leave him. Or the warmth of Michael’s body. Or the sound of Michael’s breathing.

He held him gingerly, grazing soft innocent hands along Michael’s back. There was nothing else Calum would rather do than fall asleep with Michael in his arms for the rest of summer.

“Night, Cal,” Michael hummed contentedly. “Sweet dreams.”

“Night, Mikey.”

#michael clifford #mgc #calum hood #cth #malum #5sos #gay 5sos #gaysos #fetus malum #fetus michael #fetus calum #this is a fic i wrote #im a big malum stan #sorry not sorry #I needed baby malum #scholarly

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catgirlthecrazy · 5 years

Text

Muse and Knight

Warning: this fanfic contains major spoilers through Tiamat’s Wrath.

AO3

Summary: The transition from uneasy allies to family doesn’t happen in a single moment. Not even a dramatic one. It’s a slow change, like a sunset. You can’t see it happening, just see the results when it’s already happened.

Holden and Clarissa’s relationship, through the years.

The coffee machine was broken. Again. Holden pressed his forehead into the cool brushed steel surface of the machine. “I don’t ask for much. Really, I don’t. Is this so unreasonable?” The red text of the error message shown even through his closed eyelids. It seemed almost irritated at him for expecting it to perform the function that was the entire purpose of its existence.

The galley door slid open. “Oh,” a soft voice said. Clarissa hovered at the galley door.

“Hey,” he said. “You’re up.”

Clarissa seemed to teeter on the edge of leaving. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were awake."

Holden shrugged. "Couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d start shift early. Or, I was going to." He gestured helplessly at the red error message. Holden’s head already ached in anticipation of caffeine withdrawal.

Clarissa frowned and crossed the galley, inspecting the error message. "It’s not working?” She power-cycled the coffee maker and hit the brew button again.

“Already tried that,” Holden said. As if agreeing, the machine buzzed angrily and spat out the same error message as before.

“Hmm. Let me take a look.” Clarissa left, and returned with a bag of tools and parts. A minute later she had the machine on the floor, back panel removed and parts exposed to the open air. Not for the first time, Holden was struck by a sudden sense of surreality. Just a handful of years ago, this woman had tried to destroy him and everyone he loved. He could still remember the murderous rage she’d inspired in him. Now she was fixing his coffeemaker, and he was weirdly ok with that.

He’d like to say that the assault on the slow zone had been the tipping point. The moment when she’d moved in his mind from “person who’d tried to kill him” to “part of his crew.” But these sorts of things never worked like that. It was like a sunrise: you couldn’t see the sky turning from black to blue while it was ongoing. You could only notice the results after they’d already happened.

“Ha!” Clarissa pulled out something metallic and charred, with little dangling wires like tentacles. “Power leads burnt out.”

“Is that hard to fix?"

"No, this part swaps out pretty easy.” She opened a utility organizer labeled Replacement Parts: Galley in neat handwriting that definitely wasn’t Amos’. She pulled out the pristine twin of the burnt out part and wired it into the machine. She put the machine back together, and ran diagnostics. This time the message was a happy green. She made a little animal noise of satisfaction. “There, all fixed.”

Holden clapped her on the shoulder. “You are my favorite person in the solar system.” He turned to the machine and started a new brew. “You want me to make some for you?” When she didn’t answer, he turned to look at her.

There was an odd expression on Clarissa’s face, one his caffeine-deprived mind couldn’t quite decipher. “I… yes, I would love that,” she said.

Weeks later, Holden would learn that Clarissa actually hated coffee. That morning, though, she drank the whole cup.

***

Pátria was a big colony. To Holden, a child of cramped and crowded Earth, that still felt a little strange. Pátria only had a few settlements, and only one that could rate the label ‘city’- barely. But by the fledgling standards of extra-solar colonies, it was a metropolis. It had paved roads and a sewage system and real buildings not made from scrap and mud. And it had recreational swimmers.

The day was uncomfortably hot, the kind of hot that made his shirt damp. A few families with young children were splashing in the local lake on the outskirts of the town. A floating platform had been set up in a deeper part of the lake. One adolescent took a running leap off and cannonballed into the lake, splashing his friends and prompting screams and shouts. A few nearby waterbirds croaked their annoyance and flew off. Holden found himself grinning.

“People do this for fun ?” Bobbie’s voice was acrid with disgust and amusement.

“What, swim? It’s not that uncommon on Earth,” he said.

“Those birds have been pooping in there. And the fish. And whatever the hell kind of microbes they’ve got.”

Holden shrugged. “That’s true on Earth too. People still swim in ponds and lakes there. Remind me to tell you about some of my family’s trips to Flathead Lake.”

She shot him a look. “Yeah, and that's also disgusting. But at least Earth lakes have our flavor of shit and microbes in it. This will have alien shit and microbes in it. Who knows what that does?”

Holden opened his mouth to answer, but Clarissa beat him to it. “They test the water regularly here. It’s not safe to drink without treatment, but you can swim in it just fine. So long as you don’t swallow too much, anyway.” She was taking off her shoes and rolling up her jumpsuit pantlegs as she talked. “I looked it up before we landed.” She set her shoes aside, socks neatly tucked in, and walked purposefully towards the water. It took Holden a second to understand why. Then he grinned and shucked off his own shoes.

Bobbie groaned. “If your feet melt into green slime, don’t come complaining to me,” she called.

They both ignored her. Clarissa was already up to her ankles by the time Holden reached the water. Her face was turned up to the sun like a flower, her expression pure bliss.

“I don’t think I’ve been anywhere near a real lake since I was a kid,” Holden said. The water was delightfully cold. The soft wet sand slid comfortably between his toes.

“Last time I was near a lake was when me and Amos were trying to get off Earth. Not much time for swimming then.”

“And before that?”

“Probably the same lake, the last time I summered there with my parents. We used to go there every other year. It was… nice.” She had the same distant tone she got, discussing her old life. He’d never pressed her much about it. So Holden changed the subject.

“I forgot how good cold water feels on a hot day,” he said. He crouched down and started splashing water on his face, careful to keep his mouth closed as he did so.

Clarissa was digging out handfuls of sand out of the lake bottom and watching them flow through her fingers underwater. “I know. I almost want to just dunk myself in and float for a while."

"But?”

“But I don’t fancy walking around in a soaking wet jumpsuit the rest of the day.”

“Those colonists got their swimsuits from somewhere. We’ve got a few hours. We could go get some. Have some shore leave on the beach.

"You think anyone else will be interested?” Her tone was amused. Holden glanced behind him. Bobbie was still shaking her head at the whole affair in amused disgust. Amos was staring at them with the blank non-comprehension of someone watching a foreign religious ritual. Alex and Naomi were back on the Roci, but he suspected their reaction would be much the same as Bobbie’s. Lake swimming wasn’t something people did outside of Earth- or it hadn’t been until now. And Baltimore didn’t have any bodies of water a sane person would want to swim in. It occurred to Holden that, though Clarissa wasn’t the only other Earther on the crew, she was probably the only one who shared any of his fondness for the place.

“Maybe not,” he said. “Do we need anyone else?”

She smiled. “I guess we don’t.”

By the time they were done at the lake, the day was nearly gone. The two of them walked back to the Roci’s landing pad, chatting animatedly, beneath a sky transitioning from blue to azure to black.

***

When you lived day in and day out with the same people on a small ship, a certain level telepathy emerged. From the tone of Naomi’s humming, or the way Bobbie took a ladder, or the rhythm of Alex’s fingers on the controls, Holden could take a barometer reading of each of his crew. So when Holden saw Clarissa sitting in the galley, gripping her mug of tea in a very particular way, he knew something was very wrong. Unfortunately, the telepathy didn’t tell him why.

To buy himself time, he started making coffee. Holden knew so much detail about his crew personal and work lives that, whatever their mood was, he usually had plenty of context to guess what the cause was. He didn’t know of anything in Clarissa’s life that could be behind her anxious mood. She hadn’t had any fights with the other crew that he knew of. There weren’t any looming mechanical problems or existential threats. He wondered how to go about asking what was bothering her.

Holden sat down at the table across from her. “What’s bothering you?”

Her eyes focused on him, like she’d only just noticed he was there. Then she laughed. “Always the direct approach.”

He grinned and shrugged. “I’m not very good at this.”

She grinned back for a moment. Then it faded. “I got a message from my sister.”

Two thoughts collided in Holden’s head: I thought your sister was dead slammed into I hope she’s doing well and jumbled together in his mind. Just barely, he stopped himself from blurting I hope she’s dead out loud. He knew Clarissa had siblings besides Julie. She never talked about her birth family except in the past tense, so it was easy to forget that most of them were still alive.

“Not good news, I take it?”

“My father is dead.”

The news was like a dropped tool in an empty cargo hold. Her father. Jules-Pierre Mao. The man who had probably held the record for bloodiest hands in the solar system until Marco Inaros came along to steal the title. It was hard for Holden to think of the arrogant man he’d encountered on Luna so many years ago as related to the tired looking mechanic in front of him. The Venn Diagram between the two had so little overlap these days that they were nearly separate circles in his mind. “Um. Wow.” He took a long pull from his coffee. He couldn’t make this about his own feelings right now. “How are you feeling right now?”

She didn’t answer for a long moment, but Holden chose to wait and sip his coffee. He didn’t have to wait long. “When I was young, he defined my life. Father was like a gravity well. So much revolved around him, and you couldn’t pass near him without accounting for how he’d alter your trajectory. Now he’s gone, and it’s hardly worth a story on the news feeds.” She smiled wryly. “He would have hated that.”

Holden frowned into his coffee. “You know, now that you mention it, that’s kind of weird. I mean, yeah, it’s been a while since he was in the news, but he was kind of a big deal back in the day. I’m surprised I haven’t heard more about this.”

“I’m not. He was held in Mossoró when the rocks fell. They were hit bad by tsunamis. They couldn’t find most of the bodies. It’s only now that the courts have made it official.” Clarissa’s voice was so flat, like she was reading off a list.

“So you’ve known this was coming.” Holden wondered if that was the reason for her mood. He could remember one of his grandmothers, who’d been gravely ill for so long before she died that he’d felt more relief at her passing than loss. And with that relief, guilt.

“I suppose I did.” Clarissa cocked her head in bemusement. “I’m surprised you didn’t know that. You’re the one who put him in prison.” There was no hint of reproach in her voice. Almost, they could have been talking about a famous football player whose career Holden hadn’t kept up with.

Holden shrugged. “Honestly, I kind of stopped giving a fuck about him once he was in prison. So long as he couldn’t start wars, I didn’t really care.” Holden winced. “I uh, may not be the most comforting person to talk to about this.”

Clarissa just smiled at him. “I think he’d hate that even more than the lack of news coverage.”

Holden wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that. “So… You sound pretty calm about this. But I can tell something’s bugging you. Anything you want to talk about?”

Clarissa frowned into her mug. “When I got the message that he was dead, my first thought was 'good.’ I don’t like that.”

Holden took a long sip from his coffee to buy himself time. “No love lost between you two, then?”

“I don’t feel anything about him. No love, no hate. I’m just very, very glad that he’s gone forever now. And I don’t like that I feel that way. I didn’t think I was that kind of person anymore.”

“I mean, to be fair, it makes me a little happy to know he’s gone for good.” Clarissa looked up at him sharply, and he shrugged. “It probably doesn’t speak well of me as a person. But I think it’s just part of being human.”

“Maybe.” She stared at her drink. “I still feel like I’ve failed somehow.”

Holden strongly disagreed. But he knew by now that she didn’t really want him to prove her wrong. Just listen while she worked through it on her own.

And the truth was, Holden could sympathize with her sorrow, but he couldn’t entirely empathize with it. Mao was her father. He understood intellectually why parent-child relationships could fall apart so completely and irreparably that she could react this way. He could agree entirely with the reasons why. He knew that the only right you had with anyone in life was the right to walk away. But he couldn’t really feel it. He had always gotten on well with his own parents. It was hard to imagine anything different.

He took her hand. “Well, for what it’s worth, I like the person you are now,” he said.

“And who do you think that person is?”

“The person who fixes things. The person who won’t let so much as a squeaking hinge stick around for long. The person who builds things.”

She didn’t answer him. She just smiled a small smile. They sat together in companiable silence for a long time.

***

When his interrogators told him about the body on Medina, Holden thought they were lying. Surely, it was a tactic to make him admit something. Surely, the photos and autopsy reports were fake. Surely, they couldn’t have found Clarissa Mao, shot twice amidst a half dozen dead Laconian soldiers. When Holden finally let himself believe them, he waited for them to tell him who else in his family had died. Months, then years passed, and the news never came.

He couldn’t grieve. He couldn’t afford to. If the Laconians knew just how deep a weakness it was, if they understood that she was more to him that a mere crewmate, they’d never stop hammering away at it. So he threw all his efforts into diverting them. He opened up as much as he could on the alien threat. The Tempest anomaly. The Ilus artifact. Elvi Okoye.

When he finally got free, he was too preoccupied to think much about older pain. The flight to the gate, Bobbie’s death, Amos’ strange resurrection: all of these overwhelmed his attention like a well lit room overwhelms a single candle. When the grief reminded him of its presence, it wasn’t how he expected it.

The cabin door squeaked. It was such a soft little sound, it took Holden weeks to notice it. He was so wrapped up in the joy of being back on the Roci, of not being on Laconia, that most other things were background noise. But as time went by, as they passed through the Laconia gate, through the slow zone and into the Gossner system, Holden noticed the small rattling whine of a mechanism not quite in alignment.

“It’s just a squeak.” Naomi shrugged with her hands when he mentioned it to her. “I can have Amos put it on the to-do list, but I guarantee you he’s got a couple dozen other items on it already. This might never make it to the top.”

“I know it’s pretty minor in the grand scheme of things,” Holden said. Experimentally he cycled the door a couple more times to see if the noise was consistent. “I just can’t remember the last time a squeak stuck around this long."

He meant to sound casual. Evidently he failed, because Naomi’s expression softened. "I miss her too.”

Holden sagged a little, like a spring losing tension. “I wanted to believe it was a bad dream. Or a lie to make me admit something. The Laconians sprang it on me suddenly. I think they were trying to surprise me into letting something slip.” He could still remember the feeling like a dunk in ice. Like a confirmation of his worst nightmares.

“Did they tell you how it happened?”

“Some. 'Likely involved in terrorist activities’ was I think how they put it.”

“She saved my life. She saved the whole underground.” And Naomi told him the story of the jailbreak, the traitor, and Clarissa’s last stand.

Holden couldn’t speak. In broad strokes, what Naomi told him wasn’t far off from what he’d already guessed. But he hadn’t fully appreciated just how much he owed to Clarissa’s sacrifice. Naomi’s life was one item at the top of a very long list.

Naomi pulled him into a hug, and Holden broke. His body shook with the quiet sobs that he’d never allowed himself on Laconia. She murmured soothing words whose content mattered less than their tone. He could feel some of her tears wet on his forehead. He wasn’t sure how long they stood there like that. He had the raw sense of having burned a deep infection out of a wound.

“I’ve got a few spare hours,” Naomi said. “I could grab some tools. We could fix it together."

"That,” Holden said, voice still ragged, “would be great.”

#the expanse #Jim Holden #Clarissa Mao #fanfic #spoilers #Tiamat's Wrath Spoilers #my fanfic #my post

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felicismagic18873 · 5 years

Text

Beyond the Blaze(3)

Summary: 4 Years old, Alyssa Potter finds her life taking a magical turn as she steps into a world of cute green giants, talking robots and misunderstood aliens. All of it is almost enough to make her forget the probable destruction of her own world.

Word Count:2.2k

"You daren't meddle with fate." The deep voice echoed in the crystal plains. Her hair floated around her and Melina felt determination and fear grip her insides.

"She is not fated to perish in this way...her destiny lies elsewhere."

It was eerie to look into the abyss and see it looking back. A sweet sound echoed around her and Melina felt like she was being laughed at.

"I see." There was silence for a short while as if the entity was contemplating "What will you have me do, Daughter of magic "

"You marked her," The air grew cold, it was a secret not meant to be spoken, "marked her as your own." She continued insistingly, pushing down the fear that rode up her throat "She belongs to you Death, not to me nor to mother. She can cross over, you can let her do it."

"And send her to a world unknown?"

Melina hesitated for a while, but she had firm faith in her child. She will find a way to survive. "If it can save her, yes."

"Surely you aren't foolish enough to think there wouldn't be a price."

"I am willing to negotiate." Melina sat down on the ground, this was going to take a while.

----------------------------

The howling of the wind made the stone walls seem even more frightening. Professor Minerva McGonagall raised a hand and touched one of the walls. The stone walls that once thrummed with magic felt cold and empty under her fingertips.

"Minerva?" Minerva let out a relieved breath and turned around. She wasn't sure how long she could stand there. A place once filled with the laughter of children, now just a sign of what was coming.

"Are the rumors true, Albus?"

Albus Dumbledore, "I'm afraid so, Professor. But you already knew that." Albus looked at her over the top of his half-moon glasses in his annoyingly endearing away.

"This is it then, the beginning of the end."

Albus chuckled, the voice echoing in the, for once, silent corridor. "Now, now Minerva. Letting go of hope is indeed the most grievous of sins."

"I have to disagree, Albus." She turned towards one of the windows and looked out. "At this point holding onto hope is foolish. Do you not feel it? In the air."

"Feel what, my dear friend?"Albus stepped next to her and she knew he was looking at the same thing as her. The abandoned forbidden forest.

"Precisely. There is nothing to feel. The magic, it's flowing back to Earth. Soon, it will be drawn from our bodies as well. What then, Albus?"

"Perhaps-" Albus looked thoughtful for a while. "Perhaps this was how it was meant to be, Minerva. Maybe time was too tired of waiting for us to change so it took reigns in its own hands."

"And where will this take us?"

"Beyond." Albus let out a small smile." Beyond the petty prejudices and boundaries. Do you not see my dear? This is a trial for us. We were put through one hundred of years ago and came out lacking. She is testing us."

"Who is?" Minerva asked although she had an inkling about the answer.

"The entity whose existence was forgotten over time. Whose wrath and mercy hold equal power. Hecate. The Bestower of Magic."

------------------------------

Dawn broke the cold night with a soft burst of color. While the rest of the neighborhood slept unaware Alyssa Potter was sitting on her bed, reading her storybooks for the last time. She had said goodbye to her Uncle, Aunt and Cousin even though it had only earned her, 'She has finally gone mad, Vernon.'

"Its time, Alyssa."

Alyssa broke out of her thoughts looking up with a wavering smile.

"Do-Do I have to Mel?" She asked with a brokenly even though she knew she had to. The magic she always felt around her was leaving. It felt.... empty.It made her feel scared and uncomfortable.

"Yes, You do. But never be afraid, My love for I am with you."

Alyssa smiled and took her hand, feeling the sensation of traveling the way only Melina could.

It is dark, was Alyssa's first thought. It felt like the only light came from Melina and the blackness was trying to take that away as well. She looked up with a question on her lips, before stopping abruptly.

"Mel-Wha...Are you- crying? Why are you crying, Melina?"

"I'm going to miss you my dear heart. J-Just know that all I have done and am doing is for you just for you."

"What are you saying? You're coming with me. Aren't you -Mel?" Melina shook her head with a sad smile. Her eyes looked sorrowful as if she had lost something precious and maybe because she was.

"I am not leaving you here!"

"Ally-"

Alyssa shouted fearfully, "No! She is taking away magic from everyone. You're magic Melina. Wha...If the magic is gone then...You promised Mel...You promised you'll always be there!" Tears rolled down her cheek.

"And I will be. The change won't affect me. It might take some time but I promise we'll see each other again." Melina knelt down, wiping her cheeks with her fingers.

Alyssa took a deep breath, the admission making her racing heart calm" Promise?"

"Promise. Now you need to go, we can't hold back her power for much longer."

"Okay"

"I-I love you Mel."

"I Love you as well. Now go. Just keep walking and whatever happens no matter what you hear don't look back."

So Alyssa did.

She walked and walked until she could no more. Then she rested and walked more. She hummed under her breath. Walked. Walked.

One step after another.

On and on.

Until her body gave out and she collapsed. She could see the light but she could never reach it. It seemed every step she took, it moved further away.

She closed her eyes and whispered, "Promise."

Then the darkness took over her.

--------------------------

"Let me tell you a story, dear heart." Melina felt Alyssa nod her head from her lap.

Alyssa could feel her eyes dropping but struggled to keep them open.

"At the beginning of time, when Mother Earth Gaea created mankind with her power the other beings also wanted their own creations. Aphrodite created some of the most beautiful creatures, High Elves, and Veela-"

"Elves? Like-Like House-elves Mel? But...But house-elves ar'n't pretty." She interrupted with her wide-eyed question.

Melina chuckled, "No not house elves, you'll understand soon. That is, if you listen." Melina had spent the last few weeks teaching her about different creatures of magic so she wasn't surprised that the thought confused her.

Alyssa buried her face into Melina's dress, smiling bashfully.

"As I was saying, Aphrodite created High Elves and Veela but they lacked the ability to survive in this harsh world. Her creations were too beautiful, innocent and pure. Hence Hecate, the goddess of magic,-"

"Your Mama!" Alyssa giggled.

"Yes, my mother," She caressed Alyssa's head. " gifted them enough magic to survive, as she did with many other creatures like merman and dragons. They repaid her by never forgetting her gift, keeping her at the highest regard. Now as darkness in the hearts of men increased, Hecate gifted the purest of them magic to brighten their heart and balance out the darkness."

"Like the great Merlin."

"Yes, Merlinus Caledonensis was one of the first to be gifted. Mankind flourished with the power, it seemed like all was well." Melina looked far away, gathering her thoughts.

"But darkness it seems never goes out, it just fades for some time." She sighed, " Greed for power made mankind or more specifically wizards do unmentionable things."

Alyssa sat up, looking at Melina with wide eyes. "What did they do?"

"They took and took until there was nothing left. So many creations of magic were destroyed by their hands. They twisted the wishes of their Bestower to suit themselves, they still do. Hecate's children were captured and captivated to make them reveal their knowledge. Killed for a chance to take their power. Most of them chose to return to their Mother, deserting Earth but others could not."

"Did High-High elves des-deser-leave as well?"

"Desert. And yes, Wizards chose to mock them by calling these creatures Elves."

"Oh", Alyssa looked down at her lap "That's not very nice."

Melina's smile had a sad tinge to it, "No it's not. And it has made her angry."

"Your mama?" Alyssa tried to understand the concept of such -wrong- in her mind.

"Yes, she-she doesn't like what they have done using magic. The hurt they have caused, so she wants to take away their magic "

" I understand." Melina looked at her with what seemed like surprise and pride. "Understand what?"

Alyssa looked at Melina with a childlike strength, "When someone gives you a gift, you take care of it. Like-Like when you gave me this," she pointed to the lily necklace hanging around her small neck. "this is a gift. I-I have to take care of it. If I don't that's not nice and you'll take it back. A gift should be protected"

Melina put a hand on her head, "Such wisdom for such a young one. But isn't the point of a gift-giving without expecting something back?"

Alyssa looked thoughtful, "I dunno, I'm just four Melina!"

Melina laughed, "I thought you were a big girl?"

"I-I am! But sometimes I wanna be little too!"

"Okay, okay." Melina pulled her back into her lap, burying her nose into her hair and inhaled the scent that was purely Alyssa.

Alyssa reached out a hand and picked a strand of Melina's hair, twisting it on her finger.

Sometimes it looked white and sometimes it looked yellow, she couldn't understand what color it was, "What happens when she takes it away Mel? Is she gonna take mine too? My Magic? My gift?"

"Not yours, My love. Never yours. I-I promise."

Alyssa couldn't imagine a life without magic. How could magic even go away? It was everywhere! How could- But if-

"But if magic is gone-will....will you go too Mel?"

"No.No, My love. I'll never leave you. I live in your heart you know, just like you live in mine."

Alyssa burrowed in her embrace, something told her she should treasure all the moments they have together.

--------------------------------

Light. Light and Green.

Something was holding her. Air. Alyssa could feel air in her face as if she was flying on a broom.

Roar

Her eyes opened wide. Green.Blue.

Big Blue Eyes were looking at her.

"Cute Teddy" She giggled drowsily caressing the giants face.

The big green person tilted his head,

"Little Girl okay??" It-He?- spoke loudly.

Alyssa cuddled into the Giant person's chest, "Emmm Yes. But I wanna sleep."

"Sleep?"

"Yes, Sleep."

"Little Girl, Sleep."' Alyssa felt her being lowered down and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"No." She cuddled into him, sighing with content.

"No?" She felt the rumble of his chest and shook her head to confirm it.

"No." And darkness greeted her as an old friend.

--------------------------------

"There is a Tiny person on Hulk. A Tiny Person. On Hulk. Is anyone seeing this? Why is there a tiny person on the Hulk? This is precious. JARVIS-"

"Recorded and saved, Sir."

"I knew I liked you for a reason, you take after your daddy."

"Always a pleasure, Sir." Tony kept looking at the chi-nope! Tiny person, cuddling-cuddling-with the Hulk on his very very expensive and very much damaged couch.

"I think the word you're looking for is 'child' Stark," Barton stated with a tired but amused smirk coming to stand behind me.

And Tony. Just to show Barton what a smirk actually looked like, signed JARVIS to retract the helmet. "Nope. I know exactly what I am saying Legolas. Because this," He gestured around with his arm, he made a mental note to improve the mobility of the suit. " is a no child zone. More so now. Hence the only logical conclusion is that that must be a tiny person."

Hulk was looking at them with a steady gaze.

Barton just rolled his eyes at his antics, "I'll get the child." He stepped forward towards the couch.

"Hulk smash." A low rumbling voice raised the hair on Clint's arms.

"Barton, I suggest you step back." Steve who had just stepped into the room tried to diffuse the situation. Hulk is holding a child, Steve thought hysterically but tried to calm himself. He could fix this, they just needed Banner back,

"Hulk doesn't mean anything by it." Barton stated casually, " Those are probably the only words he knows." He tried to reach for the child only to be pulled back by Tony.

"Stark! You're wearing a freaking metal suit. Not all of us are super soldie-" His mouth shut as he realized exactly why Stark had pulled him away.

Hulk was growling at them, actually growling. Like a wolf or something-did wolves growl?- Clint just didn't care and stepped back instinctively.

"Buddy, I think you need to retreat. Green Bean seems to like the....child" Tony said the word as if it physically pained him. " Jarv Baby. Face recognition."

"It is already under process. Honestly, Sir." Tony could almost hear the exasperation in his AI's voice and grinned in return.

#Irondad #Harrypotter #tony stark has a heart #female!harrypotter #beyond the blaze #fanfiction #kid!fic #Tony Stark

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timetrickster · 5 years

Text

Aloha Oe X Edith Nox Crossover Episode 7: Necromancing The Girl

As always hope ye enjoy! @cometworks

Tag: @thelysstener @coloursintheblur

FADE IN:

INT. EDITH’S LIVING ROOM.

After the battle for the reforging of EDITH’S true self. JUSTIN was attacked by long lost pain. EDITH comforts JUSTIN as he was still frightened from the long-dead ghosts of the Time Walkers. He makes heavy breaths as the effect of SORROW EDITH’S powers had been lasting.

EDITH

I don’t know what to do?!

UMI

Honey, the Sorrow version of yourself. You have to summon her and take away the effect.

EDITH closes her eyes tightly and trying to summon her Sorrow form but to no avail.

EDITH

It’s not working! (She cries)

UMI

Breath sweetie. Just take your time.

She does so, breathing slowly and closing her eyes. Then opens them summoning the Navy aura and placing her hand on JUSTIN’S forehead then taking away the effect of her power. As his heavy breathing stopped. The Navy aura disperses and EDITH puts him to sleep leaving him on the couch to rest.

CUT TO:

INT. EDITH’S LIVING ROOM. NEXT DAY. MORNING

JUSTIN wakes up holding his head from a major headache. He finds a cup of water on the coffee table waiting for him and immediately drinks it. ROBYN walks in and rushes to his side.

ROBYN

“Hey, sweetie! You okay?” She says in sign.

JUSTIN nods and notices a mirror onto his left. Seeing his metallic skin and feeling it. Hearing the scratching sound of metal of his fingers dragging across.

ROBYN (cont’d)

“My wife told me that part of your face was burned off by Wrathful Edith. Are you okay?”

JUSTIN

Yes, I’m fine Ms. Lux.

He raises his left hand, and his hand glowed blue time energy. His face healed returned to normal.

ROBYN

“How did you?”

JUSTIN smiles.

JUSTIN

Time healing.

ROBYN like EDITH was bright-eyed as if humongous stars filled them.

ROBYN

“You’re a fascinating little alien.”

JUSTIN smiles and laughs.

CUT TO:

INT. SOL STUFF. MORNING

NOEMI is working at the family store. The store that NOEMI’S absentee parents had left behind. Meanwhile, PERIWINKLE, NOEMI’S little sister is sitting in his office. JUSTIN walks in with a smile as always.

JUSTIN

Morning Noemi!

NOEMI

Morning Jus! Hey, your face is healed!

JUSTIN laughs.

JUSTIN

Yup! Edith mentioned you had a store, wanted to come to see it!

NOEMI

Oh! Well… (Like a showman he raises both arms) Welcome to Sol Stuff! We’re like a hybrid antique, library, and pawn store.

It was a rather small store, that gives that “old time” feeling. It had a backroom entrance

JUSTIN

Did you say antique and library?! (His eyes were wide open)

NOEMI

Uh… yeah, why?

JUSTIN vanished and was looking at the antiques of this universe.

NOEMI (cont’d)

Justin? I hate it when it vanishes.

He walks around the store then finds him in the backroom doing intense scrutiny over different antiquities.

JUSTIN

Sorry for vanishing… I love history as a kid and I learned a bit of archeology on Earth. Oh, do you mind if I help?! Please.

NOEMI

Yeah sure, I have to run a few errands, can you watch Periwinkle?

JUSTIN

I don’t think I’ve met your little sister before.

NOEMI

Allow me to introduce you.

He walks to his office and brings in PERIWINKLE to the backroom.

NOEMI (cont’d)

Birdy, this is Justin.

PERIWINKLE

THE ALIEN?! OOH! Hi! Nice to meet you! (She had this smile on her face.)

JUSTIN having the knowledge on having two little sisters acted accordingly.

JUSTIN

It’s nice to meet you too Peri! (He points to the Star Diamond necklace she worse) You know your brother got this necklace for you on a planet my adopted parents come from?

PERIWINKLE

Yes! He told me that you’re a prince of a flower planet!

JUSTIN laughs a little.

JUSTIN

I very much am. This special necklace comes from my aunt’s kingdom. Which floats high above the clouds. The stars would fall and they would make beautiful jewelry.

PERIWINKLE

COOL!

JUSTIN

Mhm. And I taught this really cool trick to your big brother to awaken the star. (He turns his head to Noemi.)

He motions him to snap his fingers. NOEMI nods and does so. The Star inside the diamond star-shaped necklace awakened. Shining an immense brightness. PERIWINKLE looks on amazed and she immediately hugs her big brother.

PERIWINKLE

Thank you. (She squishes herself against her big brother)

He returns the hug and a smile.

NOEMI

I’ll be gone for a while, Justin will be watching you. Behave okay Birdy?

PERIWINKLE

Yes, Noemi!

NOEMI leaves the store and JUSTIN and PERIWINKLE work around the store together. Organizing it and making it look presentable. The two have a wondrous time together as they fixed up the store. A few hours had passed by and it was the afternoon now. They sat at the counter and researched a bunch of the artifacts.

NOEMI had just returned with a few books in hand and a bag of food. He is surprised by the state of the now organized store. Unable to comprehend an organized store, JUSTIN & PERIWINKLE stand at the counter with both arms up and saying.

JUSTIN & PERIWINKLE

Ta-da!

NOEMI

You guys cleaned and organized the store?! I love it!

He smiles and caresses his little sister’s hair.

NOEMI (cont’d)

I brought some food by the way! Why don’t you two enjoy, while I take over the counter for now!

JUSTIN

Come on Peri, let’s research the Butterfly of Kaze.

PERIWINKLE

Yes, sir!

The two grab some food and head to the back room. A customer comes in, a lady also a necromancer. How can you tell? The backpack she’s carrying around. She was blonde which was a rarity among necromancers, she simply meets eyes with him and gives a weird and awkward smile then goes straight to the book section. NOEMI nervous as well tries to work up the courage to talk to her. JUSTIN with PERIWINKLE at his side suddenly appears and whisper which scare him.

NOEMI

(Loudly whispers) DON’T DO THAT! Oh, my Fates… (He breathes heavy while holding a hand over his chest.)

Meanwhile, JUSTIN is laughing silently and rolling on the floor, while PERIWINKLE does the same without rolling on the floor.

PERIWINKLE

Sorry, but it was funny. Plus Justin saw the pretty girl and had a feeling you liked her.

NOEMI looks at her and points to the back room door, JUSTIN crawls his way with PERIWINKLE following. NOEMI hyping himself up to talk to the necromancer girl. He nervously yet awkwardly walks toward her.

NOEMI

Hello…

NECROMANCER GIRL

Hi…

She was nervous too.

NOEMI

Finding everything alright?

NECROMANCER GIRL

Uh… yeah. Just looking for books.

She stood quite close near the Necromancer books.

NOEMI

Are you a Necromancer?

NECROMANCER GIRL

Uh… (She was scared by the question.) No… (She slowly stepped away.)

NOEMI feeling he scared her off. He reacted immediately.

NOEMI

Wait!

She stops and looks at him. NOEMI removes the Perception Filter, revealing his jet black wings. She was surprised by this and he was nervous once more with his wings on.

NECROMANCER GIRL

You’re a… Necromancer too?

NOEMI nods.

NECROMANCER GIRL (cont’d)

How did you know I was one? And how did you do that?

NOEMI

I used to hollow out a backpack too. Um… that’s a complicated story to tell.

NECROMANCER GIRL

Oh… really? Might I know the gentleman’s name?

NOEMI

Noemi Sol. Shall I know the beautiful lady’s name?

ARGENTO

Argento Mani. (She holds her hand out for a shake)

He accepts the shaking of hands and things return to awkward.

NOEMI

Uh… you have really pretty hair…

Sh blushes and hides her face with a slight “aw” from the compliment. The light reflects off her rare blonde hair and wings, giving this silvery white color which NOEMI finds mesmerizing.

NOEMI (cont’d)

Your hair… it’s uh… it’s silver… you look like an angel…

She blushes again,

ARGENTO

Thank you… sorry… I’m just really nervous when I like a guy… (Realizes what she just said) I mean!

NOEMI

(Surprised by that, he quickly responds) I’m nervous when I like a girl too… uh I mean… uh… Do you want to go out sometime? (He tries to smile and look cool but it looks awkward)

She laughs it off and smiles at him which makes him laugh and smile too. Meanwhile, from the counter, JUSTIN & PERIWINKLE are playing sneaky sneaks as they see NOEMI & ARGENTO hitting it off.

ARGENTO

(She takes notice of them) Um… I think your siblings are watching us.

NOEMI turns around to see both JUSTIN & PERIWINKLE quickly hiding as he turns, now embarrassed.

NOEMI

Dammit, you guys!

ARGENTO

(She laughs) That’s adorable and yes.

NOEMI

Yes?

ARGENTO

Yes… I would love to go out sometime… um, but can you help me find a book on Necromancy first?

NOEMI

Really?! I mean… Yes! Um… sorry, I’m not very good at this to be perfectly honest.

ARGENTO

That’s okay.

NOEMI

Oh!

He looks at the shelves full of magic spell books and finds a few Necromancy spell books, at least three he has so far.

NOEMI

With our magic being so… quiet… I only have the three.

ARGENTO

That sounds perfect. Um… do you want to go to Maple Brews sometime?

NOEMI

I… uh… (He breathes in)

ARGENTO she laughs at his nervousness finding it cute.

NOEMI

(He lets out his breath) I’d love to.

ARGENTO

Great! Um, here’s my number, (She hands him a slip of paper with her phone number.)

NOEMI

I’ll ring you up at the counter. (He smiles.)

He grabs the three books and brings them to the counter with ARGENTO following. JUSTIN & PERIWINKLE weren’t behind the counter though. She pays him, he hands her the change and her purchase and she goes on her merry way. NOEMI looks around the store and each aisle for both JUSTIN & PERIWINKLE.

NOEMI

Peri? Justin? Where the heck did you guys go? (He whispers to himself.)

He looks up to see them on the ceiling with JUSTIN clutching his fingers like claws and PERIWINKLE on his back.

JUSTIN

Hi.

NOEMI

How did you guys get up there?!

JUSTIN stands up and hangs upside down without any falling down.

JUSTIN

Gravity boots dude. I get bored a lot.

PERIWINKLE lets go and used her air magic to float down safely. JUSTIN turns off the Gravity Boots and does a flip landing on the floor.

PERIWINKLE

Noemi’s got a girlfriend!

NOEMI

I don’t.

PERIWINKLE

Yes, you do! Tell him, Justin!

JUSTIN he nods as he looks toward NOEMI, agreeing with PERIWINKLE.

NOEMI

I don’t!

JUSTIN

Dude, come on, I know how it feels. I was hella nervous too when it came to a girl I liked a lot. Now we’re dating!

NOEMI

She…

JUSTIN

She made your heart stop for a second, didn’t she?

NOEMI

Yeah…

JUSTIN

I felt exactly the same way with Hoku… my heart just stopped and I saw that her beautiful, beautiful eyes… and I knew I was in love with her.

NOEMI

That sounds nice… but what if I mess it up?!

PERIWINKLE

You won’t!

NOEMI

What if I do?

JUSTIN

Hey! Dude… I’ll tell you again, I know how you feel. Everything that you’re feeling right now, I felt the same way. You just have to believe in yourself and go with the flow of things, stay calm and be her friend and if you guys advance… then maybe you’ll find out what happens next.

CUT TO:

INT. EDITH’S LIVING ROOM. AFTERNOON.

The friends and PERIWINKLE are all hanging out together. They’re having a fun little lunch. NOEMI was now extremely nervous about his soon to be date with ARGENTO. EDITH the lovable ball of curiosity as always she jumps to help him.

EDITH

Noemi, you’ll be fine!

NOEMI is sitting on the ground with his arms holding his knees and his wings holding him like a baby.

NOEMI

NO, I WON’T! (He makes a face of distress and worry)

EDITH

Yes, you will! You just have to believe in yourself!

PERIWINKLE

Yeah! You got this!

NOEMI

I’m gonna mess it up! I know I will! I don’t know if I can go anymore!

EDITH, JUSTIN, PERIWINKLE, VIOLET

NO!

EDITH

Noemi, I love you. I love you very very much. But I believe in you that you can go and do this.

PERIWINKLE

Yeah! I love you, Noemi, you got this!

JUSTIN

Yeah, dude. You’re just overthinking it, you’ll be fine.

VIOLET

Man up and don’t be a bitch.

EDITH

Violet!

VIOLET

Sorry… uh, I love you, Noemi. But you seriously got to be more confident in yourself. (She comes closer to comfort him.) I believe in you buddy. You’re like my dorky annoying winged necromancing brother. I love you, dude… and I know you can do it.

The words coming from VIOLET, a person whom he disliked since the beginning of meeting each other. Finally said something nice for a change instead of something even harsher.

NOEMI

Thanks, V.

VIOLET

You’re welcome, Noemi. (She gives a brief laugh and a smile.) But if you don’t do this, you’re a bitch.

NOEMI

(Smirks and laughs.) Screw you too. (He reaches over for a hug.)

VIOLET gladly accepts it and patted him on the back.

CUT TO:

INT. MAPPLE BREWS. AFTERNOON.

It had been a few weeks since both NOEMI & ARGENTO had met at the shop. They were like love birds, literally due to the fact that all Necromancers have wings. They both are sitting together, enjoying their drinks. Surprisingly both the same drink, raspberry tea. They’re actually hitting it off perfectly.

ARGENTO

How’s Peri?!

NOEMI

She’s doing good! She’s doing great in school too.

ARGENTO

Aw! That’s good to hear. I love that ball of cuteness.

NOEMI

She loves you too. (He makes a little laugh) I think it’s because you make me happy.

ARGENTO

Aw! She’s adorable! Can we please plan a day where we go on a picnic or something?!

NOEMI

Of course, she’s gonna love that.

ARGENTO

Hey, I never got to ask, where are your parents?

NOEMI froze a little, then takes a simple breath.

NOEMI

They left the picture years ago…

ARGENTO

I’m… sorry… I didn’t mean to.

NOEMI

No, don’t be sorry. My friend Edith taught me to let go of my anger towards them. I wouldn’t want Peri to see me like that.

ARGENTO places her hand on his, which he notices. At first, he was surprised, but then slowly comes to hold her hand, which makes them both slowly fall in love with one another.

ARGENTO

You’re an amazingly strong person.

NOEMI

Thanks. (He has a slight smile.)

ARGENTO

Have you ever used your Necromancy magic?

NOEMI

Um… yeah. When I was ten, I revived someone by accident which knocked me out for ten days. My recovery took two months.

ARGENTO

Oh my…

NOEMI

Why do you ask?

ARGENTO

Um… I was reading through the Necromancy spell books and I found a new way of revival.

NOEMI

Really? The only attempts of other spells and rituals tried by other Necromancers leads to horrid deaths.

ARGENTO

I know, but my research in the books have led me to possibly full resurrection.

He leans in closer, due to interest.

NOEMI That’s not possible.

ARGENTO

I know it doesn’t sound that way, but it’s in the spell books. If we just follow the directions right, we might be able to resurrect things fully. Without any side effects. Will you help me?

A few minutes of silence between them fill NOEMI’S head. Believing and wanting to be more confident and not the shy boy he normally is.

NOEMI

I’ll help you.

ARGENTO smiles with glee and gets up to kiss him on the cheek.

ARGENTO

I’ll see you soon sweetie. (She smiles) I love you.

NOEMI shocked by the words, despite hearing it a couple times from her, it still made his heart burst with love.

NOEMI

I love you too. (He smiles)

The two leave and enjoy the rest of their day together.

CUT TO

INT. EDITH’S LIVING ROOM. NIGHT

A few days later, it was night, it was time for the new spell to be performed. NOEMI was getting ready after preparing dinner for PERIWINKLE.

NOEMI

Ok then, Peri, finish up your dinner. Edith and Justin will be watching over you. You better eat your veggies young lady. (He holds one finger, trying to be imposing) finish up your Caster homework and don’t stay up too late.

PERIWINKLE

How come I have to eat those yucky things when you get to have fun kissing Argento?

She says sarcastically.

NOEMI

Peri!

PERIWINKLE

Sorry. (She laughs and smiles)

NOEMI

We’re gonna perform some new necromancy spells.

PERIWINKLE had lost her child-like wonder as the word, “Necromancy” was spoken, she instantly became concerned.

PERIWINKLE

No! Please don’t!

She rushes over to hug him, holding his waist and grabbing some parts of his long coat. Concerned for her now, he kneels and hugs her.

NOEMI

Hey, hey, what’s wrong?

PERIWINKLE

You’re gonna get hurt!

NOEMI

No, I won’t. I promise I won’t.

PERIWINKLE

Yes, you will! Like the last time! You didn’t wake up and I got so scared and I don’t want my big brother to die! Please don’t leave me alone again! (She cries in his arms.)

NOEMI

(She holds her face) Hey, look at me. I’m never ever leaving you. Okay? I love you… and there isn’t anything in the world that would want me to leave my little sister all alone. I promise I’ll be safe.

PERIWINKLE

You promise, promise?

NOEMI

I promise, promise Birdy. (He smiles)

She hugs him one last time before he leaves for the night. PERIWINKLE sits on the couch and crosses her arms, now overthinking about it.

CUT TO

EXT. ROOFTOP. NIGHT

NOEMI had flown in on ARGENTO who had already set up a ritual circle in chalk. She rushes toward him for a hug and a kiss.

ARGENTO

You made it!

NOEMI

Yeah, let’s get this started.

The two stand at two ends of the circle, within the middle of the circle, it was a long-dead raven. The stench of death was a foul a mere feet within its vicinity was entering an area of death. They place both hands on the ritual circle, their hands glow that light green looking wickedly dangerous. They instantly feel the pain of their magic taking a toll on both of them. The magic generated by them fuels the magic circle and glows the same wickedly light green color.

The magic flies into the corpse of the raven, raising it as if some unknown force carried it into the air. Infusing it within the corpse of the raven as it’s lifeless body had regained motion and life. They both let go of the circle and grab each other and see the spell work its magic. The raven’s corpse lands in the middle and jumps back to life.

ARGENTO

We did it?! WE DID IT! (She grabs Noemi’s face and kisses him.)

They both cheer for their achievement and success, the raven suddenly starts screaming as if it were in excruciating pain. Concerned ARGENTO slowly walks toward the circle. NOEMI concerned is behind her, all of a sudden the raven begins to morph into something… monstrous. An abomination if you see it that way. Most people would cower in fear due to these necromantic powers as the magic of this sort is rumors of horrid deaths and mere destructions and manipulations of souls and death.

The raven morphed into somewhat of a humanoid being. Having developed a grey skin toned body and hands forming more claw-like ends.

RAVEN MONSTER

I HAVE TO THANK YOU BOTH!

His voice gurgled as he spoke, as his body morphed and resurrected. Half his face was a shadow, glowing red eyes, while marks on his toned and grey skin were etched with symbols and marks. Glowing the wickedly light green through them.

RAVEN MONSTER (cont’d)

I never expected this. Any of this, (he laughs)

His laugh echoed despite not being in a closed room.

NOEMI

Who are you?! (He stands in front of Argento)

RAVEN MONSTER

I don’t know… (laughs like a crazy person) I’ve never been summoned before, especially in a vessel which, despite being an animal. Makes me all the more terrifying.

ARGENTO

Wait… we were resurrecting the raven! We didn’t soul summon you!

RAVEN MONSTER

Fortunately, child, you did. There is no such thing as a full resurrection in Necromancy. You can manipulate the zombies, phantoms, vampires… summon souls. Reanimating yes, but back to life… (He laughs again.)

NOEMI

Who are you?!

RAVEN MONSTER

I think I was… uh, Necromancer. No… I was a Necromancer! It’s all coming back now… I did spells and rituals like you… except I did worst things…

NOEMI summons a blast of necro magic in the form of skulls immediately firing it. Hitting RAVEN MONSTER but it proved ineffective.

RAVEN MONSTER

Nice job kid. I would’ve done the same thing.

He dashes quickly toward NOEMI and grabs him by the neck.

RAVEN MONSTER (cont’d)

I sense you’re a Necromancer too. Both of you. I also sense that you boy. You never mastered your magic. Huh?

He throws him across the roof. ARGENTO rushes over toward NOEMI.

RAVEN MONSTER (cont’d)

As a former Necromancer… I am thoroughly and utterly disappointed in you. To reconcile this, I will take your soul. Seems fair right?

He raises his claw-like hand and begins to drain NOEMI’S soul. ARGENTO tries to fight back, using her powers to play tug of war for his soul. The fight is intervened by JUSTIN & EDITH. JUSTIN blasting the RAVEN MONSTER with a blue time blast. EDITH roaring with her wrathful blasts both stopping him from draining NOEMI’S soul.

NOEMI

How did you guys find us?

EDITH

Emotional distress.

JUSTIN

Plus glimpses of precognition.

NOEMI

Lovely. Thanks, guys. And, oh… Um, this is Argento… my girl… friend.

ARGENTO

You’re so cute when you’re flustered.

JUSTIN & EDITH

Nice to meet you!

The RAVEN MONSTER roars and with his wings morphed large enough to look like the most towering monster there was. Wings of the night as they were larger than NOEMI’S & ARGENTO’S wings.

RAVEN MONSTER

I am disappointed… this New Era… Necromancers are weak, spineless and mistreated! Now I’m surrounded by children!

He rushes at them grabbing both JUSTIN & EDITH simply hanging them by their clothes.

RAVEN MONSTER (cont’d)

You smell of Empath magic! (He turns his beak toward Justin.) AND YOU! You smell of something else… what are you! (He throws Edith away.)

JUSTIN

Just an alien from another world. (He blasts him with time energy)

He drops them rolls backward back to the group. He freezes the RAVEN MONSTER in time and takes a breather.

JUSTIN (cont’d)

You guys have to figure this out, I can’t hold him long enough.

ARGENTO

I don’t know! It was supposed to be a resurrection of a raven! Not a soul summon of a dead Necromancer…

EDITH

Well is there any reversal spells?!

ARGENTO

I don’t know!

She begins to feel a heavyweight pounding on her chest as she breathes in and out quickly. NOEMI tries to calm her down, knowing the feeling too similar.

NOEMI

Look at me! Look at me, sweetie! (He places one hand on her cheek)

She turns her face toward him.

NOEMI (cont’d)

Breathe.

She does so and slowly rebuilds herself from the stress. The RAVEN MONSTER unfreezes and looks around like a crazy person, despite being that already.

RAVEN MONSTER

What did you do? You froze me in time? How?! TELL ME?!

JUSTIN

Well, you’re clearly off your rocker, but I can’t tell you the secret of my people!

RAVEN MONSTER

Don’t worry. (He dashes toward him grabbing him by the neck.) I’d thought I’d beat it out of you! (He squeezes Justin’s neck tighter.)

Unknown to the RAVEN MONSTER not knowing JUSTIN has a second metal skin underneath his organic one. He tries to fake the choking as long as possible as the group tries to figure their way to reverse the spell.

RAVEN MONSTER (cont’d)

TELL ME! (He looks to his friends) MAKE HIM TELL ME NOW!

They simply ignore and comb through the books. Realizing this all being a ruse, his rage puts his scattered mind together. He throws JUSTIN toward them.

RAVEN MONSTER (cont’d)

Apologies, my mind was scattered.

His voice sounded more sophisticated and raspier.

JUSTIN

That doesn’t sound good.

RAVEN MONSTER

Now that as my mentality has restored. I can kill you all now.

NOEMI stands and uses his necromancy magic to defend his friends and his girlfriend. JUSTIN joins him helping with keeping him at bay. The RAVEN MONSTER blocks the necromancy magic but is affected by the time energy. PERIWINKLE suddenly drops in her eyes glowing light blue which represented her wind magic.

NOEMI

Birdy! NO!

He rushes toward his little sister, putting every known possible fear in him. He fires the blast of necro magic once more but he’d become rather weak. He begins to fall but PERIWINKLE catches him with her wind magic and floats him safely to the ground.

RAVEN MONSTER

(He snickers) What’s this? A little girl comes to fight me?

PERIWINKLE

That’s right, asshole.

RAVEN MONSTER

Ooh! I’m so afraid of a little girl. (He says sarcastically) What’s a little witch like you supposed to do to me?

PERIWINKLE

That’s Magic Caster to you bitch!

RAVEN MONSTER

WHAT?!

She blasts him with wind but surrounds both he and her in the eye of a tornado. NOEMI despite being weak has the strength to get back up. EDITH & ARGENTO make sure he is okay whilst JUSTIN tries to break through the tornado but the winds around were as solid as a wall. The RAVEN MONSTER not aware of her hidden talents as a Magic Caster was frightened.

PERIWINKLE

This is for hurting my big brother, asshole!

She charges a blast of wind in both hands, as the magic of hers glow that whitish blue color. Her magic so great and hiddenly powerful it forms a construct of wings.

RAVEN MONSTER

Spirit Magic…

PERIWINKLE blasts him with the charged wind blast and he slowly dissipates. The RAVEN MONSTER was no more and PERIWINKLE had returned to normal and ran to her big brother.

PERIWINKLE

Noemi! You okay?!

NOEMI

(With weakness in his voice) Of course Birdy. I promised you didn’t I?

PERIWINKLE

You did, I’m glad you’re safe.

NOEMI

Hey, Birdy. Meet Argento.

ARGENTO

Hello Periwinkle. (She smiles)

PERIWINKLE hugs her instantly.

PERIWINKLE

I love you already!

JUSTIN waves his hand over NOEMI giving him Time Healing in order to heal.

NOEMI

Birdy?

PERIWINKLE

Yes, Noemi?

NOEMI

Where did you learn how to curse young lady?

PERIWINKLE

Uh… you…

Everyone laughs and the night ends with the ritual circle destroyed and the books being hidden in within Sol Stuff. Meanwhile hidden in the darkness lies a figure in shadow but a familiar character. He speaks into a magic orb.

VODNIK

Mistress Neydolya! The Necromancers have successfully brought back the soul of the Dark Necromancer.

NEYDOLYA

Good… very good. Did you get the ritual spell and all the requirements needed?

VODNIK

Yes, my mistress!

NEYDOLYA

Good. Return at once. This shall be apart of the greater plan ahead.

CUT TO BLACK

END OF EPISODE 7

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thorongil82 · 5 years

Text

Silver Rings for a Web of Love - Chapter 2

Can also be read on AO3 here:

Chapter Summary: How to ask out your crush who doesn't trust you while keeping your superhero identity a secret.

Chapter: 2/?

Words: 8422 of 12023 total

A/N: Hi. Sorry for the delay. Just quickly, yes, I’ve seen Endgame. There will be no spoilers in this chapter, and I’m not sure how much I’ll use of it. Mainly, I’m still going to stick to my original idea. Onwards!

Chapter 2 - What to Say?

Song of the Chapter: Iris - The Goo Goo Dolls

“You are my paradise and I would happily get stranded on you for a lifetime."

~ Unknown

“Peter!” Aunt May cheerfully greets as she opens the apartment door up to her nephew, quickly enveloping the spiderling in a big hug.

“Sorry I'm so late,” Peter apologises as he wraps his arms around his aunt.

“Aw, nonsense,” May says as she waves him off, untangling her arms from his. “Tony let me know beforehand. Not that I think he should've taken away from our time together, but that's just how these things work out.”

May steps aside, her long auburn hair sweeping around behind her back as she lets Peter walk into the apartment. Over the years, more pictures of Peter seemed to take up the free space around the rooms. Whether it be along the walls or lining the drawers, more and more memories seemed to envelope the space the Parker's lived in. And, since the younger Parker has left to live in his own apartment with Ned, the number only seems to have grown exponentially, along with the pictures of her and Uncle Ben.

Apart from the great increase of family photos, everything appeared to be relatively the same as Peter stepped through the door. The layout still remained the same, no matter that the number of inhabitants had downgraded from two to one. From within the kitchen, the sizzling sounds of food frying over the stove-top hisses away with the slight flicks of smoke wafting over, while sitting on one side of the dining room table is Ned with his head face down in a laptop, only glancing up slightly to see his best friend walk through the door.

"So, you've already ordered Thai?" Peter jokes with a grin, only to receive a firm smack on the arm from his Aunt as she walks by. "Hey!"

"Don't 'Hey!' me, I'm still trying here," May defends as she moves into the kitchen.

“Hey, dude,” he greets, holding up his fist over the screen.

“Hey, Ned,” Peter replies, walking over and doing their special handshake. “What are you doing? I thought you finished your exams today.”

“Yeah, I did. I'm just helping Betty out with her assessment,” he answers with a giant beaming smile. “She was panicking about how she couldn't get what was wrong with it and that this was going to cost her everything, so I offered to have a look over it for her.”

“Isn't that a little counter-productive?” Peter questions as he slings the backpack he had been carrying all day off his shoulders and onto the floor.

“Not really,” Ned replies as his eyes drift back down to the screen. “A lot of people will get others to check their work for errors before it gets submitted, and that's mainly for jobs.”

“Doesn't that kinda depend on the work?” Peter inquires as he slides into the chair opposite his best friend.

“Not necessarily,” Ned responds. “Besides, I'm only really checking for spelling, grammar and punctuation. I'm not changing any facts or anything like that.”

“Wasn't Betty the one that was stronger in English?”

“Apparently it helps to have someone else read it,” Ned shrugs. “Something about it being a lot easier to spot someone else's mistakes than your own.”

“Still seems a little detrimental to me.”

“You do it for others at Stark Industries,” Ned retorts, not even looking up from his laptop.

“And wasn't that what you both did with Michelle for your college applications?” May adds from back within the kitchen.

“Okay, okay,” Peter surrenders, bringing his hands up as he slips his backpack off his shoulder and slides into the dining table chair opposite Ned. “I just think that it's a bit different. Exams and assessments are supposed to be about what you can do.”

“So, what did you and Stark do?” Ned questions, excited eyes flickering up from the laptop screen.

No matter how long Peter had been running around as Spider-Man, Ned always seemed just as excited about the prospect of his best friend having adventures with other superheroes. Perhaps getting even more excited over time.

“Not too much. Just helped with a new Iron Man suit design,” Peter explains. “Figuring out some of the adjustments and calibrations that would be needed to get it working the way Mr. Stark would like it to.”

The young Parker leans forward in his chair as a stupidly broad grin explodes across his face.

“Mr. Stark really wants to try and get one up on Shuri. He's trying to compress the nanites further so that he can fit more of them into his chest-piece. We're also going to make them move and react faster than ever. Mr. Stark's also planning to improve on the energy absorption system. He wants to not only absorb the kinetic energy of an impact, but also transfer it throughout the suit so that it can be released in different ways. Not just having it all explode around him, but also focusing it out into a directed blast.”

“But not just that!” Peter exclaims as the chair beneath him slides away across the apartment floor, pushed out as the spiderling leaps to his feet. “We're also looking at transforming the energy between states, so he can feed the harnessed energy into his power conduits, or use it for his repulsors, or thrusters, or any of his equipment! Obviously that part is the most complex. But if we can manage to make it work … I'm telling you, man. It's going to be so cool!”

“Awesome! When do we get to see it in action?” Ned asks as he leans forward, fully facing Peter as the laptop and Betty's assessment are completely forgotten.

“Uh … I dunno,” Peter admits, his face dropping slightly. “It depends. I mean, it's not necessarily going to work straight away. There will more than likely be some trial and error involved. Plus, it's not like it's going to be produced quickly. These things can take time.”

“I think it would be unlikely that Tony Stark would just wear it out right away anyway,” May adds in from the kitchen. “And hopefully we don't need him wearing it any time soon. I don't know about you both, but I've had enough alien attacks for quite a while.”

“Alien attacks are awesome!” Ned rebuts loudly, nearly jumping out of his chair. “You never know what new technology they'll bring in!”

“Yeah, and besides, it's not like it'd be the strangest thing Mr. Stark's ever done to just wear a suit for the sake of it,” Peter tags on, nodding his head.

“Still,” May seemingly grumbles as she shuffles from the sizzling wok to the bubbling saucepan, “I would be fine with another end of the world event not appearing for more than a few years. If not for my heart's sake.”

“Why's that?” both Peter and Ned question as they tilt their heads towards the older Parker with furrowed brows.

“Why do you think?!” May asserts strongly as she spins around, brandishing a wooden spoon at the pair. “My nephew goes gallivanting off in a skin-tight outfit at the first sign of danger! Maybe I'd like for him to be safe for more than a passing day or two!”

“Oh … uh, right,” Ned mumbles as he sheepishly turns his gaze back to the laptop screen he had momentarily forgotten about, while Peter slouches over and guiltily stares at the wooden tabletop, his face burning slightly at his Aunt's assertive tone.

It hadn't been a good start when May accidentally found out about Peter being Spider-Man. At first, after seeing him drag the mask off his head the day he turned down Mr. Stark's offer – and subsequentially passed the 'test' – she had been furious. Peter had never seen his aunt so enraged. He swears on his life that she could have even faced down Hulk in her state and the humongous muscular being would have backed down. He was forced to sit on the couch as she vehemently shrieked, yelled and teared up over how “stupidly reckless” he had been, by both sneaking around in his vigilante persona and hiding everything from her. He had thought it was bad enough, until Mr. Stark was then rung up and brought over, both teenage nephew and billionaire hero incurring her wrath. The eventual compromise, to which Peter could keep being Spider-Man while May could have some peace of mind, was an imposed curfew where there was no patrolling allowed while he should be at school, if he had homework, after 10 PM on a school night and after 11 PM if there wasn't any school the next day. He also had to answer every call and reply to every text message that she sent while he was zipping through the skyline, while also letting her know when he would be back, and she was to receive a full medical report if he ever got injured and needed to be treated at the compound upstate.

Over time that rage had diminished, far quicker than Peter had expected it to, until May seemed to have accepted that Peter could handle himself safely and responsibly – what wasn't reported on the news stations wouldn't hurt her – and the curfews all but disappeared. It had gotten so much better to the point that she was far more relaxed and happy with his heroics, despite her worries, and would even suggest for Spider-Man to come and offer his support to groups that she was helping with. This also included possibly joining in with a homeless shelter program that she had been planning on creating for a while. When Thanos and his alien friends attacked, Peter almost expected the curfews to return once he had finally been saved and flown back home, but instead May was so relieved that she hadn't truly lost another loved family member that she just wanted to make sure he was safe, sound, and enjoying life. And with her homeless shelter, now called F.E.A.S.T., taking off in the months of despair and confusion after The Decimation, both Peter and Spider-Man set to work helping draw publicity to the noble foundation, while Peter looked to aid May with taking care of the people who came.

Even so, despite her gradually growing optimism of Peter's superhero persona and actions, May would still grip onto an understandable fear that his selfless nature and desire to help, both she knew were very admirable traits, would someday result with her sweet nephew ending up like the loving uncle that had raised him to embrace those attributes. And occasionally it would bubble to the surface. Just like now.

The apartment falls quiet after May's short outburst, split only by the occasional click of keys pressed on Ned's keyboard and the sizzling of the stove top, before being broken as Ned glances up and meekly asks, “Are you going to get the same upgrades?”

“Maybe,” Peter answers, not entirely sure himself. “I might just get some of them. If any, probably the faster nanites.”

“And why did he ask you to go today? Don't you normally go tomorrow?”

“He's flying out tomorrow with Ms. Potts to spend some time away before the wedding.”

“Do you know where they're going?” May asks from the kitchen, having turned back to the wok.

“Well …” Peter drawls as he fishes through his backpack before pulling out the envelope. He opens it up and pulls out one of the boarding passes. “Looks like they're going to New Zealand.”

“Dude, did you steal Mr. Stark's pass?!” Ned exclaims, as the clattering sound of wood against metal comes from the kitchen, followed shortly afterwards by wood hitting the wooden floor.

“What?! N-No!” Peter abruptly leans back at Ned's exclamation. He watches May reach down and pick her wooden spoon off the floor before tossing it into the sink, her eyes looking at her nephew. “I was invited to the wedding. And to the celebrations beforehand.”

“Holy shit …” Ned gasps, his eyes going as wide as dinner plates.

“Honey, that's incredible!” May squeals as she moves round the kitchen bench and over to Peter, hugging him from behind and giving him a light kiss on the forehead.

“I still can't believe I was invited,” the spiderling admits as he shrinks into himself.

“The wedding's in a fortnight, right?” Ned asks, answered by a short nod from Peter. “So when are you flying out?”

“This Saturday.”

“Why that early?” May inquires, leaning back from her nephew.

“Well, Mr. Stark said that they wanted to spend some time just relaxing with the other Avengers before the wedding,” Peter explains as he fidgets with the envelope. “Take a break from superheroing.”

“Well, you look like you could do with the rest,” May says, her hand ruffling through her nephew's hair. “Do you mind if I see the invitation?”

“Yeah,” the young Parker shrugs as he searches through the envelope before pulling out an invite, also inadvertently dragging the other invite out with it. Peter separates the two beautifully decorated cards and hands one to his aunt, who glances at the other as she takes it before reading the information.

“Why do you have two?” she inquires, her eyes darting over the words.

“Uh, because I'm allowed to bring a guest,” Peter slowly answers. “I'd have asked either of you, but I know you're both busy.”

“Aw, man!” Ned moans, burying his face in his hands. “I almost wish I wasn't going to visit family. I'd have loved to go!”

“Ned! Don't you dare think about ditching your family, or poor Betty,” May scolds, fixing Ned with a glare.

“So, who're you asking, then?” Ned perks up again, his excitable state instantly replacing his short regrets.

“No one, probably,” Peter quietly answers.

“Why not?” May questions.

“Well, who else besides you two would make sense? No one else knows about me being Spider-Man. And besides, it's not like they'll keep it under wraps that well.”

“Just because you can't keep a secret doesn't mean other superheroes can't,” May reminds him as she hands him back the invitation.

“W-What?! I can keep a secret.”

“Please, Peter, you could barely keep your alter ego a secret,” she responds with a wave of her hand.

“Hey, barely anyone knows that I'm Spider-Man,” Peter retorts as he slides the invitation back into the envelope.

“And how many people have you told?” Ned asks with a raised eyebrow.

“N-No one,” Peter mumbles.

“Exactly,” his best friend nods, accepting the high five from a grinning May as she takes the scenic route round the table to get back into the kitchen.

“... Shut up,” Peter pouts, trying to fix them both with as intimidating a glare as he can – which is not very scary.

The apartment falls quiet once again save for the sizzling sounds in the kitchen and the occasional clicking of Ned's keyboard. Outside, Peter can hear the general hustle and bustle of Queens life in the early evening, along with the shouted voices from a flat downstairs that may require a visit from a man dressed in red and blue if it keeps up, and the muffled sounds of the TV a couple of doors over and across the hall that belongs to a particularly nice old lady named Mrs. Thompson who May has enjoyed tea with for the past ten years, before focusing in on a set of footsteps clunking heavily along the corridor until they come to a stop in front of May's door.

“Peter, can you get that please?” May calls out from the kitchen.

“Yeah, sure.”

Peter leaps up out of his chair and deftly springs across to the door. Opening up, his eyes widen as they fall upon a taller woman who's bushy brown hair is pulled back into a bun save for a couple of curly bangs that delicately fall down the side of her face, wearing a zipped up grey hoodie, a pair of torn and faded denim jeans, and bulky combat boots covering her feet.

“M-Michelle?!”

“Weren't expecting me, loser?”

“No, n-not really …” he admits. After a tentative gulp his lips part again, only to flounder as the vast number words he possesses in his vocabulary suddenly go on strike and refuse to work in any form – nary a gargle, whisper or squeak, and his brain enters a state of shock that lasts until she clears her throat.

“So … are you going to let me in?”

“Huh? O-Oh, uh, yeah, sure,” he manages to utter as he steps aside to let her in.

As soon as she manages to step past the threshold of the apartment an auburn blur rushes out of the kitchen in a speed that the younger Parker has barely witnessed before.

“Michelle!” May greets with a beaming smile, sweeping MJ up in a hug that stiffens her up. “How are you sweetie?!”

“I'm good,” Michelle replies softly with a smile Peter cannot see as she melts into the arms of Aunt May, hugging her back and resting her head on her shoulder. Peter knows that no one can resist the warmth of his aunt - not even the almighty Michelle Jones.

Peter gently closes the door shut and shoots a questioning look at May, who simply responds by maintaining her loving smile and raising her eyebrows back at him.

“Sorry I'm late,” MJ says as she breaks the hold.

“No, you're right on time,” May replies, dismissing her apology with a wave of her hand. “Dinner should be just about ready.”

“So we've already ordered Thai?” Michelle jokes, getting a laugh from May as she walks back into the kitchen.

“Wait, why do I get hit for saying that and she doesn't?” Peter questions.

“Simple: you're a loser, and I'm me,” MJ speaks up as she sits down at the table in the spare chair beside Ned before turning to her table neighbour. “Hey, loser number two.”

“Hey,” Ned absentmindedly greets as he continues looking over Betty's project. “Hang on, I'm number two?”

“Congratulations, you can hear clearly.”

“Why am I number two?” he asks in confusion.

“I wouldn't argue. You don't want to be number one,” she states, gesturing to Peter who shares Ned's muddled expression

“Uh, thanks?” Peter replies uncertainly.

“It's not a compliment.”

“Thanks,” he repeats far more bluntly than the first as his shoulders sag.

“Peter, can you give me a hand?” May asks from the kitchen.

“Sure thing.”

Peter heads into the kitchen and, seeing May gesture to the cupboards and drawers with the end of the wooden spoon, starts to pull out bowls and cutlery for everyone.

“Why didn't you say she was coming?” he whispers.

“I forgot,” she whispers back, her small smirk giving away her lie. Peter just stands there mid-reach for a bowl, glaring at her until she sighs and amends, “Okay, I didn't want to make you nervous.”

“Nervous doesn't cover it.”

“Don't tell me you've made it worse again?”

“No!” Peter hisses sharply before covering his mouth. At a quick glance over the counter and seeing that Ned and Michelle didn't hear his outburst, or at least aren't responding to it, he continues on. “At least, I don't think I have … I had only just started making some sense of her before Mysterio. Now I'm back to square one.”

“It'll be fine, sweetie. If she hated you, she wouldn't be here.”

“She would. She just wouldn't be talking to me.”

“There, you've still got something figured out.”

“ … Doesn't that applied to everyone?”

“Ok, you've still got a lot to learn,” May admits with a sigh.

“Too much,” he agrees with a nod.

“Hey, why don't you ask her to Stark's wedding?” she whispers, her eyes brightening while his widens at her question before narrowing to a squint.

“Mr. Stark put you up to this, didn't he? Is that why you invited Michelle?”

“What? No! I'd already invited MJ before he called me about you. Why? What did he say?”

“He thinks I should invite her,” he mumbles.

“You should,” May agrees, holding out a hand. “Bowl.”

“I can't,” Peter opposes as he hands her a bowl, which she starts scooping rice into out of the saucepan.

“Why not?”

“How would I explain everything?” Peter asks as May moves on to adding the fried vegetables in. “She doesn't know that I'm Spider-Man.”

“You haven't told her,” May points out as she hands him the meal and gestures for another bowl. “And that hasn't stopped anyone finding out yet.”

“Still-”

“I think it's a good idea,” May presses on, filling up the second bowl and handing it to Peter. “It'll help you both get closer again.”

As she glances back at Peter after he hands her the third bowl, she notices the calculating expression of his as he stares off at a randomly chosen point in the floorboards, lost deep in thought.

“I know that look, you're overthinking again.”

“Am not,” he replies, snapping his attention back to May.

“It's not like anything will happen there,” she promises filling up the third bowl and swapping it for the last one. “Who would be silly enough to attack a place crawling with Avengers.”

“Don't jinx it,” Peter groans, rubbing his face with his hands.

“It's only jinxed if it happens,” May points out with a raise of her spoon. “Which would mean you'd need to bring her.”

“So, that's another reason not to invite her.”

May pauses for a second before answering. “That worked against me, didn't it?"

“The point is, that you always overthink things when you're worrying for others,” May continues at her normal volume as she gathers her bowl and cutlery and takes it over to the dining table, leaving Peter to carry Michelle's and Ned's. “It's sweet, but you need to relax. She'll be fine. Ned, put your laptop away.”

“Yes, May,” Ned says as he starts to put it to sleep while Peter sets MJ's food in front of her, the girl perking up at May's words.

“Peter's worried about a girl?” she asks as Peter sets Ned's meal in front of him while he is sliding the laptop into his bag underneath the table.

“Yes,” May simply states as she pokes through the food with her fork and spoon, while Peter simultaneously pulls back with a sudden, “N-No!”

“Don't worry, it's just work related,” May explains, causing Peter to groan as he goes to grab his food from the kitchen.

“So, who's this mystery girl?” MJ questions with a face schooled for many long years to give nothing away, her elbows on the table resting either side of her bowl while her hands are clasped together above it.

“Why are you so interested?” Peter snaps as he sets his bowl and cutlery down.

“Peter!” May scolds.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“Fishing for new material,” Michelle answers. “Not that I really need it for you. There's just so much to tease you for. It's a bottomless pit.”

“Th-This looks really good, May,” Ned says, glancing nervously between his two friends. “Smells delicious too.”

“Thank you, Ned. Truthfully, I just fried up some of the leftover Thai in the fridge.”

“So it is takeaway!” Peter exclaims, getting another light smack on the arm from May.

“Hey, I did cook the rice at least,” she defends while Peter rubs the area she hit. “I'm sorry, MJ. I was trying to make something different, but it kinda went up in smoke.”

“It's fine, May. Just so long as there isn't any meat in mine.”

“I made sure there wasn't meat in any, just to be safe.”

“Thanks.”

“So, how are your exams going, MJ?” May asks as they start to dig into their dinner.

“They should be fine. Same with the assessments. Just one more tomorrow,” she answers with a swallow before looking at Ned. “I take it Betty asked you to read over her work?”

The rest of the meal passes by with few events, just some causal talk, May asking questions of how MJ's holding up, and a few choice barbs flung by the snarky warrior over to the young Avenger. When they are all finished, Peter insists on collecting up the bowls and cutlery and washing up, despite the protests of his Aunt, leaving him now washing up the dishes in the kitchen.

“I should be going,” Michelle states as she rises up from her chair, though stops as May reaches a hand over.

“You don't have to go. We've got chocolate ripple cake for dessert. And I think the boys are going to put a movie on.”

“No thanks, I should go get ready for tomorrow. Make sure I'm prepared and all.”

“Well, I'll give you a slice for the road.”

“You don't have to-”

“Oh, nonsense,” May waves her off before looking over her shoulder. “Peter!”

“On it!” Peter shouts, grabbing a tea towel and quickly drying his hands before diving into the fridge.

“It was good to see you again, sweetie,” she says, pulling her into another hug that MJ accepts much quicker than the first. Michelle breaks away with a smile before walking over to Ned, who has gotten his laptop out once more.

“Bye, Ned,” she says, holding out a hand for a fist bump.

“See ya, MJ,” Ned says as he returns it. “Keep in touch over break?”

“Yeah, sure. Sorry, I've just been busy with school.”

“Yeah, we all have.”

MJ moves back around the table just as Peter bumbles out of the kitchen, sliding across the floor in his socks and bumping into a set of drawers. She manages to choke her laugh into her hoodie while he's busy fixing it and schools herself back to the blank canvas by the time he turns back around. With a slight tinge of faint crimson across his cheeks, he holds out her sizeable share of ripple cake tightly wrapped in glad-wrap. Silently, she takes it from his hands and pockets it in her hoodie along with her hands.

“Bye, dork,” she says before she walks to the door.

Peter waves awkwardly to her back and manages to stutter out, “Y-Yeah, see ya,” as she opens it, before glancing at May.

“Ask her!” his aunt mouths.

His mouth opens up again to fire back some sort of excuse, but for the second time that night the working words have gone on strike. Union has managed unity amongst every sound and syllable, turning them all in opposition of him again. No matter what his brain suggests as a compromise, there's no pleasing them. Not even the promise of using simple basic English properly. And yet, what whips everything back into shape is the sudden slam of the door behind Michelle making him jump and shifting everything into high gear. Diving for his backpack, he scurries inside for the envelope Mr. Stark gave him which had, by some means, managed to fall underneath his work and textbooks.

'This is a bad idea! This is a bad idea!' his brain runs on a loop as he finally pulls it free. Rushing to the door and wrenching it open, Peter darts through and spots her just before she makes it to the elevator.

“Michelle! Wait!”

MJ sighs and stops just short of the elevator doors, turning around as he dashes up to her

'This is a bad idea! This is a bad idea! This is a bad idea! This is -'

“What is it, Parker?”

“U-Um ...” Peter stammers out before clearing his throat, hoping that his words will stay working just long enough to finish this. “W-Well, today – earlier – obviously earlier, I-I got something Stark – from Mr. Stark. Not just any something; a big something. Like, monumental-”

“Get to the point, Parker,” Michelle interrupted, pulling her hands out of her pockets and crossing her arms across her chest. “You're not making any sense.”

“U-Uh, r-right … So, um, you know about Mr. Stark's wedding? To Ms. Potts?”

“No, I haven't heard about the wedding every media platform's been spending too long covering instead of actual important social issues.”

“O-Oh, right …”

'This is a bad idea! This is a bad idea!'

“What about it?”

“U-Um …” her starts again, before deflating with a sigh. “Don't worry. It's nothing. S-Sorry.”

Peter turns around and goes to walk back, until he feels her hand on his shoulder.

“Clearly not if you came running after me. What is it?”

“W-Well … I got invited,” he states, rubbing his free hand against the back of his neck.

“Huh …” she manages to utter, the blank canvas adding some life as her brows rise slightly higher over her widened eyes, “You must do some really important work for him to be invited to something so important.”

“I-I guess?”

“Is that a question or an answer?”

“… both?”

A heavy silence falls between the two of them before Michelle speaks up again.

“… So, is there anything else? Or were you just looking for compliments?”

“No! I-I … It's just … I've been allocated a guest for the trip and I … uh …” he stammers out before taking a deep breath, “… Iwaswonderingifyouwantedtocomewithme?”

“… Can you repeat that? Not all of us have super hearing, you know.”

“W-What?” he squeaks, his face draining of colour.

“Not all of us have super hearing,” she repeats. “Like your pal Spider-Man?”

“O-Oh, right. Um …” Peter clears his voice as the colour returns too quickly to his face, rushing past his normal tone and turning into a beat red blush. “I-I was just wondering i-if you wanted to come with me? T-To the wedding.”

Michelle's eyes widen again and her lips part slightly. She makes a move as if to speak, but it seems as if whatever she was going to say got caught along the way.

“Um … Look, Peter,” she starts, her head dropping slightly and tilting to the side, “I dunno-”

“You don't have to!” he exclaims, jolting her back to looking at him. Quietening himself back down, he continues with, “I-I was just asking … I knew May and Ned couldn't come-”

“Oh, so I'm third choice?”

“No! I-I mean, I see why it looks that way, but May is family and Ned's always been interested in this stuff, so i-it just seemed more likely that they would come. N-Not that I asked, because I already knew they couldn't come.”

Peter had kept his head trailed on the floor as he tentatively stammered through his explanation, meaning that he had completely missed the small smile that had managed to creak through Michelle's filter and painted itself across her canvas while he bumbled through his excuse. A small smile that had already been painted back over, along with the rest of her expression, ready to start again once more.

“Why not ask that girl that you're so worried about?”

'That's what I'm doing!' his insides exclaim, building up and waiting to be released. Instead, what came out was, “We aren't that close, me and her.”

MJ slowly nods before she admits, “Look, I don't know-”

“You don't have to!” he repeats again. “I mean, I don't want you to feel pressured into it. Just that, you know, if you didn't have any plans for spring break, and you wanted a holiday-”

“Oh no, my usual routine of wrapping myself in blankets and reading every book in sight with no end of tea is ruined now,” she complains dryly.

“O-Oh, right. Well, enjoy your plans, I guess-”

“I was joking, loser,” she smirks with a shake of her head. “I've got nothing on.” The smirk falls from her head as she continues, “It's just, last time we planned something for us, it didn't go well.

Peter slowly nods, remembering the disaster with Mysterio and his goons that Michelle could never understand. He takes in a deep breath before asking, “… So that's a no?”

Michelle sighs and leans up against the wall, staring off at a point on the ground.

“… I don't think I'd get along well with Stark when I'm there, regardless of if he's paying for the trip or not,” she answers.

“Ms. Potts will also be there,” Peter countered, remembering Michelle's admiration for her. “Also the Avengers.”

“Seriously?!” she exclaims, raising her head in time to catch Peter nodding. “How'd you get on that invite list?”

“I dunno.”

'Tell her! Tell her!'

“I've, uh, done some things for them. Tech upgrades and modifications.”

'And, also, I'm Spider-Man!' his mind continues on to mock him. 'Sorry for not telling you sooner. Friends again?'

“Th-That's it,” he finishes with a swallow, waiting in silence as MJ's squinted eyes stare at him. Every time she's looked at him that way, he always felt like she was doing more than observing; she was looking straight into his soul to find some answer. If there was any way that she knew he was Spider-Man, it was through that look.

“I don't know, Peter-”

“I could also owe you a favour?” Peter interjects again. “Something- Anything that you want.”

“Anything?” she questions with a raised eyebrow.

“Y-You know, within reason,” he clarifies. “I'll even get you a dress for it.”

“You don't think I've got a suitable dress?”

“N-No! Th-That's not-”

“What if I want to wear a suit instead?” she inquires, the ghost of a smile returning to her lips as she watches him crumble.

“Then I'll get you a suit. Whatever you want.”

MJ just manages to clamp down on the laugh just after it starts, with a small smile that still manages to pluck a melody along his heartstrings.

“I'm just messing with you, Pete,” she states, still keeping the smile on her face. A smile that he can't remember being directed at him since their trip to Europe. “You make it way too easy.”

“R-Right,” he says, slowly laughing.

“Where is it?”

“Plane ticket says Auckland, New Zealand,” he replies, pulling out one of the invitations and handing it to her.

“And you're leaving …?” she asks, reading over the page.

“Saturday. Morning. Day after tomorrow.”

“Thanks for the large warning,” she mutters quietly.

“Sorry, I only found out today,” he responds, causing her to look up and eye him again with her soul piercing gaze. Suddenly, Peter wasn't too sure if he should have said anything, considering her quip before about super hearing. Or if it was just because she didn't mean to say it aloud.

“Thanks for the warning, Stark,” she mutters again before handing the invite back. “I'll think about it, okay?”

“Y-Yeah, that's fine,” he replies, taking the invitation and sliding it back into the envelope. “Just, you know, let me know tomorrow. Or May, and she can tell me.”

“I'll be sure to message late.”

“Uh, maybe at a more reasonable time? You know, for the clothes and all? In case you do decide to come?”

“What, you haven't been sizing me up now?” she asks, giving Peter a sly look that sends the crimson fire burning across his face once more, spreading quickly down his neck.

“N-No! No!”

“You sure?” she says, pushing away from the wall and moving towards him. “A lot of guys would be admiring a body like mine like a piece of art.”

“G-Good for them?” he gulps as he backs up.

MJ backs him against a wall and leans in, his eyes fluttering down to her lips just inches away from his own.

'Just lean in. Kiss her,' a tiny voice whispered in the back of his head. 'You know you want to see if she still tastes the same.'

There was a time, though brief, where he knew exactly what she tasted like. It was heaven, or as close to it as he was ever going to get. So vibrant and shocking, sweeter than the sweetest honey, an unforgettable taste that would linger on his lips long after the smallest peck. And they were few, now just a memory of sweet torture. The whole concoctions of senses and visions builds at the tension eating away at his will while he shrinks down in a crimson mess. That is, until the smile that spreads its way across her morphs into full blown laughter, pure and joyful, the beautiful sound he hasn't truly heard in years that ever since has both blessed and haunted his dreams at the same time.

“You really make it too easy, dork,” she laughs and backs away, allowing him to release the breath of hot air trapped in his throat that he hadn't realised he was holding back.

“W-When's your exam?” he manages to spit out, pushing himself uneasily off the wall.

“It goes from 8 to 11,” she answers, getting just a nod in response as she walks over to the elevator doors and presses the down button. “Apparently we get too much sleep as it is.”

“Well, mine starts at 1, s-so just m-message any time before then, I guess. Maybe 12:30 at the latest?”

“Fine.”

The elevator doors whine as they slowly slide open, sticky metal rubbing against one another. Michelle gives them a tentative glance before stepping in and hitting the ground button.

“W-Well, see you,” Peter says, giving her another awkward wave that she finally sees.

MJ just stares at him through squinted eyes as the doors start to close, before smirking as she raises her middle finger just at the last moment. Peter lets out a loud sigh and puts his head in his hands before he makes his way back to May's apartment. When he gets inside, he closes the door before falling back against it and sliding down to the ground. Ned glances up from his laptop before taking a double-take at his crumpled friend, May quickly joining him.

“What did she do to you?” Ned asks, slowly hovering away from his chair.

“I have absolutely no idea,” Peter admits, taking several deep breaths as he spreads out his enhanced hearing, listening for any trouble on her end.

All he can hear is her softly humming to herself as she rides down, while Mrs. Thompson's TV has been switched off and the shouting from downstairs seems to have gotten louder. Looks like they'll need a visit from Queen's red-and-blue domestic expert, though they'll have to settle for Spider-Man instead. At least the suit is in the backpack.

“You asked her?” May inquires. “Properly?” Peter just nods. “… And?”

“I'll find out tomorrow.”

Michelle stretches her arms up above her head as she leaves the exam hall with the swarm of students. She had finished early, as she expected, but not as early as she thought as stupid Parker's stupid proposal kept worming its way into her head as she was trying to think. Still, she finished early, but of course she wasn't allowed to leave until time was up anyway. Not without failing, as the examiners said, which wasn't something she wished to push today. At least she had a chance to think about it, more than she had already antagonised over the decision much more than she felt she should have last night when she was meant to study. Beside her, her friend and roommate, Cindy Moon, sighs happily, her utensils cluttered in her arms.

“Finally it's over!” Cindy Moon sighs happily beside her, her overly large collection of writing utensils and highlighters cradled in her arms, “I'm so happy I could just collapse here and now!”

“I'll call the ambulance,” Michelle drawls, pulling out her phone from her jean pocket to check for messages. Nothing. “Tell them to expect the usual.”

Cindy giggles and bumps into her, “It's not that normal.”

“It's way too common for it to be considered normal,” Michelle retorts, sliding her phone back into its designated pocket as another friend and their other roommate, Betty Brant, jogs up on her other side.

“Time to celebrate, girls!” the blonde cheers. “Clubs and drinks tonight!”

“Don't you need to pack for Ned's holiday?” Cindy questions.

“No, I'm already packed. Besides, we're leaving Sunday. There's plenty of time.”

“Yeah, in which you'll throw out half your clothes an hour before you need to leave because it just doesn't feel right, and then antagonise over what else to bring,” MJ points out.

“That never happens,” Betty dismisses. “You worry too much.”

MJ and Cindy share a glance, remembering last year's trip where she was crying with her clothes strewn on the floor around her empty suitcase with 10 minutes before they left. Then again, MJ knew that Cindy stressed about packing for an entire week beforehand and keep meticulously checking even the smallest detail to make sure it was right, so she had no room to talk either.

“Drinks do sound good, though,” Cindy admits with a thoughtful nod. “Michelle?”

“Maybe,” she shrugs.

“So you're not going with Peter?” inquires Betty, drawing a sigh from Michelle.

“I haven't decided.”

“Wait, what's this?” Cindy asks in confusion, glancing between the two.

“Peter asked MJ to go to Stark's wedding with him.”

“Seriously?!” Cindy squeals, her hands jerking up to cover her mouth only to stop as she realises she's still holding her equipment.

“Not so loud …” Michelle mumbles with a wince.

“How have you not decided yet?!”

“Because I'm not that big on Stark,” Michelle starts to list off on her fingers, “Because I'm not that big on a bunch of big muscly superheroes who'll argue over who's the most macho. Because I don't want to be around a bunch of corporate yes men who are way too old and creepy to contribute to society. And because it's Peter.”

“Is the last point for the positive or negative?” Cindy stage whispers to Betty, leaning in behind MJ's back.

“Probably positive,” Betty muses. “Outweighs those three negatives.”

“Seriously?” MJ says, folding her arms over her chest with an unimpressed eyebrow raised.

“Hey, regardless of what you say, I know you still haven't gotten over Peter,” Betty says as she keeps walking, the other two quickly catching up and keeping pace. “And the way you treat him doesn't exactly help your case.”

“How I treat him?”

“Well, it's not exactly normal for girls who claim someone's broken their heart to playfully tease them,” Cindy joins in, a hand somehow free from the clutter in her arms tapping her chin thoughtfully.

“I don't tease playfully. Wait, what do you mean, 'you know'?”

“Drunk Michelle tells me things that Sober Michelle is too afraid to say,” Betty answers candidly with a sing-song pitch.

'I'm going to have to sit down and talk with Drunk Michelle,' Michelle internally broods. 'If she keeps lying like this, I'll end up in a mess I'm not going to get out of.'

“And it's because of this that you keep turning down dates and don't do anything outside of one night stands,” Betty continues. “You should give one of those boys a chance.”

'Forget the talk. Drunk Michelle's meeting the firing squad tonight. With full prejudice.'

“Cindy-rella!” calls out a male voice from across the courtyard.

“Zekie!” Cindy perks up and runs over to the source of the pet name, running into the arms of a tall black man with short stubby dreadlocks, her utensils scattering on the cobble floor beneath them. Michelle notes him as her boyfriend, Ezekiel, as their bright grins morph together when their lips crash into each other's.

“How'd it go?”

“I dunno,” Cindy replies. “I'm worried I messed it all up.”

“Nah, you're amazing! There's no way you didn't get top marks.”

“No way, top marks will go to this girl,” a smooth male voice says coming from behind Betty and Michelle.

“Speaking of boys …” Betty says, turning around.

'Speaking of creepy …' MJ sours internally, also pivoting to the source of the sound with a scowl.

Striding over towards the group, dirty blonde hair slicked back, tight button-up shirt that hugs his muscular physique with the top buttons left undone, and tight jeans clinging to his legs, is the heir to Oscorp Industries, Harry Osborn; charmer, playboy, womaniser, millionaire in his own right, flashing a smile that would make any girl swoon.

Any girl not named Michelle Jones.

“What do you say, MJ? Top of the class yet again?”

“It's Michelle, Osborn.”

“Whoa, slow down,” Harry chuckles, “I haven't even gotten the ring yet.”

“Fuck off,” she growls, turning her back to him.

“Still as feisty as ever, huh? Calm down, MJ. I was just joking,” he says, placing a hand on her shoulder, which is quickly smacked away as she spins back round.

“I told you. It's Michelle,” she snaps, glaring at him and jabs a finger in the air in front of him. “Okay?”

“Whatever you say, princess.”

Michelle huffs and folds her arms over her chest, not failing to notice how his bright blue eyes travel down her body, taking in every little piece that they can see. A cold chill darts across her skin like a sickness as his gaze continues to linger while it travels back up her body, no doubt undressing her in a way that would be as uncomfortable as possible if she ever had the displeasure to live it out.

“Some friends of mine were talking about heading around to my mansion and getting a head start on the drinking before the clubs all open up,” he finally speaks after what feels like an eerie eternity for Michelle, his eyes peering into her own. “Interested?”

“Betty and I were thinking of going out later anyway,” Cindy jumps in, holding hands with her boyfriend as they walk over, their free hands holding her once again collected equipment.

“Excellent,” Harry says, barely letting his eyes leave Michelle. “You're welcome to join us.”

“We've still got some things to take care of too, though,” Betty points out.

“Alright, then we can swing round and pick you up on the way to the clubs.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“What about you, princess? We can grab a drink, get to know each other more personally,” Harry says, turning back to Michelle. “I can even invite you to join the getaway to California. Just think; hot sun, busy beaches, lots of parties. You can put all those fake girls to shame with that beautiful body of yours.”

“Nope. Not a chance, Osborn,” MJ replies, sidestepping the arm he went to throw around her shoulders and sliding her phone out of her pocket. She quickly unlocks it and opens up her messages to Peter. “Gotta pack. I've got plans. Far away from you.”

I'm in Dress and favour included

'Thanks for making that choice so much easier. Only thing you've ever been good for, Osborn,' she thinks as she gets a quick buzz back.

rly?!?!?!?!?!

Yep Shocker Details?

“Really?” Osborn questions in surprise, his brow rising up. “What kind of plans?”

I'll send them 2 U l8r After exam

“One's that don't involve you.”

Pick text speech or normal and stick with it

… Please tell me you picked normal

“That sounds lonely,” Harry croons in his sultry tone.

“It sounds peaceful,” MJ jabs back.

I picked normal

I don't believe you

Y not?

You took to long to write that Also, your last message

“So, where are you going?” Harry continues to inquire, leaning in to try and peer at her phone. Without looking up, Michelle tilts it away from his eyes, keeping it close to her body.

“Somewhere not Osborn related.”

Fair For your dress, go to 154 on 32nd I'll let them know u r coming

MJ's brow furrows as she reads the address. From what she remembers, that's meant to be a top end shop filled with custom makes and designer makes that only people with some decent cash can afford.

“That'll be hard to do,” Harry presses on. “Osborn is a household name, after all.”

“Right. Up on the same level as Stark himself,” MJ sarcastically retorts with a roll of her eyes.

Isn't that that really expensive new place?

Yep

“It is,” he stresses. “And soon will rise above. There's lots of money in Oscorp. Which means plenty of riches and fame for me. And anyone that's personally involved.”

“Aw, you say that to all the girls,” Michelle says, putting on a fake sweet voice that sounds deliberately off.

Stark's paying for this, isn't he?

He asked me to go there for sizing yesterday

So you're not getting me a dress?

“Just the special one.”

“Just one? You're getting old, Osborn.”

Hey It counts in my book

Fine But only because you didn't have to offer

“I think you'll find I'm young enough in all the right places,” he leans in to whisper with a smirk, “if you'd care to take a look sometime.”

“No, I'm not up for playing Doctor.”

“Right now?”

“Ever!” she growls, taking a step back.

“Hey, Cindy? Maybe we should get going?” Betty interjects nervously, stepping in between Harry's cool and calm persona and Michelle's fiery spirit fit to burst. “Let Michelle finish her packing.”

“Yeah, okay,” she nods, untangling her fingers from Ezekiel's and quickly pecking his lips. “I'll see you later.”

“See you soon,” he replies, handing her back the utensils he was carrying.

“And I'll see you later, princess,” Harry grins at Michelle. “Still time to change your mind.”

“Don't count on it,” she huffs as she storms away.

“MJ, wait up!” Betty calls after her as she and Cindy take off after their friend.

Forget sending me the details Mind if I stay tonight?

I'm staying at May's tonight She should be fine with it I'll check Why the sudden change?

Just thought it'll save travelling between two houses

Oh Right

Don't get excited, Parker

“Sorry, I should have defused that a lot sooner,” Betty apologises as they finally catch up to Michelle's long legged stride.

“That would have helped,” Michelle grates as she receives another couple of buzzes, this time from May.

Honey, you're more than welcome to stay. Whenever you need to.

Michelle has to smother the smile bubbling up with the special kind of grateful feeling that only May Parker's warmth can give before turning to her friends and roommates.

“I'm not staying tonight.”

“Where are you going?” Cindy asks.

“I'll stay at May's. Peter's there and it'll save travelling all over in the early morning,” MJ explains. “Plus I'm not wanting to see that slime ball again.”

“We'll make sure they don't come to get us before you're gone,” Betty assures her.

“Thanks.”

A/N: Please feel free to let me know what you think. Hopefully the next chapter shouldn’t be too far away. At least not as far as this one was. Until next time, adios!

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thejakeformerlyknownasprince · 6 years

Note

AU: have you ever considered an avengers-animorphs fusion?

[Contains spoilers only through Avengers (2012) and only oblique references to MCU events beyond that movie.]

Jake finds Cassie steadying, at a time when he could use a little steadiness. She’s a soothing presence who offers shy smiles and subtly brilliant insights into the yeerks as she watches them all closely. By contrast, most of the others are… overwhelming. Rachel looks very much like her grandmother, managing to be even more brash and bold and trigger-happy as she paces the bridge pointing to read-outs of energy signatures and demanding that they go rescue a fellow agent named Tobias, immediately. Ax cheerfully eats an entire box of pop-tarts in one sitting as he tells the SHIELD agents that andalites don’t normally behave this much like warring kaftids but that Alloran is clearly not himself right now.

Marco walks onto the bridge, looks around like he owns the place, and immediately starts ranting about how they’re all a load of idiots and SHIELD is lying to them. Jake isn’t sure he even draws breath in between words. Mid-cyberbabble, Marco suddenly spins around and falls silent. For about half a second.

“Oh my god, you’re Rachel Berenson.” Marco practically throws himself across the table to shake her hand. “I’m a huge fan, really. I read all your magazine articles, I follow one hundred percent of your fashion advice, and I also love the way you turn into a human-bear-thing and rip your enemies’ heads off with your teeth.” He’s still pumping her hand with what looks like genuine enthusiasm. “Plus, unlike your fifth-cousin or great-uncle or whatnot Captain War-Prince Yeerk-Killer over there, you actually have a sense of humor—”

“My name is Jake,” Jake blurts. They all turn to look at him. “Just Jake is fine,” he mumbles. “I’m not a real war-prince. Not really. It was all just propaganda at first, and then they only promoted me so that they wouldn’t have to court-martial me after I went on that stupid suicide mission to get my brother back.” They’re all still staring. “And anyway, the ‘Yeerk-Killer’ part is…” Saying I don’t like it sounds like too childish a reason even in his own mind. “It’s just something they called me.”

There’s ringing silence for several seconds. And then Marco says, “Anyway, about this yeerk-helping dude who gave over all our intel.”

“Tobias is not working for the yeerks.” There’s an edge of growl to Rachel’s voice, one that causes everyone else in the room to tense just slightly. “He’s being controlled. Involuntarily.”

Jake takes a moment, just one, to mourn the 1940s with an intensity that steals his breath away. He misses everything he’s lost. Like missing a limb. Like missing home. Like missing a brother. Rachel is his only link to the past, and she’s a stranger; last Jake saw, his nephew Daniel was just a baby, and now Daniel’s own daughter is a grown woman while Daniel himself is dead twenty years back in a mysterious car accident. Everything disappeared in the span of an instant. Everyone died. Only Jake is left.

And then Jake draws a deep breath and says, “Regardless of how they got it, the yeerks have key intel on our operation now. And we need to get our shit together to figure out what to do about it.” There’s no time for him to feel sorry for himself.

Rachel knows they don’t make a particularly inspiring picture, between Jake awkwardly standing around in full dress blues, Marco slumped against a computer console in a Demon Days t-shirt, Cassie in her green floral-print leggings and purple-and-grey leotard, and Ax striding back and forth across the helicarrier with whatever that cloak-thing is billowing behind him. She’s not sure she trusts Ax, not when he’s freely admitted that he’s doing some kind of alien-magic-glamour-thing to appear human. (Although, as he explained apologetically, he’s not nearly as good at it as his brother would be; from the way he tells it, Elfangor hung the moon, arranged the stars, and single-handedly invented the internet.) She has no idea what to make of Jake, whose life story defined her entire childhood and who is proving to be just as much of a clueless idiot as the rest of them. She actually likes Marco, not so much in spite of their verbal sparring but because of it, since she can tell that he enjoys getting a sharp comeback out of her almost as much as he enjoys scoring a hit himself.

“What’s a part-time CW melodrama actor even doing on this team?” Rachel asks him. “I mean, take away those three Grammys you almost won, and—”

“I’m only the third-smartest person on the planet, head of R&D for the single biggest telecommunications contractor in the U.S., runner-up for a Nobel Prize thanks to my groundbreaking work in increasing accessibility for information technology, and…” Marco pauses for dramatic effect. “Fifteenth sexiest man alive for 2009, according to People magazine.” He gives a tiny bow. “Oh, and I build AI robots that help me save the planet from aliens, which is more than the fourteen men allegedly sexier than me can claim,” he adds as an afterthought.

“His ego’s only so big to compensate for his lack of height,” Rachel whispers loudly to Cassie.

“Whereas the biohacker who dosed herself with untested DNA-rewiring implants in order to avoid CDC oversight,” Marco drawls, “could never ever be accused of hubris.”

“Can we please get back to talking about how aliens are invading the planet?” Jake asks the room at large.

“I spoke to that other andalite,” Cassie says.

“Alloran,” Ax supplies. “Looorrran.”

“No, actually.” Cassie considers, choosing her words. “There’s a yeerk controlling Alloran. Calls itself Visser Three. That yeerk is itself working for this other power, one called Crayak. I don’t fully understand the nature of this Crayak person, but I did find out that he wants to use Rachel to…” She pauses delicately.

“To let out my inner berserker, who will kill the rest of you?” Rachel suggests.

“You won’t let that happen,” Jake says stubbornly.

Rachel lets out a harsh laugh. “This?” She gestures to herself. “This is Nice Rachel, and let’s be honest that I’m not that nice. The other one? Mean Rachel? She might like all of you just fine, and she’ll still rip you all to shreds the first time you startle or annoy her. Cassie can talk the other Rachel down sometimes, under the right circumstances, but the rest of you can kiss your butts goodbye if stuck in an enclosed little helicarrier with me when I get pissed off.”

“Anyway, we’ll keep Rachel nice and calm.” Cassie offers a small smile. “And leaving aside the fact that Crayak might be using this whole yeerk invasion as an opening play in some even bigger chess game, there’s still Visser Three’s stake in this all to consider. Near as I can tell, his motivation is some mix of the usual—pride, greed, wrath—but this whole thing with wiping out the humans seems to have something to do with how much one of his fellow yeerks, Visser One if I’ve got the name right, happens to like this species.”

“You got all that from one conversation?” Jake sounds impressed.

“Please assure me you did not do anything… untoward to that host body,” Ax says.

“Nah.” Marco’s tone is full of false brightness. “Haven’t you heard? Agent Werewolf here was a voluntary controller herself back in the wild days of her misspent youth. I bet she and the ol’ visser cracked open a cold one and shot the shit about their glory days together, no thumb screws necessary.”

Rachel snarls, fiercely gratified to see Marco go dead white. “That’s cute, coming from a war profiteering gunrunner. You, what? Followed daddy right into the rocket-making business, didn’t care if the rockets hit the wrong planet just as long as they performed perfectly?” She shoves him in the chest; he stumbles back several feet. “I know what you are. I know it took one of your own bombs going off in your face for you even to think about giving a damn about what happened to them after you were done engineering them. I know you have no right, no right to talk to Cassie like—”

“Rachel.” Jake’s voice is quiet, but very firm. “Rachel, put the scepter down.”

She swings around to point it at him, and wow. She’s not sure when she even picked the thing up. It’s heavy and hot in her hand, pulsing with her own raging heartbeat.

“I’ve acknowledged my past, and I’m learning to deal with it.” Cassie faces Marco, but she’s speaking to Rachel as well, struggling to calm everyone down. “Not knowing what I was doing at the time is no excuse for what I’ve done. I let a yeerk into my brain, yes, even thought that I was saving a different host when I did so. I’m the one who trusted them out of naïveté, and…” Cassie draws herself up, looking around the room. “I’m the reason so many of the U.S.’s enemies have the power to morph right now. I’m no better than Seerow, in my own way. If anyone here has a problem with that…”

“Then it can wait,” Jake finishes. He’s looking at Ax, who stares at Cassie with something between anger and horror.

“Yes, Prince Jake,” Ax says.

Jake takes a breath. “I’m not really a—”

“That title is not given out lightly. Tlee.” Ax smiles a little. “Nor should it be set aside once given.”

Rachel finds she has lowered the scepter, set it back on the table. That she’s breathing more normally, berserker kept at bay for the moment. Cassie looks at her with a silent question, and Rachel nods. She’s coming back to baseline, will be calm in a minute or two just as long as nothing else happens.

Which is, of course, when the goddamn helicarrier starts falling out of the sky.

Tobias rolls over, gasping for air, fighting down the desire to puke. He’s back in control of his own body for now, which is good, even if he is pretty sure that things did not exactly go according to plan back there. It probably wasn’t in the team’s response plan for him to get carried and then thrown across the room by Rachel—or rather, Rachel’s furry little problem—while Cassie rushed around dodging her and trying to make soothing noises. The plan probably didn’t call for Odret 177 to take one look at the seven-foot-tall clawed-and-fanged version of Rachel and abandon Tobias’s body as a lost cause, even if that had worked out well. The part where Marco had sprouted some kind of exoskeleton and gone to work on the helicarrier’s fried turbine, and where the andalite guy had dropped the human act in favor of using a massive dose of electricity to restart the engines… Well, that had gone okay as well.

With difficulty, Tobias shoves himself into a sitting position. His entire body is shaking uncontrollably. “Well,” he says hoarsely, “that was even worse than I expected it would be.”

“I know,” Cassie says, and she does. She sits next to him, gently lowering his head to rest on her shoulder. She knows what it is to have her mind overthrown, which is why she’s the one who’s here.

Then again. Tobias’s eggs are still scrambled, but he’s starting to realize maybe Cassie is the only one available. SHIELD is elbows-deep in the mess he just made. Last he saw, Marco and Ax were still performing emergency repairs. There’s every possibility Rachel hasn’t stopped rampaging. After all, Jake had been the only one attempting to deal with her, and… Well. Tobias is sure he’s doing his best, and equally sure he’s getting his ass kicked. Rachel will sometimes change back for Cassie, and she’d probably re-emerge if Ax managed to zap her unconscious. Tobias, on the other hand… Rachel’s other self doesn’t hurt Tobias, but she doesn’t relax around him either. Mostly she stuffs Tobias into a corner and then relentlessly scans for anything that could possibly hurt him, annihilating all threats with extreme prejudice. And someone just hurt Tobias.

“How do we fight this?” Tobias asks Cassie. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m just some guy.”

“I think that’s true of all of us.” Jake stands in the doorway. He’s battered and rumpled-looking, but he’s still upright. “Rachel’s gone. Ripped a hole in the side of the ship and then…” He winces.

“She’ll be fine.” Cassie puts a hand on his arm. “You all right?”

“Five by five.” Jake looks from her to Tobias. “You know how to fly?”

At that, in spite of the day he’s had, Tobias actually laughs. “Yeah, man, I can pilot us.”

They commandeer a quinjet, mostly through the power of Jake “War-Prince” “Yeerk-Killer” “Captain America” Berenson’s legendary cussedness. Although, as Tobias is figuring out, Jake’s not a particular fan of any of the nicknames the media has given him. Understandable, really, since the guy clearly doesn’t revel in the spotlight like Marco or understand how to use it like Rachel and Cassie.

“Peregrine,” Tobias says on the tail of a sudden thought.

“What?” Jake says sharply.

“Peregrine.” Tobias doesn’t look away from the quinjet’s viewscreen. “That’s what your team called you, right? Back during the war.” He glances over long enough to smile. “Don’t worry, I promise not to hold it against you.”

That name, unlike the Yeerk-Killer nonsense, seems to unlock something in Jake. He chuckles, shaking his head. “You jump out of one measly little airplane without a parachute one time, and you never live it down.” He sits down next to Tobias, suddenly looking about 20 years younger. “No one actually knows for sure that I achieved terminal velocity on the way down,” he confesses, “and no matter what the wiki pages of your web net might claim, the part where I destroyed a Panzer IV on the landing was purely accidental. Anyway, why would you hold it against me?”

Tobias smiles. “‘Cause peregrines kill red-tails. My carnie nickname was Hawkeye, and they let me keep it as a call sign.”

“‘Carnie?’” Jake frowns, confused.

“I ran away and joined the circus when I was thirteen.” Tobias glances over long enough to raise his eyebrows and make it clear that no, he’s not joking. “Got sick of being passed around from relative to relative, and by then I’d figured out I had skills that the performers could use.”

“What can you do, anyway?” Jake asks.

“Like I said, I’m a pilot.”

Cassie takes that opportunity to lean against his chair on the far side. “He’s being modest. If you think that Marco can do crazy things with flight tech, you haven’t seen anything. Add to that Tobias’s affinity for birds—yes, even peregrine falcons, no matter how much he grumbles—and ‘pilot’ is an understatement.”

Jake’s mouth opens halfway. “You talk… to birds?”

“I communicate with them. Sort of.” Tobias gives another smile, this one distinctly self-deprecating. “My mom always claimed I was half-alien, if that explains it. But, well, between the traumatic brain injury and…” He sighs. “Mostly just the fact that no one ever believed Mom because of the traumatic brain injury, I didn’t exactly give the idea much credence until I figured out about the birds. Anyway, even if my dad is some kind of alien prince or whatever, he’s never bothered to send so much as a text message my way.” He shakes his head, shaking off the impulse toward self-pity. “Where the hell are we going, again?”

“You know that monument to his own ego that Marco was kind enough to build and then drop in the middle of Manhattan?” Cassie raises her eyebrows. “We’re pretty sure Visser Three is holed up there.”

Marco thinks he plays it off pretty well, all things considered. After all, his team doesn’t have to know that he screams like a baby for over half his fall from the sky, and ultimately Dian gets the Mark VI armor to him in time to stop him from going splat on the ground. He lands next to where the rest of the team (including Rachel’s smaller and nicer self) have congregated on a rooftop. And by the time he slides the helmet off he’s barely breathing hard at all.

“So,” Rachel says, “I’m guessing the yeerks did, in fact, appropriate your giant phallus?”

“The EGS Tower is the single greatest zero-emissions energy source in the entire western hemisphere,” Marco says, only somewhat sulky. “And anyway, not all of us can have our faces carved into Mount Rushmore.”

Jake cringes so sharply, body folding into itself as his entire face goes red, that Marco feels bad for having said it.

“Anyway.” Marco shifts, still adjusting to the new armor, which forms a hard-shelled simian arachnid around his squishy human body. “Our theory was right. Visser Three tried to stick a yeerk in me, and this baby—” He taps his cochlear implant. “Fried it to death. I told Visser Three the Animorphs were going to kick his ass, or at least that the rest of us would stand by and cheer as Rachel kicked his ass, he objected, and…” Marco makes a gesture to approximate the part where he was thrown out a window.

“Animorphs?” Ax asks. “Ah. Niiii-morfs.”

“Sure,” Marco says. “Between Bird Boy’s mind-melding, Rachel’s Dr. Jekyll act, the fact that you’re only human when you want to be, my own beautiful cyborg parts, the part where Cassie straight-up becomes a yeerk when she feels like it, and the way that questionable science transformed Jake into a walking action figure with Product of Mattel stamped on his perfectly-shaped plastic butt, I figured our little band of shapeshifters needed a proper name.”

“So, about this alien invasion…” Jake looks around to be sure he has their attention, nods once. “Tobias, gonna need you directing us from above, figuring out where the rest of us can be the most use. Cassie, you’re the closest thing we have to an expert in yeerk tech, so get to work on the transmitter for that portal. Ax, get her up there and then focus on shutting down those Bug fighter things as fast as you can generate the lightning to do it. I’ll be on the ground trying to keep the human civilians separate from those hork-bajir-controllers. Marco will keep to the air to try and draw the Blade ship’s attention. Rachel…” He gives a slight bow. “You know what to do.”

She grins, showing all her teeth, which are rapidly multiplying. She says something in response but it gets lost under the sound of her spine rippling and deforming to support limbs that have grown muscular and sprouted six-inch claws. With a manic laugh she jumps, springing forty feet straight into the air to collide with a Bug fighter; the Bug fighter comes off worse.

Marco shifts his exoskeleton into place, brian implants controlling the four extra limbs attached to the armor. “Dr. Fossey?” he says into the helmet, and hears his AI come online. “All right,” he tells the group as a whole. “Gonna go get some attention, bring the party to you.”

He takes off, but not before he hears Cassie sigh loudly and say, “I hate parties.”

Cassie waits until well after the battle is over, when they’re straggling in an uneven line down the street toward the shawarma that Marco promised to find them, before she dares reach out and very gently take Jake’s hand. He looks over in surprise when she does, but also folds his scabbed and very dirty fingers around hers with a faint smile.

“If you don’t mind me asking…” She glances up at him. “Was that your first kiss since 1945?” She phrases it that way since asking was that your first kiss outright would definitely be rude.

Jake clears his throat. “Was… was that a kiss?”

She can see why he’d be uncertain. He’d just fallen out of the sky, had come entirely too close for anyone’s comfort to getting smashed to pieces on the rubble before Rachel saved him, when Cassie had lunged at him with an uncharacteristic lack of caution and… Okay, she’s not sure how one could interpret it as anything but a kiss. “I wanted it to be,” she says now. “If you don’t, that’s all right. So. Was it your first since 1945?”

“I’m ninety-five, not dead,” Jake grumbles.

Which answers her question. She’s not all that surprised; she knows his life story. Knows that he managed to sneak his way into the Army in spite of being unable to make the cut for his high school’s sports teams, much less qualify for military service at age 19 after signing up for a experimental enhancement. Knows that he went AWOL to rescue his older brother from yeerk hold, and that the surprising success of the mission gave the Army’s half-forgotten guinea pig an unexpected dose of legitimacy. Knows that that same older brother was killed in action two years after that, leaving behind a wife who later founded SHIELD and a son who became Rachel’s father. Knows that Jake himself was declared missing and presumed only a few months later, actually trapped in Arctic ice until he was discovered three short weeks ago. There simply hasn’t been time.

She’s not sure if she should be more proud or worried that she just stole the first kiss of a national icon. “I’m pretty sure you’re a decent human being,” she tells him. She shifts her hand slightly to lace their fingers together. “I’m pretty sure that decent human beings don’t turn into wolves and rip people’s throats out the way I do. I’d probably still be refusing to take sides as the yeerks tore apart lives if Tobias hadn’t decided to spare my life in spite of all logic and in spite of direct orders.”

Jake is silent for a long time. Finally he says, “World War II was only simple and heroic in the retelling. The phrase Greatest Generation didn’t even come about until the late 1990s, well after most of the people who would have called bullshit were dead. I just…” He takes a breath, looking straight up. “I just unleashed a nuclear weapon upon several thousand living beings, killed I don’t know how many. The people who say that my hands are clean because I only kill aliens don’t deserve to call themselves human, much less Americans.”

“For pete’s sake, just kiss already!” Rachel calls loudly from behind them. “You’re giving me a friggin’ toothache, and I’m already hangry.”

Ax realizes that the longer he spends on this strange little planet interacting with its strange little sentient species, the more he appreciates why his brother always enjoyed coming here. Prince Jake might shy away from his title, but he also becomes the one to stop and check in on every member of his team after they are first seated at the food establishment, taking a moment to talk to each of them in spite of the way that he is himself swaying in exhaustion. Rachel is a magnificent warrior and it was an honor to fight by her side, while Cassie defies every expectation through her undeniable competence. Marco’s cheerful promise to introduce Ax to every food on a stick that Earth has to offer conceals a true offer of friendship at its core. Ax went out drinking Tobias during the whole messy affair around his first landing on Earth; later, one of the SHIELD agents had started to explain Hawkeye’s role to Ax, and it’d felt right when Ax blurted out, “He’s a friend.”

This moment feels important, Ax concludes, and not just because of his fifth helping of delicious shaved meat products upon delightfully textured bread. It feels like the start of something. Rachel and Marco are bickering companionably about the exact nature of that alien portal, and you could almost miss the way that Tobias’s and Rachel’s legs tangle together as she curls her body halfway around him. Jake looks ready to doze off, but pulls himself out of it every time he realizes what’s happening, while Cassie watches him with a gentle smile.

“So, you headed home after this?” Tobias asks. He’s pale and bruised, but his appetite has proven to be healthy enough.

Ax considers. “The Andalite Electorate will dispense justice to Alloran, both for his actions during the hork-bajir conflict and…” He stops. It doesn’t do to bad-mouth his own people when speaking to aliens.

“They don’t like that he got taken.” Tobias smiles, bitter and tired. “Their little Abomination is some seriously bad press, and they’re going to bring holy hell down on him for it.”

Ax sets down his pita and folds his hands on the tabletop. They are strong and five-fingered and pale brown right now because he wishes them to be. It is easy enough to manipulate the electricity that makes his shape take on different appearances, even if he will probably never have his brother’s gift for illusions. “You’re not wrong,” he says at last. “Once I believed… leeeve-ed. That my people were without fault, that our causes were righteous. Once I hungered for war. Once I thought it to be nothing more than another driftball game with higher stakes and greater chance for glory. Once I dreamed of that glory, dreamed of war. Now… Ow. Wwwww.”

Tobias’s expression suggests that he knows perfectly well Ax is only playing around with mouth-sounds to buy himself time.

“Now I have few certainties,” Ax finally admits.

“You have us.” Tobias doesn’t hesitate. “For what we’re worth, that is.” He glances around at where Cassie is giggling while Rachel flicks tomatoes into Marco’s hair. She has one hand over her mouth to try and avoid making enough noise to rouse Jake, who is sleeping face-down in a blob of tabbouleh.

“You are all of you worth very much to me.” Once again, the words feel right even as Ax says them. “And I’d be honored to fight with you once again, should the need arise.”

[All my other AUs are housed here.]

#au #Anonymous #asks #animorphs #avengers #animorphs au #animorphs fic #andalites #avengers fusion #animorphs fusion #i have no idea if this one was inspired by the opening of thing from anothr world or not

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ask-the-phan-site · 6 years

Text

The Bond Shattering Bros of Wrath

>It’s time!

(Insert song: Life Will Change)

Come on, everyone. The fate of Peter Parker and Harry Osborn is in our hands.

You bet. C’mon, let’s get goin’!

Yes. Everyone’s depending on us.

That’s right. Once we take the Treasure and change their hearts, their bond will be restored and we’ll truly be known as the Phantom Thieves for Justice. Now let’s do this!

>We entered the Palace. In the main Arena of Wrath, the seats were packed with a cognitive audience. In the center ring, a glittering gold belt.

Announcement: Welcome to the match of the century! In this corner, The Wall Crawling Alien Suit Fiend, Venom!

The time has come for payback. This is what happens when go against me!

Announcement: And in the other corner, The Inventing Daddy’s Boy, Hobgoblin!

I don’t want to fight you, Pete. You were never my enemy. But I will do what I must.

Shadow Peter: Shut up! You had your chance to forgive me and you blew it. Considered this payback.

Shadow Harry: (sobbing) Please, no.

The both of you stop it!

You two are best friends! How could you fight like this?

Shadow Peter: Stay out of this, Phantom Thieves! This is between me and him.

That’s not true. We heard your real thought. You both wanted more than anything is to be together and escape to make it happen. We get that. That’s why we’re here... To help you.

Shadow Harry: Help us? What’s wrong with us?

Skull: Norman Osborn, of course. From the very beginning, he lied to the both of you. He lied to everyone! He lied to Raymond Warren which lead him to become the Jackal and letting one of the spiders free to bite Peter and turn him into Spider-Man. He lied to Spencer Smythe into getting Harry expelled from Horizon High to keep the poor kid on a leash like an animal.

Shadow Peter: It’s all Harry’s fault for not realizing it sooner. And now look at us. Forced to wear a mask I never wanted to wear. Harry is now more puppet than man. What kind of son doesn’t even know his own father? I hope he never gets well from that Spider Island business.

Shadow Harry: He’s... He’s right. It is my fault.

No, it’s not. You weren’t the one who turned Peter and the whole city into spider people. That was all Jackal and Norman.

Shadow Peter: What do you know!? You’re just some wannabe heroes.

We never said we were. We just wanted to help everyone who needs it. That includes you both, whether you like it or not.

We can’t just watch you two lose the thing you value more than anything... Each other.

Skull: Whatever happens to you guys effects me and Crow. I accepted and forgiven him for all the things he did for Masayoshi Shido. I don’t want all that to be undone.

Crow: And I finally let go of my past and made friends. I don’t want all of it to end like this. Not ever.

Shadow Peter: Then I guess you’ll have to be disappointed. You’ll get used to it. I know I did. Now enough talking, these people have waited long enough. Time to give them what they want!

>The crowd begins to cheer louder and louder.

Shadow Peter: Shall we, Harry?

Shadow Harry: ... Yes. I’m sorry, Phantom Thieves, but please stay out of this.

Announcement: Let’s get ready to rumble~!

>A bell rings and the two begin fighting. Webs and Pumpkin Bombs were flying along with fists and legs.

It’s not too late, we can still stop them.

Skull: That’s right. We can save them even if they don’t want to.

Crow: We need to stop the distortion. For their sake.

Oracle: I think I have an idea. We want them to stop fighting each other... Let’s just have them fight us instead.

Panther: I guess that would work. Nothing else would seem to work.

Oracle: I’ll see what I can do about their weaknesses. Persona!

>Necronomicon scans the two Shadows.

Oracle: It looks like Peter’s weak to Bless and Psychokinesis. And Harry’s weak to Electricity and Curse. Joker, Skull, Noir, Crow, it’s up to you.

Joker: Right. This is it. We do this together.

Skull, Noir, and Crow: Right!

Joker, Skull, Noir, and Crow: Persona!

(Insert song: Rivers in the Desert Instrumental)

>Shadow Peter uses Skull Crater on Shadow Harry. He dodged it. Shadow Harry uses Snap on Shadow Peter. He resisted.

Oracle: It looks like he can resist Gun attacks.

Joker: Don’t worry, we know their true weakness thanks to you. Now pillage him, Arsene!

Skull: Let’s blow ‘em away too, Captain!

>Both Arsene and Captain Kidd use Eiga and Zionga on Shadow Harry. He was knocked down. Then, Milady and Robin Hood both use Psio and Kouga on Shadow Peter. And he was knocked down too.

Joker: Everyone, go!

>After the attack, the two Shadows were still up.

Shadow Peter: Hey! Stay out of this! Did you hear!?

>Shadow Peter tries to web us, but we all dodge it. Shadow Harry throws a Pumpkin Bomb at Shadow Peter. But he dodge it. Arsene uses Masukunda to lower their agility. Captain Kidd uses Matarukaja to make us stronger.

Oracle: This one! Defense up!

>Necromonicon uses Marakukaja to strengthen our defenses. Milady uses Psio again and knocks down Shadow Peter.

Baton Pass!

>I take up the torch and Arsene uses Eiga again. However, it missed. Robin Hood also uses Eiga, but it also missed.

How!? Joker lowered your speed.

Shadow Harry: It’s my glider. As something you wear, it raises my agility.

>Shadow Peter gets back up.

Shadow Peter: Fine, you want us to stop fight each other... We’ll fight you instead.

Crow: Good. That’s what we wanted you to do from the start.

Shadow Harry: I’m sorry, guys. I want to make things up with Peter. This is the only way.

>Shadow Peter uses Lucky Punch on me. I was knocked down. Shadow Harry uses Maragion. Skull and Crow were burned.

Joker: Now that we have your attention, let’s do this.

>Earlier, I used a Skill Card to give Arsene Mabaisudi. He used it to heal Skull and Crow of their Burn. Captain Kidd uses Deathbound. It causes major damage to Shadow Peter, but Shadow Harry resists. Milady uses Psio on Shadow Peter. He dodged it. Robin Hood uses Kouga on Shadow Peter. It got him down.

Baton Pass!

>Crow passes the baton to Skull. Captain Kidd uses Zionga on Shadow Harry. It gets him down.

Skull: Let’s tear ‘em apart!

>After the attack, the two Shadows were still up.

Shadow Peter: Do you think you can take me on? Try to beat this.

>Shadow Peter uses Life Drain... On Shadow Harry. It left Shadow Harry very weak.

Shadow Harry: I will... Die for him... If it means... He’ll forgive me... I’ll even... Do this...

>Shadow Harry uses a Pumpkin Bomb. Noir was badly burned.

Shadow Harry: I’m sorry.

>Shadow Harry falls into Despair. This means after three turns, he’ll fall.

Harry, no!

Shadow Harry: I’m sorry, Ryuji, but I must do this... For the boy I love.

Joker: We know that, Harry... But if you’re too busy protecting others...

Who’s protecting you!?

>Arsene uses Eigaon and savagely knocks down Shadow Harry. Normally, as a gentleman thief, I wouldn’t resort to this. But this called for desperate measures.

Now that’s just brutal.

So I’ll just have to match it.

Joker: It’s all on you, Crow.

Baton Pass!

Crow: Now to show you a light so bright, the truth will be all you know. Go, Robin Hood!

>Robin Hood uses Kougaon on Shadow Peter. It got him good.

Hold Up!

Shadow Harry: I’m sorry, Pete. I let you down. I forgive you for everything that’s happen. Please, forgive me as well.

Crow: If you want him to forgive you, you must forgive yourself first.

Skull: And if you can’t do that on your own...

Then we’ll just have to help you.

>After the attack, Shadow Harry was finally down. Shadow Peter, on the other hand, was still up.

Shadow Peter: Idiot. If he just appreciated what I’ve done for him, he wouldn’t have ended up like this.

Crow: Because he felt guilty for what happened. Have you truly come to hate him for what he’s done.

Shadow Peter: I’ve done everything to help him and this godforsaken city! And how do they repay me? They show that they don’t understand or really care. Why should I keep helping them?

Crow: Because you’re a hero. Everyone relies on you. They may not show it now, but they will. Even if Jameson continues to say bad things about you, at least you will know who truly cares about you. No one said it would be easy. It’s just like your uncle said, “With great power-”

Shadow Peter: Comes great responsibility!? Well let me tell you what else came with it. Great pain and misery. Great sorrow. Great disappointment. And worse, great loneliness and heartbreak. I gained these powers... And lost myself.

Skull: True, you don’t even recognize yourself when you put the mask on, but you have friends who help remind you about who you really are. That includes Harry. So please, he wants you to forgive him just as he wants to forgive you.

Shadow Peter: ... You want me to forgive him? ... Tell him I want my life back.

Shadow Harry: (berly getting back up) I... I can’t...

Shadow Peter: ... Then what good are you, spoiled brat... And you, if you want more than anything to side with him... You can die with him.

>Shadow Peter uses Desperation. As he did, he became bigger, stronger, and meaner.

(recovering from her burns) This could be bad.

Oracle: Something tells me we’re going to need something stronger than this.

>Oracle goes Ultimate.

Oracle: PERSONA!

>Prometheus scans Shadow Venom.

Oracle: He’s covered his weakness to Psy, but Bless skill still have an effect. You might even have luck with Electricity... Or at least the thundering sound from it. Same goes for Gun attacks.

Skull: I guess that makes sense, Peter’s Shadow is based off the V-52. Using sounds louder than anything as to create sonic vibrations will harm it.

Crow: Because the vibrations will tamper with its flexible structure.

Joker: Good. Cause it’s about to get real noisy here. Come on, let’s go all out!

>We go Ultimate.

Joker, Skull, Noir, and Crow: PERSONA!

(Insert song: Rivers in the Desert with vocals)

>Shadow Venom uses Vicious Strike. Lucky, we all dodged it. Satanael uses Megidolaon. It was a big hit. Seiten Taisei uses Ziodyne. He dodged it, but the thundering sound still causes damage.

Shadow Venom: Ugh! The vibrations... They hurt...

Oracle: It’s working! Keep it up!

>Astarte uses One-shot Kill. He resisted, but the Gun sound still hurts him. Loki uses Kaogaon. It knocks him down.

Crow: Let’s scatter!

>After the attack, Shadow Venom was still up.

Shadow Venom: You can’t stop me so easily. You can’t use sound to stop me... If there’s no one to make it.

>Shadow Venom uses Brain Jack. Skull and Crow become brainwashed.

Skull: I... can’t... resist.

Joker: It’s alright, Skull. Just hang in there.

>Satanael uses Riot Gun. Though he resisted, the loud sound from the attack was very painful to him. Being Brainwashed, Skull had Seiten Taisei use Megaton Raid on me. Luckily, I dodged it. Noir uses Harisen Recovery on Crow. He snapped out of the spell.

Crow: Thank you.

Noir: You’re welcome. Now let’s take him. Astarte!

>Astarte uses Psiodyne. It was nothing special, but it took a great amount of health from him. Loki uses Kougaon. It knocks him down again.

Crow: I don’t want us to attack this time. I think I know how to take him down, but it will take some time. Can you keep him busy?

Joker: We’ll buy you whatever time you need.

>Crow, after using Harisen Recovery, readies himself. Shadow Venom gets back up.

Shadow Venom: It doesn’t matter what you do, you won’t win.

>Shadow Venom uses Gigantomachia. Everyone dodged it but me. I took a lot of damage. Fortunatly, not enough to finish me thanks to Satanael’s resistance. I also equipped him with the Skill Card, Salvation. Satanael uses Salvation to completely heal us all. Seiten Taisei uses Ziodyne. It left Shadow Venom shocked. Astarte uses One-shot Kill. It was a technical hit because of the effect.

Now for the ultimate attack. There's no escaping it. Prepare for the end. Go, Loki!

>Loki uses Laevatein. It was a major hit on Shadow Venom that it knocked him down.

Shadow Venom: No! This city needs to pay for what it did to me! What Norman Osborn did to me! ... What Ben Parker did to me.

Crow: For what Aunt May did to you? It’s only Norman Osborn who deserves the blame. No one else. If you want to really understand it... OPEN YOUR MIND!

>After the attack, the Shadow resumes his true form. After they both removed their masks, the belt comes to us... But I have a feeling there’s more to this belt than meets the eye. So I use my Third Eye to see a hidden compartment. I open it and is surprised to see what was inside.

(Picture originally from KK.)

Th- That’s...

>Flashback.

>Midtown High, 2015. It’s the first day of a new school for a fourteen-year-old Peter Parker. He was just walking up the steps when he was noogie by a familiar face.

Hey, Parker! Just thought I’d humbly welcome you to Midtown.

Hey, Flash. How was your summer?

Flash: Well, I tried to find a summer job to pay for certain expenses while I’m at school, but I’ve only come up with a few measly bucks. So I’m hoping you could spot me.

Peter: I don’t know, Flash. Aunt May gave me this money for the bus home.

Flash: (now being very indecent) Didn’t you know? Walking is good exercise. I know you of all people will need it, Puny Parker.

>Peter was at a lost. He didn’t know what to do... Until...

?????: Come on, Flash. Don’t do this. Not on the first day. Just leave him alone.

Flash: (mockingly) Or what? Your father will fire my father? Or better yet, your father will sue me?

?????: (sternly) You really want to go there?

Flash: Tch. Whatever. You can’t do anything without daddy anyway... Daddy’s boy.

>With that, Flash leaves. Peter turns to face his rescuer.

Sorry about him. He was like that to me when I started here.

Peter: Yeah, I already know him. He lives just a few blocks from me back in Queens.

Harry: I’d figured.

>Peter looked at Harry and immediately recognized him from a magazine.

Peter: Hey, I know you! You’re-

Harry: (looking down but smiling) I know. Norman Osborn’s son.

Peter: Actually... I was going to say Harry Osborn.

Harry: (a bit surprised) You... You know me by name? That’s actually a first. Well, it’s nice to meet you...

Peter: Peter. Peter Parker.

Harry: Peter Parker? ... Actually, Pete sounds good, too.

Peter: Pete?

Harry: Well, it way better than Puny.

Peter: Yeah, I guess it does. (starting to sound more happier)

Harry: Well, let me be the one to really welcome you to Midtown High School.

>The two boys smiled at each other as they walked inside... And that was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

>Back in the present...

We didn’t know it until after school, someone saw us and drew us. Not sure why she drew Pete’s hoodie red, but it still turned out good. She gave it to us. I completely forgotten about it.

Shadow Peter: Same here. We were so happy then. What happened to us?

Skull: Norman Osborn. That’s what happened. The dude will do anything to make sure the Osborn Legacy lives on. But we know what kind of legacy it is. One built on lies, deception, and betrayal.

Shadow Harry: That’s right. I should have known about this from the start.

Skull: It’s not your fault. We were all fooled. Even I believed him. It turns out he was only using my mother to store his money. After the Oz Academy was destroyed, they took the money and the stuff my mom bought with it was repossessed. We’re just lucky she only bought some stuff. Just imaged what would have happened if she got a new place.

Shadow Harry: I think I can.

Crow: So, Peter, now you see just how much Harry regrets not believing you?

Shadow Peter: ... I guess so. I was just so angry, but didn’t want to show it because I should have known something like this would happen. I know Uncle Ben was right. But it was just so hard. I know I have friends to help me, but only Miles and Harry knew who I was under the mask. But with Harry being angry with me, I felt like Miles was the only one there. But now I think I was wrong. Harry... I’m sorry. And I forgive you for lashing out at you.

Shadow Harry: And I’m sorry, too. I should have believed you. I knew my father was up to something, but I was too scared to admit it. I was scared that I would only disappoint him. But now I know, I never needed his approval. No one can tell me how to live my life but me... I forgive you, Pete... I love you.

Shadow Peter: ... I love you too, Harry. (begins smiling)

>The two help each other up. They turn to us, smiling.

Shadow Peter: Thank you. We’ll return to our true selves and confess in the real world. It’s time the us in reality forgive each other and confess the truth.

Shadow Harry: And that’s a promise. I know my father is helpless now, but knowing him, we’re gonna need to stick together.

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

Same here.

>The two Shadows smiled at us. Then, the two embraced each other as they faded back to their true selves and we departed as well as the Palace crumbles.

>Cup O’Joe in the real world. We all got back safe and sound. We went inside to find Miles wait for us.

So, did you do it?

Take a look for yourself.

>I show Miles the Treasure. In reality, it was the picture in a gold frame.

Miles: Well that’s good, it means they’ll have a change of heart, right?

True. But it may take a while. These were some major Shadows, so all we can do is wait.

Miles: I guess. Besides, if anything happens, Peter’s aunt or someone at Oscorp would say something.

Well, what do we do with the Treasure?

For now, let’s just keep it to ourselves.

Yeah, it would cause some problems if someone saw a picture of Harry and recognize it.

Yusuke: Well, with that done, I think I could use some coffee. I am rather parched now.

That’s good. I could use a drink about now.

>As everyone went inside, me, Morgana, Ryuji, and Akechi stayed out.

Is something wrong?

I’m just wondering if this will work. I’ve had recent dreams about them.

I’ve been having dreams, too. Especially with what Otto Octavius will do and what will happen to Peter.

Ren: True. It sounds like things in that timeline are not going so well. But I’m sure things will be different in our timeline. We just have to believe and have faith.

Akechi: ... You’re right. There’s no guarantee this will end like it did in that timeline. Let’s just hope for the best.

Ryuji: Yeah, man. And if it does happen...

You can bet your ass we’ll be there to stop it.

Thanks, Ryuji kun.

>The two boys hug it out. We all make our way into the cafe with renewed hope and high spirits.

#phantom thieves of hearts #heist

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